Reckless

A hard kick to my leg jars me awake.

“What the fuck?” I snarl at my brother, who’s hovering over me with an eat-shit-and-die expression.

My heart races from the shock to my system, and I realize I’ve been dozing in the living room. The game is over, and it’s dark outside. Shit.

“How long have I been out?” My throat feels like a dusty Texas road after a heat wave. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I try to shake myself out of this lethargy.

“Long enough.”

“Where are the kids?”

“In bed asleep.”

Like the slow flicker of a movie reel through a camera, I remember what happened earlier. The scene on the porch. The look on Mila’s face as she watched me argue with her mother. Tori’s imploring expression when I sent her away. All the arguing. “Fuck.”

“Fuck is right, asshole. What happened here?” He points to the half-empty wine glasses.

The mess in front of me looks like something I need to clean up, but that can’t be what has his panties in a twist.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” His glare, the kind reserved for men who beat their wives and other scum of the earth, prickles my skin. “I tried to talk Allison off the ledge.”

“With wine?” He paces in front of me. “And candles?”

What the fuck is he talking about? “Christ, it’s not what you think. I asked her what she wanted to drink, and she helped herself to shit in the kitchen. It’s her wine. She bought it and left it here. What’s weird about it? And those candles were there before.” Weren’t they? It’s not like we lit them.

“Wow, and everyone thinks you’re the smart one,” he mutters. Crossing his arms, he leans back against the fireplace.

“What are we even talking about right now? You’re mad because I let Allison drink her own wine?”

“No, asshole. I’m not. I could care less if Allison drank every fucking bottle in the house, but did you bother to consider how this”—he swirls a finger at the stemware on the coffee table—“might appear to your current girlfriend? The one who looked like someone’d kicked her puppy when I found her comforting your children at the diner?”

My gut reaction is to scoff. Surely Tori knows my heart by now. That I would never hurt her or cheat on her. Much less with my ex. That’s a one-way trip to the loony bin. I’ve never cheated on anyone and don’t plan to tarnish that track record. Only lowlifes cheat on their women.

But judging by the seriousness in Logan’s tone—and, let’s face it, my brother is rarely serious except when he’s about to level me with something I genuinely need to know—I shouldn’t dismiss his concerns.

“Are Mila and Cody okay?” I rasp, finding it hard to say the words with the giant knot in my throat. I want to ask about Tori too, but one thing at a time.

“I think so. Mila looked a little worse for wear, but she knocked out as soon as we got home. Cody fell asleep in Tori’s arms at the restaurant.” The flare of his nostrils tells me what he’s gonna say before he says it. “You shoulda been the one to go to the diner.”

Nodding, I close my eyes. I know. For my kids. For Tori.

“Did Tori say something?” A whole host of things come to mind, most of which I probably deserve for not taking her feelings into consideration before shoving my keys in her face and making her take the kids.

“Nope. Not a word. Just…silence.”

Damn. That’s not good. Tori’s not one to hide her feelings.

Logan lifts his brow. “I wasn’t the one she wanted to see tonight. Shoulda been you.”

The more he says that, the more frustrated I grow.

He sits next to me, the weight of everything suddenly suffocating. Doesn’t he know I’m doing my best? The divorce, the bills, children who need love and attention constantly, Allison’s demands, the horses in my stable, my employees. It feels like I’m juggling fifty balls at once and about to drop the one thing that makes them all collapse to the ground.

I don’t know what to say except to start at the beginning where all this started.

Resting my elbows on my knees, I run my hands through my hair, feeling more exhausted than before I fell asleep. “Allison was dropping off the kids. She brought up Cody’s birthday and how she wanted to bring her parents and some friends to the party.”

“How did she know about it?” He rubs his chin.

“My guess is Mila spilled the beans.”

He laughs. “That kid.”

We’ve done this before. Back when Dad died. I sat in this here spot and poured my heart out to my brother, who was only a teenager at the time. Told him my girlfriend was pregnant, and I didn’t know which way was up or down. Wasn’t sure what I should do.

The house was a lot smaller then. Logan’s the one who suggested adding on the extra rooms, so Mom could stay here and help with the baby when she arrived, which would’ve been great except Allison never did get along with my mother.

He sinks back into the couch and kicks one ankle over the other. “So Allison decided to invite herself? Did she even give a shit about the kids’ birthdays last year?”

I shake my head, but he already knows that answer. “We were disagreeing, but it wasn’t contentious. Well, until…” I don’t want to say it.

“Until Tori showed up?” he adds helpfully. “And now Allison wants to come to the shindig Tori’s planning for our family? Fuck.”

