Reckless

Tiny hands tangle in my hair, and I smile down at Mila. This girl loves playing with my hair almost as much as Cody does.

“Once upon a time…”

In the soft light of her bedroom, I read as quietly as I can to lull her to sleep. Page after page, I watch her snuggle deeper into her cozy bed. Even though I hate these stories, the kind where the woman is beholden to the man for rescuing her, a teeny part of me loves the romance.

“And the prince saved the princess from the dangerous dragon, and they lived happily ever after. The end.”

Her eyes are closed, and she’s breathing so deeply, I’m thinking I can sneak out of here when she crinkles her nose and whispers, “Why couldn’t the princess climb outta the castle by herself? Why’d the prince hafta climb in to save her?”

I smile, loving her inquisitive mind. “Because if the prince had stayed outside of the castle any longer, the dragon would’ve gotten him. This way, the princess is really saving him.”

My crazy answer seems to satisfy her, and she nods into her pillow with a deep sigh.

When I close her bedroom door, Ethan is tiptoeing out of Cody’s room too.

“Sorry you needed to do double duty today,” he says softly as we head toward the living room.

“No worries. I’m glad Cody settled down.”

Usually, Ethan manages to get both kids to bed on his own, but for some reason, Cody was restless tonight and wanted extra snuggle time with his dad. I was happy to help and read to Mila.

Ethan hands me a bag of popcorn when we get settled in front of the TV. He makes a quick call to his mom, and I stifle a laugh when he makes a face at me and says, “Yes, Ma, your pot roast is better,” while he’s shaking his head no.

When he hangs up, I ask how Beverly’s doing.

“She misses the kids, but she’s long overdue for this trip to see her sister.” He reaches across my lap for some popcorn. “She wanted to know how you like your room. If you have everything you need.”

I nod, feeling oddly pleased his mom asked about me. “Tell her the amenities are lovely and that I am so delighted someone introduced me to the washer and dryer.”

“Smartass.” He chuckles and adjusts the volume on the remote.

Even though the couch is enormous, he’s sitting right next to me, so close I can feel the heat from his body.

I shove a huge bite of popcorn into my mouth to distract me from the clean, masculine scent of his body wash. Being around Ethan fresh out of the shower every evening after work is the hardest part of my day. Seeing him barefoot around his house in jeans and old t-shirts suggests a certain intimacy I don’t really have with him.

“Mmm. I love kettle corn,” I say around a mouthful. Despite how nervous he makes me sometimes, I force myself to act like I would around my friends in Austin, which means my inner tomboy is at full throttle. Thus, I’m stuffing my face.

He dips his hand into the bag. “Me too. Between our desserts and your dinners, I’m gonna weigh two tons by the end of the summer.”

“As if. You must burn four thousand calories a day.” It’s true. Ethan works like a dog, slaving from sun-up until sun-down in the sweltering barn. Sometimes after the kids are in bed, he ties the long-range baby monitor to his belt and toils some more. The man has a remarkable work ethic.

And I’m guessing remarkable stamina.

I mean, I can only imagine.

When a commercial comes on for a concert, I smile at the memories. “Ryan Hunter was so good live.”

Ethan turns to me with a nod. “Saw him and his band a few years ago. They kicked ass.”

“I didn’t peg you as an alternative music fan.” Ryan Hunter is known for his acoustic style, original songwriting, and his hot AF face and bod.

Though, now that I’m sitting next to Ethan, I’d say my number one celebrity crush has some competition.

Ethan shrugs. “Brady got me into his music, strangely enough.”

I push him playfully. “He got me into Ryan’s music too. I was in my senior year of high school, and Brady wouldn’t shut up about this band he knew from Boston.”

He gives me a sexy smirk. “I forget you’re still a baby.”

I roll my eyes, but I’m laughing. “Whatever. You can’t help that you’re old.”

It’s weird how natural it feels to give him a hard time. It’s even weirder to figure out we were both at the same Ryan Hunter concert all those years ago.

