Something Reckless (Dirty Southern Secrets Book 3)

by J. L. Leslie

  “When Mama sets her mind to something, you can’t talk her out of it.”

  “Are you comfortable now? Do you need anything?”

  I don’t tell her I’m still not comfortable. I don’t want her to worry about it. It’s something I’ll get used to, and it’s only temporary. I have to believe that.

  “I’m good now.”

  Brynn nods and leans forward, brushing her lips across mine. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  She touches her lips to mine again and lingers as if she’s waiting on me to make a move. I hesitate but then close the distance, deepening the kiss. I haven’t kissed her, and I mean really kissed her, since before my injury.

  As if on reflex, my hand goes to the nape of her neck, my tongue explores her mouth. She moves and straddles my lap. I strip her shirt off and toss it to the floor, burying my face between her luscious tits. She moans and arches into me, grinding on top of me. That movement causes my dick to harden, but instead of experiencing pleasure, I growl in pain.

  “Oh, God! Oh my God! Did I hurt you?” Brynn asks, scrambling off my lap as I cup my aching cock.

  “The catheter,” I croak out, doubling over.

  “What can I do?”

  “Nothing,” I reply, sucking in deep breaths of air as I relax back against the pillows. I still hold my junk in my hands, the pain subsiding.

  “We can take it out,” she offers.

  “No.” The mood is shot, and I fear this will be the new norm for us. Her fluffing pillows for her fucking invalid boyfriend who can’t even give her pleasure. “You should go. It’s getting late. I’m ready to go to bed.”

  “Okay.”

  She slips out of the bed and pulls her shirt back on. I watch her turn my light out before she disappears from my bedroom. I can hear her moving around my house and I assume she’s getting ready to go home. It’s only a couple of minutes before she returns. From the moonlight shining through my window, I can see her open one of my dresser drawers and take a t-shirt out before going into my bathroom. Seconds later, the shower is on.

  When she emerges, her hair is damp, and she’s in my shirt. It’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life. She crawls into bed beside me and curls against my side, throwing her leg over my thigh.

  I can’t bring myself to argue with her. Not when her being here, right beside me, is the only position that feels comfortable.

  74

  Brynn

  I’m stirred awake by knocking on Kipton’s door before the alarm on my phone ever goes off. I ease out of his bed and pull on my jeans from the day before and go answer his door. Angie stands on the other side, digging in her purse.

  “Sorry, baby, I couldn’t find my key.”

  “You have a key?” I ask, and she looks up.

  “What are you doing here?” she questions, stepping past me. “Moving in already?”

  “Angie, we’re going to have to get past this. We were getting along better until this. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Let’s just see how he recovers, and if you’re sticking around when all this is done, we’ll talk. Is he up yet? I’m taking him to therapy today.”

  “I didn’t think he had therapy until ten o’clock.”

  “I’m not sending him off to therapy without a good breakfast. From the looks of it, you haven’t cooked him anything yet.”

  I roll my eyes and go back to Kipton’s bedroom as Angie heads to his kitchen. He’s awake and getting into his chair. I fight the urge to go help him, knowing this is something he has to do on his own.

  “Sounds like Mama’s here. I told her to pick me up at nine.”

  “Yeah, well, she wants you to have breakfast first.”

  I change out of his shirt, his eyes on me as I fasten my bra and put on my shirt before slipping my sandals on. I disappear into the bathroom a moment and use his mouthwash before coming back out. I’ll finish up everything else when I get home.

  “Want a ride into the living room?” he says, a smirk on his gorgeous face.

  I giggle and go sit on his lap. He pumps his arms, speeding the wheelchair down the hall as we laugh together, nearly running the damn thing into his couch.

  “Good grief, son!” his mama says, shaking her head and observing our childish behavior.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” I tell him and give him a quick kiss on the lips. “Give ‘em hell at therapy.”

  “You bet your sweet ass I will.”

  I leave him in the very capable hands of Angie, knowing she’ll give him a good boost of protein and carbs before he works them off. I send up a prayer to the good Lord above that he’ll have a progressive therapy session and head home to get ready for work.

  Halfway through my morning, my mama sends me a text asking if I want to meet at Happy’s for lunch. I never turn down Happy’s, so I agree.

  I finish up a short article I’m working on about an upcoming bake sale the church is having and gather my things. Happy’s is busy, but luckily Mama got there a little early and saved us a table.

  “Is it just me, or is everyone staring at me?” I ask, glancing around the room.

  “You’re getting some stares, honey, but what did you expect? You’re dating your ex-husband’s brother,” she replies. “There is a lot of talk and not all of it nice, so you’ve been warned.”

  “Ah, gossip travels fast in Chapelwood. Let them talk.”

  “They will do it anyway. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry we couldn’t make it to Kipton’s welcome party. I promised Lavelle Weaver I’d give her grandson piano lessons, and you know your daddy don’t like crowds.”

  “It’s okay, Mama.”

  A waitress approaches our table, and I don’t miss the look she gives me. I’m pretty sure she’s the same waitress who gave Helene and Tauren trouble. She’s pretty enough but has desperation written all over her, enough to make her unattractive.

