Reckless the hartleys, p.1
Reckless (The Hartleys), page 1
Reckless
Valeria Heights
Copyright © 2023 Valeria Heights
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including but not limited to photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, with the exception of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this work is illegal. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
For more information or enquiries concerning reproduction or distribution you can contact the publisher at: valeria@valeriaheights.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Photography on the front cover by Evguenia Joujou
Front and back cover design by Letitia Hasser
Published July 2023 by Valeria Heights
Contents
Dedication
Epigraph
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Chapter Twelve
13. Chapter Thirteen
14. Chapter Fourteen
15. Chapter Fifteen
16. Chapter Sixteen
17. Chapter Seventeen
18. Chapter Eighteen
19. Chapter Nineteen
20. Chapter Twenty
21. Chapter Twenty-One
22. Chapter Twenty-Two
23. Chapter Twenty-Three
24. Chapter Twenty-Four
25. Chapter Twenty-Five
26. Chapter Twenty-Six
27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
30. Chapter Thirty
31. Chapter Thirty-One
32. Chapter Thirty-Two
33. Chapter Thirty-Three
34. Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
The Hartleys Series
Stay Connected
To Mariya,
for laughing at the male humor in this book.
P.S. What I really mean is thank you for the time you spent reading, for the enthusiasm you did it with, and for all the love for my characters.
P.P.S. To my brother-in-law,
for helping me write myself out of a corner. You will probably never read this book and have no clue what I'm talking about, but thank you anyway.
“It is a joy to be hidden, and disaster not to be found.”
D.W. Winnicott
Chapter One
Hannah
My plans for the evening: visit a bar I had never heard of in search of a man I hadn’t seen in years.
The only problem was I couldn’t recognize a single building around me and my phone was currently pressed to my ear, so I couldn’t check the map I used to guide me to my final destination. Apparently, living in Boston for the past five years wasn’t helping me in that particular part of the city. I remembered I had to turn left at some point, but I had no clue where exactly.
“It should take about four to five hours,” my boyfriend Nick said over the phone. Killing the call so I could check the map again was an option, but it seemed rude to do it when details about a heart surgery spilled out of his mouth. He was about to save a life after all. I had decided to make that left turn and see if it got me where I needed to go, when Nick added, “I will be at your place around two.”
“Great,” I tried to fake enthusiasm. Not that I didn’t want to spend time with him. I did. But he meant two in the morning. Lately, we had been seen each other mostly in the middle of the night. I got that his residency pretty much dictated his entire life, but I had a nine to five job and these middle-of-the-night visits had started to become less and less charming and more and more exhausting.
“Do you have plans for tonight?” he asked. “It’s Saturday. You should go out. Have some fun.”
“I am out. I’m doing my friend Clementine a favor.”
That was both a truth and a lie at the same time. I used the word favor because I honestly thought it would help her, but Clem hadn’t asked me for it. In fact, if she knew where I was headed, she would probably call me all kinds of words for crazy and stupid. And rightfully so.
“The one with the dog?” Nick asked. It wasn’t a surprise he couldn’t tell the difference between my friends, my colleagues, and my family. He had never met any of them and we had been together for almost six months now.
“No,” I said, doing my best to hide the disappointment. “That’s my colleague.”
I put him on speaker. I figured that if he couldn’t make the effort to remember the name of my best friend, I was entitled to divide my attention between him and the task I had devoted myself to for the evening.
The app on my phone showed I was going in the right direction, but that couldn’t be true. The buildings around me seemed too old and industrial, but it said I was only two minutes away from my destination.
“Oh, yeah. The colleague. You walked her dog while she was away for a long weekend. I remembered. Who was Clementine again?” I opened my mouth to explain yet again, but he cut me off. “Sorry, babe. I have to go. You will tell me later.”
“Okay. Bye,” I barely managed to say before he hung up.
Maybe I should have mentioned I was looking for someone. A man. But Nick focused on who Clementine was, rather than what I was doing tonight. He also knew nothing about Tyler Hartley. And I knew I couldn’t explain Tyler Hartley in one sentence over a quick phone call.
My first crush. My childhood obsession that bled into my first years of adulthood. The love that brought me to Boston in the first place.
It was too much to unpack in a two-minute conversation.
I didn’t plan on searching for him. That thought never even crossed my mind. Until earlier that day when I saw his photo on social media. A girl had posted it in the middle of the night in a private group I was a member of, with the following text: The cutest bartender in Boston.
