Something Reckless (Dirty Southern Secrets Book 3)

by J. L. Leslie

  I step back and push my boxers down, stepping out of them. She moves around me and goes to the bathtub, turning on the water.

  “You need to soak in the tub, not a shower.”

  She tests the water with her hand and puts the plug in, then begins to strip. My bathtub isn’t huge, but it’s big enough for the both of us to squeeze in. I’m not turning down the opportunity to relax in a bath with her.

  She climbs in first, and rather than her sit in front of me like I expected, she motions for me to sit in front of her. I oblige and rest my back against the soft pillows of her tits. She takes a washcloth and dips it into the hot water before scrubbing it over my chest. I take her legs and wrap them around my waist, rubbing her feet.

  “Can I ask you to promise me something?” she asks.

  “Okay.”

  “If you decide you aren’t ready, forget the sponsor, forget the fans, and wait until you are. Please don’t go back to it until you’re ready.”

  I nod. “I promise.”

  I like to believe I’m being honest with her. That I would recognize hesitation. But you can’t hesitate in this sport. You have to be all in.

  86

  Brynn

  It’s half-past eight when I wake up to an empty bed. I’m surprised Willow hasn’t gotten up already. She rarely sleeps in. I get out of the bed and walk to her room, finding it empty. I frown until I hear her counting loudly. I follow the sound of her voice to Kipton’s back porch. He’s doing push-ups, and she’s laying on his back, counting as loudly as she can.

  “How long have the two of you been up?” I ask, walking out onto the porch.

  “Couple hours,” he answers breathlessly. “Wanted to let you sleep.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “We essercizing,” Willow informs me cheerfully. “Push-ups!”

  “I see that. You’re doing a good job.”

  Kipton glances over and grins at me, and my insides turn all gooey. He’s wearing a pair of loose-fitting jersey shorts and a sleeveless tee. His biceps flex with each up and down movement, a light sheen of sweat on his skin.

  “How much did you get packed yesterday?” he asks, lowering himself down so Willow can get off before sitting up and reaching for the bottle of water on the porch swing.

  “Quite a bit. I don’t really have a lot of stuff.”

  I don’t mention that I didn’t take anything aside from clothes and toiletries when I left Kaler. I haven’t accumulated much over the years. The house I was renting came fully furnished.

  “Everyone is supposed to meet us over there at ten. We can head over there and finish up whenever you get ready. Try to get it all done today so we don’t have to fool with it after church tomorrow.”

  “I’ll go get dressed then. Do I need to fix breakfast first?”

  He smiles. “Willow and I cooked breakfast this morning. I put your plate in the microwave.”

  I reach my hand out to help him, and I’m only a little surprised he takes it. He stands to his feet, no cane needed, and I know I have to face the facts. He’s better and improving more and more every day. He isn’t turning his back on the rodeo, no matter how terrifying that is to me, and I can’t turn my back on him. I guess the rodeo will be part of our lives.

  “A man who lets me sleep in and cooks breakfast,” I muse. “I think I’ll keep you around.”

  He reaches his arms around me, cupping my ass and giving it a rough squeeze. Luckily, Willow is completely occupied playing with Kipton’s phone.

  “A woman who looks this damn good in my t-shirt,” he says with a flirty smirk, releasing me. “I think I’ll keep you around.”

  He smacks my ass when I turn to go inside, making me yelp. I’m smiling as I go get my breakfast plate from the microwave. While I’m eating, Kipton comes inside with Willow in tow.

  “Go get your bag so we can get you dressed,” he tells her, and without hesitation, she runs to get her bag from her room.

  “I’m going to have to learn how to do that. She still likes to push my buttons.”

  He shrugs. “I’m sure she’ll push mine, too. She’s a kid.”

  “Got it!” Willow exclaims, running back into the kitchen with her bag. She hands it to Kipton, and I get up from the table.

  “Bring it here, and we’ll get dressed.”

  “It’s all right,” Kipton says. “I can get her dressed while you go get ready.”

  “You sure?” I ask, washing my plate and cup.

  “Yeah,” he says and then flashes me a grin. “We both know you can’t get her to keep her shirt on.”

  I laugh at that, rolling my eyes as the two of them disappear into the living room. I put my dishes away and start toward the bedroom, the sight of them catching my attention. Willow’s hands are propped on Kipton’s shoulders as she steps into shorts, her loving gaze fixated on him. He puts her shirt on and then pulls her onto his lap so he can put her shoes on.

  “Love you, poot,” she says quietly, grinning against his cheek.

  “I love you, too, sweet girl.”

  I know right then that no matter what anyone thinks or says about us, we’re a family. Nothing can change that.

  87

  Kipton

  The next three weeks go by in a blur for me. If I’m not at therapy, I’m training with my daddy and brothers or attending yoga with Brynn. I barely have a free moment. All of my time during the day and late afternoons are dedicated to getting back in shape for the rodeo. My evenings and nights are spent with Brynn, the two of us sharing meals and making memories. I don’t let my aches and pains keep me from burying myself deep inside her every chance I get.

