Reckless, p.22
Reckless, page 22
With how much I’ve been working lately, I thought some father-daughter time might be good. I wanted to make sure Mila was still feeling okay about what we’d talked about last night when I explained that Tori and I were dating.
Pretty sure this new topic takes precedence.
I wait until Mr. Duran’s done choking on his coffee to address my daughter.
Squatting down next to her so that we’re eye to eye, I lower my voice. “Honey, where did you learn that word?” Her blank expression tells me she has no clue what I’m talking about.
Mr. and Mrs. Duran’s laser-point stares burn holes through my body. Christ. Was I ever this nervous with Allison’s parents? They weren’t my biggest fans either, but I can safely say I never cared this much.
I clear my throat. “Mila, where did you learn the word ‘sex’?”
She shrugs. “Uncle Logan.”
Of course. Gonna kill that brother of mine.
“And what do you know about it?” Please, God, I will do anything if she thinks sex is an island in the Pacific.
She shrugs. “Just that he likes to have sex with his girlfriends. Like all the time.” She tilts her head. “Is it a game? Like Monopoly?”
I laugh awkwardly and glance up at Tori’s parents, whose stony expressions freak me out. Turning back to my daughter, I shake my head. “It’s an adult word, okay? Kids shouldn’t be talking about it, but no, it’s not like Monopoly.”
In my head, I put two and two together. She heard my brother use the word ‘girlfriend’ and ‘sex,’ and she equated them. Fucking Logan.
She scrunches her nose, my answer clearly not satisfying her curiosity. Fuck my life. Why don’t I know how to answer this?
Tori reaches over and takes Mila’s other hand, her soft voice immediately soothing to my frayed nerves. “It’s how babies are made, but you don’t have to worry about that for a long, long time.”
For a second, I’m worried Mila’s gonna ask if Logan is trying to have babies with all of his girlfriends—again, please, God, no—but instead, she shrugs again, the concern in her eyes disappearing.
“Can I have some pancakes, Daddy?” she asks, and I nod, relieved to have this conversation over.
Standing, I direct her away from the table. “Mr. and Mrs. Duran, it was nice to meet you. I certainly enjoyed this little exercise in mortification. I hope y’all have a good lunch.”
Kat snickers. “Ethan, you’re the sweetest thing ever. At least that’s what my sister tells me.”
Pretty sure I’m blushing. A grown man. Blushing.
I run my hand over my face and blow out a breath. When my eyes connect with Tori’s, though, the crazy swirl of affection I have for this woman almost overwhelms me. “Take your time here today. Enjoy the visit with your parents.”
For a second, it’s just the two of us, like some scene out of a movie where all the ambient sound fades, and she comes into sharp focus, knocking my heart rate up a few notches with her secret smile.
Yup, pretty sure I’m head over heels for this girl. I give her a wink and quickly nod to her scary parents before I scoop up my daughter and head for the counter to order her some pancakes in a to-go box.
Because we need to go. ASAP.
* * *
“What happened?” Logan’s laughing so hard, he snorts, and I shove him off the living room couch. He lands on the carpet with a loud thump and rolls onto his back.
He clutches his stomach, tears streaming down his face as he relishes one of the most awkward moments of my life.
“Mila said what?” he asks again, more for dramatic effect than the need to have me repeat it.
“Get off the fucking floor.”
“Oh, my God. That’s hysterical.” With a quick swipe of his palm, he wipes one eye and then the other. “Bro.”
I can’t make out what else he mutters because blood is pulsing in my ears. Taking a deep breath, I try to calm down before I choke my sibling.
Once I’m confident I won’t stroke out from anger, I try to put into words how utterly embarrassing this situation was.
My eyes dart to the hallway, ensuring my kids are still taking their afternoon naps, before I jab a finger in his direction. “What do I always tell you? Mila isn’t window dressing. She fucking hears you talk about your dating life, dumbass. Thanks for her first lesson on sex, for traumatizing me, Tori, her parents. Fuck, her parents. You should’ve seen their expressions. Like I was an ax murderer. Like I had defiled their daughter and then told my kid about it.”