I starred at that photo for longer than I should have. Cute didn’t even begin to do him justice. He was gorgeous. His blond hair looked messy, yet somehow perfect. Probably because Tyler Hartley was a total mess himself and it just suited him. His green eyes looked straight into the camera. He was pouring a beer with a carefree smile that I wanted to erase from his flawless face.
Clementine called him for two weeks straight, trying to talk to him. He never returned any of her calls. Didn’t even bother to send her a message. She worried her older brother might be in trouble, and that son of a bitch ignored her because he was busy charming the girls he was serving drinks to at some shady bar.
I finally stopped in front of the questionable establishment Tyler worked in, wondering if I should be feeling bad for acting like a stalker. That was the first time I would be cornering him like that, and I had been in love with the guy for almost a decade, so I decided I shouldn’t make a big deal about it.
Besides, ever since Clem got engaged two years ago, I started preparing myself for the inevitable rendezvous. He was a shitty brother, but he wouldn’t miss her wedding. And yet the nuptials were kept on hold for so long, I forgot about our impending get-together.
I opened the door of that bar without any hesitation, and just waltzed in.
My first impression? The place looked old and neglected.
My second impression? The waitresses were naked.
What a douchebag must the manager be to make them dress like that? They were wearing a top that resembled a bra and shorts that showed half their asses.
The place was a typical man cave. I bet married men going through their midlife crisis loved it. It smelled of wood, leather, alcohol and sweat. Naked women serving them drinks in dimmed lights.
The misogynist’s paradise.
I walked past people, stepping over peanuts and who knows what else on my way over to the bar counter. And there he was, pouring drinks to a group of women. One of them wore a wedding veil. A banner hung over their heads. Last fling before the ring. Why would any woman have a bachelorette party here of all places?
The women burst out laughing, heads flying back, at something Tyler said, and it hit me. They were here for the cutest bartender in Boston. Charming.
These girls were going to stay there for a while by the looks of it, so I took a deep breath and marched over there. I wouldn’t choose to start the conversation in front of an audience, giving our history, but I had no choice apparently.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I imagined Tyler lifting his gaze and meeting mine before I reached the counter, but that didn’t happen. He didn’t even glance in my direction. He
I sat right next to the bachelorette and her friends. They were having a good time and I couldn’t help but smile. I would have to throw a bachelorette party for Clem at some point.
Minutes passed and Tyler seemed unaware of the fact a new customer was sitting there, waiting for a drink. So I cleared my throat and tried to raise my voice enough for him to hear me without sounding like I was desperate go get his attention.
“Excuse me?” I waited for him to turn and finally notice me. He didn’t. “Excuse me? Hello?” I waved my hand in his direction determined to catch his gaze.
The girls were too loud. He was flirting with the one wearing a Maid of Honor crown on her head, leaning closer to her, whispering something in her ear, while she batted her eyelashes.
I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself by calling him a third time, so I just lifted my butt from the wooden stool I was sitting on, leaned over the counter putting my entire upper body in front of the girls.
The laughing and shouting stopped. So did my heart the moment his eyes met mine. The good thing was my brain was still working properly so I managed to say something instead of just starring at him.
“Can I have a drink and a word, please?”
My voice sounded soft and smooth, like I wasn’t affected by the fact we just saw each other for the first time in so many years.
He squinted for a moment, then a half-smirk formed on his lips. He tore his gaze away from mine and looked back at the girls.
“Ladies, can I offer you a table?” He was already waving his hand at a waitress. She practically ran over to him. “Chloe, could you please help the girls move to a table? I need to take care of an issue.”
The word issue was accompanied by his thumb pointing at me. I pursed my lips together, suppressing a smile, not at all offended. On the contrary. I loved the fact I was causing him inconvenience.
The maid of honor took her drink with one sharp movement and sent me a death glare. I cocked my head and flashed her a grin.
“Oh, come on. He’s not that cute. Nor is he that funny.”
I was the last person on the planet to have the right to say something like that to any woman regarding Tyler. My infatuation with him had been of the worst kind. The kind you couldn’t shake off until it completely destroyed you. And perhaps in some cases not even then.
Fortunately for me, I managed to shake it off after he destroyed me.
The girl just scrunched her nose at me and followed her friends to a free table. Chloe gathered the drinks and left me and Tyler alone.
He took a glass and started wiping it dry absent-mindedly. His eyes were slightly narrowed at me. Someone who hadn’t spent years of their life obsessing over his beautiful face wouldn’t even notice. But I did.
“I am not that funny, huh?”
I lifted my chin up. “And I am an issue?”