  When Willow is there, we play together in my backyard, watch movies, or go do her favorite outdoor activities ‒ fishing and riding horses. Our worries of our relationship affecting her negatively were for naught. She’s a happy little girl with doting parents in both households. Exactly the way it should be.

  Mario has really become creative at therapy, using an oversized training ball to simulate balance. Anything he can do to mimic bull riding and try to prepare me for my return.

  I feel strong, as strong as I was before the injury, if not stronger. The cane has started gathering dust. I stopped using it a week ago, propping it beside the bed and never picking it back up.

  I’m physically ready. I didn’t think I would be able to say that eleven weeks ago. Didn’t think I would walk again at that time, much less ride a bull.

  It’s the mental part I’m slightly concerned about. I stopped watching the video after the night Brynn showed it to me, but occasionally I see glimpses of it on the news when they’re covering my hopefully soon-to-be return to the sport. It’s hard to watch, even harder to believe I fully recovered. Some men don’t have that luxury.

  Laura has done her job representing my sponsor and assuring everyone I will be back. She’s been dropping not-so-subtle hints that I’m competing in Vegas on Team Wrangler for the Monster Energy Team Challenge. That’s in two weeks.

  When I finish up my session with Mario, I head home and give Laura a call to check in. I did what I was told and started checking my emails. Not only did she have Mario record our sessions for the past week, but she asked me to call her today for my four-week follow up. It’s a little ahead of schedule, but I don’t mind checking in early.

  “I received the videos from Mario, and our team has reviewed them. I told you I had confidence in you, Kipton,” she says. “Are you ready to return to the sport?”

  “I’ve been looking at the calendar and was thinking my return might be best at the event in Texas in July. That’ll give me a few more weeks to put in some heavy training, get my rodeo legs back under me.”

  She’s quiet for a moment but then says, “We’ve entered you in the Vegas event. Having you there to represent the team already has the media buzzing with excitement.”

  “Shit, ya’ll weren’t kidding when you said twelve weeks.”

  “No, sir, we weren’t. We
’re anxious to get you back out there,” she says. “Kipton?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You never answered my question.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry?” I ask, unsure what question she’s referring to.

  “Are you ready to return to the sport?”

  The past eleven weeks at home haven’t been easy. I’ve been tested in more ways than I can count. My patience, my strength, my will, and my faith. I thought God was sending me on a different path than what I had planned for my life. Thought he was binding me to a wheelchair.

  He didn’t, and I’m grateful for that. But I also know had that been the case, I would’ve survived. I would’ve eventually thrived. The support from my family never wavered. The support from Brynn never faltered.

  She has been my rock. She has been my foundation. I’m going to build my life with her and Willow. A family.

  So, I take the first step in making that happen when I reply to Laura.

  “I need to speak to Brynn before I make any decisions.”

  Whatever I choose, whether it’s going back on the road or staying in Chapelwood and returning to my job, she’s part of it. She’s part of me, and I can’t do either without her. I need her by my side.

  88

  Brynn

  Jenna and Helene are both so damn adorable with their baby bumps and cravings. Shannon and I cashed in on those cravings earlier today and shared loaded nachos with them at Happy’s for lunch.

  We had girl talk, which is always fun and much needed. Even when the conversation turned serious, I didn’t mind. As interesting as it might be if all three of us were pregnant at the same time, I confessed to them why that isn’t possible.

  We shared some tears and hugs, and my three friends let me know how much they support my decision and that I can babysit anytime. Shannon doesn’t have any children, but I get the feeling John is going to be a late bloomer in that department.

  When they asked what happens next week, when Kipton is at his twelve-week deadline, I told them I honestly didn’t know. I want to support Kipton, be behind him one hundred percent, but I’m afraid. Anyone in their right mind would be.

  Rodeo life has so many uncertainties. It’s a life on the road, a life from one event to the next, and a life where I don’t know if the man I love will walk out of that arena.

  But we’re in this together. I’ll support his decision, even if it scares the shit out of me. I will live that dream with him. I will travel with him whenever I can, and we will take Willow with us whenever we can. Nothing is going to come between us, not even a two-thousand-pound bull.

  Because I know that’s his dream. I know he isn’t walking away from the rodeo, and I know I can’t ask him to. I will not ask him to.

  Knowing he was talking with Laura today, I opted to take Willow to the park this afternoon, have a little girl time of our own. I didn’t want my presence to affect his decision. It has to be his alone. I refuse to have him blame me later if I somehow make him feel he shouldn’t return to bull riding. I only want him to be happy.

  “Honey, I’m home,” I say cheesily, pushing our door open.

  Candlelight illuminates the room. All the candles I lit before and blew out, he has them lit. Kipton stands there, sexy as sin in his tight jeans and a button-up shirt. His dark, brown hair is still damp from the shower.

  “You’re breathtaking,” he states. “So damn beautiful, it’s hard to believe you’re finally mine.”

  I smile and walk over to him. “The timing wasn’t right before, but it is now.”

  He places his hands at my hips but doesn’t pull me to him, just rests them there. “I spoke to Laura today. She wants me to compete in Vegas at the team event.”

  I knew this was coming. I have been preparing myself for this moment for almost three months because I knew deep down that he wouldn’t stop pushing and fighting until he accomplished what he set his mind to.

