Reckless

by Teagan Kade

  I creep one hand to her stomach and trace little circles as we both regain our sanity. That was like nothing I’ve experienced before. I knew it would be good with her, but I had no way of preparing for the physical and mental chemistry we have. It was like climbing without ropes for the first time. A rush and a thrill like I’ve never known, a sense of excitement I know I want to keep chasing.

  We lay there together for a while, basking in the aftermath. She feels strangely familiar, comfortable. The fit of our bodies together… It’s just… somehow, right.

  There was no giggling aversion, no self-conscious withdrawal. She surrendered herself to me in a way no one ever has and I’m not sure how to process it except I know it feels really, really good.

  I lower my head and kiss her shoulder, trying not to grin like a creep at her. Why do I still want to touch her? She looks over at me and our eyes meet. I open my mouth to say something charming, something funny—I want to impress her right now, for some weird reason—but my throat constricts and I simply stare at her.

  The growl of an engine cuts into the perfection of the moment and then, suddenly, we’re both jumping into action.

  “Shit, it’s gotta be Dex,” I mutter.

  We’re both pulling clothes on, zipping things up, straightening ourselves when I hear the front door close.

  “Hey, man, you just get here?” The door to the backroom swings open.

  I’m standing, popping my head through my shirt and Edie is bent over, pulling her socks on when Dex pokes his head in the door.

  I flash him a pissed-off look but he’s not looking at me. His eyes are on the condom wrapper in the middle of the floor. I bend over to pick it up, but he’s already chuckling.

  “Sorry, I didn’t know you had company back here, man,” he says, making an amused but apologetic face.

  “Dude, get the fuck out!” I snap, and he smiles, closing the door.

  I shake my head and turn back to Edie. “Sorry about that. I didn’t know he’d be here so—”

  She’s on her feet already and her cheeks are flushed. “I need to go.”

  “Yeah, okay, can I give you a ride?” I start to offer, but she’s already striding out the door and into the main office.

  “No… no, I’m fine. Thanks…” she finishes awkwardly, not looking at me as she walks out the front door.

  It feels like a strange way to leave things and I don’t like it, but I can feel her closing off and I know I’ve already pushed my way past her walls more than once tonight. I don’t want to test my luck for how many times she’ll let me intrude. Besides, after what just happened, I need a minute to wrap my own head around it.

  I watch from the porch as she climbs into her Jeep and pulls away. I glance at the sky before going back in and realize it’s already light out—just barely, but still. I don’t have any idea how long we were back there repurposing the washing machine that is usually only used for towels and gear, but however long it was, it wasn’t long enough.

  Dex is watching me from the desk, a big stupid grin on his face as he props his feet up when I walk back in.

  “What are you smiling at, dipshit?” I grumble, irritated at him for showing up so early.

  “Nothing, just marveling at your ability to weasel your dick into even the prickliest, most unwelcoming of ‘bushes.’ Nicely done, my man, nicely done. I mean, that’s one for the books. Wait ’til I tell Jasper you nailed—”

  I knock his feet off the desk and send him falling backwards. “You won’t be telling anyone anything unless you want me to knock a few of those teeth loose again, got it?”

  He laughs and gets up, sitting back in the chair and surveying me. “Oh, shit.”

  “What?” I demand, irritation simmering. “Now what’s so funny?”

  “Since when do you not fuck and tell?” he prods.

  “Just shut up.” I don’t like his tone. I want to smack him around some for talking about Edie so flippantly, like she’s just another piece of ass… but if she’s not that, then what the hell is she?

  Fuck. I need to sleep and sort through all this shit.

  Fortunately, I don’t have any tours until this afternoon, so I hand the Den over to Dex and head out, ignoring his teasing comments as I leave.

  *

  Neither distance nor time seems to make the situation any clearer for me, though. I resist the urge to call her later that day and the next day. I texted her a couple times, but she didn’t answer. This is all new to me. I’m not sure what comes next.

