Reckless, p.24
Reckless, page 24
We lie in silence, the moon casting long shadows through the curtains at the edge of my room.
Drawing circles on his chest, I let out a sigh of relief for how today went. “I’m so glad the judge approved your proposal.”
“God, me too. The guy who provides the livestock is on board, and we’ve worked out that contract. I just hope negotiations with Allison go as smoothly. We spent a lot of time arguing last year, but I thought things were beginning to chill out.”
Hmm. I have a theory.
“I’m sure her finding us half-naked in the back of your truck didn’t help much.”
He heaves a frustrated sigh. “You’re probably right.”
“Sometimes it’s hard for people to move on.” I think back to Vivian’s situation with her ex David, whom she tossed away like a used tissue. When we spoke earlier today, though, you’d think he was the love of her life.
“The only thing I’m concerned about is Allison’s willingness to be a silent partner. She’s never taken an interest in the horses or the business, so that bodes well for us, but having an ex as a partner is not ideal. Logan just wants me to compete again, and he’s willing to do anything to make that happen, even put up with her.”
My hand stills on his chest. Yeah, when I came up with the brilliant plan, I wasn’t really thinking about how that would connect Ethan to Allison even more long-term. This is why I should stick to things like cooking and crafts and bartending.
But I don’t want to compound Ethan’s worry. “Maybe you guys need time for the dust to settle.”
“I hope so, babe.” Turning me in his arms, he lets out a laugh. “I feel like you know my dirty laundry. Please tell me you have a crazy ex story too.”
That’s one topic I haven’t shared this summer, but it’s probably not fair that I know so much about his life, and he doesn’t know this huge thing that happened to me last year.
“I do. In fact, I could probably top your crazy.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah.” I nibble on my lip, hating this subject but wanting to have this conversation out of the way. “I dated someone my last year at UT. I guess I thought we were getting serious only to find out the guy lied the entire time we dated. Pretended to be devoted. Pretended he cared. Made all kinds of promises. Until the day I found out the bastard was married.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Ethan’s whole body stiffens, and he shifts us so he can see my face. “What happened? Please tell me his wife caught his sorry ass.”
Shame washes over me, and I sit up, pulling the sheet up and tucking it around me. “Not exactly.” Part of me hates that I never ratted him out to his wife.
Leaning up, he pulls me to his chest. “I’m so sorry he hurt you, baby.”
“That was the reason I didn’t want to work for you. After Jamie, I didn’t date anyone for over a year, until I moved in with you. I felt like I couldn’t trust my judgment anymore because he had me so fooled. When I interviewed with you, I think I was such a bitch that day because you scared me.”
“I scared you?”
I nod, glad he can’t see the heat traveling up my face. “There you were, this really handsome, intense guy.” Closing my eyes, I can see him that day. The way those stormy blue eyes pierced through me. The way our chemistry pulsed in the air like a live current. “You were dripping wet from washing off in the kitchen sink, flashing those abs and tattoos. A girl would have to be dead, dumb, or decapitated not to be attracted to you.”
His quiet chuckle makes me shift around to face him.
“You think this is funny? That I thought you were so hot, I probably subconsciously sabotaged the interview because I didn’t want to work for someone I was into? That, deep down, I liked the fact that you were pissed off that day? That I couldn’t decide if I wanted to slap you silly or ride you next to your commercial range oven?”
He groans. “Option number two, please.”
“Shut up. You made me break my man diet.” I laugh and smack his arm, but he catches my wrist and pulls me down until I’m resting on his chest. “Do I win? Does my ex’s crazy trump Allison’s?”
“You definitely win.”
The way he kisses me makes me grateful I couldn’t stay away from him.
Maybe the worst is behind me and the best is yet to come. If Ethan is a part of my life, I’m becoming more optimistic about those odds.
44
Tori
I’m folding a green jumper embroidered with tiny frogs when my Aunt Imelda sits primly next to me and folds her hands.
