Reckless, p.5
Reckless, page 5
Although, to be honest, I’m not sure what we argued about. It was more about how Ethan made me feel. Like I wasn’t good enough. Like I was putting him out with my very existence. Like he took one glance at me and found me lacking.
The part of me that’s always screwing up wonders if I was being overly sensitive. That maybe Ethan’s just a crabby ass in general, and I was reading into things that weren’t there. Wouldn’t be the first time.
I know Kat was disappointed in me for how I reacted to Ethan. She gets quiet when she thinks I’m being a dick. Like I’m in timeout and she wants me to think about what I’ve done. It’s annoying as hell. And for the last two days, she’s been really quiet around me. I’m typically not one to shy away from saying what’s on my mind, but I have to be careful with my sister. She’s so hormonal that she’ll start crying if I’m too blunt, and I’m never prepared for her tears.
Kat waits until I drag myself to the kitchen table to level me with an innocent smile. “Did I forget to mention that Ethan is joining us for dinner? Must’ve slipped my mind.”
My brother-in-law chuckles and kisses the top of her head. “I’ll get Izzy cleaned up for dinner while you guys work this out.”
“I’m clean, Dad. I wasn’t rolling around in the barn or anything.” She huffs out a breath, but runs off wash her hands in the bathroom.
Motioning toward his wife, he gives me a crooked grin. “Don’t be too hard on her.”
I roll my eyes, and he laughs.
Once Kat and I are alone, my shoulders slump. “What are you doing? You know Ethan and I are like oil and vinegar.” Really, I can’t explain why I felt so defensive around him. It didn’t help that he was so handsome. Muscular and rugged from working on the ranch. Tatted up and shirtless with his Levi’s hanging low on his hips. Dripping wet with water and temptation.
All the more reason to stay away.
“Oil and vinegar are a great combo on salads.” When I give her a blank stare, she holds up her hands. “Just give him a chance to say his piece, okay? You don’t have to agree to work for him if you’re still not feeling it after dinner, but I think it would be nice to clear the air.”
“I get that you’re in this nesting period and want everyone to hold hands and sing campfire songs while you gestate, so I understand why you want this. But why does he need to clear the air? It’s obvious I’m not who he wants taking care of his kids.”
Tilting her head, she shrugs. “Maybe he was having a bad day. Everyone has them. I just know you shouldn’t write him off because he was grouchy. He’s a single dad doing it all by himself, Tor. He has a lot on his plate, but if you give him a chance, you’ll see he’s a good guy. That he’s trying his best.”
Fuck. When she says it like that.
My sister. Always the peacekeeper.
“Fine. But just because I don’t stab him at dinner with the blunt edge of my fork doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to this, so don’t get your hopes up.”
“You know me,” she chirps. “Zero expectations.”
For some reason, that doesn’t make me feel better.
7
Ethan
A smoky orange sun filters through the trees, washing the horizon in the waning daylight. My truck bumps along the gravel driveway until I pull to a stop behind two Ford F150s.
Brady’s farmhouse isn’t tricked out like mine, but his is far more charming. More welcoming. From the warm glow of the living room behind that picture window to the porch swing, everything about this place says home.
Making my way to the porch, I recognize the improvements he and Kat have made over the years. New siding. Pretty planter boxes. A brand-new playset, complete with a winding slide and monkey bars for their daughter. And rows and rows of lavender bushes that stretch into the distance.
When I reach the front door, I look down to make sure I’m respectable. Jeans. T-shirt. Boots. Sure, maybe I could’ve tried a little harder, dressed up more, but this isn’t a date.
Before I can think too long and hard about why I’m nervous, I wipe my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans.
Yes, this is fucking weird.
Just gotta be nice to Tori, see if we can have a civil conversation. At least I can tell my brother I tried to make this work.
I balance the six-pack of beer in my arm while I knock. Brady said he felt like Corona tonight when I texted to ask what I could bring. Good thing I checked because I was about to get him some Sam Adams, since he’s from Boston and that’s usually what he orders when we hang out.
