Page 149 of Reckless
“Figured as much.” The sight of him steals my breath like it did all those months ago. Rugged and handsome and sensual. He makes my mouth water and my stomach flip—he makes me feral in a way I’ve never felt for a man. He woke up a part of me I never knew existed, a little piece of myself I was living without.
“So? Did you open it?”
I tilt my head at him. “Did you really think I would open it without you?” He takes a seat beside me. His knee touches mine, and he moves his foot over to the bottom rung of my stool.
Then he tugs the stool closer so my legs fit between his.
Just like that night in the hotel bar.
“Okay, Tink. Let’s open it.”
“Them. I have two things here for you.”
His dark eyes are lightly hooded as he stares down at the counter, and I decide to put him out of his misery. If he’s nervous, I’m excited. This envelope means I can finally deliver that last killing blow to Dr. Robert Valentine.
The other means that Vivi can be his in a way she should have been from the very beginning.
I rip them both open and unfold the sheets. Laying them in front of Theo, side by side. I don’t bother reading them. Instead, I put my hand on his back and watch his face. His heavy brows, the stubborn set of his jaw, the straight line down his strong nose.
And the joy in his eyes when he hits the ink that confirms what we already knew.
He wasn’t there for Vivi’s birth, but he can be here for every moment after because he’s her dad.
Then his gaze shifts over, to the papers he wasn’t expecting. The ones that detail legal name change from Vivienne Hamilton to Vivienne Loretta Silva. My way of showing Theo that he’ll never be an interloper—he’s stuck with us for life.
He says nothing, but I watch his throat work. “This... this is...”
“If you want, we can get another DNA test done to officially match you with—”
He spins and kisses me, his hands tangling in my hair as he claims me with his mouth, brands me with his hands.
We don’t talk. There’s nothing left to say. We talk with our hands as each piece of our clothing gets discarded. We talk with our lips as he lays me on the couch and hovers over me. We talk with our bodies as we come together achingly slow and the most delicious tension unfurls between us.
It strikes me that perhaps I’m not an easy woman to love, but Theo does it so effortlessly that I feel like I could be. Like I deserve to be.
I come alive beneath his hands. I come apart beneath them too. And he puts me back together every damn time.
We lie here in the afterglow, bodies sticky with perspiration, hearts beating against each other, arms wrapped tight like nothing in the world could pull us apart.
“You ready to throw those flowers out now?” Theo’s husky voice pulls me from my thoughts. He glances over at the sideboard, upon which sits the vase containing moldy water and black, wilted roses. “Because now they’re more gross than they were in the first place.”
I rub my cheek against his toned chest and giggle, feeling lighter than I have in...well, maybe ever.
“No. I have a plan for those.”
41
Winter
Winter:You ready?
Summer:Very.
* * *
Ihear the shuffle of three other sets of feet behind me as I walk up the winding brick pathway to the house I used to call home. Now, compared to where I live with Theo, it feels gaudy and overdone. Big and empty. It takes up every square inch of space on the lot. The trees are too small and new, and I can hear the rush of traffic from the nearby freeway.
It’s not Chestnut Springs.