With my hand to my forehead, I try to focus on the silver lining. “’Course, Tori came to my rescue. As always.”
“Love that girl.” Logan pats himself on the back. Literally. “Pretty sure you have me to thank for planting her cute little ass in your life.”
“Don’t talk about her ass,” I growl, even though I know he doesn’t think of her that way. He’d better not be jerking it to thoughts of Tori.
“Just saying you can’t be too angry at me since I’m the reason she’s here in the first place. And hey, have you even thought about our court appointment this week since all this happened?”
I still. Then scratch my chin.
My silence is the only answer he needs, and his trademark smirk spreads on his face. I hate when he’s right. I’ve been a mess of nerves, and while informing Tori’s parents that I’ve fucked their daughter is not exactly the reprieve I was looking for, it has rewired my headspace.
Now that I’m home, though, now that I’ve had some time to mull it over, there are a million things I wish I’d told Mr. and Mrs. Duran. Like how much I adore their daughter. That she’s one of the most capable people I’ve ever met. That they raised a brilliant, passionate woman who’s an amazing example for my kids.
Did I say any of that? No. I stumbled through a terrible description of sex, one that only confused Mila, and then hightailed it out of there. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I groan, dropping my head into my hands.
Never again. Tori deserves better.
The front door opens and shuts with a soft click. Tori drops her bag in the front hall, traipses across the living room, and plunks herself on my lap.
Before I can begin to figure out how to apologize for this morning, she beats me to it after planting a soft kiss on my lips.
“I’m so sorry you got ambushed. I didn’t realize Kat was meeting up with our parents.” She shudders. “I’d never drag you into something like that on purpose.”
Having her in my arms immediately puts me at ease. “Nothing to apologize for, honey. I’m sorry I didn’t handle it better.”
She nibbles on her bottom lip. “I feel bad. You guys have a lot going on this week. You don’t need more stress.”
Logan, who’s still on the floor, groans. “Shit. Guess I need to wear a suit on Friday, right?”
My suit is ready to go. In fact, every morning when I see it hanging in my closet, it gives me a little heartburn, knowing why I need it ready. “That’s probably a good idea. We can’t show up looking like bums.”
“Speaking of.” Tori tugs on my t-shirt. “I’ve been thinking about your situation.”
I lift an eyebrow.
“Why you don’t compete anymore in those cutting horse competitions.”
All of my muscles tense, and I lean back, trying to put some space between me and Tori even though she’s sitting on my lap. Not sure why this puts me on edge, but it does.
She must sense my anxiety because she pats my chest. “I get that there’s a cashflow problem. That the competitions are expensive. But the purses are fairly substantial, and a few years of doing the cutting circuit could get you out of debt with Allison.”
All shit I’ve debated and analyzed this summer, except I don’t see how we can make it happen.
“What’s the biggest expense if you wanted to compete?” she asks. “The guy who provides the cattle?”
I scoot out from under her and stand up. This whole discussion makes my skin itch. “Yeah. That eats up a bulk of our budget.”
“And you pay him outright?”
Nodding, I wonder where she’s headed with this.
“This morning my parents were talking about this farming collective they’d heard about from one of their friends.” Tori turns to Logan to explain her parents used to be migrant farmers. “The families all share in the cost and profits, you know, pooling their resources. It got me thinking that maybe you could ask the guy who provides the cattle to do it for a reduced rate for a cut of the profit. That way you’re offsetting the cost. And maybe, if you can get him on board, I wonder if Allison would be open to getting paid that way too. So rather than taking an immediate payout on the ranch, she could view that money as an investment with different terms, say a payout within five years or whatever you guys decide.”
Logan and I look at each other, and that glimmer in his eyes makes me want to put on the brakes.
