Page 23 of That Time in Venice
Chapter8
Today wasdemolitionday.
Anika strolled past the two trucks parked in Reed’s driveway. Reed had liked her idea of opening up the kitchen to the den, so Edgar and his crew were going to knock down the partial wall between bothrooms.
Anika rang thedoorbell.
She had a full day planned. A stop at another house going through demolition across town, with much more work to be done. She also had to make a trip to the building surplus warehouse, the lumber yard, and pay a visit to a craftsman to inspect a custom cabinet he was building for a client. To accommodate the day, she’d dressed comfortably in jeans, Keds, and a fitted orange T-shirt.
The high-pitched scream of a child came from the other side of the door, and Anika took an involuntarystepback.
Another scream came loud and clear, and in the next instant, the door swung open. Reed stood shirtless before her, holding a wriggling Brielle wearing only a pair of striped panties, and whose uncombed curly hair resembled a multitude of wires all overherhead.
Anika’s gaze shifted from the red-faced little girl to the tight-lipped grimace of her father. And then her gaze went lower. To the short, silky hairs on his chest that angled down into the low-slung jeans on his hips. Half-dressed and with fine bristles covering his jaw and chin, Reed looked exhaustedbutsexy.
Anika’s mouth went dry, and she forced her gaze to return to his face. “I came to check on the work,” she half yelled over the screaming child. Brielle flung her body backward in Reed’s arms and screamed even louder, tears pouring down her cheeks. Anika winced, shoulders lifting toward her ears at the eardrum-splitting cry. With those lungs, Brielle had a future in theopera.
Poor Reed appeared to be at the end of his rope, his hair uncombed and frustration evident in his eyes right before he closed them and took a deepbreath.
“I’m sorry about this. The workers are already here. Come on in.” He moved aside so Anika could enter and shut the door. “If you don’t mind, could you—” He broke off as the little soprano lurched backward again. “Brielle, behave yourself,” he muttered through clenchedteeth.
The chastisement didn’t do anything to stop the screaming and only made Brielle add kicking to thetantrum.
“What’s wrong with her?” Anika hollered to be heard above thenoise.
“She’sjust—”
Brielle jerked again, this time lunging toward Anika. The sudden movement made Anika lift her hands, but Reed caughtthegirl.
“I’m sorry.” He gritted his teeth, struggling to maintain a hold on Brielle, who wriggled her tiny body with the speed and dexterity of a serpent. “I’ll get her upstairs and try to calmherdown.”
“No! No!” Brielle screamed at the top of her lungs. Reaching forAnika.
“I’ll only be a minute,” Reed said, an apologetic expression on his face. He turned toward the staircase and Brielle screamed and continued to reach forAnika.
He was a quarter of the way up the staircase when Anika called out, “I can hold her.” Why had shesaidthat?
Reed managed a precarious balancing act on the stairs with his wigglingdaughter. “What?”
“I—I can hold her. Ifit’llhelp.”
He hesitated, taking stock of Brielle’s mottled, tear-streaked face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’s ahandful.”
“I have nieces and nephews,” Anika assured him, feeling moreconfident.
Clearly still doubtful, Reed slowly descended the stairs and after a few seconds of hesitation, handed overBrielle.
Anika gathered the upset child to her chest. “What’s wrong,sweetie?Hmm?”
She spoke in a quiet, soothing voice and rocked Brielle in her arms until the screams quieted to a low whine. With the combination of soft tones and the swaying motion, Brielle relaxed. She rested her head on Anika’s shoulder and huffed out an exhaustedbreath.
Reed stared. “How did youdothat?”
“Magic,” Anika quipped. She rubbed Brielle’s back and could feel the little girl’s racing heart slowing down tonormal.
“Usually I’m more together than this, but man, it’s been a morning.” Reed ran both hands down his face. “Mrs. Miller is running late and should be here any minute.Thankyou.”
“No problem.” She’d always had a good rapport with children. Her little cousins adored her, her friends’ kids always looked forward to her visits, and her brother’s little ones showered her with kisses every time they visited. “I think kids like me because I smell like strawberries.” Shegrinned.
