Reckless Hearts Series, Book 1

by Heather Van Fleet

  “Maybe I need one of those to get my mind off Paul.” McKenna plopped down on the stool next to mine and laid her blond head on my shoulder.

  “No. What you need is to go to Maine with your brother and sister-in-law and find some inner peace. Maybe avoid men altogether. Then when you come back, you’ll have a fresh perspective and—”

  A sandy-haired Duhamel-meets-Tatum hottie smacked into the side of her seat.

  “Oh shit,” Kenna squealed, tipping forward off the stool.

  Sucked out of my therapist mode, I shoved the drunk asshole back and reached for Kenna’s hand to help her up. “You okay?”

  With a glare pointed in my direction, Duhamel-Tatum pushed my hand away, playing the knight-in-black-rugby-shorts to Kenna. In a matter of seconds, she was on her feet, leaning against his large body like it was her newest lifeline. Her eyes widened as she took him in, black lashes batting against her cheeks in awe. I sighed. Her new plan to avoid men seemed null and void already. Not that I could blame her; Rude Man was gorgeous.

  I turned away to give her a moment to recover—and flirt. Another half hour was all she had left on my watch. She was already three-quarters of the way past plastered and one-quarter of the way from full-on shit-faced and puking on her favorite Jimmy Choos. And for me to let her puke on her nine-hundred-dollar shoes would be a friendship fail.

  Brokenhearted or not, McKenna needed an intervention when it came to the opposite sex…and quite possibly with rum too.

  With curiosity being my biggest downfall, I took another second to search for Number Six out on the dance floor. When I found him, his back was still to me, and I sighed, regretting that I couldn’t see his face.

  At well over six feet, the guy was massively built—with a firm backside and nice calves to boot. Whether he was ex-military, a professional athlete, or just lucky to be blessed with muscular perfection, I didn’t know. In any case, I’d have bet my left boob his face was gorgeous with a capital G.

  The rugby team’s weird chanting continued around us, but Kenna’s giggle was capturing my attention. Turning, I found her petting Mr. Hottie’s chest. But for the first time in all the years we’d been running around together, the guy she had her sights set on wasn’t taking the bait.

  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 good-bye. 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 wr
apped 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 nodded, 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.”

  “I…” Blinking fast, I looked to where he was pointing, finding the Duhamel-Tatum hottie from earlier, a protective arm wrapped around Kenna’s waist and walking our way.

  “Damn it.” I cursed, shoving past Number Six. “What happened?”

  “Hey, girl.” McKenna wiggled her fingers, her head flopping to the side and onto the hottie’s shoulder. “Found my future baby’s daddy.” She giggled and tried to cup her hands around her mouth as she whisper-yelled, “He just doesn’t know it yet.” I shook my head, humiliation for her burning my cheeks. If I’d been more vigilant tonight, kept her home and safe in front of the TV with wine in one hand and Ben and Jerry’s on her lap, then we wouldn’t be in this position.

  “Jesus, K. What happened?” I stroked my hand over her sweaty forehead.

  “I found her outside the bathroom taking her dress off.” Duhamel-Tatum Man’s full lips pursed as he shot McKenna a brief look. “She said she was hot.”

  “I am hot, and you want me. Don’t deny it.” Kenna grabbed his chin and pulled his face closer.

  He frowned, studying her for a second before looking at me again. “What do you want to do with her? It’s not safe for her to be here like this.”

  As my hand fell away from Kenna’s head, I rubbed my other hand over my own forehead, trying to push back the impending headache brewing inside. “I—”

  “Gavin will get her home.” Gavin? Number Six squeezed the Gavin guy’s shoulder.

  I stared back and forth between the two men, not knowing where to look first. The difference in their appearance was more than obvious—Six was all dark and mysterious, Gavin quiet, contemplative, and serious—yet they were both delicious in the same way. Big, hulking, powerful types who could very well have been Hollywood’s next bad boys. All this hotness would’ve been so much fun to ogle, if it weren’t for the giggles and moans coming out of my best friend’s mouth.

  “No. I’ll take her home.” I sighed. “Can you get her to my car, maybe? I mean, if you don’t mind…”

  I pulled my lower lip between my teeth, almost kicking myself after the question left my mouth. I didn’t know these two men. And just because they were good-looking didn’t mean they were quality.

