Reckless (Chestnut Springs Book 4)
: Chapter 19

Winter: Thank you for tonight.

Theo: I didn’t do anything special.

Winter: You did.

Theo: Want me to come over and do something truly special that will have you thanking me profusely?

Winter: Are you always this horny?

Theo: I was going to say clean your house. Get your mind out of the gutter, Dr. Hamilton.

“Out you go, Peter.”

If looks could kill, I’d be dead now. Peter glares up at me—back rounded and one front paw lifted—while his tiny body shakes. Some people might think he’s cold, but I know better. That’s his small-man rage.

“I know. How dare I make you get off the couch and go pee?”

He trembles again.

“I am officially the worst person in the world.”

The dog’s ears flatten and his usually buggy eyes narrow.

I sigh, tired after one of the weirdest fucking nights of my life, and bend down to scoop him up. “Let’s go, asshole. I won’t have you waking me up in the middle of the night.”

We head out the back door, and Peter makes unimpressed grunting noises. I place him on the grass and take a seat on the back porch step. He turns and shoots me a disapproving scowl over his shoulder.

“Is that what I get for rescuing you? I don’t even like small dogs. You’re an exception.”

He gingerly walks across the grass like its mere existence is a personal affront to his sensitive little legs. I decide I’ll mow the grass shorter tomorrow. I’ll do Winter’s lawn too.

That’s when I hear it.

Vivi’s angry cries filter into the night from next door. These older homes have a lot of character, but terrible soundproofing.

I’m torn about what to do. I hate that Winter does everything by herself.

I can’t believe I said something about not wanting my dog to wake me up at night when Winter has been doing that for months.

Alone.

Peter sniffs and spins like he’s going to pee. For whatever reason, he decides the patch of grass in the corner is trash and unworthy of his gift. So, he goes back to sniffing to find the perfect spot.

Vivi wails, and the more I hear her cries, the more agitated I feel. I stand and watch Peter glance around like he’s looking for the ideal location to build his dream home, not take a piss.

“Come on, Pete. You used to live in the street. You’re not this fancy. Pick a spot.” I snap my fingers before twirling them in an agitated “let’s go” motion. Because I can’t just sit here, or crawl into bed for a full night’s sleep, knowing they’re struggling a few feet away.

So, when Peter finally relieves himself, I march across the lawn and scoop him up to the chorus of more agitated grumbles. I take the narrow sidewalk between the houses, step over the low picket fence, and walk straight across the neighboring lawn to the front door. Based on the crying coming from inside, I will not be waking anyone up, so I knock three times. Hard.

It takes a bit, but the door opens. Winter’s still in her dress, and she’s washed her face, but only one side.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to keep it down.”

I stare at her. She has no idea how to ask for help.

And then it hits me. She’s had no one to ask.

“I thought I could just transfer her from the car seat to her crib.” A sigh that could also pass as a sob escapes her as tears spring up in her eyes. “But that stupid fucking creaky hinge that I keep meaning to fix woke her up and now she is pissed. I tried bouncing her and she doesn’t want to nurse. And I can’t handle listening to her cry, but I also don’t want to sleep with my makeup on or without brushing my teeth. So I just need a minute and then I’ll keep it—”

I put a hand on her shoulder and ease her back into the house, kicking the door shut behind me. Then I hold Peter out to her. “Here. Take my dog and go to bed.”

She takes him, even though she looks down at his spindly body like he might be diseased. I nearly smile as the realization hits me. Peter and Winter have a lot in common. Prickly on the outside, a little broken on the inside, and in desperate need of someone to hold them.

“I don’t need your help, Theo.”

This is the part where she lashes out, but I expected that from her. She’s fiercely independent.

I give her a soft smile while she and my dog glare at me. “I know you don’t, Winter. But I want to help anyway. Let me help tonight, okay?”

Her eyes go round as saucers. She’s so used to people walking away when she gets snappy that I confuse her when I don’t back off.

So, I press a hand to the small of her back and lead her down the hallway.

“Am I supposed to let your dog sleep in my bed?”

“Yes.”

“But he—”

“Will be good for you. He likes to snuggle, and he sleeps like the dead. Go finish taking off your makeup and brush your teeth.”

