Reckless (The Mason Family Series Book 3)

by Adriana Locke

  He shakes his head and pulls out of me. Then he offers me a hand and helps me off the counter.

  I expect him to turn away and head to the bathroom. Instead, he surprises me when he pulls me in for another kiss.

  “You were worth the wait,” he whispers in my ear.

  “Longest few days of my life.”

  He grins. It’s a different one than he’s given me before. This one melts my heart.

  “I’ve waited for you my entire life,” he says sheepishly.

  Then, as if he remembers who he is, he tugs at my hand.

  “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go fuck in the bathroom now.”

  My laughter fills the house as we traipse down the hallway.

  Butt naked.

  Like we have all the time in the world.

  Twenty

  Boone

  “You never cease to amaze me.”

  Wade pilots his car onto the freeway. His words float around his Mercedes GLS—an SUV that looks like he bought it this morning. There’s not a takeout wrapper on the floor or a cookie crumb to be seen.

  “I didn’t expect you to want to go to Greyshell,” Wade says, continuing his thought.

  “Well, you do cease to amaze me. Are you sure you’re not a serial killer?” I make a point of dragging my finger across the dash. “Not a speck of dirt. It’s suspicious.”

  He glares at me.

  “Also,” I say, settling back in my seat, “is there a reason you drive like a grandpa? For fuck’s sake, Wade. Hurry up.”

  “We will get there in time. Relax.”

  I know his vehicle is precious to him. I also know it’s a fucking machine.

  But it’s Wade, and it’s me, and I have to screw with him a little bit.

  “Bet my Audi would outrun you,” I say, needling him.

  “Like hell it would. This is a GLS 550 with a V-8 in it. It’s the pinnacle of SUVs. It will go zero to sixty in five-point-two seconds.”

  “So? I have an Audi A8.”

  Wade grins. “And your Audi A8 will go zero to sixty in five-point-six seconds. Which, since you can’t math, is point-four seconds slower than mine.” He shrugs. “I do all of that with three rows.”

  Fucker.

  “How do you know more about my car than I do?” I ask.

  “Although we both subscribe to Car and Driver magazine, I read the articles while you look at the pictures. We are not the same.”

  I hate when he’s right.

  We ride quietly except for some classical music that Wade has on. I wonder what it’s like in his head. Does he play piano music while he’s going to bed, preparing him for dreams of facts and figures?

  It’s odd that we’re related.

  “I’ve noticed you’ve really started stepping up,” Wade says.

  I gasp. “That is the first compliment you’ve ever given to me unprompted.”

  “Will you shut up and have a conversation with me instead of trying to make a joke? Dammit, Boone.”

  “Your man guy persona was cracked when you made friends with Rosie. Sucker.”

  He makes a face. “Sucker? Yeah. Okay. Looked in the mirror lately, my friend?”

  “We’re friends? That’s so nice, Wade.”

  He shakes his head, unamused.

  “I’m sorry. Thank you for noticing that I’ve been stepping up. I’m just trying to level up my game.” I flip down the visor and check my reflection. “It turns out that I don’t hate work. Isn’t that funny?”

  “No. It’s in your blood.”

  “I doubted that for a long time.”

  “Honestly? Me too.”

  I close the visor. “What? That I have work in my blood?”

  “That you have Mason blood at all, if you really want to know.”

  My jaw drops. Wade looks at me and snickers.

  And Oliver’s back in my top three favorite brothers.

  My phone buzzes in my hand. I look down at the screen.

  Danny: I’m free today. Are you available?

  Me: Yes, if it’s after four.

  Danny: Say around six?

  Me: Perfect. Want to swing by my house? I think it’ll be more comfortable, and I need my partner to weigh in on it too.

  I grin, imagining what Jaxi’s response to my idea will be. I hope she loves it.

  Danny: You got it. Address?

  Me: 7639 E. Scott St

  Danny: Not far from where I’ll be. Perfect. See you then.

