Reckless (Chestnut Springs, #4)

by Elsie Silver

Failure is not the falling down, but the staying down. Mary Pickford

“Thanks for clarifying, Winter.” There’s a biting tone to his voice that might make some people flinch. But not me. A dark part of me takes immense pride in the fact I know exactly how to piss off my husband. My lips twitch as I struggle to contain my satisfied smile.

I reach for the zipper and force it together against the bulging contents of my suitcase. “It’s funny,” I start, ensuring that I keep my tone cool and even. “It’s almost like . . . you are the very last person I would ever consult about my life.”

“Don’t play stupid. It pairs so poorly with whining.” I can’t help but ask myself why I’m still married.

“You think you never loving her makes it better? That’s my baby sister you’re talking about. The one who almost died. And you fucked her around for years. And me? I don’t think you’ve ever loved me either.” My words echo in the spacious foyer as we stare each other down. “I have.” I have. That’s his proclamation to me?

I feel very small and very stupid right now. Because I love my sister. I just have a fucked-up way of showing it.

I know how everyone sees me. I’m not oblivious to it. They might not speak it, but I hear it loud and clear all the same. A doctor who got her position at the hospital through family connections and marriage. A woman who is unapproachable, cold, and unhappy. A wife who is pathetic enough to ignore her husband’s betrayal.

I’ve never wanted to be around my sister more than I do now. When she was sick, I used to sneak into the hospital and check on her, read her chart so I knew how she was doing even though I was still only in university. And now? Now, I look at my little sister and all I see are the years I missed. I see a woman who lived in misery to save me a little of my own. It would seem we’re kindred that way.

“Hi . . . are you . . . are you okay?” I nod while the bridge of my nose stings. I’ve been awful to Summer over the years and her first inclination is to ask if I’m okay. “Win?” I suck in a deep breath of air. Win. Fuck. That nickname. She just falls into it so easily. I absently wonder how I’m named in her contacts. I always imagined it was “Evil Half Sister” or something along those lines.

I don’t deserve Summer. But I want to. And that comes with being honest.

I’ve stared at him so long, so thoroughly, that the gas pump makes a loud clanking noise as it bumps back into my palm, signaling the tank is full. The noise of it draws his attention my way, and he turns the full force of his sex appeal on me. The square jaw dusted with the perfect amount of stubble, topped off with lips that are just wasted on a man. The way he looks? It’s absurd.

But as I’m about to slide into my seat, I peek back over my shoulder at the guy. The one standing at his silver truck. The one who’s still watching me with a knowing smirk on his face. The one who runs a hand through his perfectly tousled hair and winks at me.

Because the very last thing I need in my life is someone who makes me feel like there’s not enough oxygen in my lungs when I’ve only just caught my breath.

When I make it out, I hear, “Are you fucking insane?” Okay. She’s mad. And she doesn’t sound drunk at all. She’s got her keys wedged between her fingers like claws and I instantly like this girl. No preamble. Just comes out swinging. She’s tiny and ferocious. I feel like Peter Pan getting reamed by Tinkerbell. “Easy, Tink.” I offer her a smile and lift my hands in surrender, not wanting to make her feel threatened. “Tink?” Her voice goes even louder. I wave a hand over her. “Yeah, you’ve got this whole angry little Tinkerbell vibe happening. I dig it.”

I glance back at the woman before me, about six feet away. Everyone has described her as cold and distant. A real ice-queen. I’ve heard the stories. The drama. They’ve made her sound like some sort of criminal mastermind. But all I see is a firecracker who needs my help to work out some aggression.

“You’re lucky you make my little sister so happy, Eaton,” she says, sounding utterly exhausted. Rhett hums good-naturedly, his eyes taking on that melty, drugged look he gets when people so much as mention Summer. But he doesn’t address that; instead, he says, “Theo’s just a baby though. You can’t corrupt him, Winter.” I roll my eyes. “I’m not a baby. I’m twenty-six.”

“Ah, yes, Winter, meet my protégé Theo Silva. Theo, meet Doctor Winter Hamilton, my future sister-in-la⁠—” “Winter Valentine,” she interrupts him with a stiff correction. “For now,” I add, winking at her. Because now that I know who she is, I don’t feel so bad about making my play. I know who her husband is. And I already know I don’t give a fuck about that guy. I already know Winter can do better. And I’m a lot better, whether she realizes it yet or not.

“Call your dog off, Eaton.” She keeps walking, only addressing Rhett, like I’m not even here. But goddamn, I love a challenge. I turn with a loud, “Woof!” as I watch her petite frame slip into the bright light of the warm, bustling house.