  Gavin opened his mouth as if to argue, but Six cut him off, eyes narrowed as he jerked his head toward the door. In the end, the two hulking beasts became Kenna’s and my chaperones.

  Pushing past the crowd of college kids standing outside, Number Six moved with both grace and power. Shoulders back, head high—commandeering the way. With no other choice, I followed him, Gavin on my heels, leading Kenna. Her snorting laughter cut through the night—the only sound I could hear other than the thundering of my heartbeat inside my ears.

  “Which one is yours?” Six asked over his shoulder, pausing for me to catch up.

  “Last in the row. Ivory-colored Volvo.” The eighties kind, I’d failed to mention.

  Six found it regardless, motioning for Gavin without a second thought. “We’ll follow you back to your place. Make sure you get home okay.” He moved to open my door, while Gavin settled Kenna into the backseat.

  The closer he got to me, the more panic brewed inside my tightened chest. Damn, he was tall. “No.” Absolutely not.

  It was bad enough that I’d brought them out here by myself, without a single can of pepper spray on me. No way would I let them follow me all the way home. Still, I didn’t want to come across as a paranoid loon either.

  Six glared down at me. “Unless you’ve got some serious muscle hidden under that coat of yours, I can’t see you lifting her up and getting her home on your own, especially if she passes out.”

  “I don’t even know you guys.”

  I slipped behind the wheel, needing a barrier from this guy. Fast. But when I went to shut the door, he grabbed the edge and crouched at my side. I swallowed, the intensity in his eyes too much.

  “Name’s Collin Montgomery. I’m a former marine, and I work nights as a security guard downtown. Grew up right here in Carinthia, Illinois, did two tours of duty in Iraq, and am back home for the first time in eight months. My parents are John and Patty, my sister’s name is Lia, and I live with my two best friends. First one’s Gavin St. James”—he motioned toward the Duhamel-Tatum hottie on the other side of the car—“and the other’s Max Martinez, who’s at home, probably sleeping.” His dark eyebrows pushed together as he spoke. “I’m not a rapist, or a murderer, or some sort of sick bastard that gets off on picking up a woman at a bar to fill my sexual desires on a whim.”

  I frowned. Hadn’t he just tried to pick me up inside?

  Still. My excuses were waning. And, truth be told, I already knew he was a good guy. Call it my gut intuition or whatnot.

  One of his dark brows rose. “Good enough introduction for you?” His lips twitched. Again.

  I shivered as the cool October air brushed through his wild mane of black hair and into my car. That breeze was the only si
gn I needed. “Okay.” I nodded once, attempting to play down my rising nerves. “But are you fit to drive?”

  He smiled—big, powerful, and the first genuine one I’d seen on his lips. “I’ve only had two beers all night.”

  My face warmed. “Oh.”

  “We good to go now?” His dark eyebrows rose in question.

  “Yeah, we’re good.”

  “Wait here for us then.” He tapped the roof once as he stood.

  “Fine. I’ll wait.” I started my car, the motor sputtering in protest.

  His eyes never left mine as he took a step back, not even when he called for his friend over the car roof.

  “Good girl.” And then he winked at me.

  It was the wink that pushed my foot to the pedal, and the cockiness in his words that forced me out of the parking lot the moment he and his friend turned their backs on me.

  Tires squealing in my wake, I hightailed it home. No way would a pair of dimples sway me to the hot-man dark side.

  Chapter 3

  Collin

  Jesus Christ, my head hurt.

  I jabbed all ten of my knuckles against my temples, trying to ease the tension. Chloe wailed from her room next door, and if I didn’t miss the hell out of her, I would’ve thrown the pillow over my head and let Max deal with her. It was his idea to swap early mornings out between the two of us.

  I glared at the alarm instead, cursing the time. No wonder I felt like ass. It was only five a.m.

  “Janie’s got a gun. Janie’s got a gun.”

  My eyes narrowed at that song and the voice singing it.

  “What did her daddy do? What did he put you throooooough?”

  Damn, Max. The guy sang like a bird, but his musical choices were as jacked up as our living situation.

  “Aerosmith, you dumbass?” I pounded on the wall.

  “They said when Janie was arrested, they found him underneath a train,” he sang louder, probably trying to piss me off.