When Brady opens the door, the smell of chili and baked things I can’t begin to understand how to make waft out.
“Hey, man. Come in. Everyone’s in the kitchen.”
“Whatever you’re making smells amazing.” I hand him the beer and slap him on the back.
“I’d say thank you, but I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
We pass through the living room and into the modest kitchen. I wave to Kat and Izzy, who are sitting at the table, even though my attention immediately zones in on Tori, who is standing at the stove. Her dark brown hair hangs down her back in long waves, and she’s wearing cutoffs that make her ass look like a juicy peach.
My palms itch to feel those sweet curves.
The thought is alarming.
Kat waves me into the room. “Hey, Ethan! I’d get up to hug you, but my baby keeps bumping my kidneys, and I’d rather not jostle the little kickboxer right now.”
I nod and take off my baseball cap. “Good to see you. Thanks for the invitation to dinner.”
Brady holds up the six-pack. “Hey, Tor. Look what Ethan brought. Your favorite beer.”
I’ll be damned. Guess the beer isn’t for him after all.
Finally, the mermaid turns around.
Maybe it’s the way the evening sun shines through the kitchen window, making Tori glow in a dreamy light. Maybe it’s the fact that I was baking like a catfish in the hot sun all day and probably have heat stroke. Or maybe it’s because I’m so hungry I could eat an entire Black Angus by myself. But Tori Duran looks like the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. No makeup or fuss. Just that thick, dark mane and those golden-green eyes staring back. Wary and cautious. Guarded.
Of course she’s guarded, asshole. You were a dick to her the other day.
I do that thing with my face where I try to smile. “Hey, Tori. Nice to see you again.”
The girl laughs humorlessly. “Did you really bring me that beer or did Brady tell you it was for him?”
Rubbing my jaw, I consider how to answer. Lying isn’t my strong suit. Never lied to my wife. Tried not to lie to my parents growing up. What was the point when they could always sniff out the truth anyway? So it doesn’t make sense why I want to now except I don’t want to hurt Tori’s feelings. Plus, something twisted in me suddenly wants to please this girl.
Taking a few steps closer and leaning in, so I don’t curse in front of Izzy, I whisper, “If I admit I got it for your brother-in-law, am I back on your shit list?”
Although I expect my answer to piss her off, the corner of her mouth tilts up like she’s amused. “You haven’t worked your way off it.” Her eyes squint playfully. “But honesty is a start.”
When I smile at her—a real one because I’m genuinely glad to see her—her lips part and she sucks in a breath.
I give her a wink. “I just need one chance, darlin’.”
8
Tori
Dinner passes in a whirlwind of pleasantries between Brady, Kat, and Ethan. I watch them and push the food around on my plate and contemplate why this guy is being nice to me when he seemed to loathe my existence two days ago. And I wonder why, when he aims that smile at me, I feel the singe of a live wire, my skin heating and burning under his scrutiny.
Why I can’t seem to catch my breath.
Almost as if…
Almost as if I like him.
Sweat breaks out on my back, and I sink back in my seat.
This is completely unacceptable.
I can’t like a man, especially this man. I will not be charmed by Ethan Carter or his big blue eyes and rough edges.
See, I can do this. I am a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man, and that’s how it’s going to stay.
I straighten my shoulders, proud of my internal pep talk.
“Isn’t that great, Tor?” My sister nudges me with her elbow.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Her eyes widen like I need to pay attention, and I shrug, willing myself not to feel embarrassed.
“Ethan was saying how if you took the nanny position, you could borrow his truck to bartend at night. Since you had mentioned wanting to pick up some shifts somewhere.”
Ugh. Like I really want him to know I don’t have a car. That I don’t have near enough money to fix my old clunker.
When I look up, my eyes connect with his across the table. “That’s… nice of you. Though I’m not sure I have anything worked out yet. No one seems to be hiring around here.”