Rhett is laughing. At me. Not with me. “You’re an idiot, Theo.” I shake my head. “Dude. I think I’m in love with your sister-in-law. She’s so fiery.”

I want to know more about Winter Valentine. Like when that divorce is happening.

Pathetic as it sounds, it’s nice to have someone look at me that way. Of late, I’ve grown more accustomed to looks of disdain and looks of pity. And when Rob looks at me in a way that I know means his dick is hard, it just makes my skin crawl. This is different. I want Theo to admire me, but I also want to kick him in the shins.

Summer hustles over to me, her cheeks all rosy. Her smile so sincere. And she says nothing. She just flings herself at me and wraps her arms around my neck, burying her head in the crook of my neck. So openly affectionate. I’m not used to it. I didn’t expect it. So, I stand a little woodenly before hugging her back. Her body softens and a small sigh leaves her lips when I do. “I am so happy you’re here,” she whispers to me. And I’m glad no one can see my face right now because I’m scrunching it up furiously. Doing everything I can to keep from falling apart in the middle of another family’s holiday gathering.

she pulls away, one hand on my shoulder while the other wipes at her big brown doe eyes. They’re the same shape as mine, but a different color. We both have our dad’s features, but I took after our mom’s coloring.

I snort and gaze up at him, blushing a little at the knowing look in his eye. It’s unnerving. He’s unnerving. So I volley. Hoping I can wound him enough to make him leave me alone.

And she’s talking about NHL superstar Jasper Gervais. One of my dad’s clients, and the man who is sitting beside her, staring at her like she can shoot rainbows out of her vagina or something. I don’t even think he’s listening. He’s just staring at her like she hung the moon. It hurts to see his expression. I hate feeling jealous, but so much of what I see here tonight fills me with that dark, bitter emotion. I could burst with it.

But Willa draws his attention. Her eyes dart momentarily to mine, and I give her a small smile. I like Willa. She’s been a sister to Summer in ways that I never could. And I think I’ll always love her for that.

“I’m sorry.” Theo is standing over me when I glance up. I swear I look behind myself to see if he just said that to me. There’s a deer head with a lot of antlers hanging on the wall. I point. “Why? Did you kill it?” His lips lift, and the skin beside his eyes scrunches up just a little bit. “I wasn’t talking to the stag, Winter.”

“I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable on the drive here. It wasn’t my intention. Like . . .” His hand swipes through his hair, all tight on the sides and just a bit longer on top. Lending him a sort of sex-mussed quality. “At all.” I nod but cross my arms like they might shield me from him. “Okay.” His thick, dark brows pop up on his forehead. “Yeah? Is that like . . . apology accepted?” “What if it’s not?” I arch one brow at him in challenge. And I almost don’t recognize myself. Am I flirting with him?

“I’ll be heartbroken if you don’t like me,” he adds as he drops to a crouch in front of me. Coming to eye level does nothing but increase the intimacy of this conversation. I roll my eyes. “I thought you wanted me to accept your apology. Now I have to like you too?” He shrugs, a playful grin making his dimples pop. “They’re basically the same thing.” I snort. This man. “They are not the same thing.” The tip of his tongue darts over his bottom lip, and my eyes follow raptly. “Agree to disagree.”

“I accept your apology,” I say, using the most detached voice I can muster. “But I dislike you.” He chuckles, and it’s deep and warm, all amused like I’m just a challenge—and not an intimidating one. “I can work with that for now,” is what he responds with before accepting the handshake.

I haven’t been able to take my eyes off Winter all night. I feel like I’m watching the Discovery Channel, studying the merging of two packs of hyenas or something. The chatter in the house doesn’t stop, neither does the laughter. No one is trying to make her uncomfortable. They don’t need to. She does it all on her own.

“I’m not driving with you.” Winter flies off the front steps into the storm, flakes swarming her like she’s living inside a snow globe. “Okay.” “I don’t even want to talk to you.” “Well then, stop,” I tell her with a chuckle as I come to stand at the top of the stairs. Her mouth opens and then closes. “You are so annoying.” “Is that a medical diagnosis?” “I . . .” She looks away and I swear I see her lips twitch. “Good lord, you are unbelievable.”

“My mom is a massive, unforgivable bitch. That’s where I get it from.” I rest the side of my face into my hand, elbow propped on the table. “It’s hereditary. That’s why Summer is so nice. Her mom, Sofia, was the best. I don’t remember her that well, but I remember her being fun. I remember her smiling a lot. Deep down, I can’t blame my dad for fucking the nanny.” Theo watches me, riveted by the story of my upbringing. We’ve resorted to sipping our shots of tequila after tossing two straight back.