With us shooting the shit, I can’t help but let down my defenses because, after a week of hanging out, this vibe between us seems natural.

Despite my better judgment, I find myself liking Ethan more than I should. But if the only way I’m going to not like him is to avoid him altogether, then I’ll just have to deal with this puppy crush. Because disappearing in the evenings only hurt his feelings, which I won’t do again.

I’ve also learned that the beautiful redhead I saw last week is a client, and judging from the comments I’ve overheard from Logan, she’s not someone whose attention Ethan welcomes.

Still.

I need to tread carefully.

I figure it’s only two months, and then I’ll go back to Austin. The thought saddens me, but it’s not like I’m a permanent member of this family. Even though I sort of wish I was. Unlike when I was dating Jamie, however, I don’t let myself fantasize.

It would be so easy to daydream. To wonder what it would be like if Ethan and I were together. Like right now? I’d sit closer to him and lean into his broad chest. He’d band one of his big arms around me and kiss the top of my head, and I’d sigh happily and let my hand meander over his stomach and appreciate every one of those ridges. Maybe I’d nuzzle against him. Smell his sexy scent. Lick and nibble my way up his neck until I straddled his lap and felt his thick, hard length through his jeans.

Yes, please.

The benefit to living with this man is seeing him in all manner of dress. My favorite happens to be those thin nylon sweatpants that show exactly how much he’s packing.

More than a mouthful.

The sound of baseball fills the room, snapping my attention to the TV.

“You didn’t check the MLB app, did you?” he asks.

His voice is so sexy. Deep and masculine. Commanding.

“No.” I shake my head to get out of whatever loony place it had gone a moment ago. Is it hot in here? “I would never cheat and see who won.” Squeezing my thighs together, I realize I might need a verrrrry cold shower later.

“Good girl.”

“But I might’ve seen that someone hit a grand slam.” I cringe playfully and wait for him to freak out. The goofball DVRed the Astros game since they played earlier today. He’s very serious about not seeing spoilers before he can watch.

His eyebrows furrow, and he holds his chest. “You’re breaking my heart, Victoria. No ice cream for you this week.”

“What? That’s not fair, you big bully.” I push him, and he yanks me closer and tickles me. Popcorn goes flying.

I yelp, and instantly, his giant paw covers my mouth, and he laughs in my ear. “Shh. Don’t wake up the kids.”

Wiggling as hard as I can, I try to tickle him back, but he’s so big, I’m like a rag doll in his arms. I’m cackling and squealing and kicking my legs. And Jesus Christ, I’m turned on. The harder I fight against him, the stronger that throb between my legs pulses.

He shifts, leans sideways, and the next thing I know, we’re horizontal on the couch. I’m huffing and puffing into his palm and laughing so fucking hard when his amused eyes meet mine.

“Say, ‘Ethan is the tickle master of the universe,’ and I’ll let you go.”

I squint but nod slowly. When he removes his hand, I smirk. “Ethan fights like a little girl!”

Those taunting words are barely out when he covers my mouth with his palm and starts tickling me again.

“Okay!” I scream into his hand. It comes out muffled. “Okay, okay!” I’m practically hyperventilating.

He props himself up, straddling my legs, and hauls my arms over my head. “I’m sorry. What were you saying? Something about how I’m the strongest man you know? How my muscles are so big and impressive?”

I shake my head, smiling, gasping and trying to catch my breath when his gaze travels over my chest. I look down and realize my nipples are rock hard and happily pointing straight at him, my sheer bra and white tank top doing little to mask how turned on I am right now.

His hand tightens on my wrists, and my pulse beats out of control. I love when a guy takes control. And I want Ethan to control this.

When those cobalt-blue eyes brimming with need meet mine, I practically melt into the couch.

Panting, I realize he’s leaning closer, and I let out a small gasp when he lowers himself to me. I’m overwhelmed by his heat. By his weight. By his erection, hard and insistent on my hip. Fuck, yes.