  Usually, it’s the other way around. I know plenty about ghosting a chick, blowing off a one-night stand who didn’t quite grasp the temporariness of our hook-up. It’s starting to feel like I’m on the other side of that equation now, and I don’t like it at all.

  Two days, that’s it, I decide. I’ll give her that and then I’m not waiting around.

  I want to see her again, I want to know if what happened was a one-off, random fluke, or if it was something… new. I thought I’d get some clarity, that maybe I’d realize it was just the excitement of our little midnight trek and the poachers that culminated in the most unbelievable sexual experiences of my life. But that doesn’t feel honest and no other easy answers are coming. There is only one thing that’s clear, and that is that I want more of her… soon.

  It’s day two now and I haven’t heard from her. I have to go up to the Ranger station. I figure on the way back down I’ll stop by Gracie’s. It’ll be lunch time and I know she likes to go there. At the very least I know I can steal some of her food and get a reaction out of her that way.

  “Hey Lexi, did my permits come through for the big climb on the Badgerback route?” I ask, closing the door and walking into the tiny cabin.

  Lexi starts to answer, but I hear a voice come from down the hall that stops me from registering anything she has to say.

  Not bothering to say anything, I follow the sound.

  “Deric?” Lexi calls after me, but I don’t stop.

  Sure enough, I hear her again. “Thanks for the help.” It’s Edie.

  She’s walking out of Jasper’s office, a distracted, serious look on her face when I clear my throat.

  “Well, hello there…” I say, crossing my arms and pretending that every fiber in my body isn’t leaping to attention at the sight of her, that I don’t want to go over and ravish her right here and now.

  “Oh, Deric. Hi.” She glances up at me. “Sorry, I can’t talk right now.” She starts to walk past me, but I step backwards, not letting her dismiss me that easily.

  “Okaaaay… so when can you talk?” I persist.

  She seems frustrated and looks away. “I don’t know. Look, you don’t have to do this.”

  I don’t like the tone of her voice. “Do what exactly?”

  She stares at me with a droll expression. “Come on… we both know how you operate. Don’t worry, I’m not going to make your life harder or anything. I get it. It’s fine.”

  She’s not wrong. This is how I operate—normally. But nothing about this feels normal. I watch her walk past me as I struggle to find a suitable way to argue. Ordinarily, I’d be perfectly happy to be the pliant, disposable lover. But watching her leave, damn it, I just don’t like it. I don’t want to be disposable.

  “Deric, I’ve got the papers—” Lexi calls out as I jog after Edie.

  “I’ll come back for them later,” I toss back over my shoulder as I follow her into the parking lot.

  Her windshield is fixed already, as are her windows. I remember how shaken she was after that. Whatever anger I have over her dismissal of me melts instantly.

  She’s at her door when I call out to her. “What if I want you to make my life harder?” I ask, not exactly sure what I mean, but sure I don’t want to be done with this yet.

  She sighs and kicks at the gravel for a moment before biting her lip and answering. “No, you don’t and I don’t either. We’re both better off steering clear of each other. You know that, I know that, the
universe knows that.” She looks sad, tired… closed-off and I want more than anything to see that expression in her eyes when we were lying together speechless.

  “No, I don’t know that, and I don’t think you do either.” She looks back at me doubtfully. For the first time in my life, I hear myself arguing for a second date. “Look, just let me take you to dinner…”

  “Oh nooo… that’s the last thing I need is to have everyone in this tiny town gossiping about me or thinking I’m your latest floozy.” She shakes her head as I resist the urge to be insulted.

  “Fine. I’ll cook you dinner then,” I contend.

  Bad idea, bro. All you know how to make is frozen burritos and cereal.

  “Please.”

  Jesus, where are your balls, man?

  She glances away and brushes her hair behind one ear before finally looking back at me and relenting. “I’m going to regret this…”

  I grin. “No, you’re not.” Well, when she tastes my cooking, she might. “I’ll come pick you up tomorrow night, say seven?”

  She shakes her head. “I’ll drive myself.”