“Isn’t this a lovely shower?” she asks, her intention as obvious as the gun-toting, hooded thief who screams, This is a robbery!
“Yes, tía. It’s perfect.” No dildo cakes. No mis-gifted sex toys. No embarrassing games. My mother must be delighted. Although… my cousin Natalia melted chocolate candies in diapers and made everyone sniff them to guess the candy. That’s gross, right?
Forcing myself to smile, I try to be grateful. My sister got a beautiful shower. She was happy, and that’s all that matters. I won’t retaliate with laundry hijinks.
My feelings are still a wee bit hurt, but I’m an adult. I can be mature. Isn’t this what people call a “learning experience”? And today, I’ve learned you have to get to the front of the line for the cake because that shit goes fast.
Aunt Imelda elbows me while her unibrow wiggles like an angry caterpillar. “So when are you going to settle down and marry a good man? You’re not getting any younger.” She points to the corners of my eyes like I’m an old hag.
Jeeesus. “As soon as I pay off my attorney bill from that time I almost got a felony.”
My mom chokes on her sparkling soda.
What? If I give Imelda a civilized answer, I’m giving her positive reinforcement to be an asshole.
I don’t think my mom hears my internal dialogue because she gives me scary eyes, the ones that make me grateful I’m out of reach.
Ugh, I need to get out of here. I always revert to a teenager when I’m around my family.
Of course, it takes ten years to clean up after the party—thanks, cuz, for not helping with that—hug everyone, and trudge to my car.
By the time I reach Ethan’s gravel driveway, I’m in desperate need of an alcoholic beverage, preferably something so strong you can light it on fire, especially when I see Allison’s sleek black Lexus parked in front of the house.
Motherfuckity.
I consider backing out, but she’s standing on the porch with Ethan and the kids, and they see me.
When I catch the time on the dashboard clock, I let out a curse. Why didn’t I realize I might run into her? It’s Sunday evening, the time I usually hide from the harpy.
When they shift around, probably as bewildered why I’m showing up now as I am, I’m startled by how much they look like a family. All beautiful and tan with dirty-blonde hair and big, blue eyes, the kind of perfect people you see glossing the covers of magazines in the grocery store.
Reluctantly, I park my junker next to her import, and it rushes through me—how much I hate this comparison. I’ll never be Allison with her designer clothes and French manicures. I know Ethan doesn’t care about that stuff, but it’s hard to feel confident next to someone who looks like his ex does.
With a quick glance in the rearview mirror to make sure I don’t have raccoon eyes, I smooth down my sundress and slide out of the car. Hey, I tell myself. At least this time I’m wearing underwear, and I’m not half-naked and hungover in the back of Ethan’s truck.
Ah, gallows humor.
Ethan’s attention zeroes in on me like a shaft of sunlight. His eyes connect with mine, travel down my dress, pausing on my cleavage, dip down to my legs, and make a slow lift back to my face. I can’t help but smile at him.
“Hey, guys.”
The kids immediately grab my legs and try to scale me like a mountain.
Allison huffs, ignoring me altogether. “Can I invite my parents or not?”
Ethan shifts awkwardly, running a hand over his scruffy chin. “Didn’t think y’all would want to come, honestly.”
Her chest heaves. “You thought I’d miss my own kid’s birthday party?”
“I thought you’d do something for Cody with your family.” His voice is calm despite the hellishly awkward vibe in the air.
“That’s stupid, Ethan. I should bring my parents here for your party. There’s no point in doing separate events for a two-year-old who won’t even remember it. They could use something cheerful since my grandfather just passed. ”
Her shrill voice makes Mila’s bottom lip tremble.
I hate interjecting, but Mila’s two seconds from crying, and if she cries, Cody might join her, especially since he’s tired and rubbing his eyes. “Can I take the kids inside?”
“No. You cannot take my kids inside,” Allison barks.