He licks his lips as one hand slowly moves down my arm where goosebumps erupt. And just when I can feel his breath on my skin, just when I start to close my eyes and arch up and give into the desire detonating inside me, a disgruntled baby voice cries, “Daa-dee!” from the monitor.

Like teenagers getting busted for making out, we scramble away from each other.

Ethan rubs his face and takes a deep breath before he turns slowly to me. I can’t read his expression, but now’s not the time to chat.

“It’s okay. Go.” I motion toward the hall. With as much calm as I can muster, I give him a steady smile. “I’ll pause the game.”

Then I wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

An hour later, when he still isn’t back, I poke my head into Cody’s room and see the two of them passed out.

Disappointment washes over me, but also relief. Maybe that interruption was a blessing in disguise. I don’t want to mess this up, and sex or whatever Ethan and I were about to do on the couch definitely would’ve wreaked havoc on our delicate ecosystem here.

He and his son look so sweet together. Cody is nestled in the crook of Ethan’s big arm. My sappy heart pitter-patters in my chest at the sight, but I know I can’t grow attached.

As I watch them, the reality of what almost happened settles in.

I almost broke my year-long fast with a man who is not available.

My shoulders slump when I think about it like this. I’ve heard him and his brother talking about a court date later this month, but Ethan hasn’t exactly explained what that means.

Don’t guys going through a divorce bitch about it? Complain about their exes? Ethan never brings up Allison. Only that one time during my interview almost two weeks ago and then a few days later when he came to my sister’s house for dinner. Allison hasn’t had the kids yet, so I haven’t seen how they act around each other to judge for myself whether he’s still in love with her.

Turning, I see a photo of him and his wife on the dresser. Ethan doesn’t seem the type of guy who would jerk me around if he wanted to reconcile with Allison, but Jamie didn’t seem like the kind of guy who lived a double life either.

See, this is why I instituted the diet. Because I can’t fucking figure out men!

When I’m in my room, I close the door quietly and drop my forehead against it. I don’t want to repeat the same mistakes. I refuse to get my heart detonated by another guy.

I might be jumping the gun, but I know myself, and I could totally fall for someone like Ethan. It scares me. Right now, this is only a crush, but what happens if I sleep with him? We already see each other every day. We have dinner together every day. We watch TV together—alone—almost every night. How long would it take before I was totally in love with him?

Rubbing my temples, I think back to that photo of him and Allison. If they’ve been separated for over a year and things were really over, why did they wait so long to file for divorce?

The questions won’t stop bombarding me. When I slip between my sheets, all I do is toss and turn. Sleep is elusive, and eventually I head to my en-suite shower, crank up the hot water, and hope the sound of the water doesn’t wake everyone up.

I should take a cold shower. I should stop feeding the hunger I have for this man when I know we can’t happen, but I can’t seem to get a hold of myself.

Steam billows up, and I close my eyes and give in, blindly reaching for the shower head. I fumble with the settings until it’s the perfect pulsing tempo and then aim it between my legs.

A gasp escapes me, and I lean against the cold tiles. The tension builds quickly, everything in me begging for relief. I haven’t gotten off once since I’ve been here. I didn’t want to spark something in me that I couldn’t contain, but tonight I can’t seem to care about my good intentions. I just need some relief.

With my eyes clenched shut, I let my thoughts wander. Let myself think about what it would be like with Ethan. How he’d kiss me if he’d had the chance tonight. How he’d move against me. In me. That gorgeous mouth sucking and biting my skin. His huge hands gripping my breasts. His thick cock stroking me in all the right places.

With a muffled cry, I come, my orgasm hitting me so hard, my knees almost buckle.

Exhaustion weighs my limbs down like lead. With as much energy as I can muster, I rinse off and reach for a towel. When I’m back in bed, for some reason my thoughts go to my grandmother, who always believed in signs. She used to tell me if I paid attention to what life told me, I’d always know what to do.

I’m afraid to think about what tonight’s interruption was trying to tell me.

It probably means I’m right, and that Ethan and I will never happen.

Or worse, that we shouldn’t happen.