by Eden Summers
“Shit. Sorry.” Mason’s brows drew tight. “But… Are you serious?”
“Yes.” Leah rolled her eyes at the lead singer. “We decided on a name weeks ago.”
The rest of their family entered the room. Alana, Melody, and Gabi all taking turns to give Leah a hug of congratulations before showering the baby in compliments while Mitch, Blake, and Sean did the same to Ryan…without the girlie affection.
“Why is Mason crying?” Sean asked.
“I’m not crying.” Mason rubbed the end of his nose with the back of his hand. “I’ve got allergies, asshole.”
Ryan chuckled and returned to Leah’s side. She had her gaze glued to their son. The two of them more than he could’ve ever hoped for. “You’re amazing.”
“We’re amazing.” Her lashes lifted, the glassy depths of her eyes hitting him with a promise of forever. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I think Sophie and Tyler will be best friends,” Alana announced. “They’ll be so cute together.”
“She’s not coming anywhere near the blue-eyed cherub,” Blake grated. “I have a no-boys policy until she moves away from home.”
“Good luck with that.” Sean pulled out his cell and took some happy snaps. “I’m willing to place a bet they become more than friends before her sweet sixteenth.”
“That’s not funny.” Blake squeezed by the women to get to Leah’s side. “He’s adorable… But make sure you keep his grubby mitts away from my daughter.”
She leaned in to the kiss he placed on her cheek. “I’ll try my best.”
“Blake,” Gabi warned. “He’s not even five minutes old.”
“I don’t care. I’m laying down the law. My little girl is going to be locked up in her tower until she’s fifty-five.”
Leah snorted and then winced, the sign of agony quickly masked by a grin.
“Are you in pain?” Ryan asked.
“It’s not too bad.”
“That’s our cue to leave.” Melody started shooing everyone from the room. “The newest Reckless family deserves their privacy.”
Leah repositioned herself, sitting taller. “You don’t have to go.”
“Yeah, we do.” Mason shot her a wink. “Little Mason junior needs his rest.”
One by one they filed out of the room, blowing kisses, whispering farewells, until it was down to the three of them. His family, alone for the first time.
“It’s no longer just the two of us,” she whispered.
“I know.” He sat his hip against the bed and leaned into her. “It’s the end of one chapter and the start of something new.”
“I’m scared and excited at the same time. Who would’ve thought, all those years ago when we first met, that one day we’d be here?”
“I did. I thought about it. Dreamed about it. And it feels surreal to finally have what I always wanted.”
She released a breathy chuckle. “You’re such a sweet talker.”
“True.” He grinned. “And I’m going to teach this guy everything I know.”
“If that’s the case, Sophie won’t stand a chance, and you might want to start preparing for Blake’s wrath.”
“That’s the whole point, gorgeous.” He ran his fingers over the short wisps of hair on his son’s head. “We get to spend the rest of our lives making Blake’s a living hell.”
THE END
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Acknowledgments
To the Reckless readers, please note: Even though this is the last novel in the series, I have no plans to say an official goodbye to Mason, Mitch, Blake, Ryan, and Sean. There may be a novella here and there. Hey, there might even be a spin off series with the next generation… Maybe that’s why I added babies for the first time… But you never know. You’ll have to hang around and see. The best way to do that is via my newsletter.
Reckless Beat has been part of my life for over four years. This family exists, not only in my mind, but in my heart. Corny? Maybe. But I have changed because of these fictional characters. My life has been enriched by five imaginary men. Why? Because through the five novels and two novellas, many, many people have entered my life.
My heartfelt thanks goes out to the following:
~ To my Facebook reader group and newsletter subscribers.
~ To the many crib partners, proofreaders, beta readers, and reviewers, with special mention to Amber Bardan, Tamara Roach, Marci Berens and Shayna Snyder.
~ To my professional team - my editors, formatters, and Letitia Hasser. You always solve my problems and make time to squeeze me between your scheduled projects. Gosh, I love you guys.
~ To Kristen and Megan who have been with me from the start of my writing career (even before Reckless). Out of all the people who have come and gone, you’ve always been there. Always.
~ To my assistant, Tracy. Reckless brought you into my life. Now I’m never letting you go.
~ Finally, to my husband, because none of this would exist without him. And no, I’m not talking about the sex scenes, so please stop asking.
Please consider leaving a review on your ebook retailer website or Goodreads
Also by Eden Summers
Reckless Beat Series
Blind Attraction (Reckless Beat #1)
Passionate Addiction (Reckless Beat #2)
Reckless Weekend (Reckless Beat #2.5)
Undesired Lust (Reckless Beat #3)
Sultry Groove (Reckless Beat #4)
Reckless Rendezvous (Reckless Beat #4.5)
Undeniable Temptation (Reckless Beat #5)
Vault of Sin Series
A Shot of Sin (Vault of Sin #1)
Union of Sin (Vault of Sin #2)
Inarticulate
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About the Author
Eden Summers is a bestselling author of contemporary romance with a side of sizzle and sarcasm.
