Reckless

Even with my bedroom door closed, I can hear the kids in the kitchen. The way their dad talks sweetly to them. His deep voice. Their laughter.

Part of me—a big part of me—wants to go out there and enjoy dinner with them, but after we had lunch in the barn with Ethan and his brother, I don’t need more opportunities to see Ethan with his children. To see how much he adores them. How hard he works to provide for them. How much he wants to spend time with them.

Lucky kids.

Wish I could’ve seen my dad in the middle of the day like that. Laughed with my sister so easily when we were young. The thought makes my stomach ache.

I’m not sure who that woman in the barn was, but she gazed at Ethan like he was a prized stallion she wanted to mount, with or without the audience. I’m surprised she didn’t lean over and lick him to show ownership.

No amount of sexy ruggedness is enough to get me interested in a guy who might be involved elsewhere.

Never mind that he’s still married.

Yeah, complicated.

I’ll stick to my single lifestyle, thank you very much.

The best distraction just so happens to live a few miles down the road.

I pick up my phone and call my sister. Ten minutes later, I jump in Kat’s truck, and we head to her house.

“Hey, preggo. How’s your baby bun?” She can barely fit behind the wheel. How does she still have two months left to go? My vag hurts when I think about that delivery.

“Kickin’ up a storm. I almost peed my pants earlier today, and my back hurts like a mother.”

“Ooooh. Look at you almost curse.” I love teasing my sister. She’s always such a saint. Saint Katherine. I almost snort at my old nickname for her.

“Are you settling in at the ranch? How’s your room?”

I think about the pale blue paint with white trim and the neat bookshelf that’s been alphabetized. The lovely curtains that were obviously sewed with love and care, and the colorful quilt that covers the cushy queen-sized bed.

“It’s perfect.” I avoid telling her about the corner of my room where my shit explodes out of my suitcase. “Like the rest of the house. Spacious.”

Stunning. A dream house, really. A wrap-around porch with a swing and potted plants. Five bedrooms and three and a half baths. A fantastic kitchen with tons of gleaming counter space and every appliance imaginable. Big, comfy couches that make me itch to have a Netflix marathon.

My sister motions to me. “Ethan added a whole addition. Did a ton of work himself. Well, him and his brother. The east side of the house, I think.”

Pregnancy has made her spacey, because she was there when Beverly told us that Ethan had done those renovations. “Yeah, I’ve heard those Carter boys are good with their hands.”

I’m looking forward to something breaking around the house so I can watch Ethan fix it. Hopefully while shirtless.

She glances at me. “Don’t keep me in suspense. How are things going? Is Ethan still getting on your nerves?”

My sister knows I can be a snarky bitch sometimes.

“No, Ethan’s a great guy.” Too great maybe. I fill my lungs with a deep breath and decide to come clean. “Actually, I’m trying not to like him.”

“Oh.” A beat passes. “Oh! Well, what’s wrong with that? He’s single and has his act together.”

Unlike me.

She looks thrilled at this prospect.

“No, he’s not single. He’s in the middle of a divorce. His words, not mine.” I fiddle with a loose thread on my tank top. “Plus, he has ‘rebound’ stamped all over him.”

If that experience with Jamie taught me anything, it’s that guys like Ethan don’t settle down with girls like me. I’m a fun fuck. A good time. A way to burn off steam or sow some wild oats. Not a forever girl. Not someone you keep.

Regret weighs in my heart. How I wish I hadn’t invested so much of myself in that relationship.

Ripping off the loose thread, I suddenly wish I could go back to Austin. “Ethan needs to play the field, get laid, get over his wife, and I don’t want to be just a hookup. I’m not in the mood to be the rebound.”

It doesn’t escape me that Ethan has photos of his wife everywhere. I wish I could say Allison is ugly, but she’s not. She has a button nose and one of those cute pixie haircuts, which makes her gorgeous blonde hair look feather-soft. I toy with the ends of my hair, lamenting the split ends, but a haircut requires money I don’t have.

Kat rubs her belly. “I think all those rosaries Mom says for you are paying off. Listen to you, wanting something more substantial.”

I roll my eyes as she laughs, but I’m glad she doesn’t pick up on my glum mood. I’m here to soak up her happiness. I’m here to mask the fact that I wish I were at dinner with Ethan and his kids. I’m here because I don’t want to think about how he looked at me in the barn when we were standing so close or the fact that Miss Prissy Pants earlier is probably riding him in his free time.

It’s easy for me to think Ethan looked disappointed when I told him I wasn’t joining him and the kids this evening.

Except I know that’s my head playing tricks on me.

Because guys like him don’t do long-term with girls like me.

I might as well get used to that idea.