The Right Kind of Reckless

by Heather Van Fleet

  Interesting.

  After the blond on Number Six’s shoulders was dropped to the floor, despite the numerous groans from nearly every man in the room, he disappeared into the crowd like a ghost—unreal, untouchable even. Kind of like any man I found attractive nowadays. Bumping into my shoulder, Kenna—sans man and with frown on her face—turned her attention to the rugby crew like I’d done. “You ready? I’m not going to find what I need here tonight, sadly. I mean, where’s a good lay when you need it, huh?” She frowned, eyes squinted into drunken slits.

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think what you need is here anyway. Trust me.” I patted the back of her hand, pulling her toward the door.

  “Don’t coddle me, Addie. I’m not a child,” she mumbled, tilting, tilting, tilting some more…

  “Whoa.” I grabbed her around the waist, yanking her to my side. “I’m not coddling you. I’m protecting you.” My voice cracked. “You asked me not to let you do anything stupid tonight, remember? Taking home some random drunk in a bar qualifies as stupid.”

  “Fine.” She sniffled, wiping at the wet mascara now dripping down her cheeks. “We’ll go.” Side-by-side, we fumbled our way forward, Kenna’s eyelids drooping with every step we took. The girl was breaking my heart. Her stupid ex-boyfriend… If I had it in me to murder someone, he’d be my first victim.

  “I’ll make us hot fudge sundaes and put something funny on for us to watch at your house, okay?”

  She nodded, wiping at her damp cheeks some more. “No chick flicks, right?”

  My chest tightened. “Of course no chick flicks. I promise.”

  “Wait.” She froze, eyes widening. “Gotta pee, first.” Her mood shifted as she spun around.

  “Do you need any help?” I asked.

  Swaying to the left, she propped herself against the wall, red dress rising high on her thighs. “Gotta be strong. Paul said I’m weak. Weak girls go to the bathroom with their friends. I’m not weak.”

  She wouldn’t let this go, not with the mention of him, so I nodded and curled my toes inside my boots so I wouldn’t follow. “Fine. But if you’re not back in five, I’m coming in after you,” I called after her over the now-blaring music.

  Rubbing my hand over my forehead, I sighed. If only I’d had enough guts to keep her home tonight in the first place. I loved her to pieces—wanted her to be happy more than anything else—but this wasn’t the way to go about it.

  Not that I was an expert in dealing with issues myself. I had a crap ton of them that I’d been avoiding like the plague lately. For one, I only had three weeks to go until my rent was due, yet I was also two days into being jobless. The preschool where I’d been working had shut its doors with no explanation, leaving me and twenty other women SOL. I would never ask McKenna for a loan. And my parents? They’d all but forgotten I existed, so that option was out.

  Still…I was twenty-six years young. A strong, savvy woman with a four-year college degree under my belt. There was no doubt in my mind that I could find another job…eventually. And so what if I had to use what was left of my meager savings to pay next month’s rent? That’s what it was there for. Emergencies. I’d get through this. I had no other choice.

  Needing to keep myself busy as I waited for Kenna, I jerked on my coat and planted myself in an empty chair just around the corner from the bathrooms. Setting my wallet and elbows on the table, I longed for a genie to grant me a wish—an IV drip of coffee so I could somehow manage to stay up late tonight to update my résumé and send it to places that bordered my hometown of Carinthia. With the school year already in session, I was screwed when it came to finding a job in any of the neighboring school systems, but I was a planner in need of a plan.

  What I needed right this moment, though, was to find something that would bring in a steady stream of cash to pay for my rent, my living expenses, and the last of my student loans.

  After standing in line at the unemployment office all day and scouring the internet for hours the night before, I’d almost given up. Until the moment I clicked on an ad for a hostess at a local waffle house. Part-time hours, decent pay… It was promising and could, hopefully, get me through a few more months. It was also the first local job that appealed to me. Sure, I had a degree in early childhood education, but when you lived in a small town like Carinthia, with one elementary school and now only one daycare, the options were limited.

  Just when I was ready to go looking for Kenna, a voice interrupted my musings—all deep and hoarse—sending a bout of goose bumps up and down my arms.

  Voice porn. That’s exactly what it sounded like.

  “You do realize its eighty-some degrees in here, right?”

  I grabbed my wallet and set it on my lap. But when I attempted to swivel around in my chair to face him, he—whoever he was—placed his hands on the table along either side of my waist, keeping me from moving.

  I stiffened, readying my elbow to drive back into his gut. “What are you doing?”

