Reckless (Chestnut Springs Book 4)
: Chapter 14

Sloane: Should I kick him out? I’d kick him out for

you.

Winter: It’s fine.

Sloane: Should I come back from vacation and beat him up?

Winter: I would pay good money to watch you beat someone up.

Sloane: Is that a yes or a no?

Winter: Just don’t tell anyone. It’s his story to tell.

Sloane: What story? I don’t even know what you’re talking about.

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.

T heo Silva is standing on my front porch at 10 a.m. on the dot. I can see him on the screen of my phone, awkwardly shifting his weight on his feet, with a paper coffee cup in each hand.

I’ve been ready for this. For him. Yesterday, I got the sense he wouldn’t be taking off into the sunset after finding out about Vivi. And I spent the entire night awake thinking about it.

He must hate me deep down. How could he not? But I want him to have a relationship with his daughter. I don’t want her to live with the fraught tension that I grew up around. I’m a grown-ass woman. A doctor. I know that I’m not warm and fuzzy, but I’m mature.

Ish.

I have my moments, and this needs to be one of them. For Vivi. 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.

Tugging at the bottom hem, I glance down at my vintage Rainbow Brite T-shirt. I paired it with baggy boyfriend jeans because none of my jeans from before fit that well anymore.

Something I try not to think about too much.

At least my tits look great.

Not that it matters. Because Theo is my . . . co-parent. We’re like business partners. Yes. I like how that feels. Tidy and non-threatening. Like we’re a team but can go our separate ways at the end of the day.

With a sure nod, I pocket my phone and open the door.

“Dr. Hamilton, were you waiting for me?” He winks, and all that composure evaporates like it was barely ever there. I’m plunged back to that night at the gas station. His undone boots and cocky grin.

Me staring like a total idiot.

The rush I felt when he hiked my dress up over my thighs like he was unwrapping a present. His fingers hooking inside my panties without even hesitating.

I clear my throat. “Looked more like you were waiting for me from what I could see on the camera.”

He glances up, eyes shifting until they land on the little square with a lens in the corner. “Good. I’m glad you have a security system. I was going to offer to put one in.”

I nibble at my lip and blink away. Why is he so . . . nice?

It’s unnerving. People are never this nice unless they want something from you. It’s not normal.

“Why don’t you just knock or ring the doorbell?”

He shrugs. “I don’t want to wake her up again.”

“I can give you my number.”

“I have it already.”

“How do you have it already?”

He clears his throat and then says, “I put it into my phone that night.”

I blink. “That night?”

“That night.” The word drips with innuendo. There’s no mistaking what night he’s talking about.

“You took my number without asking?”

Pink tinges the top of his ears, and he has the sense to look a little chagrined. “Figured I’d need it someday.”

I don’t know what to make of his revelation, and truthfully, don’t feel equipped to deal with it. I opt to forge ahead, leaving whatever complicated shit that is in the rear-view mirror. “So . . . you were just going to wait out here until I, what? Checked my mail?”

A deep rumble rolls in his chest and he smiles. Fuck, his smile is blinding. “I don’t know, Winter. I didn’t have a big plan. I grabbed you a coffee and decided to figure it out from there.”

He holds one hand out to me, steam wafting up through the hole in the lid. “Got it in town. Thought you might need one as much as me.” The corners of his eyes pinch, and I recognize how tired he appears. His golden skin has blue smudges beneath his dark eyes, and the stubble on his jaw has grown a little longer than his usual curated scruff. “It’s just an Americano.” He gestures the cup to me again.

I take it, realizing I’m staring at him, wondering why he’s bringing me coffee.

“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 style—fuck.” He swipes a hand through his perfectly tousled hair. “Sorry. Can you say something so I stop making awkward jokes to fill the silence?”

I peek up at him through shrink-wrapped eyes. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

His brow furrows and his face shows genuine confusion. It strikes me as unusual how he wears his heart on his sleeve, the way every emotion and thought almost prints itself on his face.

“Winter, I think we’ve been through this once before. You keep looking for some ulterior motive with me, and there isn’t one. Can I come in? I want to see . . .” He pauses and clears his throat, like it’s still a struggle to say this out loud. “Vivi. I’d like to spend some time with her and talk to you some more.”

With a nod, I step aside and usher him in.

For a normal meeting.

A business meeting.