With a gentle push, I send Winter into the bathroom and then turn around and enter Vivi’s nursery, her angry wails filling the air.

“Baby girl, what is the commotion?” I coo as her tiny arms reach up for me. “You can’t be partying this late. Your poor mama needs some rest.”

I lift her into my arms, and her wet cheek nuzzles into my neck. Tiny fists grip at my shirt, and . . . she just cries harder.

“Okay, you’re really mad. I get it. It seems like everyone is tonight, so you aren’t being original at all.”

Bouncing her, I walk out to the kitchen and pull out all the bits and pieces I need to warm some milk from the freezer for her. “You know when I get crabby? When I’m hungry. So you get that from me. Let’s try this again.” Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

She gasps for air, body heaving under the weight of trying to catch her breath. “My mom calls it hangry. Hungry and angry together. My sister gets that way too. Probably why she’s always making fun of me. She’s just hangry. I’m pretty sure it’s a Silva trait.”

By the time her bottle is ready, Vivi’s cries have slowed and I head down the hallway toward her room. I plan to sit in the rocking chair with my daughter and watch her drift off to sleep.

My head snaps up when I hear the squeak of door hinges. Winter stands at the entrance to her room, directly across the hall from Vivi’s, looking tired and wide-eyed all at once. Like she doesn’t know what to do or say when someone swoops in to help her.

She nibbles at her lip as I draw closer, and my gaze drops to trace over her flimsy cotton nightgown. I wonder if she’s wearing anything underneath. Images flash through my mind of me flipping it up and taking her.

“Go to bed, Winter.”

“Are you sure? What are you going to do?”

I place Vivi in her crib and put the warm bottle into her grabby hands before turning to face the woman who has occupied all the space in my brain since the first moment I laid eyes on her—since before that probably.

Every time Rhett brought up what happened between her and Summer, I couldn’t help but think that we weren’t getting the entire story. That people aren’t cruel for no good reason. That two siblings shouldn’t be so at odds. That parents shouldn’t fuck their kids around as badly as what he described. My childhood wasn’t perfect, but I never doubted how much my parents loved me.

It’s true I didn’t know Winter, but I wondered about her all the same.

“I’m going to take care of our daughter so that you can get the rest you need.”

“That’s okay. I don’t need your help—”

My hand shoots out, wrapping around hers gruffly as I march her back into her bedroom. It’s like mine, with crown moldings and polished hardwoods, but hers has a feminine touch. She has a beautiful, antique-style brass bed frame. It’s dainty and polished, probably cool to the touch—just like her.

But if you hold that metal long enough, it will heat. Take on the temperature of its surroundings.

Winter just needs a little heat to warm herself.

Peter has already curled himself onto the pristine white bed sheets, approving of the extravagant room.

“Get in bed, Winter. Or I will put you there myself.”

Her body is close enough to mine that when she turns to face me, the tips of her nipples brush against my chest.

“What part of I don’t need your help isn’t registering?” Her shoulders rotate back, but that only presses her breasts further into my chest.

Vivi is blissfully happy with a bottle in her crib, and Winter has her claws out just the way I like.

Two can play this game.

Times are changing.

“All of it, Winter.” I run my hand down the side of her body, palm shaping her hip. No hemline of panties at all. I groan right as she sucks in a breath, both our chins dropping to look at my hand splayed over her possessively. So small beneath my palm.

Memories filter in of me flipping her over and lifting her hips just the way I wanted them. Her ass arched back toward me, legs spread wide in offering, while I reached under her body to strum at her clit. She whimpered my name and came on my cock, even though she swore she never could.

I drop my mouth to her ear, not missing the way she shivers. “You’re going to accept my help. And you’re going to like it. You might even thank me for it.” I nip her earlobe and lower my voice to add, “Like you did the last time I gave you a hand.”

With a few gentle steps, I move ahead, pushing her toward the bed until the backs of her bare legs butt up against the edge. With a soft nudge at her hip, her tired body folds and she sits on the mattress with me towering above her.

I softly grip her jaw as I bend down to come eye to eye with her. Her pale blue irises race over my face like she’s trying to guess what I might do next.