“What do I do? I can’t tell Tori she can’t come to the party. I want her there. She’s important to me. But I can’t exactly tell Allison she’s not invited. Not when we’re in the middle of negotiating that contract.”

His head dips back to the back of the couch with a groan. “You sure know how to get yourself in a mess. See, this is why bachelor life is great. Wanna bang a hot new chick? No prob. Wanna fuck two cocktail waitresses at the same time? Someone hand me the lube. But this?” He shivers dramatically. “This I can’t handle. I know I said I was on board with the co-op and having silent investors, but the operative word there is silent.”

“Look at you with the big words.”

He socks me in the shoulder. “I’m just saying, are you sure you want to be tied to Allison for another four or five years? Because if we do this deal, you’re on the hook. We both are.”

Frustration, hot and fierce, fires up in my gut. “What am I supposed to do? Refinance the ranch again? Leave Mom nothing for retirement? She doesn’t even have Dad’s life insurance because those bastards never paid out.” The damn life insurance company argued that he had a preexisting health condition he failed to disclose and denied Mom’s claim.

Blowing out a breath, I break it down for Logan. “You heard our attorney as plainly as I did. People in our situation can either refinance to pay off the other spouse or sell assets.” I spread my arms. “Which assets you wanna sell? Your house? Some farmland, which ain’t worth shit except for our houses and barns? The horses, which is where we get our income from? Please spell it out for me.”

The pained groan that rumbles out of him tells me he’s as worked up as I am, and for a minute, we sit there, silent, muddling through our thoughts, with the recap of the Astros game on in the background.

Shifting on the couch, I try to explain it better. “All I did tonight was talk some sense into Allison. Sat her down, let her relax with a glass of wine, so she’d stop yappin’, and made sure she understood that our disagreements over shit had better start and stop with the kids. That if we sign the co-op contract, she’s a silent partner when it comes to the business.” With a palm over my mouth, I mumble the rest. “I might’ve offered a bigger percentage for her to promise she wouldn’t contest custody of the kids.”

I cringe, knowing my brother might be pissed, but when we make eye contact, all I see is acceptance.

“Mila and Cody are yours, and I’ll go down fighting to make sure it stays that way. Hate that she’s getting more outta this deal, but I can’t say I blame you for trying. If those kids were mine, I’d do the same thing.”

I’m so relieved, I could cry. Instead, I squeeze his arm. “Thanks for having my back, brother.”

He ruffles my hair like I’m a kid. “Always. Now go explain this shit to Tori. Make sure she gets where you’re coming from and doesn’t think you were wining and dining your ex-wife.”

My attention returns to glasses in front of me. To the red lipstick on the stemware. To the half-empty bottle of Pinot.

Goddamn it.

I have to believe she knows me better than that.

The hard thud of my heart in my chest is all I hear as I tap on Tori’s bedroom door, but there’s no answer. With a twist of the handle, it opens, and I’m relieved, so fucking relieved, she didn’t lock me out.

“Tor?” Her petite outline curled up on the bed sends a bittersweet ache through me.

What would she and I be like without all the drama? If we were just two singles in Austin bumping into each other on a Friday evening over drinks in a bar? I’d ask her out in a second. I’d spare no expense to make her feel special.

Instead, tonight, I asked her to whisk away the kids while I dealt with my ex-wife.

How long will Tori deal with that kind of baggage? In my head, I consider all the reasons this would’ve been easier if we hadn’t gotten involved. If we’d kept things professional. Because the boss in me feels like I’m taking advantage of her by asking her to do me personal favors, like watch my kids on a Sunday night.

But the boyfriend in me? Yeah, he’s grateful as hell to be able to trust her with my children. To know when they’re in her care, I don’t have to worry like I would with a stranger. Save for my brother and Mom, there’s no one who adores Mila and Cody more.

Does she have any idea how much she means to me? How grateful I’ve been for our friendship and all the nights she’s let me wrap myself around her in bed?

I toss my t-shirt and jeans on the ground next to the bed and crawl in behind her.

Her breathing is slow and deep, and though I’m relieved we don’t have to talk about all the shit that went down tonight because I’m beat, I hate letting unresolved issues linger. I did that with Allison, allowed too many unspoken things go, and I don’t want to make that mistake again.

“Baby,” I whisper as I hug her to me.

She’s not a terribly deep sleeper, but tonight she’s out. I almost forgot she had her sister’s shower today. Tori must be worn out.

And when she got home, you made her babysit. Nice job, asshole.

Wishing I could wake her and apologize, tell her how sorry I am to put her in that position, I settle for whispering it to her and hoping we get time tomorrow to have this conversation face to face.

If tonight has clarified anything for me, it’s that I can’t do this—life, the ranch, the business—without her help.

But more than that, I don’t want to do it without her.