Free Project: Runaway Bride by Heidi Betts

maybe the fact that she would soon be giving them their first grandchild would soften that blow.
    Charcoal and colored pencils spread out beside her, she began to doodle. Just shapes and squiggly lines at first, a few that looked a bit like flowers. Then, as more solid, structured designs came into her head, the rest of her mind drifted. A left brain/right brain thing allowed her to work with focused intent while also humming one of her favorite songs, lyrics and all.
    The only problem was, the song she started to sing—the one she couldn’t get out of her head no matter how many other tunes she tried to hum instead—made her think of Reid and the first time she’d spent the night with him.
    * * *
    This was the third time he’d brought Chinese. It was becoming a guilty pleasure. He’d call her or she’d call him. Her sisters would be away, leaving her alone in the loft, or he would tell her to come to his place; he’d leave the door unlocked for her. These secret rendezvous made her feel both naughty and vibrantly alive at the same time.
    She shouldn’t be doing it. Should have put a stop to this crazy infatuation after that first time, when she’d known things could so easily get carried away.
    But they meant too much to her. She could talk to Reid in a way she couldn’t with anyone else, because he knew things about her life that she hadn’t shared with anyone else, and she looked forward to their casual get-togethers far too much, feeling as though they were almost the only time she could breathe easily and be herself.
    Because of that, she couldn’t stop. Not yet.
    Besides, it was just dinner. And takeout, at that, not some romantic, candlelit meal at an upscale French restaurant. Just a carton of sweet-and-sour chicken, a couple glasses of wine and some comfortable, friendly conversation that was about something other than the wedding or Zaccaro Fashions.
    Reid arrived with a firm knock, and butterflies she definitely shouldn’t have been feeling unfurled in her belly, spreading to all of her other extremities.
    As soon as she opened the door, he looked her up and down, his gaze raking over her like a touch. Warmth enveloped her, turning her feverish in an instant.
    Maybe she was actually coming down with something. Because having this sort of reaction to Reid was wrong and not typical of her at all. She was normally so levelheaded, so steadfast. Yet being near Reid McCormack made her feel anything but.
    Smiling as he brushed past, he moved to the sofa in the middle of the room and sank down, unloading the paper sack one white-and-red container at a time. Juliet collected utensils and the wine before joining him.
    It was the most natural thing in the world, settling beside him. Except for the little shocks of electricity zinging through her bloodstream and raising every hair on her body. Which only intensified when their knees touched.
    The breath caught in her chest, making it hard to swallow. She only hoped he didn’t notice the tremor of her fingers as she poured their wine.
    In an effort to get herself under control, she closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, then let the air out again as her lashes fluttered open. Reid was mere inches away, staring at her intently, and the oxygen got trapped in her lungs all over again.
    “How about some music?” he asked suddenly, catching her off guard.
    Before she had a chance to reply, he got up from the sofa and moved unerringly to the table in front of the windows that overlooked the street below. Along with a number of other random items she and her sisters kept there was an iPod and a dock with speakers.
    The only problem was, it was Zoe’s iPod. That didn’t bode well for Reid finding a song that wouldn’t split their eardrums or send them into seizures, since Zoe’s current tastes tended toward psychedelic club beats.
    To Juliet’s surprise, though, he did some searching of her sister’s playlists and came up with a beautiful, classical instrumental