  “Okay. As long as you’re ready,” I reply with a nod.

  “I told her I had to talk with you first. We make decisions together now.”

  I shake my head. “No, no, Kipton, this has to be your decision. I don’t have any say in this.”

  He pulls me to him then. “Brynn, you’re going to be my wife one day. You have a say.”

  I reach up and cup his face. “I will never keep you from something that makes you happy. If you want to take that ride again, I’m with you.”

  I see a flash of uncertainty cross his face, but then he grabs my ass and lifts me into his arms. I wrap my legs around him and kiss him as he carries me to our bedroom. He strips me slowly, kissing my exposed flesh each time he removes an article of clothing.

  All talk of the rodeo is finished. Whatever his decision is, it doesn’t matter right now. This is too important. We are too important.

  “I love you,” he whispers, kissing my inner thigh.

  He tastes me, burying his face between my legs until I’m writhing and clutching at the bedsheets. His hair is ruffled from my fingers, the evidence of my release on his face as he rises and undresses.

  “I love you, too,” I say as he settles over me.

  When our bodies join, I know his decision doesn’t matter. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him. He can be an accountant or a cowboy. I could care less. We will take it nice and easy and build something that can’t be destroyed.

  Our reckless love will last forever.

  Epilogue

  Kipton

  The Las Vegas event is by far the largest arena I’ve ever competed in. There is no better place to make my return. The lights and crowd alone are enough to give me an adrenaline rush.

  Then, I see her in the stands. There goes my blood pumping. My heart is pounding. I feel alive. I am alive. She is my thrill. She is my rush.

  Brynn stands with my family and her parents. They all made the trip, none of them willing to miss it. Willow waves at me, and I wave back, blowing her a kiss.

  I am in my element again. After three months away from the sport, I’m back and it’s as though I didn’t miss a single event. That my injury never even occurred, even though I have the scars to prove it did.

  “Glad to see you back, Holt,” Stuart says, patting me on the back. “It’s about time I have some competition.”

  I roll my eyes and laugh. “Good luck.”

  “You, too. You’re up.”

  Sweat beads on my forehead as I get on the bull. I’ve already forgotten the animal’s name. Already blocked out the lights, the crowd. My focus is on making the eight.

  When I punch my hand, locking my rope down as tight as I can get it, insecurity attempts to creep in, but I shut that shit down. This is the sport I love. The danger has always been the appeal.

  I nod, and the gate flings open, sending me out on the enraged animal who doesn’t want me on his back. I keep my grip firm, refusing to lose this battle. Refusing to give up. He will not get the best of me.

  The buzzer sounds, and I let go, my hand coming free as I’m thrown to the ground. I’m quick to my feet, and I rush to the gate, flashing the crowd a smile. The applause is so loud it causes static in my ears as I go over the gate and begin climbing the bleachers.

  “You did it!” Brynn exclaims, fresh tears in her eyes.

  I lift her in my arms, my cowboy hat getting knocked off in the process. She holds me tightly, the sound of the crowd drowning out her sobs.

  “I’m done,” I say in her ear. “That was my last ride.”

  She jerks back to look at me. “What are you talking about? What about Wrangler? What about the other events?”

  “I didn’t register to compete in any other events. I told Laura this was it. One last ride. I’m leaving the sport on my terms.”

  She shakes her head. “But you love this sport! You love bull riding!”

  “My entire life I have felt that I was chasing after something. I needed some sort of adrenaline rush to feel alive. That there was always something missing. The only time I h
aven’t felt that way is when I’m with you, Brynn.” I lean down and pick up Willow, who is now wearing my cowboy hat. “There’s nothing missing anymore.”

  I thumb away a tear from her cheek and lean in to kiss her. When I do, Willow leans in too and kisses my cheek. I chuckle and kiss the tip of her nose.

  I’m walking away from one journey, but I’m starting another one, and I can’t wait.

  Brynn

  Four months later…

  Kipton and I were married on his neighbor’s farm right outside the barn. We left on Charlemagne, knowing she would take it nice and easy with us. Exactly the way we need it.

  I didn’t write Kipton’s recovery story, but I did do a story covering his last ride. Ronald was pleased with that and even told me my latest piece is his favorite.

  We opened The First Ride ranch a couple of months ago. After Kipton had his last ride, we returned to Chapelwood and thought life would go back to normal. Life always has other plans, though.

  Rather than return to work full-time at Hendricks Accounting Firm, Kipton only returned part-time and set his sights on turning his neighbor’s farm into a training center for up and coming rodeo competitors.

  The farm deserved more than what he was able to do in his spare time, and his neighbor was all for it, hoping to see it returned to its original glory. A lot of the kids in town have taken an interest, despite the worry from their parents, and we have participants from nearby cities who travel to us for the training. I suppose Chapelwood might be on the map one day after all. In a sense, we have that big family Kipton mentioned.

  “Hold on tight!” Kipton instructs Willow as she sits on top of the bucking barrel.

  Him, Kaler, and Tauren each gently tug on the ropes, making the barrel move but not enough to throw her off. She whips her arm around in the air like a cowboy.