  “Saying hello.” Warm breath caressed my cheek as he lowered his chin to my shoulder. Not touching, but just enough to crowd me. The scent of beer and aftershave invaded my senses, and I couldn’t help but inhale, latching on to the scent with all sorts of shame. A still-faceless creeper should not make my tummy tumble like an overloaded dryer.

  God, I needed to get some even more than Kenna did.

  “Well, you said your hello. Now say your goodbye. I’m not interested.”

  I dragged my gaze down his arms, eyes widening at the sight of his hands.

  Strong fingers. Fingers with nails as clean as my own. The same set of fingers I’d seen wrapped around the thighs of the girl on the dance floor.

  Oh God. Of all the guys to approach me, it had to be this one?

  “Can’t help myself,” he whispered. “How about I help you out of this coat?” I tightened my hold on my wallet as his hand grazed the lapel of my jacket.

  “Do you happen to know what personal space is?” I gritted my teeth, warm, yummy smell be damned.

  “Hmm…” Tugging a section of my hair away from my shoulder, he trailed one of his fingers down my arm until his fingers were back on the table. “Not when there are pretty ladies like you—”

  “Save it.” I shivered, warning bells dinging inside my head. “I don’t do strangers at the bar.”

  “Neither do I. Lucky for you I’m just looking for some conversation.”

  I highly doubted that. “I don’t have time for a chat. Now if you’ll excuse me”—I stood and nudged one of his arms out of my way, ignoring the rattle of laughter against my shoulder—“I need to go find my friend.” I glanced around him toward the bathroom, avoiding his gaze.

  “What does your friend look like?” He cleared his throat, sexy voice gone and all business as he moved to sit on the other chair at the table. Was it my imagination, or did he sound nervous?

  Still, it wasn’t any of his business, but… “She’s blond, real tall, skinny, red dress. Drunk off her ass.”

  “Ah. One of those, huh?” He sighed, the sound all high and mighty—knowing too. I hated self-righteous men more than any other kind. “Need help looking for her?”

  “If that’s some kind of skeezy pickup line to try to get me alone, then…” I blinked, hating myself for failing in my attempt to stay composed when I finally met his dark gaze.

  Holy. Hell. This man took gorgeousness to another level—to orgasmic at first sight. Blue eyes, dark hair, dark brows, pink lips, and…dimples?

  Damn, damn, double damn. Why’d there have to be dimples involved?

  “Not that desperate, sweetheart. Trust me.” He scowled.

  Ah, so it would seem Number Six was easily offended.

  “Sorry. That came out wrong.” I shrugged one shoulder, not really sorry at all.

  His lips twitched. “That so?”

  I no
dded, needing to avoid looking into his eyes. But the alternative was his mouth, which was gorgeous too. Or his chest, which was big and bulky and…

  Who was I kidding? This man was straight-up eye candy all over.

  “You’re forgiven.” He winked before grabbing my hand. “Now, follow me.”

  “What are you doing?” I dug my heels into the floor as he tried to pull me along behind him.

  “Finding your friend.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of finding her on my own, thank you.”

  He pursed his lips. “No denying that.” He glanced back at the bar. “But it looks to me like your friend needs more help than you can give her.”

  For more Reckless Hearts

  check out book one in the series

  Reckless Hearts

  On sale now!

  Acknowledgments

  They say writing a book is a lot like raising kids, that it takes a village, and I have to agree. Because without the support of so many people, this book—this series—never would have happened.

  To my husband, Chris. God, where do I even start when it comes to you? You’re my rock. My number one fan. My world, even when things don’t always look the clearest. The day you were diagnosed with cancer was basically the scariest day of my life. Not sure if I ever told you how much I cried after I left that doctor’s office. Not sure if you want to know either. But I did cry. So much so that I had to pull over in the Target parking lot just to clear my eyes. I knew you weren’t going anywhere, that you’d fight the ugly disease and beat it ’til it was bloody. But just the thought nearly killed me, then watching you suffer? Hardest four months of my life. Now, all these months later, cancer-free and feistier than ever, there is nobody else who makes me prouder, who makes me laugh as much as you do. Though I’m not always the most cheerful woman, especially when bookish life gets me down, you still manage to pull me out of my funks. You’re not just my husband, Christopher Wayne, but my best friend too. I can’t imagine what would have happened had you not put that ring under that piece of paper in the passenger’s seat of our car at that gas station in Platteville, Wisconsin.