There’s no resistance in her right now, only curiosity. Possibly even some of the same memories I’ve been obsessing over, based on the way her hard nipples strain against her nightgown.

“We’re a team, Winter.”

Her breath fans out over my damp lips in short, harsh pants as she stares at me. “A team.”

I nod. “Yes. A team. So we’re going to have to work together sometimes. You can’t fight me all the time.”

The column of her throat works as she swallows, and I pull away, needing some space. Needing to get away from her before I fuck up this sliver of trust I’ve worked on earning with her.

“Yes.” Her voice is an unsteady whisper. “We’re like business partners.”

Business partners.

That term still makes me want to break something.

We are not that.

My grip is back on her chin, a little firmer this time, as I angle her face up to mine. “Winter,” I rasp. “I have sponsors. And agents. Doctors and trainers. Those are business relationships. You and I are a lot of things, but business partners is not one of them.”

She licks her lips—licks her fucking lips—gaze bouncing between my eyes while her hands grip the edge of the mattress.

“Why not? We could be.”

This woman never backs down. It’s fucking infuriating, and I love that about her.

“Because the things I dream about doing to you are horribly unprofessional.”

I throw all my restraint out of the goddamn window and take her mouth.

I’m hard and unyielding, one hand at her jaw while the other slides into her hair. And she doesn’t miss a beat. Her mouth opens, and she welcomes the kiss. Her hands latch onto my shirt and she steps in close.

Like a precious metal, she warms.

Soft lips and hungry moans take me back to our night in a dimly lit elevator. To a hallway where I shoved her up against a wall.

I swipe my tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss. She pulls me closer, over her. Until she’s laid back on the mattress and I’m straining to keep from falling straight into the bed with the woman who doesn’t seem to comprehend how tempting she is.

Her kisses are wild and frantic, edged in desperation. Her nails dig into my back as I nip at her bottom lip. My cock strains at the front of my jeans, but I force myself to hold back.

One of her legs wraps around my hips, tugging me close. Lining us up.

I grind into her, knowing I shouldn’t.

Knowing these jeans are so easily discarded.

Knowing how long it’s been.

Knowing she’ll regret this in the morning. Or worse, hold it against me and think I pounced on her in a moment of weakness when she wasn’t sure.

I want her to be as sure as I am.

I draw back, and for several seconds, we stare at each other. Much like eighteen months ago, I think we realize there’s a fervor between us that neither of us can explain or resist.

A pull. A connection. A longing.

Or maybe that’s just me. After all, she just announced me as the father of her child and also her business partner to our closest group of friends and family.

“I’m sorry. I . . . you need rest.”

As I pull away, her hands tighten momentarily, like she might give me a sign that I shouldn’t leave. That she wants me as badly as I want her.

But nothing comes.

When I stand and stare down at her, she is deliciously disheveled. Puffy lips, chaotic eyes . . . and her nightgown has shifted up, baring her to me. Pussy spread, looking so damn pink and wet and inviting.

I often daydream about spending long, lazy hours with my head between those thighs.

Tearing my gaze away is nearly impossible, but continuing to stare at her with no response feels like an invasion.

I scrub a hand over my stubble and force myself to look away, seeking control in whatever corner I might find a shred of it. Then, with a pained groan, I reach forward and gently lower the light cotton to cover her while her eyes stay fixed on mine.

A deep flush creeps down her throat and over her chest, but she makes no move to stop me. Her chest rises and falls heavily as she watches with vibrant blue eyes and bright pink cheeks.

“Goodnight, Winter,” I whisper, clinging to the thread of control that doesn’t feel strong enough to drag me away from her.

That cool mask slips back over her dainty features as she replies with, “Goodnight, Theo.”

There’s a bite in her words. She wields my name like a whip, and I feel the sting of it.

“Sleep.” My voice comes out scratchy and unsure. “And don’t get out of bed until it’s light out.”

Peter peeks one eye open at me in dismissal before I walk away, forcing my joints to carry me toward the hallway.

And when I go to close the door behind me, the hinges squeak and Vivi’s cries come roaring back to life.

I’m happy to take over tonight. I want to spend quality time with Vivi.

That’s why I’m here.

But fuck. I can’t keep pretending either.

I want to spend quality time with Winter too.

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