“Have you tried the Yellow Rose? Just opened up off the access road. I know the guy who runs the place.” He scoops the last spoonful of chili into his mouth, makes a growly noise, and points to the empty bowl. “That was fantastic.”
“Tori made it. She’s a great cook.” Kat rambles on about my “eclectic cuisine” like I studied with Gordon Ramsay or something instead of the truth—that I like to veg out to cooking shows, and I have a big Mexican family that demands ten million tamales at Christmas.
Ethan tips his Corona at me. “Well, dinner was delicious. Chili is one of my favorites.”
“You don’t say.” My eyes shift to my sister, who eats her second helping of cornbread and salad, not daring to touch the chili. “Interesting. My sister said she was really in the mood for chili, and yet she hasn’t eaten one bite.”
Kat shrugs, her lips tilting up. “I started thinking you were right. That I shouldn’t eat anything that spicy.”
“Go figure.”
Izzy yawns over her plate of half-eaten chicken nuggets, and Kat motions for Brady to help her up.
“We’re going to get Izzy ready for bed. You two chat. There’s a fresh pot of coffee brewing and a cheesecake in the freezer, so help yourselves.”
When did she make coffee? I honestly can’t tell if she wants me to work for Ethan or marry the man.
Brady picks up his daughter, and a second later, Ethan and I are alone.
He chuckles and takes a long pull of his beer. His dirty blond hair is disheveled and pointing in ten different directions, but Lord help me, it looks good.
He’s still smiling when I level him with a stare. “Why are you being nice to me? What do you want?” I’ve been around the block enough times to know when something is off. “I’m not going to sleep with you, if that’s what you think you’re getting by having me move in.”
The smile slides off his face. “Jesus, Tori. Do you accuse every potential employer of lechery?”
My face burns, but I’m not ashamed of asking what I need to know. “Because I won’t have sex with you. Not even if you’re the last guy on the planet.”
An annoying smirk quirks his lips. “No one said I was asking, darlin’. Besides”—his eyes pass over me—“you’re not my type.”
For some reason, that irritates me more. “Well, good.”
“Good.” He rubs a rough hand over the stubble on his square jaw. “So we’re clear about that? No sex. Not even if I’m the last man on the planet.”
“Not even then,” I whisper.
We stare at each other, his amused blue eyes studying my face like he’s seeing me for the first time.
His eyebrows lift, and then—I can’t help it—I laugh. We both do.
Before things get any weirder, I get up and start clearing the plates with a sigh. “I’m not good at job interviews.”
“You don’t say.”
“Shocking, I know.” I’m not fool enough to think I had that one law firm internship because of my amazing people skills or grades. No, that came compliments of my sweet sister and her impressive Austin connections. She took me getting fired remarkably well back then, but she wasn’t pregnant when I called her crying because I had gotten axed for telling off one of the partners.
Truth be told, I don’t want to disappoint Kat. It’s one thing to disappoint my parents. They’re used to it. But Kat? For some reason, she seems to think I have potential. It cuts me to the core to think of letting her down. Again.
The only thing that freaks me out more than truly displeasing my sister is a face-to-face encounter with a spider.
Don’t laugh. They’re evil.
I shiver at the thought.
A minute later, Ethan’s by my side at the sink. He grabs the bowls out of my hands and scrubs them down before handing them to me to rinse.
He’s big. Way bigger than I am. Broad and tall and rugged.
Standing so close to him at the sink reminds me of the first time I saw him, shirtless and dripping wet. With all those muscles and that angry ink etched into his golden skin.
The kind of guy to make a girl ache in just the right ways, if he were another guy and I another girl.
This close, I can smell his shower gel. Something manly and crisp. He must’ve showered right before he came over.
I clear my throat. “Would you need me to cook or clean your house too?”