  “I’m losing you to the marital side of life too, aren’t I?” he asks.

  “Not yet.”

  He rests his wrist on top of his steering wheel. “Is that what you’re thinking, though?”

  Am I?

  When I think of my future, I think immediately of Jaxi and Rosie. I can’t imagine starting my own side business or having a meal or going to bed without Jaxi. The idea of Rosie waking up at night unable to find me, going to school and having someone be mean to her, or looking up in the stands of a game and not seeing me makes me want to lose it.

  But marriage? Am I a marriage guy?

  Maybe I am.

  When I consider Libby and Ted, I think hell to the fucking no. Why put your life up for potential devastation when you’re capable of doing just fine on your own? But if I look at my parents’ marriage and see decades of faithfulness and friendship and a love that got them through good times and bad—and raising five unruly boys—then, maybe yes.

  If I can’t imagine Jaxi and Rosie not in my life, isn’t marriage the logical, down-the-road step?

  “What do you think about marriage, Wade?”

  He makes a face as though he’s considering the question.

  “To be honest with you, I don’t really see the point,” he says. “It’s a piece of paper. How is that supposed to bind you with another person?”

  I shrug. “I think it’s a religious thing to a lot of people. Otherwise, it’s a sign of commitment.”

  “And so is a dog.”

  I laugh. “I can tell you’ve been hanging out with Rosie.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I mean, marriage has a few practical benefits. It affords you access to health insurance if one person is working, wealth follows paper trails, it makes things like custody of children easier. There are reasons to get married for some people.”

  “But not you?”

  “No. I don’t have a lot of faith in other people’s word. You’re putting your entire life halfway in someone else’s basket. They might love you now. They might be the best person you’ve ever known. But if they get pissed or decide they want out, you’re fucked, and there’s nothing you can do about it because of a little piece of paper.”

  When he puts it like that, I see his point.

  We drive along quietly. Wade stares straight ahead and offers no commentary. He’s really a man on an island, and I wonder why he likes it there so much.

  Or if he does.

  I don’t really know.

  “What game plan are we walking into Greyshell with?” I ask.

  “Logic.”

  I wait for him to expound, but he doesn’t.

  “You’re a wordsmith today,” I mutter.

  “You’re the one who came up with this plan. Why do I have to explain it to you?”

  I twist in my seat. “So, we are going in there with my game plan? Explain the right-of-way? Make them an offer?”

  He nods like I’m just catching on—mostly because I am.

  “Shit,” I say, looking at the road again. “I figured you guys changed it up some.”

  “Why nitpick an idea to death when it’s solid to start with?”

  A bubble of pride swells in my chest. It’s dumb to be proud that your older brother thinks you did a good job when you’re in your mid-twenties, but it’s Wade. He doesn’t toss compliments around for fun.

  “I think we need to charm them,” I say, energized by this recent development. “They’ve pissed off all their neighbors. They might respond to someone being nice to them.
”

  “Not a bad idea.”

  “So that means that I need to take the lead on this.”

  Wade scoffs.

  “What?” I ask. “Can you be charming? Is that a talent you possess that I, nor anyone you’ve ever met, never knew about?”

  “Do you live to annoy me?”

  “Pretty sure that’s the exact reason Mom had me.”

  “May-fucking-be.” He sighs. “You know what? You feel them out. See if your plan works. If it does, we’ll roll with it. If not, we’ll dazzle them with numbers.”

  I cringe. “Numbers are never dazzling unless they’re measurements.”

  I can tell he wants to get pissed. But, to my surprise, he doesn’t.

  He grins. “I think bank account statements can be dazzling.”

  “Well played.” I laugh. “Look at that—Wade has a sense of humor, after all.”

  The humor is short-lived. It disappears from his face as quickly as it arrived.

  I sit back in the seat and let my mind drift to Jaxi and the idea of marriage. My thoughts on the topic are now convoluted. I’d be stupid if I didn’t listen to Wade’s opinion.

