Between Us
Reid and Lola, Book One
Christine Bell
Frog Prints Publishing
Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Copyright
Introduction
It was supposed to be a fresh start…
Boston is in the rearview mirror, and the McDaniels boys thought they’d left the ugliness behind along with it. But Reid’s got a secret that could tear the brothers apart, and now, to top it off, there’s this girl…Big, sad eyes, chip on her shoulder the size of a Buick. She’s in trouble. Hell, she is trouble. But he just can’t seem to stop thinking about her.
Former ballerina-turned Vegas showgirl Lola Taylor is used to dealing with jerks at her job, but when a handsome stranger saves her from a near-tragedy, she can’t help but wonder if he’s one of the fabled good guys. If so, the last thing he needs is to get caught up with the likes of her, but no matter how hard she tries to drive him away, he keeps coming back. If she finally breaks down and let’s him in, it could destroy her, but with every touch and every smile, her resolve is weakening…
Could Reid McDaniels be that one guy worth risking it all for?
Chapter One
Reid
“First round of shots are on me¸” Bash called from across the table. “Who’s going to help me carry?”
I took a long pull from my second legal beer and shook my head. “Not this guy.”
I shouldn’t have to do anything but drink myself senseless like any normal person did on their twenty-first birthday in Vegas.
Being one of the fighting McDaniels brothers had a lot of perks. Being the youngest of the fighting McDaniels brothers had also come with a lot of ass-whoopings. The least these bastards could do was get me a few rounds after the torture they’d put me through in the early years.
Olivia laughed and stood, and Matty followed suit, dropping a kiss on his girlfriend Kayla’s forehead before joining in the procession toward the crowded bar.
Kayla stayed put, eying me pointedly, and I blew out a sigh.
“What?”
“You know what, Reid.”
“It’s my birthday,” I reminded her, holding up my pint glass and shaking the golden liquid gently. “Do we have to do this today?”
“No. But since you’re twenty-one now, it only seems right that you at least commit to doing it at all. Give me your word as a grown-ass man, Reid. Promise me you’ll tell them.” She folded her arms over her chest and stared me down until I let out a groan and rested my head in my hands.
"Jesus Christ, fine. I’ll do it, all right?"
"Soon,” she pressed in a pleading voice that was really kind of killing my birthday buzz. “If we can take anything away from the past few months it's the fact that secrets are dangerous. Nefarious. They can creep up and choke you and the ones you love when you least expect it." She reached for me and closed her fingers around my shoulder, urging me to face her again. "We all made a pact before we moved, Reid. No more secrets. Not between any of us."
The rightness of her words seeped into my bones and I picked up the beer on the table in front of me and took a long swig. Knowing the right thing to do didn't make the doing of it even one ounce easier. Especially when I knew exactly the kind of havoc this bombshell was going to wreak on my family. One of the worst things that could’ve happened had happened.
Sherri McDaniels was back.
It was more than a month ago, and I still couldn't quite get my head around it. Our mother had shown up, without even a postcard or a phone call to say she was in town. Luckily, when I told her she couldn't come in, she didn't push it. But the business card she'd left me was burning a hole through my wallet.
I could feel it there, ever-present, more obtrusive and ominous than a loaded pistol. I had taken that card out every night since the move to Vegas while I lay awake in my new, unfamiliar bedroom. I’d stare at it, and imagine how it would go down if I told Bash and Matty about it.
"Oh, and I forgot to tell you guys before we moved. Mom stopped by."
That was always as far as I got in my imaginings, because the ludicrousness of it all was too much to get past.
After a decade of being MIA and literally abandoning us in our home after the death of our father, with only a fridge full of food and a casual see-ya-later-bye, Sherri McDaniels wanted to waltz back in like she'd never left.
"I missed you, sweetie."
That's what she’d said to me when she’d seen me. The fucking balls…
Anger rose up to choke me, along with another emotion that I refused to give a name to.
"Are we in agreement, Reid?" Kayla asked softly.
She was persistent if nothing else, and I met her green eyes with my own. It would be so much easier just to throw the card away. Forget my mother had ever contacted me, and make like nothing happened. But the whole reason I'd told Kayla any of this in the first place was that it wasn't going to be so easy. Because Sherri had started calling. The first time was last week. I didn’t pick up and she didn’t leave a message. Then, this morning, she’d called again. This time she did leave a message.
I’m looking to fly out to Vegas real soon, and was hoping to get in touch, so call me back.
And…happy birthday, baby.
My stomach churned and I took another swallow of beer.
"Look, future brother-in-law. I know we're friends, but I'm not fooling myself. You chose me to tell because you knew it would force you to make a decision. I won't lie to Matty ever again. Not after what lies almost cost us. So either you are going to tell him, or I am.”
I hated to admit it, but she was right. It might not have been a conscious decision, but I'd absolutely told her because it would force my hand when I'd spent the past four weeks too torn up inside to pull the trigger.