With a sigh, I yank off my baseball cap and scrub my hand through my hair. “I’d say this plan has potential, but there’s one colossal variable.” Leaning back against the fireplace mantel, I restrain myself from listing all the ways this could go wrong.
Tori gets up and wanders over to me, beaming that luminescent smile, the one that makes me consider jumping off high dives like this one. “Yeah.” She nods, stopping right between my legs. “It assumes you win. That you go to Fort Worth and kick ass.” Her eyes cut to Logan. “Can Ethan do this? Can he go and be the best right out of the gate? Or is he just there to make his Wranglers look good?”
I chuckle and reach for her. I can’t help it. Kinda want to spank her for all that sass. Except she’d like it.
I wait for my brother to say something sarcastic, but his attention drills into me. “Ethan’s the best. I’d bet on him to win. Our daddy always said he was a natural. That he had cutting in his blood like one of the horses. Now, he’d have to qualify with enough points in earlier competitions and we’re already midway through the season, but if anyone could do it, he could.”
Aww, bro.
Feeling a little sentimental, I shrug and struggle to find something to say, but Tori fills the silence. “I wasn’t thinking that you’d have to compete right away, just set the groundwork for it this fall, get your investors on board, and then go for it in the new year so you can have a good shot at qualifying for the Futurity.”
Twisting her in my arms so I can see her face, I smile. “Have you been researching all of this?”
“Maybe.” She bats her eyelashes at me, and I belt out a laugh. “Though I might’ve fallen asleep reading the contest rulebook online.”
I kiss her forehead, feeling cautiously optimistic. But no matter what happens, I’m grateful for this girl in my arms. So fucking grateful.
Logan strides over and smacks me on the back. “Tori’s made some great points. I think we should go for it. Figure shit out along the way. She’s right—you could win the big enchilada in a year or two, and that would take our ranch to a whole new level. If you wanna do this, bro, I got your back. I know Mom will too when she gets back from Chicago.”
We grin at each other like assholes, and Tori coos at us. “You guys are adorable. I always wanted brothers to look out for me the way you two do with each other.”
With a smile on my lips, I pull her closer and whisper, “Baby, I can assure you I do not think of you as my sister.”
Not even a little bit.
41
Tori
“Like this?” Mila asks, her face a mask of seriousness.
“Yes, ma’am. You’re doing great.”
We’re sitting in the family room with a mountain of art and craft supplies. I’m showing her how to make dolls with some artificial flowers, wire, and yarn I found in the sewing room. I made her one the other day, and she loved it, so I thought we could do them together this afternoon to take her mind off her parents, who have that court date to settle their finances.
I didn’t think Ethan told Mila he was going before a judge again today, but when she saw him wearing a suit and tie this morning, I got the feeling she understood he was headed to another serious adult meeting. Kids are so smart. They always sense what’s going on, even if they’re not told.
Making dolls is a great distraction for me too because whenever I think about what today could mean for Ethan, I want to hurl. Ethan talked to Allison for an hour on the phone yesterday, trying to get her to consider the co-op plan I suggested. I could hear bits and pieces from the kitchen, and as much as I tried not to let it bother me, by the end of the convo when Ethan was laughing and sweet, where I could tell she had chilled out and they were getting along, a hot streak of jealousy shot through me.
Deep down, I don’t want them to argue. For the sake of the kids and Ethan’s sanity, I can appreciate how much better their lives will be if everyone gets along.
But there’s a teeny, tiny part that wants Ethan and Allison to stay far, far away from each other.
Like maybe on different continents.
Squinting out the big picture window, I don’t see the giant oak or the rolling hills beyond the ranch’s sprawling front yard. The sounds of the children fade away, replaced with Jamie’s private conversations over a year ago. The ones he’d dart into the other room to take, talking in hushed tones. His muffled laughter making me realize only after the fact that he was never talking to contractors or his parents or friends. I was just too naive and stupid to see the truth.
Thanks for fucking with my head, douchebag.
But I’ve learned from my mistakes.
