Redesigned (17 page)

Reed releases his grip and my arm screams in protest. Scarlett’s right. I have it bad, which is why being this close to Reed and alone in the car is the worst idea ever. I’ll just make a fool of myself again.

But I remind myself I’m a grown woman with a semi-functioning superego, even if my id tries to overrule. Self-control and I have been lifelong friends. I can’t let it abandon me now. I fold my hands in my lap, twining my fingers as we ride in silence. The only sound is the Coldplay album playing on the car audio system and the thump-thump of the windshield wipers.

He’s stiff in his seat. He looks nervous.

I cast a glance at him, but keep my body facing forward. “Tucker said he told you that he’d beat the crap out of you if you so much as talked to me. Tucker doesn’t make idle threats. Are you willing to risk it?”

His mouth presses tight. “I’ll take my chances.”

The rain has let up slightly when we reach the tutoring center, but Reed has an umbrella. He’s out of the car and holding it over my head when I get out.

My hair has begun to dry, but my clothes are still damp and stuck to my body. I glance down and see that my white blouse is still transparent, giving Reed a perfect view of my bra.

But he doesn’t look down. In fact, he keeps his eyes averted. “I have a jacket in the trunk. I can pull it out if you want to wear it inside.”

I don’t want to take anything from him. I don’t want him to be so nice to me. It’s hard to be mad at him, and he deserves my anger. Still, I can’t go inside flashing my bra to a group of kids. “Yeah, thanks.”

He leads me to the covered front porch then runs back to the trunk, pulling out a khaki jacket.

When he reaches me, he holds it up to help me put it on
. Reed, ever the gentleman. Until he looks at
you in disgust after fucking you in a storage room.

Stop. Just get this over with.

When we walk in, the excited squeals coming from down the hall make me smile despite my anxiety over my personal life. Once again, I need a reality check. There are bigger problems than my own.

Evelyn isn’t in the tutoring annex, but the tutors are expecting us. One young woman looks familiar. I think she might have been in my French class in my sophomore year.

I extend my hand. “Hi, I’m Caroline Hunter, and this is Reed Pendergraft. We’re both on the fashion show committee. I’m also a design student and I’m here to take measurements of some of the children.”

The girl shakes my hand, then Reed’s, her eyes lingering on him. She gives him a flirty smile.

“I’m Bethany, and we’ve been expecting you. The kids are
very
excited.”

A twinge of jealousy stirs in my head. I’m the one measuring the kids. Why is she talking to him?

Because Reed Pendergraft is one sexy man, especially since I know what’s under that blue dress shirt and I know what he can do with what’s hidden beneath his gray dress pants.

“Are you okay?” Bethany asks. “You look a little flushed.”

Great. Now I’ve been caught daydreaming about Reed’s body. “I’m fine. It’s a little warm in here.”

“Do you want me to take your coat?” she asks reaching for it.

“No.” If I stop thinking about Reed, I’ll be fine, but that’s hard to do when he’s standing so close to me. “I’ll keep it for now.”

“Okay.” She looks around the room. “Where would you like to do this?”

“We can do it anywhere. I’m measuring over their clothes so there won’t be any modesty issues.”

“Very good. We’ll just take you to a classroom and bring the students to you. Evelyn has already assigned them to the design students.” She leads us to Desiree’s room, which is empty. “We thought this room would be easier because there’s more space. Margery is getting the children now.”

The girls pour into the room, giggling with excitement. Reed stands in the corner watching the children like they’re hyenas about to attack.

I set my bag on the table and pull out my notebook, pen and tape measure. I’m excited to see two boys in the group, but I notice Desiree is missing.

“Where’s Desiree?”

“She’s sick today,” one of the little girls answers.

I hide my disappointment. I’ll just come back to measure her. It’s not convenient, but I’ll make it work.

I study the excited group, trying to figure out whom to start with. The girls are giggly, but the boys have begun to roughhouse. “Why don’t we measure the boys first, then send them back to their rooms?”

Bethany laughs. “Great idea. You must have worked with kids before.”

“Nah, I had a brother.”