  My relationship with Jaxi won’t change if we don’t get married. To be honest, she’s never insinuated she wants to get married anyway.

  I rest my head against the back of the seat and pick up my phone again.

  Me: Hey.

  Jaxi: Hi.

  Me: I have a plan I want to talk to you about tonight. And then a guy is coming by at six. I should be home around four or four thirty.

  Jaxi: Okay. Everything good?

  Me: Yes. I just want to go over a plan I have and see what you think.

  Jaxi: Sounds good. How’s your day going?

  Me: Swimmingly. Just listened to the modern pitfalls of marriage, courtesy of Wade.

  Jaxi: Sounds fun. I’ll see you this afternoon.

  Me: See you then.

  I put the phone back in my pocket.

  Twenty-One

  Jaxi

  Just listened to the modern pitfalls of marriage, courtesy of Wade.

  I wipe the countertop down with a sponge. I go still as I get to the spot in the corner where we made love for the first time.

  At least, that’s what it was to me. And what I thought it was to him.

  A bubble inflates and deflates in my stomach. With each breath I take, my anxiety rises and falls. It feels like something is wrong. Something is off. It’s an intuitive pressure in my body that I’ve learned to observe.

  Why? Because it’s usually right.

  I push forward and finish cleaning the counters. My brain switches into overdrive and dissects every conversation, every interaction, that Boone and I have had over the past couple of days.

  He’s been tired, I know. Rosie hasn’t been sleeping much, and when she does, it’s not in her own bed. We take turns putting her back in her room. We sit with her, talk to her, try to be gentle but firm, but the line on how to deal with this is blurry. She’s in a new house. She’s just lost her mother. We have no idea what to do.

  It’s probably just that things are going great. I’m so used to looking for the dark side of things. I need to learn to override this stuff.

  I toss the sponge in the sink and sigh.

  Did Wade’s and his conversation about marriage have something to do with me?

  I force a swallow down my throat.

  Surely, he doesn’t think that’s what I’m thinking.

  Would I marry Boone Mason? I mean, he’s all kinds of wonderful. But I haven’t been thinking actively about that. I haven’t really even considered it. It’s way too early to contemplate that far into the future when I’m still trying to get through today.

  The sound of my phone breaks my concentration.

  “Hello?” I say into the line.

  “Hi.” Libby’s voice sounds better, stronger than it has lately. “How are you, toots?”

  “Peachy. Cleaning up lunch. Rosie is finally starting to play in her room by herself.”

  “Eh, yeah. That’s why I’m thankful I don’t have kids right now. No offense.”

  “None taken.” I blow a strand of hair out of my face. “What’s happening in Vegas?”

  “Good news from my attorney. Apparently, Ted’s counsel is a dumbass, and we should be able to, and I quote, steamroll him. That makes me happy.”

  I laugh. “Me too.”

  She crunches on something. The sound makes me realize I didn’t eat lunch. I made it. I served it to Rosie. And then I got busy trying to clean out the milk that got spilled in the fridge.

  “So, are you getting … would I stay steamed or rolled as a sexual innuendo?” she asks. “Deep thoughts for today.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m not sure I’d say either, but yes, I’m getting action.”

  She cheers. “Woo-hoo! That’s my girl.”

  “Oh, my gosh. You’re too much.” I shake my head. “You are living through me, aren’t you?”

  “Uh, yes. The only action I’m getting is my mom’s cat rubbing against my legs.” She crunches another chip. “I think I’m in the acceptance stage of grief, by the way. I woke up this morning and saw the sun shine …”

  “In three damn days,” I sing.

  She laughs. “Well, more than that, but clearly, you get the picture.”

  I head to the pantry to see if we have any chips.

  Oh! And maybe some onion dip to go with it.

  I cringe. You are not stress eating. Stop it.

  “So, you wanna talk about it?” Libby asks.

  “About what?”

  “About whatever it is that has you preoccupied.”

  I slouch my shoulders. “Nothing is wrong. Not at all. I just … I’m overthinking.”