  “You’re kind of difficult, you know that?” I smile, as she climbs into the driver’s seat. “I like it.”

  “No you don’t. You just think you do.” She looks back at me with a look of exasperation.

  On impulse, because I can’t not touch her, I grab her hand through the window and press a kiss to it. “Yes, I do. You’re just not used to it.”

  I watch as she pulls away and, gradually, the smile slides off my face as panic sets in. What the hell am I going to cook for her?

  Shit. Shit… Shit.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  EDIE

  “What am I doing?” I glance at Miss Muffet, but as far as giving life advice goes, tarantulas pretty much suck. Good lord, no wonder it’s been so long since I’ve had a date. Guys want girls that run scared from spiders and here I am talking to one.

  I study myself in the mirrored closet door. I don’t dress up, ever. Day to day, I can pass for a normal enough female, but I showed up to my last date in a pantsuit. It was a very nice, very chic, very expensive pantsuit, but as my sister-in-law Lucy told me later, it doesn’t say ‘first date’ so much as ‘middle school principal.’ Fortunately, I did end up using it plenty for court appearances, so that wasn’t a total loss.

  “I look like I should be on Jersey Shore...” I shoot off a text to Lucy with a quick mirror selfie.

  I drop the phone on the bed, shift and adjust the bust when my phone dings with her response.

  “You look cute, girl! Terrified, but cute. Also, Johnny wants to know the guy’s full name and DOB so he can run a background check on him.” I roll my eyes at her text.

  “Tell my brother that if he was a detective worth his salt, he wouldn’t have to ask. Are you sure I shouldn’t just throw on a blazer? I feel so exposed…”

  There’s actually very little skin showing, except at my shoulders. Lucy runs a boutique and has a bit of a Clueless complex where she’s Cher and I’m some amalgamation of Tai, Dionne, and Mrs. Wendell. Basically, I exist for her to dress up. She’s always sending me clothes to ‘update’ my wardrobe, but in reality I’m pretty sure she’d happily just throw the whole thing out and start fresh.

  “Nah, it’s fun and flirty and totally tasteful. I’ll send you some fresh stuff soon, maybe some cute bralettes and panties too for any future dates, ooh lala! Breathe and gulp some wine—not necessarily in that order.” I smile reading her last message and send her a kiss-face emoji.

  Normally, this stuff sits in my closet painfully neglected, but tonight I wouldn’t mind if it I impressed Deric a little. It’s a ridiculous hope, considering how many women he’s been with. I doubt anything would set me apart at this point short of setting myself on fire. Still, I chew on my lip as I put my earrings on. Maybe it’ll surprise him, at least.

  The sight of my legs so clearly defined in the sleek, black skinny jeans with black suede pumps surprises me. I do like the height it gives me. And, I notice with a short smile, the blousy off-the-shoulder top Lucy gave me does flatter my shoulders, and it’s not so low that you see my gunshot wound scar. It’s “millennial pink” she said, but it just looks like peachy pink to me. I’m not sure what about it is millennial.

  I swipe my mascara and sheer lip tint on. There. That’s as good as it gets.

  Not bad, not bad at all.

  My hand is trembling when I grab my keys.

  Be cool. You got this!

  I repeat it over and over in my head, but as I pull up to the address he texted me—a cute little log cabin-style house with a big wrap-around porch—my stomach has nearly inverted itself.

  I take a steadying breath and close my eyes, reminding myself not to have any expectations for tonight, not to let my guard slip again.

  Right, that’s why you’re dressed like Malibu Barbie…

  Narf, I don’t think I can ever erase from my mind the embarrassment I felt when Dex walked in on us, or the feeling I was just one in a long line of such instances. I mean, who keeps a day bed in their office?

  I shake my head. Deric is a player and he’s only interested in me because I’m not making it easy. It’s novel to him, that’s all, and novelty wears off. He’ll realize that tonight and I won’t have to ignore any more uncomfortable texts.

  I walk up to the door and my hand freezes right before I knock. “Stop being a coward!” I mutter to myself and knock.

