Dirty, Reckless Love

by Lexi Ryan

  “You would have been welcome,” I say. “Ava would’ve loved to have you there.”

  He nods. “I’ll be there next time. Things are going to be different when I get back. Colton 2.0 is gonna blow your mind.”

  “I can’t wait,” I say, and I mean it.

  “So what are you going to do to get Ellie back?”

  I turn up my palms. “I’m going to do what every lovesick guy does when he knows it’s real. I’m going to be there when she’s ready.”

  Ellie

  Saturday, December 15th

  If I close my eyes and focus on the wind rolling off the river and through my hair, I can almost imagine I’m someone else. A woman who’s spending her weekend visiting this cute little tourist town in Indiana. A woman whose most difficult decision for the week will be where to have dinner on Friday and whether she should blow her budget on the Prada bag she spotted on discount. I used to be that girl. Before I took a job in Jackson Harbor and fell for two thrill-seeking bad boys. Before I helped one fight an addiction to pain pills and leaned so hard on the other that I didn’t even realize I’d fallen in love.

  But today I’m someone new. I’m a woman brave enough to show my secrets to the world. A woman who’s invested countless hours in her talents and poured herself into a new opportunity. A woman who knows how to be alone, even if she doesn’t like it, and who believes in herself, even if it doesn’t come naturally.

  “Are you ready?” Maggie asks.

  I turn to Maggie Thompson and smile at the New Hope art gallery owner. My new friend. It’s strange to see a face in person after spending hours replicating it. I see why Bauer loved painting her so much. She’s beautiful. But the woman standing next to me radiates an inner strength the artist never captured. Because he couldn’t show it clearly, or because she didn’t have it yet?

  “I’m ready,” I say, “but I’m scared.”

  She takes my hand and squeezes. “Life’s best gifts lie on the other side of fear.” She nods toward the gallery that sits above the cobbled walkways leading to the riverside. “They’re waiting.”

  She leads the way to her gallery, and I trail a few steps behind. After Huxley was arrested, I decided I needed to get rid of the paintings. I thought about destroying them, but I ultimately decided to give them to the woman who modeled for the originals. When I’d spoken with Maggie nearly three years ago, she made it clear the Discovery collection was an ugly part of her past, and she was happy to see them destroyed. Since I felt guilty for bringing them back to life, I brought the paintings to her. My confession. My secret shame.

  Maggie stops at the French doors at the back of the gallery. She smiles as she watches the people mill around inside. “You see that?” she asks, pointing. “All those people are here because they want to look at something you created.”

  “I still can’t believe you did this for me,” I say.

  She shakes her head. “Nah, I didn’t do anything but give you some walls where you could hang your work. You did this.” Maggie had an artist pull out of a December exhibition spot, which gave me two months to put together a show of my own work. I rented a small studio space in Jackson Harbor and barely slept, barely left my studio for anything but appointments with my real estate clients, food, and sleep. I visited Colton once and made a brief appearance at a girls’ night, but other than that, I painted. I knew what I was being offered and I was determined to make the most of it.

  “You believed in me when the only evidence you had of my talent was a bunch of replicas.”

  She grins and tosses back her curly red hair. “They were damn fine replicas. Anyway, my husband loves them. Something about you being the artist instead of Bauer saved them from the bonfire pile.”

  My gaze snags on a man on the other side of the glass. He catches sight of me and freezes, his intense eyes locking on mine.

  I want to soak him up, to memorize every inch of his face and breathe him in. God, I’ve missed him. Every day I locked myself away and painted. Every time I picked up my phone to text him and made myself put it down.

  “Wow,” Maggie says, a little breathless. “He’s as gorgeous in person as he is in your paintings.”

  “Tall, dark, and bad for me.”

  “Is he yours?”

  I shake my head. “You can’t own a person. You can only hold space for them.”

  “Hmm,” she says. “Looks like he’d hold the whole damn world for you.” She pulls her gaze off him to study me. “Is he really bad for you?”

  “No,” I whisper. “Not at all.”

  “In that case, I’ll send him out.”

  Maggie strolls in through the French doors and takes two flutes of champagne from a server. She hands them to Levi, nodding out toward the patio where I stand. She says something to him, and he smiles, nodding.

  He closes the doors behind him as he joins me. “Some champagne?” His voice is the bridge to a favorite song, and I ache for more. I didn’t know if he’d come tonight. I couldn’t have blamed him if he’d declined my handwritten invitation. But now that I see him here, I realize I didn’t need to worry. Of course he came. This is Levi. My rock. The one I can always rely on.