“I’m not hiring you to be my maid. Just to take care of Mila and Cody. I’ll do my best to make them dinner, clean the house, do our laundry. Those aren’t your jobs, and I never want you to feel like they are. If you don’t care that I smell like a barn animal, I can probably come in to make them a quick breakfast if you want. Then you’d only have to make them lunch.”
Something about that image softens me. Ethan slaving away in the heat and stopping to take care of his kids. I’m starting to get what my sister said about this guy doing it all on his own.
“I can handle breakfast and lunch. That’s not a big deal.” I shift to get a quick glance at him and am overwhelmed by his presence when he reaches across me to turn off the faucet.
His voice is low and gravelly. “Listen, I really am sorry for being such an asshole to you the other day. I’d love nothing more than for you to take care of my kids. I promise to stay out of your way and not annoy you too much.”
He dries his hands on his shirt and turns to me, but he’s looking at the ground. “You asked why I’m being nice.” Those big blue eyes shift up until they sear into mine. “Well, I’m a nice guy. No one seems to think that, but I am. I’ve just… I’ve had a rough few years.” As though he’s flipping through a memory book, he frowns and glances away. “I’m going through an ugly divorce, and my mom, who’s been keeping my household together since my wife left, is headed to Chicago on Monday to help her sister. I can’t keep the business afloat and take care of my children by myself. It kills me to admit that, but it’s true. So I guess you could say I need you. I need your help.”
I don’t like how those words, I need you, make me feel soft and squishy, like a piece of bittersweet chocolate left out in the sun. “Why not call one of those nanny agencies? Get someone who’s fingerprinted and meets your qualifications.”
“I’m on some waiting lists, but they’re not sure they’ll find someone willing to live out here.” His eyes turn up to mine, a playfulness brightening his expression. “Should I be worried? Do you have a criminal record for all the coke and hookers?”
I laugh, remembering what I told him the other day. “Not exactly, but—”
“Then it’s fine. Don’t let my kids cook meth or play with sharp objects, and we should be good.”
9
Ethan
The house feels different with Tori in it. Perhaps because nothing’s really settled. After some begging and eating crow on my part at dinner the other night, Tori agreed to help me for the next two weeks. Long enough to see if she can get someone to sublet her apartment and for me to explore whether an agency can better handle my situation.
It seemed prudent to contact an agency in case Tori and I ended up clashing again. The fact we didn’t at dinner was a pleasant surprise, and if it taught me anything, it’s that I want us to get along in the meantime. I want her to know I’ll treat her well. That I’m not really an asshole.
As for my unbidden attraction to her? I figure it’ll pass. I haven’t been around a beautiful woman in a long time. Living on a ranch doesn’t make socializing easy. I don’t count Mallory Mathers or the like, because hooking up with one of my wife’s friends seems about as smart as jamming a wet finger in a light socket.
It’s been ages since I’ve been with anyone. Not since Allison, and that intimacy ended during her pregnancy with Cody. His second birthday later this summer is a reminder that she shut me out a long time ago. Two years is a long damn time to go without sex. I’m twenty-eight, not eighty.
Maybe my brother is right and I need to get out more. Start dating or something to take the edge off. Especially since Tori made it abundantly clear I’m not the kind of guy she goes for. That we would never have sex.
I chuckle, thinking about the fire in her eyes as the little tornado told me off again. All that passion oozing from her pores.
But she doesn’t have anything to worry about. I’d never take advantage of a woman.
As for her not being my type, well, that’s mostly true.
I’ve always gone for the polite and polished kind of woman. And a little high-maintenance. Not sure why since Allison has been anything but polite in the last few years.
Tori has a wildness about her, a level of honesty I’m not used to. At least not from a perfect stranger.
I think I like it.
I just can’t like it too much.
After so much time out of the dating game, it’s weird to think about diving back in. It’s even weirder to consider dating when my divorce isn’t final yet, but I know from mutual friends that Allison has already been out with other men. The thought makes my chest feel heavy with too many emotions to name.