“And you know what the worst part is? When she got knocked up, my mom fired her. Like it was her fault alone. And I loved Sofia. The nanny that came after was mean. Like my mom wasn't just punishing my dad by hiring her, but punishing me too.”

“I wonder if that cruel side is as hereditary as Summer’s nice side, you know? Like maybe that facet of my personality is just waiting to rear its ugly head. I don’t want to be like my mom, but I worry I already am.” “I think the fact that you’re even worried about that means you’re not like your mom at all.”

“You’re a manwhore. Who is younger than me. And you look like that.” I wave a finger over him. “And I still like you.” “And I’m an unhappily married twenty-eight-year-old⁠—” Theo interrupts me with an eye roll. “Mention our two-year age difference like it matters again, and I’m going to mock you mercilessly.”

“No, Winter. I like you. Stop telling me I don’t.” A wry laugh twists my lips as I drink and inspect the charming little bar. A sort of old-world Victoria allure graces the space. A perfect fit for the elegant boutique hotel. “I’m not likeable, Theo. People don’t like me. Not really.” I hold up a finger and give him a wide-eyed look, signaling that now is not the time for him to barge in with his tongue-wagging nice-guy act. “People respect me because I’m smart. Or because I’m accomplished. But they don’t like me.”

“I think I like you because you are a heart-stopping, jaw-dropping type of beautiful.” My face reveals nothing. No one has ever complimented my looks over my brains and I . . . I don’t even know what to make of it.

My jaw unhinges and then I feel it. It’s foreign, but there’s no stopping me. I drop my head onto my crossed arms on the table and burst out laughing. The laughter hurts my throat as I try to silence it. It leaks from my eyes no matter how hard I try to keep it in. It shakes my shoulders as it overtakes me. And the deep baritone of Theo’s laugh joins me, twisting with mine like a symphony.

“It’s like this.” Theo reaches out one toned arm, grabs my stool, and tugs it around the small round table. He turns us both. Bringing us face to face, so the outside of my knees presses up against his inner thighs. That spicy citrus scent wraps around me. The urge to lean forward and nuzzle into his neck hits me like a ton of bricks. We’re too close.

His eyes lock on mine with a level of intensity that screams at me to be careful. And then he says, “I’m going to ruin you tonight.”

I don’t think a single person would ever guess that Winter and I would end up together.

I don’t want to be the one-night stand who’s used to scratch an itch. I want a woman like Winter Hamilton—beautiful, and smart, and sharp-tongued—to look at me and see a future.

The blonde woman beside me beams with pride and I can’t help but smile back. It sounds childish, but somehow Sloane has wiggled her way into my life in the past couple of weeks. She’s Rhett’s cousin, and she says she thinks she met me at exactly the right time. She says she needed someone like me in her life, but the thing is . . . I think I’m the one who needed her.

“Are you going to crack some wiseass comment about me coming here to do something mean to my sister?” I ask. Her brows furrow. “Why would I think that?” My eyes roll in time with my arms crossing. “Everyone thinks that.” “I think you’re a lot more likeable than you realize.”

I huff out a laugh. “Likeable when I want to be could be my slogan.” Truthfully, it smarts. As though no one really likes me when I’m at my worst. I’m likeable when I put on a smiley, happy face. But what about when I crumble? Then all I get is criticism and reprimand.

And then I got pregnant. After which, I promptly found out all the ways my husband had betrayed me. I lost him. Then I lost the baby. Then I lost myself. I’ve only admitted it once out loud—to my little sister’s best friend Willa. I confessed to her that broken as my miscarriage left me, there is a shameful part of me that’s relieved I’m not tied to Rob Valentine for the rest of my life.

Winter: I’m coming back. Harvey: No. You aren’t. If I can keep Rhett alive, then Vivi will be a breeze. Winter: Somehow that isn’t very comforting. Rhett is insane.

I don’t know what kind of karma was working in my favor to make Summer put all the years of tension behind us so readily. And I still haven’t quite found the words to thank her for it. She was there for me while I was pregnant and alone. She was in the delivery room holding my hand. She was at my house, filling my freezer with meals when I got home. I’m not sure I deserve her, but I’m too selfish not to lap up what she’s giving me.

“Move.” I physically push a man aside and insert myself into the circle of people around Theo. I drop to my knees at his head, noting his still body. My hands cup the sides of his helmet, holding him in place until the paramedics can get here. I lean down over him and see his chest rising and falling, but I need to hear his breath—I need more proof.