Ethan places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Actually, hon, do me a favor and take the kids to the diner for some ice cream.” He pulls out his wallet and hands me a twenty-dollar bill.
It’s obvious he doesn’t want Mila and Cody to witness the showdown happening here. I’ve already told Ethan I’m not comfortable driving his truck, but this is probably his way of not contradicting Allison while still protecting the children. He’s such a good guy. He tries so hard. I barely refrain from shooting Allison a dirty look. How could she not want this man?
“I don’t have car seats in my—” I motion toward my rust heap, and I swear Allison’s eye twitches.
“Take the truck.” He’s reaching for his keys, and I’m shaking my head no, and Mila’s yanking on my dress.
No, no, no. I can’t explain why I shouldn’t drive them in front of Allison, not when she’s looking at me like I might infect her with the plague.
But Ethan opens my palm and makes me take the keys. “Please.”
One word.
That’s all he has to say for my resolve to wane, but I have a sinking suspicion his conversation with Allison was going fine until I showed up, so I want to help him however I can.
“Sure. Yeah.”
I just hope he’s not upset with me when I tell him I can’t keep doing this.
* * *
Forty-five minutes later, Logan strolls through the door of the Lone Star, pausing briefly to flirt with one of the waitresses, before sliding into our booth. Cody is asleep in my arms, his ice cream melted into a puddle in his bowl, and Mila clings to my other side, stressed out from watching her parents argue.
“Hey, little darlins,” Logan drawls.
I’m too tired to do more than lift my hand.
I don’t ask why he’s here and Ethan’s not, but something about that pisses me off more than being in the middle of everything. But damn it, it hurts to hear Mila cry over her parents and how she’s worried they’re mad at her. Just thinking about it makes my eyes sting and my belly burn with frustration.
I want to protect these kids, but they’re not mine to protect. I want to protect Ethan, but sometimes he doesn’t feel like he’s mine either. Like on that porch earlier this evening, I had zero control about anything.
And really, who am I to have any say here? I’m the nanny. Not their mom.
Logan taps a finger on his cell. “Heard you guys had a rough time at the ranch. I’m supposed to bring you home as soon as I get a text.”
The meaning is clear. When Allison is gone, we can return.
She’s still there? Jealousy tears through me at the thought of her being alone with Ethan.
Get used to it, genius. You did suggest they remain a team for the sake of the ranch. Plus, it was her house first.
Fuck me sideways, this sucks.
My emotions must be clear as day because Logan gives me a sympathetic smile. I hate that look. I know it well. It’s the one all my friends gave me when they found out I’d been unknowingly dating a married man. “This will all work out. I know my brother.”
I nod, fear making me wonder, Work out for whom?
His phone vibrates, and he smiles as if this is proof of our impending happiness.
But I have a bad feeling about this. All of this.
Logan scoops up Cody, and I help him get the kids situated in his truck before I follow them back to the ranch.
The familiar sounds of baseball make me smile when we walk through the front door, but my sprig of optimism is quickly dashed.
Ethan is sound asleep on the couch. In front of him is an open bottle of wine and two glasses.
Ethan drinks beer.
I look at Logan, but he just shrugs and helps me carry the kids to bed. He does me a favor and doesn’t try to bullshit me and try to make me feel better, and I don’t bother to pretend I’m in a good mood.
When the kids are asleep, I go to my room and close my door, hoping to have some perspective in the morning. Because right now, I don’t have a good perspective. Not at all.
45
Ethan
A hard kick to my leg jars me awake.
“What the fuck?” I snarl at my brother, who’s hovering over me with an eat-shit-and-die expression.
My heart races from the shock to my system, and I realize I’ve been dozing in the living room. The game is over, and it’s dark outside. Shit.
“How long have I been out?” My throat feels like a dusty Texas road after a heat wave. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I try to shake myself out of this lethargy.
“Long enough.”
“Where are the kids?”
“In bed asleep.”