  Kelsey, Kelsey, Kelsey… As my oldest daughter, I had the pleasure of loving you long before your sisters, obviously. And every day that’s passed since is another day where I can’t get enough of you, regardless of the fact that we butt heads over almost everything. You’re the sweetest of the sweet, KK. The most amazing teenager I know. Continue to be who you are; continue to love all things PLL and TWD. And just know that loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.

  Emma Grace… As my middle daughter, I couldn’t have asked for a better gift in life. You take after your dad when it comes to humor, but everything else is me. Your quirks and love of bad boys and all things Hamilton make me believe that life doesn’t have to be normal to be amazing. That normal is also totally overrated. May you forever sing in the car, curse at the TV, and never care who or what stands in your way in life. Loving you makes me whole.

  Bella Boo… As my youngest daughter, you’ve gifted me with more smiles and hugs and happiness than I ever could have imagined. You are so smart, B. So sweet, and kind, and everything a mother could hope for in a seven-year-old little girl. The whine that comes out of your little lips may put wrinkles by my eyes, but I wear those wrinkles with pride. Everything you are is everything I’ve hoped to have. Loving you, Bella, completes me.

  As far as agents go, Stacey Donaghy, you are the best of the best. You’re not only whip smart and know your way around all things publishing, but you’re my friend. And sometimes that means more to me than anything else.

  To the Sourcebooks team. You’ve made my dreams come true and continue to show me what a publishing house should truly be about. You’ve given my characters homes, and I will forever be thankful for you all.

  Katrina Emmel, Jennifer Griswel, and Jessica Calla… My CPs, my rocks, my three best friends. You ladies are my life and I’m beyond thankful to know you all. And though our worlds are virtual for now, I undoubtedly can say that there are no three greater women alive than you all.

  My Happily Ever Always ladies, Kelly Siskind and Jamie Howard. You two rock my world. God, how I love the way you make me laugh, the way you brighten my Mondays and Fridays. To be paired with you all is the biggest blessing ever.

  JoDeen Anderson… How you deal with my insanity is beyond me, but as far as assistants go, you’re the best of the best. Thank you for all you do. xoxo

  Jazmin from Three Filthy Bookers… You were my first Colly fan, and you have no idea what that meant to me…means to me, more so. I will forever write my boys with you in mind now, praying and hoping that you’ll continue loving them for years to come. You’re the sweetest person, and I am so glad to know you.

  To Christina June. You beta read an early version of this book for me and led me down the right path as far as his idiocy went. I’m so thankful to know you and call you a friend.

  To my fans. The ones who’ve emailed, messaged, or posted on my pages… I sure as heck hope that Max and Lee-Lee gave you the same rush and love as they did for me. Thank you for reading. Without you, I couldn’t do this.

  About the Author

  Heather Van Fleet is a stay-at-home mom turned book boyfriend connoisseur. She’s a wife to her high school sweetheart and a mom to three girls, and in her spare time, you can find her with her head buried in her Kindle, while guzzling copious amounts of coffee.

  Heather graduated from Black Hawk College in 2003 with an associate’s degree and has worked in the publishing industry for more than five years. She’s represented by Stacey Donaghy of Donaghy Literary Group.

  Find her at HeatherVanFleet.com.

  RECKLESS HEARTS

  It’s three alpha men and a baby in this steamy contemporary romance series

  Addison Booker needs a job desperately. She shows up to interview for a nanny position only to find the sexy, cocky man she can’t get out of her head. Collin Montgomery knows hiring her is a bad idea—she’s the hottest, smartest woman he’s ever met and they disagree about almost everything—but Addison is so good with little Chloe. And there’s no substitute for chemistry, right?

  “An emotional, heartfelt, and absolutely beautiful story. I wanted each character to be my best friend.”

  —Jennifer Blackwood, USA Today bestselling author

  For more Heather Van Fleet, visit:

  sourcebooks.com

  BLANK CANVAS

  A dark contemporary romance series from award-winning author Adriana Anders

  Under Her Skin

  This gentle giant’s scarred hands may be the warmest touch she’ll ever know. If only life were a fairy tale where the world gives you second chances…

  By Her Touch

  He thought he was beyond saving. A cop turned undercover gang member turned…whatever he is now. He thought no one would ever see him as anything but a beast. Until he found her. Until she changed everything.

  In His Hands

  The rules are simple: Never speak to outsiders. Never yearn for something more. And never, ever seek the pleasure of a stolen kiss…or a whispered promise that with him, she can finally be free.

  “Incredibly sexy, heartbreaking, and intense.”

  —Kirkus Reviews for Under Her Skin

  “Gripping and emotionally satisfying.”

  —Publishers Weekly Starred Review for By His Touch

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