She lives in Australia with a young family who are well aware she's circling the drain of insanity.
Eden can't resist alpha dominance, dark features and sarcasm in her fictional heroes and loves a strong heroine who knows when to bite her tongue but also serves retribution with a feminine smile on her face.
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Inarticulate Excerpt
Chapter One
“My sweet Ms. Hamilton, we’ve got a problem.” The deeply growled tone came from the office across the hall.
Savannah slumped over, resting her head on the elegantly polished wood of her desk and fought the need to bang her forehead. “What is it, Spencer? I’m kinda busy.”
As far as understatements went, hers was gargantuan. The To-Do List currently stapled to the back of her mind was growing with every disgruntled staff email that slid gracefully into her mailbox. She had property managers to call, PR issues to resolve, and profit reports to analyze that, at first glimpse, showed a lot of red, instead of soothing black.
“It’s important. Get your butt in here. Now.”
A hissed chastisement came from Spencer’s office and she cringed, knowing his father was also in there. Mr. Rydel, the Mr. Mathew Rydel from the Rydel hotel empire, was her boss. So was his charming son, Spencer. The former was a demanding man. He cracked the whip like an ancient Roman on a power trip, without apology or remorse. It was a challenge to work under his leadership, and she thrived in the role.
Spencer, however, had a different work ethic, one that revolved around flirtation and perfectly word
ed compliments. He’d seduced her into an eight-month relationship that ended six weeks ago, when he forgot to remain monogamous.
But she hadn’t been hurt. Crazy, huh? Eight months of companionship had come to an end and all she could think about was stocking up on AA batteries. Because that’s all their time together had been. One scripted sex scene after another. It was merely colleagues with benefits.
Convenient copulation.
Only Spencer disagreed. Apparently, their future held the unmistakable sound of wedding bells and a honeymoon somewhere warm and exotic. Her reluctance to agree was merely stubborn pride because he’d slummed it with the manager of the Rydel Chicago property in a moment of weakness.
She actually felt sorry for his unrealistic perception. She could never love a man like Spencer. He was too pretty. Too perfect. He’d never worked a day in his life, he merely skated along the pristine path his father laid for him. He had no drive, no commitment.
In the last six weeks, his self-righteous attitude and love for himself had scrubbed away any aesthetic appeal, leaving her to see the egotistical man he hid beneath.
He was, however, a perfect asset in the bedroom. A woman couldn’t live on the company of battery operated products alone, and for a brief eight months he’d given her the opportunity to unsubscribe to her favorite sex toy website.
“My life is but to serve,” she muttered and pushed to her feet, shimmying her ass to lower the thigh-high skirt now hiked up her stocking-covered legs. As she shuffled around her desk, she swiped at her mug and stole the last dregs of coffee, placing it back down with a relieved gasp that spoke too much of her reliance on the heavenly liquid.
With a pasted on smile, she held her head high and strode across the hall. When she entered Spencer’s office, her footsteps faltered at the matching scowls etched across the faces of the father and son duo. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s problems in Seattle.” Mr. Rydel’s hazel eyes were a darkened shade of we’re-in-huge-fucking-trouble.
“Problems?” She frowned. “The paperwork for the sale has already been finalized. There’s less than three months until settlement. There shouldn’t be any problems.” Well, nothing worthy of the high level of concern focused her way.
Over time, the Seattle property had slowly become their profit decimator. The cause of their sinking bottom line. This year the decision had been made to cut and run, sacrificing their worst performer to benefit the rest of the portfolio. It was an emotional and stressful conclusion none of them liked to acknowledge. And as soon as the sale was complete and staff began working for their new employer, Savannah planned on kicking off her heels and dancing around her living room while simultaneously guzzling a bottle of merlot.
“Less than three months that will bring us to our knees if our employees continue to quit,” Spencer muttered. “They’re leaving in droves.”
“Why?” It didn’t make sense. “Our terms with Grandiosity were specific. They promised to take on incumbent staff. You told me that was non-negotiable.”
Spencer leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his immaculately tailored suit. “That’s what we agreed on with Patrick, but it looks like his team is playing dirty to get a better deal. If any more staff leave, we won’t be able to reach the minimum hotel occupancy we committed to in negotiations. Which means the fucking settlement figure will fall.”
“Son,” Mr. Rydel grated.
“What? You know it’s true. They also made it clear our staff are sub-par. Getting them out of the way means they can slide their own into place instead of wading through three-month probation periods and possible payouts for those who need to be fired.”
“Just show her the email.”
Spencer’s lips pressed tight as he slid a sheet of paper toward her. “We’ve been receiving information of unrest since we announced the upcoming sale, but this came from the shift manager this morning.”
Savannah picked up the email and skimmed over the text.
Dear Mr. Rydel. Yadda yadda yadda. Staff are seeking alternate employment in fear of the inevitable loss of work in the future. Yadda yadda yadda. They’re intimidated by the presence of future management. Yadda yadda yadda. Please advise how you would like me to proceed.