He put the glass on top of a pyramid of shining glasses, ready to be used. “What do you want, little Spencer?”
That nickname. I used to be so annoyed when he called me that. It made me feel like I was nothing but a little girl to him. When I finally got rid of my ridiculous feelings for him, I found out he never thought about me to begin with, let alone analyze how he perceived me. He didn’t attach a meaning to that nickname. It was all inside my head. Just like the connection I believed we always had.
“I would like a drink.” I wiped a drop of something sticky from the countertop with my middle finger, buying time.
Tyler stepped to the side and waved his hand in the air pointing to the bottles behind his back.
“Scotch, please.”
He barked out a laugh but took two glasses and poured us both a drink.
“Won’t you get in trouble for drinking?”
“I’m the manager,” he gulped his scotch in one go and slammed his glass on the counter, his eyes clinging to my face. “You got your drink. Why are you here?”
“You are the manager?” I asked, thinking about those uniforms the waitresses wore. It didn’t make any sense. Tyler wasn’t the type of man, or should I say pig, to make women expose themselves like that.
“Yes,” he crossed his arms over his chest. “I doubt you came here to ask me about my professional life. So? Care to share?”
He wants to get rid of you. Just tell him and leave.
“Clem wants to talk to you and you’re ignoring her.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“She thinks you might be dead.” That one was a huge stretch and the look on his face told me he was well aware of that. I opted for another tactic. “You’re hiding.” My audacity made him arch a brow and I added. “Busy or not, you can take a phone call.”
“That’s not for you to decide, little Spencer.”
“Yeah, but now I know where you work. And so will your sister. You’re not unreachable anymore.”
Tyler’s face went from patronizing to annoyed in a blink of an eye.
“How did you find me?”
“I have my ways,” I reached for my glass, hoping he wouldn’t pressure me for a real answer. His eyes followed my movement. I took a sip from my scotch, a drink I actually hated, and forced myself not to wince from the awful taste that deprived me of all my other senses for a few seconds there. Lowering my glass to the counter, I discreetly took a few deep breaths.
Inhale.
So what if he found out you are here on pure luck? He doesn’t matter.
Exhale.
You are here to help your best friend. That’s all.
Inhale.
You are not betraying Nick in any way.
Exhale.
You just haven’t had the chance to tell him about Tyler.
“So you walked in here thinking you would tell me what to do and I would obey.” I couldn’t miss the mockery in his voice. “What exactly made you think that?”
My face started burning, it had reddened for sure. What was I thinking really? That I would waltz in here after five years and make him call his family? Something that they hadn’t manage to do themselves.
“Well, no. I thought you might do it for Clem. She really is worried. I wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t.”
We both knew that much was true. I would never come seek him out for anything or anyone else. We starred at each other for a few seconds. Then Chloe, the waitress he asked to move the bachelorette party to a table, appeared next to me and recited orders. Tyler prepared the drinks, and she spent her time eyeing me.
And what the hell was her problem?
“Are you going to call her?” I asked the moment Chloe turned her back on us. I wanted to get this over with and leave.
“Good to see you, little Spencer,” Tyler knocked on the counter with his knuckles. “The drink is on the house.” He turned around and went to talk to a man sitting five stools away from me.
Well, that was a disaster.
I poured the drink in my mouth, immediately regretting my impulsive decision to appear tough, and left cash next to my empty glass. I almost bumped into Chloe on my way out while I mumbled profanity about her boss. Consumed by my anger, I didn’t even bother to apologize.
“Tyler is not a bastard,” she shouted at my back referring to what she heard from my rambling. I turned to face her. “He does everything for the people he loves.”
“His family would disagree.”
“Are you a part of it?”
My throat bobbed. Her tone, her hostile posture made it clear she knew very well I wasn’t.
I wouldn’t usually run away from confrontation, but I felt like a complete failure in that moment. I ignored her question and got out, bolting down the street back to where I came from. When I decided I was already in a safe distance, I stopped, fished my phone out of my purse and called Clem.
“Hey! What’s up?”
“I accidently found your brother and I went to see him,” I didn’t bother with any greeting.
“I…I’m sorry. What?”
I told her about his photo on social media, the bar, my visit. I didn’t tell her he basically kicked me out, but expressed my doubts he would return her calls.
“I think I pissed him off by showing up.”
“Most likely,” Clem sounded amused. “Tyler doesn’t like to be pressured.”
Clem knew all about my feelings for Tyler, but I never got the courage to tell her about our last encounter five years ago. She always advised me not to waste my time and feelings on her brother. I didn’t listen and I got smashed.