Like the slow flicker of a movie reel through a camera, I remember what happened earlier. The scene on the porch. The look on Mila’s face as she watched me argue with her mother. Tori’s imploring expression when I sent her away. All the arguing. “Fuck.”
“Fuck is right, asshole. What happened here?” He points to the half-empty wine glasses.
The mess in front of me looks like something I need to clean up, but that can’t be what has his panties in a twist.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” His glare, the kind reserved for men who beat their wives and other scum of the earth, prickles my skin. “I tried to talk Allison off the ledge.”
“With wine?” He paces in front of me. “And candles?”
What the fuck is he talking about? “Christ, it’s not what you think. I asked her what she wanted to drink, and she helped herself to shit in the kitchen. It’s her wine. She bought it and left it here. What’s weird about it? And those candles were there before.” Weren’t they? It’s not like we lit them.
“Wow, and everyone thinks you’re the smart one,” he mutters. Crossing his arms, he leans back against the fireplace.
“What are we even talking about right now? You’re mad because I let Allison drink her own wine?”
“No, asshole. I’m not. I could care less if Allison drank every fucking bottle in the house, but did you bother to consider how this”—he swirls a finger at the stemware on the coffee table—“might appear to your current girlfriend? The one who looked like someone’d kicked her puppy when I found her comforting your children at the diner?”
My gut reaction is to scoff. Surely Tori knows my heart by now. That I would never hurt her or cheat on her. Much less with my ex. That’s a one-way trip to the loony bin. I’ve never cheated on anyone and don’t plan to tarnish that track record. Only lowlifes cheat on their women.
But judging by the seriousness in Logan’s tone—and, let’s face it, my brother is rarely serious except when he’s about to level me with something I genuinely need to know—I shouldn’t dismiss his concerns.
“Are Mila and Cody okay?” I rasp, finding it hard to say the words with the giant knot in my throat. I want to ask about Tori too, but one thing at a time.
“I think so. Mila looked a little worse for wear, but she knocked out as soon as we got home. Cody fell asleep in Tori’s arms at the restaurant.” The flare of his nostrils tells me what he’s gonna say before he says it. “You shoulda been the one to go to the diner.”
Nodding, I close my eyes. I know. For my kids. For Tori.
“Did Tori say something?” A whole host of things come to mind, most of which I probably deserve for not taking her feelings into consideration before shoving my keys in her face and making her take the kids.
“Nope. Not a word. Just…silence.”
Damn. That’s not good. Tori’s not one to hide her feelings.
Logan lifts his brow. “I wasn’t the one she wanted to see tonight. Shoulda been you.”
The more he says that, the more frustrated I grow.
He sits next to me, the weight of everything suddenly suffocating. Doesn’t he know I’m doing my best? The divorce, the bills, children who need love and attention constantly, Allison’s demands, the horses in my stable, my employees. It feels like I’m juggling fifty balls at once and about to drop the one thing that makes them all collapse to the ground.
I don’t know what to say except to start at the beginning where all this started.
Resting my elbows on my knees, I run my hands through my hair, feeling more exhausted than before I fell asleep. “Allison was dropping off the kids. She brought up Cody’s birthday and how she wanted to bring her parents and some friends to the party.”
“How did she know about it?” He rubs his chin.
“My guess is Mila spilled the beans.”
He laughs. “That kid.”
We’ve done this before. Back when Dad died. I sat in this here spot and poured my heart out to my brother, who was only a teenager at the time. Told him my girlfriend was pregnant, and I didn’t know which way was up or down. Wasn’t sure what I should do.
The house was a lot smaller then. Logan’s the one who suggested adding on the extra rooms, so Mom could stay here and help with the baby when she arrived, which would’ve been great except Allison never did get along with my mother.
He sinks back into the couch and kicks one ankle over the other. “So Allison decided to invite herself? Did she even give a shit about the kids’ birthdays last year?”