She slammed the paper back down on the desk. “This is a breach of contract. Their management can’t terrorize staff. They shouldn’t even be in the building.”
“No, they shouldn’t,” Mr. Rydel agreed. “But from the amount of concerned phone calls we’re receiving, someone certainly is.”
“Who?” She slid into one of Spencer’s hard leather seats beside his father. “Do we have a name?”
Spencer squinted at his computer screen. “It’s the assistant to the CEO. A Miss Penelope Augustine.”
Savannah’s stomach dropped. What was the chance of two women with the same extravagant name living in Seattle, Washington? “Fuck.”
Mr. Rydel stiffened, his gaze narrowing on her in concern. “Savannah…”
“Sorry.” Her composure was usually solid in the office, her profanity contained to the inner spheres of her mind. But this… This wasn’t good.
“Are you familiar with her?” Spencer’s expression was more impressed than distraught.
“You could say that.” They’d grown up sharing summers together. And a thinly veiled annoyance for one another.
Hope twinkled in Mr. Rydel’s eyes. A misplaced hope. One she wished he would wipe off his face, so she didn’t have to do it herself. “That’s perfect.”
No. No, it wasn’t. “We’re not close. We haven’t spoken since I was seventeen.” The same year Savannah kissed the guy Penny had been crushing on, sending her younger cousin into a rage that probably should’ve been calmed with pharmaceutical intervention.
“But familiarity will work in our favor.” He pushed from his chair, as if a conclusion to the problem had already been found.
She tracked his movements to the door and refused to bite her lip. “So you want me to place a call and gently ask her to back off?” Awkward wouldn’t come close to the way the conversation would pan out.
“No. I want you to go to Seattle and talk to her.” Mr. Rydel peered down at her, the faith in his expression weighing heavy on her shoulders. “I also want you to track down the staff who have resigned and convince them to return. And make sure all current employees are comfortable and familiar with how the changeover will occur. There’s a lot of miscommunication over there, and you’re the perfect person to clear it up.”
“Perfect person?”
“Yes. You’re bubbly and approachable.”
She raised a disbelieving brow and stared at Spencer, hoping he was noticing his father’s rapid descent into psychosis. “I’m none of those things. The sarcastic wit and humorous charm is a front. I honestly despise people. I like to consider myself as more of a dictator that staff are confident in but scared to approach.”
Mr. Rydel laughed.
Laughed.
She wasn’t joking, goddamn it.
“Mr. Rydel—”
“You’ll get the job done, Savannah. I have faith in you.”
She blinked once, twice. “But…” What? What possible excuse could she use to get out of saving the company a large chunk of settlement money? “I’m entirely smothered with work. I can’t drop everything and leave for a few days.”
“We’ll figure something out.” He stood in the doorframe, an undeniable force. “And it won’t be for a few days. I want you to remain in Seattle until this is over.”
Eleven weeks. “But, sir—”
“It’s a big ask, I know.”
She sank into her chair and met Spencer’s focus, wordlessly pleading for him to say something to his father. Anything.
He shrugged. “We’ll give you a week to pack your things.”
“That’s much better.” She rolled her eyes. One less week wouldn’t make much difference. “What about the backlog of work I currently have? I’ll never cat
ch up.”
“The staff here are capable of taking some of your duties for the duration. The rest you can do while you’re there,” Mr. Rydel’s voice was filled with confidence. Annoying, authoritative confidence. “I’m relying on you to fix this, Savannah.”
She turned to him, hoping her puppy dog eyes would work better on the aging Rydel man, but he was already gone. Deal done. No begging or pleading possible. She slumped into the chair and tried to ignore the growing list of tasks that made her brain throb.
“I’ll handle reporting while you’re gone,” Spencer offered.
She scoffed. He’d completely mess them up. The benefit of being the boss’s son was that you could fuck up absolutely anything and get someone else to deal with the fallout. “Thanks.”
“Think of it as an opportunity.” He eyed her, his lips twitching. “You can let your uptight hair down and start dating new people without me hovering over your shoulder. That’s what you claim to want, right?”
“It’s not a claim, Spencer.” She shoved to her feet, glaring. And she wasn’t uptight. She was a hard worker. The most efficient and forward thinker they’d ever had. Being with him had tainted the facts. New employees considered her merely a skirt that clung to Spencer’s coattails. They didn’t realize it was the other way around. “And I could start dating right here, right now, I just don’t have time.”
“It’s not time that you lack, sweetheart. It’s enthusiasm.” He grinned at her. “You know we’re meant for each other. You’ll quit being stubborn and forgive me soon enough, and when you do, I’ll be here waiting.”
“Spencer…” She sighed.
He needed to understand they would never ever get back together. Unless the powers of vodka and wine teamed up to create an undefeatable army against her resolve, she would forever be committed to keeping her thighs closed in his presence. The only problem was that she didn’t know how he would react when the information finally sank past his impenetrable ego.