Page 132 of Tangled Kisses
On the other end, Vander snarls. “Who the fuck is this? Who?—”
“Someone who knows you don’t talk to a woman like that.”
“I’m her fiancé,” he bellows.
“Ex-fiancé,” I fire back. “She’s done with you. Stay away from her.”
There’s a pause, then a low, deadly laugh. “Tell me your name. I want to know who I’m talking to.”
“Griffin Topete,” I say, steady as stone. “Look me up.”
And then I end the call.
Reese remains braced against the wall, arms wrapped tight around herself, as if she’s holding in all the jagged pieces. Her face is pale, eyes wide, and it guts me.
I tuck the phone into my pocket and frame her face with my palms, tipping her chin until her gaze meets mine. “You okay, belleza?”
Her throat works. “I forgot how awful he always made me feel.”
I pull her against me, one arm around her shoulders, the other stroking her hair. “You’ll never feel that way again. Not with me.”
She sags into me, but her voice trembles. “I hope so. But Vander isn’t the type of man who takes no for an answer.”
It takesthe rest of the afternoon—and three squares of maple pecan fudge—to finally coax a genuine smile out of Reese. Even then, it flickers and fades like she’s still hearing Vander’s voice in the back of her mind.
So, I keep trying. A wine sampler at a cozy little bar. A selection of cheddars from the local shop. A dozen dumb jokes earning nothing but eye rolls. By the time the sky turns navy andthe street lamps glow, I know I need something stronger than sugar and cheese.
That’s how we end up at a hole-in-the-wall karaoke bar, tucked between a pawnshop and a nail salon. The place smells like spilled beer and fried food, the crowd already loose and rowdy. Reese relaxes the second we walk in, laughter sparking every time one of the locals butchers a ballad.
Then she nudges me toward the stage. “Go on. I want to hear my favorite cowboy sing.”
I arch a brow. “You trying to make me get up there?”
“Damn right.” Her eyes gleam in the neon glow.
A laugh rumbles out of me. “So you’re showing me off now?”
“Absolutely.” She squeezes my hand, the corners of her mouth quirking upward. “As long as they all know you’re mine.”
So I do it. Two songs, my voice rough but steady, and every time I glance down, she’s watching me like I hung the damn moon. By the time I make it back to our table, my lady is beaming.
She catches my hands in hers before I can sit. “Thank you for being you.”
“Always.”
Her gaze lingers, thoughtful now. “So… have you given any more thought to what I brought up at breakfast?”
I drag in a breath, my fingers rubbing my neck. “Reese, I hate the idea of taking money from you.”
She leans closer, brows lifted. “Hey. This isn’t me giving you money. This is for us.”
Her words knock the wind right out of me.
“You really want to help me?” I ask.
“Absolutely,” she replies without hesitation. “Look how much you’ve helped me, Griffin. Let me do this for you.”
I swallow hard, studying her face. She means it. Every word. “Okay,” I whisper. “For our future.”