  “Well, you’re the sexiest coward I ever saw.” I pull a muscle in my neck as I spin to locate the source of his voice.

  He’s behind me walking up the steps with a bundle of firewood in his arms. All my determination about not having hopes for tonight goes out the window. He’s got a burgundy fitted crew neck sweater with the sleeves rolled up to reveal those insanely muscular arms and I am fairly certain he just got home from a J Crew photoshoot.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he grins, flashing a sexy dimple and reaching forward to open the door for me with a free hand. “Thought we might want to get a fire going and pop the cherry on my fireplace.”

  I arch my eyebrows at him as I walk past. “Charming word choice.”

  He laughs. “Sorry. I thought we could lovingly, respectfully deflower my virginal fireplace this evening.”

  I roll my eyes but I can’t help but laugh as I look around. It’s pretty Spartan—just the key pieces of furniture and a few framed landscape shots on the walls. I get closer and study them while he carries the wood to the fireplace.

  “So, you just moved in?” I ask, as I realize he’s in some of these photos. There’s one in a dusty orange desert with a smiling, shirtless Deric clinging to a wall of rock, though it’s not at all obvious what he is holding on to since it looks pretty sheer from here.

  “Give or take. Finished building it about three months ago. Took a lot longer than I expected, but I learned some new skills in the process.” His back is to me as he kneels in front of the wide river rock fireplace so he doesn’t see my startled expression.

  “You? You built it?”

  He nods and turns around smiling slowly as his gaze travels over my outfit, leaving me surprised and a touch embarrassed. I don’t know why. He’s already seen me naked. He bites his lip slightly and my traitorous stomach does another flip.

  Deric lifts his hands in front of him. “These hands have lots of talents that might surprise you.”

  I squeeze my thighs together, remembering the feel of his fingers on me… in me. Cripes, I’m in trouble.

  “With a reputation like yours, I’m not sure they’d surprise anyone with ears in a thousand-mile radius,” I answer.

  He gives me a sheepish shrug. “That’s fair and I’m sure it won’t make any difference if I say that most of those days are behind me.”

  I give him a sympathetic smile and shake my head. “Nope.”

  He takes me on a quick tour of the main floor. He’s clearly proud and I can’t blame him.
Despite myself, I’m thoroughly impressed.

  We end up in the kitchen where a Tom Petty album is playing. The counters are bare except for a toaster oven and a coffee maker. Either he is a neat freak, or he doesn’t get a lot of use out of the kitchen. Not that I can judge—I’m not exactly a master chef.

  “You want something to drink? Wine? Beer? Hard cider? Sparkling water?” he asks, walking to a cabinet and pulling out a squat tumbler.

  “A glass of wine sounds great,” I answer, and smother a grin as I see him go to the fridge and fill my glass from a brand-new box of refrigerated white zinfandel. I’m surprisingly grateful to see he’s not perfect at everything, after all. “Thanks.”

  “Cheers.” He taps my glass with a bottle of IPA. His eyes don’t leave me as he takes a long drink and I feel the heat rising in me in response.

  He hasn’t even touched me, but my body is aching all over to feel him again.

  We chat innocently enough, and he tells me about his longer-term goals for expanding his business. For a carefree player, he has a lot more ambition than I gave him credit for.

  Dinner turns out to be a roast with salad. It probably didn’t need so much salt, and it probably was done being cooked an hour before he actually took it out, but it’s edible and I’m flattered by the obvious effort. Something about all this feels like he doesn’t do this often.

  “My goal, eventually, is to head my own office.” I admit to him, as we sit in front of his recently deflowered fireplace, drinks in hand.

  “Aren’t you already kind of your own office?” He studies me as he takes a sip of his drink. We’re sitting on the couch and there’s about a foot between us, but his arm is slung over the back and his hand is just barely touching my shoulder. When his thumb rubs against the bare skin, I fight to hide the shiver.

  I laugh. “Well, I’m the only person out here, so I’m not sure that qualifies. The whole point of running an office is to have people under me.”