Bethany looks over her shoulder. “Mark, you’re first.” He approaches with a shy smile, refusing to look at me.

“Hi, Mark. I’m Caroline, and I’m going to take your measurements.”

He nods, but he looks nervous.

“How old are you?”

“Nine.” His eyes dart from me to Reed in the corner.

“It won’t hurt at all, okay.” I hold up the measuring tape. “See? This is all I’ll use and then I’ll write the measurements down.”

Reed moves next me and pulls out a chair, sitting on the tiny seat. He looks like a giant in Lilliput. His dress pants, blue dress shirt and yellow tie make him look even more out of place.

Several of the kids snicker.

Reed makes an exaggerated face to make them laugh and looks around in mock surprise.

“What?”

I stare at him for a moment. With his gruff exterior, I never expected him to tolerate children, let alone entertain them. There’s more to the guy than I expected.

Mark keeps his eyes on Reed.

“That’s Reed. He’s going to watch.”

Reed reaches over and picks up the notebook and pen. “Reed is going to
help
.”

I give him a questioning look. “You don’t have to do that. Your responsibilities only include playing chauffeur.”

“I want to help. I’ll write down everything you tell me to. I promise I won’t screw it up.” He glances at Mark and grimaces. “I mean mess it up.”

Mark continues to watch Reed and he’s less fidgety and stiff. Reed’s helped the boy relax.

I lean close to Reed. His scent fills my nose and goes straight to my head. If I was standing, my knees would go weak. Over his scent. I give myself a mental shake.
Get yourself together
. I avoid looking into his face as I point to the paper. “Okay, but write these vertically: shoulders, chest, waist, hips, torso, legs, shoulder to floor.”

Reed writes them down without comment in tight, legible script. I was worried I’d have trouble deciphering his handwriting later, but it turns out Reed’s handwriting is neater than mine.

I turn to Mark and spin him around so I can see his back. “Are you excited about the fashion show?”

He shrugs.

“You look more like a sports kind of guy.” Reed says, tapping the pen on the notebook. “Do you play soccer?”

“Yeah,” Mark answers as I measure his shoulders.

I tell Reed the measurement, then spin Mark to face me.

“Do you know Tucker Price?” Reed asks.

Mark’s eyes light up as I slip the measuring tape around his back to measure his chest.

“Everybody knows about Tucker Price.”

Tucker was Southern’s claim to fame—acclaimed soccer star who got recruited by the Chicago Fire his junior year. The entire town would show up for Southern’s home games just to watch him play.

“Well, Caroline is good friends with Tucker.”

Mark’s mouth drops. “
You are
?”

I wink. “I am. In fact, I just saw him a couple of days ago.”

His mouth forms a disapproving frown. “Why’d he quit the Chicago Fire?”

I wrap the tape around his waist. “Professional soccer is a lot of work and it wasn’t fun for him anymore.”

His eyes narrow as he considers my answer then his eyes light up. “Math’s not fun. Can I quit it?”

I laugh. “Good try, but I should warn you about this guy”—I point to Reed with my thumb —“He’s going to school to
teach
math. I think you might have insulted him.”

Mark looks unimpressed as he turns to Reed. “What about you? Are you friends with Tucker Price?”

“As a matter of fact,” Reed pauses, writing something in the margin. “I met him just the other day and he promised to let me get to know him even better.” He gives Mark a smirk.

I watch Reed for several seconds. He fully expects Tucker to enforce some type of physical punishment. And yet he’s here anyway. Why?

“Cool….” Mark’s impressed with Reed’s answer, oblivious to what he meant.

Reed snorts and shakes his head.

We finish Mark’s measurements then Bethany sends over the next boy.

By the time I’ve measured seven kids, Reed and I have worked out a system. He writes down measurements, and I notice that he’s adding notes about each child’s age, personality and interests.

We finish measuring Brittany, a twelve-year-old girl who wants to be a model when she grows up, and the crazy thing is that she has the frame and face for it. “Brittany, could you wait a second?” I ask. “I want to draw a quick sketch.”

I reach for the notebook as Reed hands it over, our fingers brushing and sending a jolt to my core.
No touching
.