  “This is my surprised face. Do you see it?”

  I grin sadly. “I worry that this is getting to be too much for Boone.”

  “Girlfriend, I’m telling you, if this was too much for him, he’d find the nicest way to tell you. He wouldn’t make you guess. He’s not a jerk. Which, now that I think about it, makes me really kind of mad that I didn’t ditch Ted and try to hook up with him.”

  I know she’s kidding. I even know that would’ve been in the past—before I met him.

  Still, it gets under my skin, and I have to talk myself down from saying something catty.

  “I know,” I say instead. “But I just … it’s probably fine. It’s all fine. I’m fine.”

  She laughs. “You can’t just I’m fine yourself out of your feelings. That’s not healthy.”

  “It’s healthier than spiraling down a case of the nerves.”

  “Could you be pregnant?”

  I gasp. “What? No. No, I couldn’t be.” I catch myself. “I mean, we’ve had sex, but he’s used a condom, and I … No. I’m not pregnant. Fuck you for even mentioning that right now. Geez.”

  “I was just trying to help.”

  “Well, you’re not.” I look at the ceiling and try to calm myself. Try to be rational. “He just made a comment to me about a plan he has. And then someone is coming over. Apparently, he and Wade were talking about the pitfalls of marriage today.”

  “So, let me get this straight. You’re afraid he’s going to propose?”

  My eyes nearly fall out of my head. “No, Lib. I’m afraid he’s going to have a plan to segue himself out of this. Like maybe he thinks this is too fast, and I’m thinking we’re forever, and he wants to find the nicest way to tell me. Just like you said.” I slap my forehead with my palm. “That has to be it.”

  She falls quiet on the other side of the line. While it’s uncomfortable and I wish she’d just keep the conversation going so I don’t wallow in this misery, it’s better than the crunching.

  My stomach twists. Nausea bubbles in my throat. I feel wildly out of control on an emotional level as reality pummels me.

  That I know I’m right. That it was probably inevitable.

  That now, because of my willingness to bu
y into a relationship with a man at a time when I was vulnerable, I’m going to have to try to shield Rosie from all of it too.

  Dammit.

  “For what it’s worth,” Libby says, jolting me out of my daymare, “if I were you, I’d think that a proposal was much more likely than a breakup. But that’s me and my unbiased, clear vision speaking.”

  I want her to be right. So much. So much that it boosts my hopes despite the fact that I know raising them will only hurt when the truth comes out.

  And I’m right.

  “Boone!” Rosie shouts his name as she runs down the hallway. “Boone!”

  I poke my head around the corner. “I’m here, Rosie.”

  She screeches to a halt. “Where’s Boone?”

  “He’s at work.”

  “Still?”

  “Yes, still. He’ll be home soon.”

  “Okay.” She walks to me and takes my hand. “Let’s play school.”

  I look down at her. “Go sit at the table, and I’ll be there in a second.” I turn my attention back to the phone. “I gotta go, Lib.”

  “Call me later. And breathe. This is going to be fine. I promise.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Bye, Jax.”

  “Bye, Libby.”

  I feel so bad. I should be the one comforting Libby. After all, I know what it’s like to be cheated on and rejected, but all I can focus on is my life. My future. Well, Rosie’s and my future. Libby deserves so much more from me.

  And this is why it’s so absurd that Ted cheated on her. She’s sunshine and roses, one of the best people I know, and he cheated on her. It doesn’t make sense. I hope she does steamroll him, whatever that means.

  But what else doesn’t make sense is Boone and me. There is no way that Boone is thinking of proposing marriage. No. Way. I’m … me. And now, well, I’m a package deal.

  But how on earth do I make plans to move out and start fresh somewhere when I don’t have a job and need stability for Rosie? Deep breath, Jaxi.

  You’ll never amount to anything, Jacqueline. Everything you touch ends in disaster. You infect everyone with your darkness.

  No. This is not the time to hear Mom’s voice. I’m determined to do this right.