  “What can I get you?”

  We place our order, and she saunters off, not in a hurry to put our order in as she moves onto the next table. I ignore her. She won’t be the only one in town annoyed about Kipton and me. Chapelwood doesn’t have a lot of eligible bachelors. I just snatched one off the market.

  “I know we don’t have long for lunch, so I won’t beat around the bush, Brynn. I’m worried about you.”

  I frown. “Why?”

  “It seems like I just got you back. You’re taking on a lot. I don’t want my only child to run off again.”

  “I’m not running off again, Mama.”

  “This is a heavy burden to bear, and I know you care about Kipton, but it’s not your burden.”

  I reach across the table and take her hand. “When I called you that night, I was calling about him. I took your advice, and I’m enough, Mama. Willow and me are enough for him. I don’t care what anyone in this town thinks. I don’t care what anyone in this town has to say. I love him, and I’m not running this time.”

  She pats the top of my hand. “Then, God bless that man.”

  I let out a relieved laugh. I hope God does bless him. Lord knows I need him.

  75

  Kipton

  I’m in a shit mood today. As a matter of fact, I’ve been in a shit mood the past week. My first week home, I plastered a smile on my face because I thought that’s what I had to do. Visitors would show up unannounced, and I would smile and be polite while they brought me casseroles and desserts and tried to dig into my personal life. Everyone has an opinion about Brynn and I, and in the nicest way, has told me she isn’t a keeper. I smiled and politely told them to mind their own damn business.

  When Mama took me to therapy, I smiled and listened to how happy she is that Kaler and Jenna are having a baby. I even listened to her advice about what I should do, if God forbid, her words, not mine, me and Brynn decide to have a family of our own one day, not filling her in on the fact that isn’t a possibility. That would only be one more thing to make her anti-Brynn, and I don’t need
that from her. I don’t need that from anybody.

  I smiled at the end of each therapy session, giving everything I had to give every single damn time. I pushed myself harder and harder with each session, following up with my home exercise program every chance I got and more than what was recommended. I want to be the man I used to be.

  I smiled at Brynn as she stood back and let me attempt to do everything on my own at home, only intervening when I couldn’t do it and was too fucking stubborn to ask for help. I hated those moments with a passion. She shouldn’t be taking care of me; I should be taking care of her.

  My only genuine smiles were at Willow. She crawls onto my lap each afternoon and kisses my cheek. She lets me watch videos with her on her iPad. We race down at the ramp in my chair and pop wheelies. Those are her favorite.

  But after a week of faking it, I can’t bring myself to do it anymore. I’m making progress at therapy, real progress, but it’s not fast enough for me. I come home exhausted and irritable. I want my thirty steps to be a hundred and thirty.

  I’ve tried to see how quickly I can get to the bathroom when I feel the urge to take a piss, but the catheter empties my bladder before I can make it. How can I fuck my girlfriend if I can’t get a hard-on without doubling over in pain?

  I hate my fucking life right now, and everyone around me is living theirs, eating Sunday lunch, as though I’m not a miserable prick. As though I haven’t lost everything important to me.

  I pick up my glass of tea and finish it off. I slam the glass down a bit harder than I should and start rolling my chair back. It gets caught on the leg of the table, and the whole table shifts.

  “What do you need, baby?” Mama asks.

  “Nothing, I can do it.” I attempt to roll my chair back again, and again the fucking thing gets caught on the leg, nearly causing my empty glass to topple over. I reach and steady it before trying a third time.

  “You need more tea?”

  Frustrated, I slam my fist on the table. “I can fucking do it myself!”

  “Oooh!” Willow says, knowing I said I bad word.

  Feeling like shit, I run a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry, Willow.”

  Brynn stands up, without saying a word, and moves her chair out of the way so that I can maneuver my chair out from beneath the table. Then just as quietly, she puts it back and sits down. I swear, she has the patience of a saint. I’ve been biting her damn head off all week, and she hasn’t snapped on me yet. I lean over and tell her thanks before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

  “I’m sorry, Mama,” I say before rolling my chair out of the kitchen, not bothering with a refill.

  Once I’m clear of the kitchen, I grab my rollator from the living room, grateful I’ve been upgraded from a walker to this. It has a seat, so I can stop and rest whenever I get too tired. I have permission to use it for short distances around the house.

  It takes me a few minutes, but I go to the back porch, pushing the screen door open and finding solitude outside. I hit the brakes on the rollator and pivot so I can turn and sit, hating the fact that I’m out of breath from that short walk.

  It isn’t long before I hear my family cleaning up from lunch, and Willow comes bounding out onto the porch. She takes my hands and begins jumping up and down excitedly.

  “Come on, Kip! We goin’ ridin’!”

  76

  Brynn

  Kipton is still sulking, no doubt thinking we’re all going horseback riding without him. There’s no way I’ll leave him sitting in the truck while we have all the fun. Besides, if it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t even have access to the horses. His neighbor owns this farm, and Kipton helps him take care of it in return for the use of the property for his training. I reach and take his hand, surprised he lets me hold it; he’s sulking that bad.

  “It’s a pretty day outside,” I say.