  “Thanks.” I take the glass from his hand. My fingers slide over his, and sparks of electricity crackle across my skin and up my arms, leaving a trail of heat under my winter coat.

  “Congratulations,” he says. “It’s an amazing turnout.”

  “Maggie is great at this. She knows how to bring people in.”

  He smiles over his glass. “Maybe she got them here, but they’re buying because they like what they see.” He dips his gaze down me, and it feels like he can see right through my coat and the dress beneath. “I like what I see, too.”

  I swallow. “What do you see?”

  “A strong woman who’s talented and brave.” He pauses a beat. “Someone who can do just fine without me.”

  I drag my bottom lip between my teeth. “You’re right about that.”

  He winces. “Yeah. Why don’t you rub it in?”

  I laugh. “That doesn’t mean I want to be, just that I know I can.”

  “I didn’t doubt it.” He lifts a hand and drops it before he touches me. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too.” Kiss me. Don’t make me wait.

  “Have I given you the time and space you needed?” he asks.

  I nod, and he takes the glass from me and sets it with his on the patio’s bistro table. I take his hand, pausing a beat to appreciate the feel of his strong, calloused hand against mine.

  “And can I kiss you now?” he asks, stepping closer. “No regrets?”

  I smile, thinking of the painting inside by that title—a face silhouetted by moonlight, eyes that seem to search the room beyond the painting. “No regrets.”

  “Thank God,” he says. Then he lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me so long that I can feel the eyes inside shifting from my paintings to us. And I don’t even care.

  Levi

  Friday, December 21st

  I prefer my parties quiet. A few friends, a few drinks, and some easy conversation. The kind where I can cut out early to take my girl home, pour her a glass of wine, and make her slow-dance with me in the middle of my living room before I take her to bed and remind us both how good it is to be alive.

  This party is a little too crowded for my newly refined tastes, but since it’s my brother Ethan’s wedding rehearsal dinner, I won’t complain.

  “Hey, good looking.”

  I grin at the gorgeous brunette. She’s found me tucked away in the back corner of the bar, watching everyone else celebrate. She looks so damn hot in a red dress that cradles all her curves and a sultry smile that says she’d rather be somewhere else too.

  She leans against the wall beside me. “Anyone ever tell you you’re prettier when you smile?”

  “This hot chick mentioned it once.” I turn to her and step closer. “She had a thing for guys who were bad for her. An addiction, actually.”r />
  She bites her lip. “That sounds awful. I heard she outgrew that nonsense.”

  I cup her face in my hand and rub my thumb across her bottom lip. “Hell, I hope not.”

  “True story.” She bites my thumb playfully and grins. “She fell for this guy she thought was bad for her, but it turned out he was the very best thing in her life.”

  I step closer and lower my mouth to hers, sliding my hands down her back as we kiss. She tastes like wine and temptation and I want to kiss her forever. Except someone’s tugging on my shirtsleeve.

  “Uncle Levi!”

  I break the kiss and see Lilly making a face at us. “Hey, Lil. What’s up?”

  “Aunt Shay says you two need to get a room.”

  Ellie snorts then smacks her hand over her mouth to cover her giggle.

  I scan the room for my sister and see her sitting in a booth with Molly, they’re both nearly sideways with laughter—though the empty glasses in front of them might also have something to do with their inability to get vertical. “Thanks for delivering the message, kiddo.”

  Lilly beams. “You’re welcome.”

  “While you’re delivering messages, why don’t you let Uncle Brayden know that Molly can’t keep her eyes off him and he should be a man and stop ignoring her.”

  Ellie smacks my arm. “Levi!”

  Lilly wrinkles her nose. “You want them to kiss, don’t you?”

  I shrug. “Uncle Brayden is a little stressed. A kiss could do him some good.”

  Lilly sighs. “If you say so.” Then she scampers across the room to Brayden.

  “You play dirty,” Ellie says, looping her arms behind my neck.

  “Oh yeah.” I cradle her ass in my hands and pull her close. “So I guess the only question is, are you the kind of woman who’s going to stand here eye-fucking me all night and then go home alone? Or are you the kind who’s going to meet me in the kitchen and let me show you just how dirty I can be?”

  A blush creeps up her neck and into her cheeks. “Do you really have to ask?”

  Thank you for reading Dirty, Reckless Love, book three in The Boys of Jackson Harbor series. If you’d like to receive an email when I release a new book, please sign up for my newsletter: http://eepurl.com/qymaH

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  Dirty, Reckless Love © 2018 by Lexi Ryan

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  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to institutions or persons, living or dead, is used fictitiously or purely coincidental.

  Cover and cover image © 2018 by Sara Eirew

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