Page 27 of Dating the Boss
With him in front of me, I trailed a gaze up and down his slender body. He was like a little spitfire, both masculine and feminine. And damn if he didn’t send my heart racing each time his hazel eyes met mine. I hadn’t been that attracted to someone in a long time. Just my luck that it was someone I could never have, never touch.
Reed led us to the breakfast area.
Round tables were placed throughout the room, each set with silverware and a small vase with a flower in the center. Simple, yet elegant. Large windows let in natural light and also gave a view of the winter wonderland on the other side of them. Guests moved down a buffet where scrambled eggs, biscuits, sausage, and other breakfast food steamed in platters.
“Good morning,” Cole said after walking from the back room and spotting us. His brown hair was tousled a bit, and his lips looked a little puffy. “Grab a plate and help yourself.”
Ian then left the same room Cole had come from, straightening his wrinkled shirt.
Reed grinned. He’d clearly noticed the same as I had. “Morning.”
I nodded to the both of them before following Reed to the stack of plates. He grabbed one, and I did the same, and then we moved down the buffet-styled breakfast bar. He piled sausage links, scrambled eggs, and bacon on his plate, as well as two biscuits and a lemon blueberry muffin.
“Are you really going to eat all of that?” I asked.
“I’m gonna try,” Reed said. “There’s no challenge I back down from, as you should know by now.”
“Oh, I’m well aware.”
I hadn’t been lying when I’d said Reed was a go-getter the night before. When he set his mind to something—at least in regard to work—he didn’t stop until he succeeded.
After pouring us each a cup of coffee, we sat at a corner table, right beside a window with a view of the snowy courtyard. Winter birds stood out against the snow, their bright red feathers contrasting with the white as they swept through the area.
“I had a pet bird before,” Reed said, drawing my eyes back to him as he picked at his muffin.
“Oh?”
He nodded. “I found it on my front porch when I was seven. It was just a baby and couldn’t fly yet. Maybe it fell from its nest or maybe it was abandoned, but I couldn’t leave it there. So, I cut up a box and put some grass and things I found in the yard into it.” A sad smile touched his lips. “She would sit on my finger as I carried her around the house, showing her everything and talking to her. I even painted her box and glued fake gemstones on the side. My dad called me a sissy because of it, saying I was acting like a little girl. He made me put the bird back outside.”
My food was forgotten as I listened to his story. More than that, though, I listened to the tone of his voice as he told it, a little sad and distant.
“I’m almost afraid to ask what happened to the bird,” I said after a short pause.
Reed softly smiled. “I lived on the outskirts of town, kinda in the country, and there was an old birdhouse nailed to a tree in the backyard. It had been there ever since I could remember. After adding some grass to keep her warm and comfortable, I put her into it. I checked on her each day I came home from school, and I fed her bugs. I talked to her and told her how pretty she was. Then, one day she was gone.”
“She learned to fly,” I said, hoping it was true. I had grown awfully invested in his story and didn’t want to believe the bird had died.
“Yep,” Reed answered. “After seeing she was gone, I was frantic and searched for her. I saw her in a nearby tree and called out to her. I climbed the tree and tried to get her, but right as I reached her and stretched out my hand, she flew away. I never saw her again. She was gone, and there was nothing I could do.” He shook his head and released a short laugh. “I don’t know why I told you that story. It sounds stupid now. Of course she flew away. She wasn’t meant to be a pet. She belonged in the wild.”
The pain in his eyes told me there was a deeper meaning to the story. But we weren’t close enough for me to pry.
“She was only able to fly because of you,” I said. His hazel eyes flickered to me, and my heart thudded heavier. “You cared for her and gave her the chance to grow. To be free. I’m sure it was sad that she left, but you did a great thing by helping her.”
“I guess so.” Reed dropped his gaze to his coffee. “I should be used to it by now.”
“Used to what?”
“Nothing,” he said dismissively, then changed his tone. “I’ll make some calls after breakfast to get an update on the roads and see if our route is cleared yet.”
“Great.”
Silence fell over our table after that. The young couple I’d met the night before sat beside us, holding hands across the tabletop and smiling at each other as they talked. Sorrow touched my chest at the sight, and I averted my eyes. Once upon a time, that had been me: stupidly in love. What a fool I had been.
After breakfast, we discovered our situation was just as we’d both suspected. The blizzard had completely blocked our route home. No one would be passing through it that day, and maybe not even the day after depending on whether it continued to snow.
“Do you think the roads in town are okay enough for us to get a few things?” Reed asked as we carried our plates to the bin where other guests had disposed of their dishes.
“I can take you into town if you need me to,” Cole said from the buffet bar as he added fresh eggs and bacon. “I have a truck that can drive through anything. We’re used to the snow around here, so I doubt many places will be closed. Sorry. I overheard your conversation.”
