Ivy Sinclair cut her romance teeth on classics like Gone With the Wind, Casablanca, An Affair to Remember, and Sabrina. She is a firm believer in true love, a happily ever after ending, and the medicinal use of chocolate to cure any ailment of the heart. Ivy’s guilty pleasures include sushi, endless Starbucks lattes, and wine. Readers of Ivy’s stories can expect smoldering sweet stories of romance that tug at the heartstrings.
I was entranced. Anyone with common sense would know that Jackson was a bastard. It shouldn’t have mattered that he married young to someone he barely knew. But that was how Walter Moolen drew the reader in to make Jackson likable and vulnerable beneath his gruff exterior. Camilla, young and inexperienced, didn’t stand a chance once Jackson set his sights on her. I wanted to hate her for being so naive, but instead I found myself rooting for her to win Jackson’s heart.
I just reached the part where Jackson pulled Camilla into his arms for the first time, intent on declaring his desire for her, when I heard the tumble of rocks behind me. I jumped up, and the scream caught in my chest when Reed stepped into the lantern’s light.
“What the hell?” I said, my heart pounding wickedly against my rib cage. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
He put up his hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You must have been pretty deep in thought if you didn’t hear me coming.”
I was torn between chewing him out for interrupting me at such a pivotal plot point in my book, and being thrilled that he was there. Which led me to an obvious question. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to make sure you made it home safely,” he said, cocking his head. “Considering you left Lula’s without letting me know you found another ride. You seem to make friends easily.”
“I’m not the only one,” I retorted, thinking of the two busty blonds hanging on his every word.
Reed looked surprised. “I told Bud that I’d get you home. I’m just upholding my end of the bargain.”
I didn’t know what to make of him. One minute he was all bad boy, and the next he was like this, tentative and uncertain. Which one was the real Reed?
“Obviously I’m fine, safe and sound right where I’m supposed to be,” I said, outstretching my arms to encompass my surroundings. “Sam brought me home hours ago.”
“Sam’s a good guy,” Reed said, moving closer to me. “A little on the soft side, but dependable and reliable. Trustworthy.”
“That’s a good kind of guy to have around,” I said faintly. I had to get a grip. I was acting like a silly girl in a romance novel who never laid eyes on a man before. What was it about Reed that drew me in and made my heart beat so fast?
“Not like a guy like me,” Reed said as if he read my mind. He stopped a foot shy of me. His eyes passed over my shoulder and out to the lake. “I’m sure you heard the warning. Any single woman under the age of forty who sets foot in Bleckerville hears the warning about me as soon as she meets someone like Lula or your Aunt Patrice. I’m a favored topic of town gossip.”
“What warning is that?” It shocked me that he was putting himself out there like that. I was doing nothing but trying to forget my reputation. Reed seemed intent on bringing his out in the open. His glittering eyes focused back on mine. The intensity in them took my breath away.
“To stay away. Don’t get involved. That the bad things that happened to me in my youth left me heartless and cruel when it comes to the fairer sex,” he said.
“Is that true?”
His hand reached out, and his fingertips pushed a stray strand of my hair behind my ear. “It usually doesn’t matter. Reputations are built on kernels of truth. People might change, but in a town like this, reputations don’t. The only way I’d ever stand a chance of getting away from it would be to leave Bleckerville, which I can’t do.”
As someone plagued by a reputation that I earned, but didn’t feel like I deserved, I knew exactly what he meant. No matter what I did or said, my parents, my college friends, my teachers, even Millie at times, all still judged me by the person that I used to be. I was the person who let Trevor in and proceeded to let him walk all over me, even when he walked me right to the edge of a metaphorical cliff and left me dangling with no help in sight.
“I prefer not to judge someone by what other people say about them. I make my own decisions,” I said, raising my chin. “All’s I ask is that I get the same consideration.” Remembering his earlier insinuation, I decided to call him out. If we were going to be honest, then we were going to be honest.
Reed dug his hands into his pockets. “I might have heard a few things about you.”
“I’m sure you have,” I said. I felt a flash of anger. “Is that why you’re here? To see if the bad girl is as naughty as they say she is? Seems like if you were looking for an easy lay, you could have taken a turn with either of those blond bimbos at the bar.”
Reed’s expression was unreadable. He leaned in and my breath caught in my throat. “And just like that, you judged me just like everyone else in this shithole town would without even knowing if what they’re saying is true.”
Then he moved around me. The imaginary bindings around my chest that I didn’t even realize were there loosened. I turned and watched him walk across the sand to the water’s edge. His arm ratcheted back, and then pushed forward and I heard the plop of something dropping into the water.
I made my way down to stand a few feet away from him. I was ashamed of myself. He was right. So far, he had done nothing to me. He changed my flat tire. He offered me a ride home. He appeared in the moonlight and made no movement toward seduction, which I admit was mildly disappointing. So far, the only person being an ass was me.
“I guess I deserved that,” I said.