Now that I knew Sherri’s visit in Boston was only the opening act, I had no other option. She was determined to press the issue, and it was better if my brothers had some time to prepare.
I tipped my head in a clipped nod in response to Kayla and gestured toward the stage where the lights were dimming.
"Show's about to start. But I hear you, and I promise to tell Bash and Matty both before the week is over."
"Can you do me one favor, though?" she asked, her pretty face scrunching into a wince.
"Sure," I said.
"Give me like an hour's notice before you tell them. I want a chance to prepare myself for the fallout. It's going to be a rough day for everyone involved."
She was spitting the truth, there. I still harbored a lot of anger toward our mother. She'd been a shitty parent before she'd left, especially to my two older brothers, but after she'd left? Things had gotten even worse for me. They'd told me, over and over, that she wasn't coming back. For some reason, though, I didn't believe it. I sat in various rooms at various foster homes just…waiting.
It had taken years before I'd finally given up hope. In my head, I'd taken to imagining she was dead. Not in a bloodthirsty, revenge kind of way. More like in a "the reason she isn't here with us is because she can't be".
Affirmation that she was still very much alive had sent me into a tailspin that I was only now coming to grips with.
The lights on the stage flickered and music blared from the speakers dotting the perimeter of the room. I was about to experience my first burlesque show. When my brothers had told me about it, I'd been lukewarm. I wasn't a strip bar guy, and dancing wasn't really my thing, but something about all the energy in this town was infectious, so I hadn't said no.
Now, as the action started, I wished I'd passed. I just wasn't in the mood, and until I came clean with my brothers, I likely wouldn't be.
The first group of girls shimmied onto the stage, and I leaned forward in my seat. All of them were pretty, sure, but there was this one, right in the middle, that I couldn’t take my eyes off.
She was wearing the same costume as the rest. A silver, sequined halter and a matching pair of bikini bottoms that barely covered the goods. Her toned legs were a mile long and flicked and kicked like nobody’s business.
The thing that made her stand out, though, was the way she moved. It was sexy, no doubt. But there was a grace about her the other girls on stage couldn’t hope to touch. A proud tilt to her chin, a subtle ease of movement, belied by her ramrod straight posture.
“Tequila time,” Bash said as he set down a pair of shots.
The rest of the crew wasn’t far behind, but I drained my glass and shooed them out of the way, desperate for a look at this girl’s face.
“You’re blocking my view.”
Matty let out a laugh and promptly stepped to the side, tossing a glance over his shoulder at the stage. “Sorry, bro.”
Vaguely, I heard them all chuckling at my sudden pre-occupation with the stage, but I gave no shits. Because there she was.
Her gleaming black hair was in a bun on top of her head, leaving her neck and collarbones bare, like the perfect frame for the perfect face. A straight, no nonsense nose that looked like it belonged on a princess, and a bee-stung mouth that looked like it belonged on a pinup completed the picture.
But even from fifty feet away, it was her eyes that called to me. Almond-shaped ebony pools that gleamed as she shimmied. And then she looked at me.
Out of nowhere, every single minute of my six-month, self-imposed dry spell seemed to pool to my balls at once.
Bash let out a low whistle. “Seems like you got yourself an admirer, little brother.”
I ignored him and kept my gaze locked on the stage, cock as hard as a tire iron. There was a reason I’d been laying low as far as women were concerned lately, but fuck if I could remember it then. Then, all I could see was her.
As the number went on, she looked away, but whether it was because she could feel my gaze on her or because she liked looking at me too, she kept coming back.
By the time the song ended and she sashayed off stage, I could feel a drop of sweat skating down my neck.
“So…is it hot in here or is it just Reid?” Matty asked from his seat next to me.
“Whatever, man. It’s a show. It would be rude not to watch.”
“Yeah, I get it.” Matty picked up his glass of club soda and pulled out the cocktail napkin beneath it. “Here.” He handed me the napkin, a grin tugging at his lips. “You got some drool you might wanna wipe.”
I ignored him, and snagged the shot sitting in front of him that he hadn’t drunk. “Cheers.”
I took down the shot, wincing as the fiery liquid burned my throat. Last one. It was weird, but suddenly the last thing I wanted was to be drunk. I wanted to have all my faculties for when that dancer got back on stage.
Shoving my beer aside, I settled in to wait as the rest of my family chattered around me. We were supposed to stay for a couple and then bar hop, but I wasn’t budging.
Over the next two hours, I got to see her three more times. She changed clothes for each dance, and every costume was more revealing than the last.
By the time the show ended, I was stone sober and heading for the worst case of blue balls known to man.
Happy twenty-first, asshole.
“So, can we assume since you made us stay here all night that you plan to grow a set and find that girl now that her shift is over?” Olivia asked before popping a handful of bar nuts into her mouth.
I hadn’t thought that far ahead, but now that it had been said, it was the only thought in my head.
“I don’t know. For what? She’s hot, but I don’t have time—”
“For girls?” Matty snorted and punched my arm. “Come on, man. You haven’t brought anyone around in forever.”