But I quickly forget Reed as I study Brittany, sketching a skirt and fitted shirt with ruffles, matched with a pair of boots and a purse. She looks the drawing over when I’m done and squeals. “Is that what I’m wearing at the fashion show?”

I laugh. “I’m not sure yet, but you definitely have the figure of a model so I’d like to make sure you look like one when you strut down the runway. Let me see your runway walk.”

She looks self-conscious as she walks across the room, bowing her head.

“You can do better than that,” I tease, standing and handing the notebook to Reed. “If you want to be a model, I’m sure you’ve watched
America’s Next Top Model
.” My shirt has dried and the room is stuffy with so many bodies in a small space. I slide Reed’s jacket off and lay it on the table.

“Yeah….”

“What would Tyra or Ms. J say about that walk? You need to look
fierce
.” I lift my chin. “Head high, shoulders back, then walk with a strut, moving your hips, but not too much, crisscrossing your feet as you walk. Like this.” I put my hands lightly on my hips and walk, a stern look on my face, and the girls giggle. I walk back across the room, demonstrating how to pivot. “Now you try it.”

Brittany gives it a try but still looks embarrassed.

“It’s easy,” I say. “Even Reed can do it.”

Reed’s gaze is on me, his expression unreadable. It takes him a moment to realize what I’ve suggested. “
What
? No.”

The girls cheer.

“Yes!”

“Come on, Reed.”

“Do it.”

Reed groans and gets out of his chair. His eyes narrow and he walks past me, looking into my face. “You
so
owe me.”

My stomach tingles as I think about what I could do to pay him back.
Calm down, Caroline
.

He stands against the wall and looks down at the girls. “The only way I’ll do this is if you girls do it with me.”

They giggle and form a line, Brittany next to Reed. She looks up at him with adoring eyes, and it’s obvious she’s formed a crush on him.
Welcome to Team Reed
.

Reed flashes me a dazzling smile and my knees turn to Jell-O. Where has that smile been the entire time I’ve known him, but self-preservation tells me it’s a good thing he keeps it to himself, or it wouldn’t take any time for me to be naked underneath him, begging for him to take me, consequences be damned.

“Caroline?” Brittany asks.

I shake my head, realizing she’s asked me a question. “What?”

“Should we start?”

“Yeah.” I give them all instructions and Reed follows them as well. With his dress clothes and perfect face, he looks like a real model. He’s a perfect package on the outside and I know what’s under his shirt is perfect as well.

Stop. Focus
.

“Okay, work it, girls.” I wink at Reed. “And guy.”

They walk across the room, and I’m stunned that Reed actually puts in an effort, but Brittany notices too and this walk is her best effort yet. They practice a few more times, but Reed comes and stands behind me to watch.

Reed’s participation has boosted Brittany’s confidence and after several passes, she starts to look like a real model.

“Keep practicing,” I swing my gaze around the room. “All of you. And when I come back to do a final fitting, you can show me how well you’ve done.”

“Will Reed come with you?” Brittany asks wistfully.

“Uh … I’m not sure Reed can—”

“Yes,” Reed says. “I’ll be with her.”

I look over my shoulder at him, and the expression on his face takes my breath away. His gaze is full of something I haven’t seen before. Respect.

I turn back to Brittany. “Well, I guess he’ll be here.”

Bethany returns and takes the girls back to their rooms, leaving the last two with Reed and me. I take their measurements, acutely aware of Reed’s leg several inches from mine. I’m sure he wasn’t this close before. He’s scooted closer.

When the last girl leaves the room, Reed and I are alone, sitting in chairs designed for six year-old-sized butts, but neither one of us move.

This afternoon with him has proven to be dangerous. I’ve seen a playful, appealing side to him and now I don’t just want him, I want
him
. The whole package. Every part of him.

This is ridiculous.

I stand. “I need to ask Evelyn when I can come back to measure Desiree.”

He stares at my lips, then his gaze moves to my eyes. “It sounds like the rain has let up. We can walk over together.”

I pick up my measuring tape and stuff it into my bag. Reed hands over the notebook and I scan his notes.