The biggest mistake was letting that breakup break me. Letting it derail me so much that I failed out of school. How on God’s green planet did I give another person so much control over my life?
Maybe it’s all this fresh air and country living or being away from Austin and the scene of the crime, but it’s so obvious to me that I was too trusting. Worse, though? I didn’t trust myself afterward.
There’s one thing I really need to do for myself right now. If Ethan can go through this horrid divorce and come out in one piece with this awesome business and his amazing family, what the hell is holding me back from finishing my degree? I have two classes—not rocket science telemetry or neurosurgery or decoding hieroglyphs. Surely I can handle two freaking undergrad courses. I’ve saved up enough money this summer to afford them, so I really have no excuse.
I decide right here and now.
This fall, come hell or high water, I’m getting my degree. For myself. Not because my parents are nagging me to do it or because I’ve disappointed my sister or because my boyfriend might be embarrassed that I failed out. For me. To have something I’ve completed that I’m proud of.
Cody pops his head up over the coffee table. “Wook, Toh-wi. Ahhh cuh-lah good.”
God, I love this kid. I hold up my hand for a high five.
“You sure do color good, bud.” I’m delighted that Cody’s talking to me more now. It took a while because even though I knew he liked me, he was a bit shy. “Is that Thomas?” This child is obsessed with trains.
“Yup!”
“Is that what you want for your birthday? A train theme?” Cody’s birthday is in a few weeks, and his dad kissed the hell out of me the other day when I told him I could plan Cody’s party for him.
I’m sure Cody hasn’t a clue what I’m talking about other than we’re discussing trains, which gets me a happy, drooly nod.
Hopefully, my sister will see what an outstanding job I can do with a two-year-old’s birthday party since I’m not allowed to plan her baby shower. Our cousin is coordinating it. Cousin! Where’s the loyalty? No wonder she didn’t want to talk about it or the fact it’s next weekend. Kat claims it’s because I’m already working so hard on Ethan’s ranch. Pfft. I might have to stick a red sock in her whites the next time I do her laundry.
I made one teeny mistake with those bachelorette gifts years ago and I’m still banned from coordinating the festivities. It’s not like I was planning to whip up a dildo cake or anything. Though that would be funny. We could celebrate the fertilization. My parents would die. I laugh to myself.
Kat doesn’t know it yet, but I am totally planning her kid’s first birthday party. It’ll be so much fun, her kid will be farting fairy dust by the end of it.
Mila holds out the small wire figure. “I’m ready for the next part.”
“Awesome. Now keep it still, okay? This is tricky, but I think you can handle it.” I stretch over to the end of the coffee table and retrieve the hot glue gun. “Careful, okay? I’ll put the glue on, but don’t touch it because it’s really hot.”
She gives me a serious nod, and I wait for her to settle the materials in front of me. Leaning forward, I lay down a strip of oozy clear gel. “This will be the prettiest doll ever.” She hands me the flower, and I adhere it to the wire frame, pinching it tight.
When she doesn’t chirp back with her usual enthusiasm, I nudge her with my elbow. “What’s going on in your big brain?” The kid’s obviously thinking really hard over there.
“Um. Nothing.” I wait her out. Finally, she sighs. “Just, I was wondering…” I give her an encouraging smile. Mila could ask me for almost anything, and I’d try to make it happen. “Could we maybe give this one to my mommy?”
“Of course.” I might have my differences with Allison, but I want Mila to feel loved and appreciated, and if that means playing nice with her mother, I’ll gladly do it, even if that woman makes me want to punch her in the throat sometimes. A lopsided grin spreads on her face, and I wrap her in a hug. “You’re the most thoughtful girl ever.”
“You’re the bestest babysitter ever.”
I smile, knowing she means that in the most complimentary way possible even though the word ‘babysitter’ feels as good as rolling around in a bed of pinecones.
Because it’s so transitory. Temporary. Babysitters come and go, and I hope I end up meaning more to these kids than a blurry memory from when they were young.