I shoved back my irritation and faced him. “We’ve been a little busy, if you recall. What with trying to bail this one out of jail,” I jerked a thumb at Bash, “and then with you inciting the mafia.”
Bash rolled his eyes but Matty nodded. “Yeah, I can see that. Sorry we ruined your sex life. But, as you can see, we’re good now.” He slung an arm around Kayla’s shoulder. “So go on. See if you can find out if she’s going to come into the bar after the show or see if you can send a note to her dressing room or something.”
I thought about it for exactly three seconds before shaking my head. “Not gonna happen.”
Because blue balls or not, now that she wasn’t right in my face, all the reasons I didn’t need to be dealing with a girl right now came rushing back to me. I still had my plate full. New town, new job, and new trouble dogging me all the way from Boston. The last thing I needed was more complications.
Maybe once this Sherri thing was dealt with, I could come back to the club and—
“Suit yourself,” Bash said, pushing himself to his feet and holding a hand out to Olivia. “We’re about ready to go, then. The Mayweather fight starts in twenty minutes and they’re going to have it on the big screen at The Goal Post.”
We all stood and drained the last of our beverages before each tossing a five spot into the center of the table for the cocktail waitress.
“I gotta hit the head,” I said as we wove our way through the crowd. “I’ll meet you guys across the street.”
The Goal Post was on the other side of the Strip, just a crosswalk away, and Matty flipped his hand up in a wave of acknowledgement.
I veered off down the long hallway and shoved open the men’s room door, mind still thoroughly occupied with that dancer. There was a line of about five guys that ended with me, but by the time I was done taking a leak, the bathroom was empty.
That’s when I heard it. A loud yelping sound. I jerked away from the sink and tried to figure out where it was coming from. An agitated female voice, followed by that of a guy swearing up a storm, poured through the tiny open window right above the row of urinals.
It was the second scream, loud enough that there was no mistaking it, even with the bumping bass coming from the club speakers, that got my feet moving.
Out of the bathroom, I hung a left and another left, then headed straight for the big, aluminum door. It was probably nothing. A drunk couple getting a little loud because someone danced too close to someone else. But when I shoved open the door, my adrenaline was pumping hot.
I don't know what I'd been expecting to see, but it wasn’t this.
A massive guy in a suit had a woman pinned to the brick wall of the building. I couldn’t see her face because his was in the way, but what I could see was that her blouse was ripped, hanging off her shoulder in shreds, and she was putting up one hell of a fight.
“Come on baby, don’t get shy on me now,” he rumbled, in a drunken slur.
All the emotions of the past month came to a head, and I couldn't hold back the roar of rage building in my chest. "Get the fuck off her," I snarled.
Probably, I should've waited even a nanosecond to see if the thug would listen.
I didn't.
Instead, I lunged toward him and sent a sidekick to his kidney that connected with a satisfying thud when it landed.
"Ooph," he grunted. He fell back, clutching his gut, but I didn't waste any time, stepping closer to the girl slumped against the wall.
She held a tiny blade that glinted in the moonlight. I could see the dark red blood dripping from the tip, and I met her panicked but familiar gaze.
The dancer I’d been watching all night.
I tried to keep my voice low and soothing to calm her, but inside, I was still so filled with fury, I was close to snapping. “Are you okay?"
"I think I stabbed him. Jesus, did I stab him?"
Her teeth had started to chatter and, in spite of the still-oppressive Vegas heat, I pulled her closer to me and did my best to cover her with her torn shirt.
"Don't worry about him. Whatever happens, he earned it. We need to get you inside where it's safe."
"Oh my god, look out!"
Her screech hit me an instant before that giant bastard’s right hook did. I'd turned at the last second, probably saving my eye socket from shattering, but I took the blow full on the side of the head. Ears ringing, I stumbled to the side, focusing all my energy on keeping my feet under me.
"You little cocksucker. You’re horning in on my date,” he growled, before he came lumbering toward me again, giant arms pumping like pistons.
Even as rattled as my brain was, I recognized that for the good news that it was. He was as big as a motherfucker, but he was also inebriated and didn’t know how to fight. If he did, he wouldn't be wasting energy posturing and swinging at me when he was too far away to even hope of connecting with a shot.
I wasted one more precious second, shooting a quick glance to the girl by the door. "Get inside. Now." But I couldn't waste another. Brutus was five feet away now and closing in fast.
I leapt into action, and whipped my leg out with as much power behind it as I could muster and executed a neat roundhouse kick that landed somewhere in the vicinity of his neck.
This time, he didn't stumble. He fell like the sack of shit he was, heavily onto the ground.
She grabbed at my arm and dragged me toward the door to the club.
“Come on, we’ve got to go!”
Chapter Two
Lola
By the time we got back to my dressing room, my legs had finally stopped shaking, but my hands were a whole other story. I clenched them at my side as I wheeled around to face him.
“Thank you for that. It was…a close call.”
Between Us Page 1
