Reckless

Dinner passes in a whirlwind of pleasantries between Brady, Kat, and Ethan. I watch them and push the food around on my plate and contemplate why this guy is being nice to me when he seemed to loathe my existence two days ago. And I wonder why, when he aims that smile at me, I feel the singe of a live wire, my skin heating and burning under his scrutiny.

Why I can’t seem to catch my breath.

Almost as if…

Almost as if I like him.

Sweat breaks out on my back, and I sink back in my seat.

This is completely unacceptable.

I can’t like a man, especially this man. I will not be charmed by Ethan Carter or his big blue eyes and rough edges.

See, I can do this. I am a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man, and that’s how it’s going to stay.

I straighten my shoulders, proud of my internal pep talk.

“Isn’t that great, Tor?” My sister nudges me with her elbow.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Her eyes widen like I need to pay attention, and I shrug, willing myself not to feel embarrassed.

“Ethan was saying how if you took the nanny position, you could borrow his truck to bartend at night. Since you had mentioned wanting to pick up some shifts somewhere.”

Ugh. Like I really want him to know I don’t have a car. That I don’t have near enough money to fix my old clunker.

When I look up, my eyes connect with his across the table. “That’s… nice of you. Though I’m not sure I have anything worked out yet. No one seems to be hiring around here.”

“Have you tried the Yellow Rose? Just opened up off the access road. I know the guy who runs the place.” He scoops the last spoonful of chili into his mouth, makes a growly noise, and points to the empty bowl. “That was fantastic.”

“Tori made it. She’s a great cook.” Kat rambles on about my “eclectic cuisine” like I studied with Gordon Ramsay or something instead of the truth—that I like to veg out to cooking shows, and I have a big Mexican family that demands ten million tamales at Christmas.

Ethan tips his Corona at me. “Well, dinner was delicious. Chili is one of my favorites.”

“You don’t say.” My eyes shift to my sister, who eats her second helping of cornbread and salad, not daring to touch the chili. “Interesting. My sister said she was really in the mood for chili, and yet she hasn’t eaten one bite.”

Kat shrugs, her lips tilting up. “I started thinking you were right. That I shouldn’t eat anything that spicy.”

“Go figure.”

Izzy yawns over her plate of half-eaten chicken nuggets, and Kat motions for Brady to help her up.

“We’re going to get Izzy ready for bed. You two chat. There’s a fresh pot of coffee brewing and a cheesecake in the freezer, so help yourselves.”

When did she make coffee? I honestly can’t tell if she wants me to work for Ethan or marry the man.

Brady picks up his daughter, and a second later, Ethan and I are alone.

He chuckles and takes a long pull of his beer. His dirty blond hair is disheveled and pointing in ten different directions, but Lord help me, it looks good.

He’s still smiling when I level him with a stare. “Why are you being nice to me? What do you want?” I’ve been around the block enough times to know when something is off. “I’m not going to sleep with you, if that’s what you think you’re getting by having me move in.”

The smile slides off his face. “Jesus, Tori. Do you accuse every potential employer of lechery?”

My face burns, but I’m not ashamed of asking what I need to know. “Because I won’t have sex with you. Not even if you’re the last guy on the planet.”

An annoying smirk quirks his lips. “No one said I was asking, darlin’. Besides”—his eyes pass over me—“you’re not my type.”

For some reason, that irritates me more. “Well, good.”

“Good.” He rubs a rough hand over the stubble on his square jaw. “So we’re clear about that? No sex. Not even if I’m the last man on the planet.”

“Not even then,” I whisper.

We stare at each other, his amused blue eyes studying my face like he’s seeing me for the first time.

His eyebrows lift, and then—I can’t help it—I laugh. We both do.

Before things get any weirder, I get up and start clearing the plates with a sigh. “I’m not good at job interviews.”

“You don’t say.”

“Shocking, I know.” I’m not fool enough to think I had that one law firm internship because of my amazing people skills or grades. No, that came compliments of my sweet sister and her impressive Austin connections. She took me getting fired remarkably well back then, but she wasn’t pregnant when I called her crying because I had gotten axed for telling off one of the partners.

Truth be told, I don’t want to disappoint Kat. It’s one thing to disappoint my parents. They’re used to it. But Kat? For some reason, she seems to think I have potential. It cuts me to the core to think of letting her down. Again.

The only thing that freaks me out more than truly displeasing my sister is a face-to-face encounter with a spider.

Don’t laugh. They’re evil.

I shiver at the thought.

A minute later, Ethan’s by my side at the sink. He grabs the bowls out of my hands and scrubs them down before handing them to me to rinse.

He’s big. Way bigger than I am. Broad and tall and rugged.

Standing so close to him at the sink reminds me of the first time I saw him, shirtless and dripping wet. With all those muscles and that angry ink etched into his golden skin.

The kind of guy to make a girl ache in just the right ways, if he were another guy and I another girl.

This close, I can smell his shower gel. Something manly and crisp. He must’ve showered right before he came over.

I clear my throat. “Would you need me to cook or clean your house too?”

“I’m not hiring you to be my maid. Just to take care of Mila and Cody. I’ll do my best to make them dinner, clean the house, do our laundry. Those aren’t your jobs, and I never want you to feel like they are. If you don’t care that I smell like a barn animal, I can probably come in to make them a quick breakfast if you want. Then you’d only have to make them lunch.”

Something about that image softens me. Ethan slaving away in the heat and stopping to take care of his kids. I’m starting to get what my sister said about this guy doing it all on his own.

“I can handle breakfast and lunch. That’s not a big deal.” I shift to get a quick glance at him and am overwhelmed by his presence when he reaches across me to turn off the faucet.

His voice is low and gravelly. “Listen, I really am sorry for being such an asshole to you the other day. I’d love nothing more than for you to take care of my kids. I promise to stay out of your way and not annoy you too much.”

He dries his hands on his shirt and turns to me, but he’s looking at the ground. “You asked why I’m being nice.” Those big blue eyes shift up until they sear into mine. “Well, I’m a nice guy. No one seems to think that, but I am. I’ve just… I’ve had a rough few years.” As though he’s flipping through a memory book, he frowns and glances away. “I’m going through an ugly divorce, and my mom, who’s been keeping my household together since my wife left, is headed to Chicago on Monday to help her sister. I can’t keep the business afloat and take care of my children by myself. It kills me to admit that, but it’s true. So I guess you could say I need you. I need your help.”

I don’t like how those words, I need you, make me feel soft and squishy, like a piece of bittersweet chocolate left out in the sun. “Why not call one of those nanny agencies? Get someone who’s fingerprinted and meets your qualifications.”

“I’m on some waiting lists, but they’re not sure they’ll find someone willing to live out here.” His eyes turn up to mine, a playfulness brightening his expression. “Should I be worried? Do you have a criminal record for all the coke and hookers?”

I laugh, remembering what I told him the other day. “Not exactly, but—”

“Then it’s fine. Don’t let my kids cook meth or play with sharp objects, and we should be good.”