Watching Theo hold Vivienne for the first time does a lot of things to me. First, it makes me want to hurl in much the same way he did last night. There’s something profoundly overwhelming about seeing his eyes latch onto hers while her small hand wraps around his finger. “Hi, baby girl,” he murmurs. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

The sweet cooing noise she makes back at him, like she’s an instant goner for this man, makes me want to cry. And I never cry. It’s just not my thing. It’s pointless, and I always feel tired and bereft afterward—not better.

But when I can see him getting emotional just looking at her, holding her in his arms so naturally, it hits me in a way I never, ever saw coming. He stands and bounces gently, walking toward the big bay window that overlooks the front street.

He turns them toward his yard. “That’s where I live. Right next door. So, if your mom says it’s okay, I could come visit now and then.”

I sit on a stool at the kitchen island and try to remember the last time I just sat and drank a coffee that was still hot. Not hot out of the microwave, but truly fresh. I feel like I’m in this constant cycle of not having anything specific to do all day, yet the day goes by so damn fast.

Cooking, cleaning, sleeping, entertaining, snuggling, nursing, socializing. It seems like it should be easy. I work in chaos for a living, but this is so much harder.

Which is why I cannot, for the life of me, account for the way my body reacts to the sight before me. 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. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Look how beautiful you are.” The sun lights Theo and Vivienne’s faces in the same warm, golden hue. “You look just like your mom.”

Vivienne stares up at him and giggles, small hands reaching for the stubble on his cheeks, squealing when it rasps against her palms.

“Fuck,” I mutter, blinking faster than a hummingbird’s wings as I try to burn my tongue on the coffee just to give myself something less mushy and unhinged to cry over.

I’ve seen Rhett hold her a million times, and it’s never been like this. No, this is all Theo.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asks as he turns back to face me.

Vivienne laughs and continues running her hands over his face. And gah, I can’t even blame her.

“Yeah,” I lie. “You?”

“Not especially.” His face morphs into a more solemn expression as he glances down at her again. “So, what led you to pick Vivienne?”

I chug back a hot gulp of coffee. Yes, more coffee. Why am I so emotional? I need to get this shit on lock before I go back to work in a few months. If I cry while I deliver bad news to people, I might as well quit.

“Um . . .” I glance around the room, feeling like I might be stronger if I don’t have to look at them. “It means ‘alive’ and, well . . . she made me feel alive again. She made it when my last baby didn’t. And it felt like a good adult name, you know? Like she could be prime minister with a name like that.”

Theo hums happily and smiles down at Vivienne. “Prime minister? Good for you, girl. I can’t wait to tell people my daughter is the prime minister.”

Breathe, Winter.

I laugh to cover the emotion welling at the back of my throat. How dare he be so . . . him. “Of course, I never considered that feeling alive would also be so exhausting. Or that I’d want nothing more than for no one to touch me, even just for an hour. Or that I’d never bathe alone again.” A shrill laugh leaps from my lips, a sad attempt to cover the emotion in my voice.

Theo’s dark eyes glance up at me. “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.”

The grin he hits me with is pure knowing. 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 remembers that night.

“Tink, please. I might not know you all that well, but I have a sinking suspicion that the future prime minister’s first word might be fuck.”

I bite down on my lip to hide the smile. Solo motherhood has turned me into a fucking trucker. I can’t even deny it.

“Go. I’ve got her. We’ll stay right here and wait for you.”

I glare at him.

“To finish.”

Asshole. I glare harder, but the desperately touched-out part of me screams, Do it! Take the bath!

“You know what? Yes, I’m going to go. I haven’t had a bath alone in nine months.”

“Good. Enjoy yourself.”

“If she cries . . .”

“We will be fine. All my older cousins have a million babies. I used to babysit.”

“I just fed her, so she should be fine.”

He smiles, all warm and gooey.

“Look. I haven’t left her alone with anyone except Harvey and Sloane’s mom, Cordelia.”

“Not even your parents?”

I glance away. “No. That’s complicated.”

“Listen, if you’re not comfortable, I can leave. I don’t want to barge in here and demand time you aren’t ready to give. This must be weird for you.”

For me. That’s the final straw. Tears build in a way that is impossible to stop.

All my life, not a single person has prioritized how things might feel for me. And here is this man I barely know, prioritizing me.

I force a watery smile. “I can’t think of a single better person to watch her right now.”

He nods, eyes scanning me just a little too closely.

I nod back and head to the bathroom to cry in my bath.

And maybe watch some porn.

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