Reid's Deliverance (The Song, #2)

“Why did you look stunned when you said it?”


“Déjà vu. I’ve heard it before, but not from you. Maybe it was my dad. We used to hike here when I was a child.” A lump formed in her throat. “He’s gone.”

“I’m sorry.” His jawline squared then relaxed. “It’s hard to lose a parent.” He let her go. “Are you up for going a little further?”

“Yes.”

They hiked for another half hour in silence. She couldn’t blame him for leaping on a coincidence. Not remembering her friends, her job, her life, she couldn’t imagine it. Or why she’d finished his sentence. Connecting it to her father made sense, but that didn’t make it true.

“Nothing’s standing out.” Reid paused. “There’s no point in continuing. I’ll try again when I have the proper gear and supplies.” He released a harsh exhale and stomped off.

The hike back seemed a lot shorter.

When they arrived at the cabin, Lauren climbed the stairs to the deck. She sank onto one of the bench seats at the table. Fatigue weighed her down.

Reid appeared as energetic as when they’d left. He dropped the makeshift pack on the table. “There’s a tree near your property line that’s about to fall down. Do you have an ax?”

“Check the shed on the side of the cabin.” Lauren pointed. A two-door storage unit sat a few yards across from a tarp-covered woodpile. “The caretaker packed up for me, but he said he labeled the boxes.”

She unzipped the pocket on her jacket and got her keys. “Here.”

Reid hunkered down in front of her. He gripped her hand and the keys. “I’m sorry for being rude. I’m normally not like this.” He released a derisive snort. “At least I don’t think so. I could be as wrong as the direction of our hike today.”

“I don’t think you’re naturally rude, either. I wouldn’t help you if I did. You’re entitled to feel frustrated over this. Maybe you’re trying too hard.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

As she looked down, she resisted running her fingers through his hair.

He let go of her hand. “I better get started on that tree.”



Reid swung the ax. Each strike punctuated a truth chipping away at him. No money. No idea about his identity. No clue why he’d sought her out. Or why he could barely keep his cock under control every time Lauren got near him. He’d almost messed up and kissed her again. Was he always so easily distracted by a beautiful woman or was it just her? The sun beamed. Reid took off the shirt he’d borrowed from her and laid it over a stack of chopped wood. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t remember. She didn’t need someone like him hanging around.

Lauren came down from the deck carrying a glass. She’d changed into a fresh T-shirt, and denim shorts showed off her well-toned legs. “I thought you could use something to drink.”

He accepted the cold lemonade. “Thanks.” The tart and sweet beverage cooled him.

She glanced at the piles on the grass.

He’d separated out logs for the fireplace. The limbs and debris he’d collected from the yard would go into the trash.

“I appreciate you doing this.” The breeze ruffled her hair. She brushed it back. A light floral perfume lingered with the scent of fresh lemon. “You’re saving me a lot of extra work.”

“It is the least I can do.” He couldn’t stay and decipher the reasons behind his visions of them together. Not complicating her life outweighed finding answers. He’d convinced her not to call the police. He’d inserted her into his problem and still she’d helped. He couldn’t keep manipulating her. She’d done enough.

“I made lunch. We can eat outside.”

He handed her the glass. The soft brush of her fingers parched his throat all over again. “I’m almost finished.”

“Then it’s a great time to take a break.”

Her retreat to the deck and the sway of her ass strangled a response. One last meal for the condemned man. He put on his shirt and joined her at the table. Hungrier than he’d expected, Reid ate two turkey sandwiches. Could he talk her into letting him pack food for the road?

He snagged a peach slice from a bowl. “I’ll stack the logs with the rest of the wood on the side of the cabin. Where should I pile the trash?”

“Out front in the yard is fine. A truck will be here at the end of next week to haul it away. Between what’s in the shed and the loft, I’m sure there will be bags of it.”

“Cleaning up for the summer?”

“No. I’m selling.”

“Why? You love this place.”

“What makes you say that?”

Good question. She said he didn’t know her. He took a long drink of lemonade. “You just seemed to really like it here. It’s a nice place.”

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