Reckless (Chestnut Springs, #4)

by Elsie Silver

Because Theo is all man, all masculine lines, dark swirling colors, gentle touches—gentlemanly behavior.

Regret? I look him over like I would a patient and wonder if a single woman has ever regretted fucking Theo Silva. It seems highly improbable. And I want to find out. For science.

“I can’t wait to see how fucking pretty you look when you come with my name on your lips.”

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.

Winter: I can’t remember a single hug. Marina: What? Winter: You never hugged me. Never consoled me. Marina: That’s what the nanny was for.

DUDE WTF

But there’s something unforgettable about the way his callouses felt sliding over my skin. The way he touched me like he couldn’t get enough. His palms never stopped exploring me, worshipping me.

Velvet taste, microfiber budget. That’s me. Winter Hamilton. And I’m alright with it.

Sloane is one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met. She’s sweet, but not sickeningly so. Now and then she says something inappropriate and then giggles to herself about it. I like that about her. She’s relatable.

Sloane: Does it have to do with your murder plot? Winter: Yes. I’m making you my accessory. Sloane: New friendship level unlocked!

It’s like my body knew Rob was a piece of shit, even when my brain didn’t. Ha. No. Nice try, honey. We don’t want a baby with this man.

Winter: Fine. That night in the hotel, a condom must have broken. I’m pregnant. The baby is yours. Thought that might interest you. Theo: Thanks for letting me know.

WTF IS HAPPENING

Eighteen months later…

GET OUTTA HERE

I don’t even know what the fuck this is. Wranglers, cowboy boots, rhinestone belts. Even the children are wearing little cowboy and cowgirl outfits. It’s like I’m at one of those historical re-enactments where all the dorks dress up like knights and kings. Except here, all the dorks dress up as cowboys.

I don’t need him. I never did. But he hurt me all the same. Thanks for letting me know. Sometimes that sentence wakes me up at night. I hoped that even though we were clearly incompatible, he might want to play some part in raising the child we made. After all, I watched my dad dote on a little girl born of an affair my entire life. There were times I begrudged him for that, but now? Now, I can respect him for how he handled Summer—even if he failed me in the process.

<////3

Maybe there’s something chemical between us,

My fingers fold around the damp plastic cups and I look down at the new boots on my feet. Pale brown cowboy booties with a metal embellished toe. Because, apparently, I can’t wear normal shoes to this event without becoming some sort of pariah.

But my eyes are stuck on Theo, his ass looking way too good in those jeans. I can resent him and still like his ass. That’s perfectly acceptable.

I stare down at Theo and am hit with a pang of longing. Not for myself, but for . . . everything we missed.

“When I started out, I didn’t think wearing a helmet looked as cool.” “Yeah, brain injuries make you look so cool,”

I’m like Goldilocks picking a type. Too beefy, too long hair-y, and then there’s Theo.

No such thing as too beefy or too long hair-y!!!

I want to pick up a rock and throw it at Beau’s stupid GI Joe head.

Loooool stop

Friends. God. We are much more than friends. And nobody knows except us.

“Winter is nice.” The sentence comes out with more force than intended, more than is appropriate for the situation. But I think I’ve felt protective of that woman since the first night I laid eyes on her. I didn’t know then how desperately she needed someone to be. That no one had ever been that for her. That she’s been fending for herself since before she should have needed to.

I can’t help but smile. He and Summer are so damn good together.

“Do you know that dog gets boners randomly sometimes? Like he’ll just be sitting there and have his red rocket out.” “You’d be in the same boat if you couldn’t wear pants.”

This is both gross and funny

She’s all on her own. And that woman is an island, so if you figure out a way to help her that isn’t with your dick, I’m all for it. Mow her lawn or something, yeah?” I can’t help it. I waggle my eyebrows at Rhett. “Good lord.” His eyes roll.

I’m torn. The bitter she-devil on one shoulder wants to leave him out there getting soaked, but the curious caretaker angel on the opposite shoulder wants to make sure he’s okay.

Even in a moment like this, the air between us hums. It makes me want to lean back into him and have his arms wrap around me.

After only a few beats, he shifts his fingers so that they link between mine. His hand squeezes, and it feels like he’s squeezing at my heart instead.

Sloane: LMAO. See what I did there? Winter: Did Jasper fuck all the brain cells out of your head with his massive dick? Sloane: You love me. Winter: I do.

I know that I’m not warm and fuzzy, but I’m mature. Ish.

I won’t worry about Theo liking me, and I’ll ignore how painfully attractive he is and chalk him up to an excellent specimen. Vivienne will thank me for those genes one day.

“I didn’t know what you like.”

I stare down at the lid, almost teary over the fact he’s here. Even though I dropped a bomb on him last night, he’s bringing me coffee.

“Other than tequila and doggy ...

Theo was already hot as fuck, and Theo holding a baby is even hotter.

If he goes out in public with Vivienne, he’s going to get more pussy thrown at him than he already does. And somehow that makes me irrationally jealous.

How dare he be so . . . him.

“Of course, I never considered that feeling alive would also be so exhausting.

“Go take a bath, Winter.” “What?” “Take that coffee and go run yourself a bath. Close the door. Put some music on. Watch some porn. Go have a moment to yourse⁠—” I bark out a laugh. “You did not just tell me that. In front of a young, impressionable mind, no less.”

I love Theo omg fucking SWEETHEART

He knows what he does to me, I’m sure of it. The way his eyes peruse my body is proof.

I don’t think I’m the only one who vividly remem...

I nod back and head to the bathroom to cry in my bath. And maybe watch some porn.

Same

Sloane: You deserve it. Winter: Do I? Sloane: Yes. Hot baths and a hot baby daddy. You deserve the world. Winter: He really is hot. Sloane: Hotter with a baby I bet. Winter: You have no idea.

“Hi,” I whisper as I walk over to them. Theo glances up at me but does a double take. “What?” “You just . . .” His lips roll together. “You look beauti—different.” I almost smirk. Beautidifferent.

“What makes you think I don’t want this?” I let my eyes trail over the beautiful man on my couch, with our baby girl laid over his heart. “Not at this point in your life. And not with me. You’ll never convince me otherwise.” His features harden, a steely glint flashing in his eyes. “What makes you think I wouldn’t want this with you?”

I sniff. “Willa took a very graphic video. I can show you sometime.” “I would love that.” “It’s not sexy.” I side-eye him and he scrunches his brow. “It will ruin any splendid memories of my vagina you might have.” “Nah. That’s impossible. Those memories are why my right forearm is bigger than my left.”

“Hope she’s not too disappointed.” But Theo doesn’t follow suit. Instead, he scowls at me. “I could fucking bury whoever made you believe you’re as unlovable as you seem to think.”

I give my head a brief shimmy and turn to keep walking. I’ll pretend that little moment didn’t happen at all. It’s just the baby-brain. I zone out all the time now. It has nothing to do with Theo Silva. And definitely nothing to do with that night.

“Do you know if Theo Silva lives here?” she calls out to me. “Yup,” I reply with a thin smile. For all the hard work I’ve done on becoming a kinder, less judgmental person, I take one look at this girl and hate her.