  He grunts. “Guess I’ll enjoy it from my chair.”

  I stifle a laugh and pull up beside Kaler’s truck. Tauren whips in beside me. I get out, glad that Kaler and Jenna rode ahead to get the horses saddled up. I walk around and get Willow out, who can barely contain her excitement.

  “You’re riding with daddy today,” I say, and she takes off running.

  Kaler comes out of the barn leading two horses, and Jenna follows behind with two more. He nods his head toward the barn letting me know there’s one more waiting for Kipton and me.

  “He’s pretty pissed right now,” I say as I walk past him.

  “We’ll get him on there. Charlemagne’s a gentle mare. She’ll be good to ya’ll.”

  I find the mare already saddled, waiting in the stall. I approach her and pet her nose, whispering to her.

  “He needs a soft touch today, okay? No running or anything like that. Just easy going.”

  She whinnies back at me as though she understands, and part of me believes she does. I open the stall door and lead her out to where Kaler and Tauren have Kipton waiting. I can tell he’s fussing about us bringing him out when he can’t even ride. He’s even casting me a dirty look when I climb onto Charlemagne right in front of him.

  “You’re going to have to hold onto Brynn in order for this to work,” Kaler says.

  “You trust her, don’t you?” Tauren teases. “If you’re in the doghouse, she may throw your cripple ass right off!”

  “Tauren!”

  “What? Everyone knows he’s been a fucking dick lately. He probably deserves it.”

  Kipton glares at him, seemingly clueless as to what we’re doing. “I’m taking you riding. You didn’t really think we were going to leave you behind, did you?”

  “I…I…I can’t,” he stutters.

  “Can’t never could,” Kaler quips and gives Tauren a nod.

  The two of them lift Kipton out of the wheelchair before he can protest. They struggle a little getting him onto the horse, but they manage, and his arms wrap tightly around my waist. They affix his feet into the stirrups while mine hang loosely.

  “We’re going to do this nice and easy, cowboy,” I promise him and click my tongue at the horse.

  She starts walking, slow and steady, like Kaler said she would. Kipton’s grip around my waist loosens a bit, him no doubt settling into the saddle and realizing he has the strength to hold himself up here. I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t have faith he could stay on the horse.

  We stay with the group, them not minding the slow pace we’re keeping. This is what a family does. We stick together, no matter what.

  I know in the past I’ve run from my problems. At the time, they were too big for me to handle. I didn’t understand the emotions I was experiencing. Didn’t know how to process them and was too afraid to speak up.

  I’ve learned from my past mistakes. I missed out on some very important years in my daughter’s life and I can’t get that time back. I’m here now, and I’m with her. I know God is giving me a second chance with her and a second chance at love.

  I won’t miss this time with Kipton now. Sure, it may not be what we planned. Life doesn’t always turn out the way we expect it to. Hell, it rarely does. But I’ve learned something over the past few weeks. I’m a fighter. Kipton is a fighter. Together, we can win this battle.

  I rest my head back on his chest. “Told you we make a good team.”

  77

  Kipton

  “Let’s go! You’re almost there!” Mario encourages. “Push, Kipton! My grandpa moves faster than you!”

  I growl in anger and pick up my pace, determined to beat last week’s record since I’m traveling to Duluth tomorrow to see Dr. Lowenstein and check in with Laura. I want to show her I’ve been working my ass off since being discharged. Mario did up the stakes this week, though, and added some small cones for me to step over along with ten extra steps. He’s as tough as Giada, maybe tougher, but I suppose that’s why she recommended him. When I finish, my rollator is waiting at the end of the bars.

  “Why do you still have that wheelchair?” he questions.


  “It’s not a wheelchair.”

  “Serves the same purpose. We’ve been working together for weeks now. You’re moody as all hell, but you’re putting in the work. Get rid of that safety net.”

  “What if I need it?”

  “What if I need it?” he mocks. “Why would you need it? You have two legs that work.”

  I roll my eyes. “They don’t work like they used to.”

  “Be grateful they work at all. Some people don’t have that luxury,” he says. “Some people don’t have legs, period.”

  “You’re right.”

  “I know I am. We’re finished for today. Don’t even think about rolling that thing in here again. Ask the doc for a cane.” I chuckle. “Oh, and start pissing on your own. If you don’t need a safety net to help you walk, you don’t need a catheter.”

  Praise God. I rest another minute and then get up and walk out. I don’t walk fast, and I don’t have swagger by any means, but I’m walking. I don’t think I ever considered that an accomplishment until now. It’s amazing the little things we take for granted.

  Mama is waiting for me in the lobby. When we reach her van, she lets me pull myself inside the front passenger seat, even though I know she can’t stand letting me do it by myself. She’s a natural caregiver, and it bothers her to see one of her kids struggling.

  I let her close the door, and after she puts my rollator in the back, she comes around and gets in so we can head home. After being in such a pissy mood the past week, I don’t want to take my good mood for granted.

  “Can we stop at Rooms To Go?” I ask.

  “Sure. Do you need me to run in and get you some things?”

  “I’ll go in with you. I want to get some things for Willow,” I explain. “I think it’s time I turn that extra room into a bedroom for her.”