Reckless (74 page)

“Hey, Kiera. Great party.”

Leaning in to her, I laughed. “Thanks. Abby did most of it, though.” Sighing, I looked back at Kellan. He’d started singing along with Griffin, but he was laughing so hard he
didn’t sound very good. He looked good, though.

Jenny snorted. “Is this because Kellan lost that bet?”

Looking over at her, I frowned. “What bet?”

She grinned and pulled her long locks away from her shoulder. “You know, Griffin bet him that he could knock Anna up again before Kellan knocked you up again.” Jenny rolled her eyes.
“I don’t think Kellan actually accepted the bet, but still, you know how Griffin loves to win . . . anything.”

My eyes widened as far as they could go. Anna was pregnant again? Sitting herself up, Anna happened to glance my way. When she saw my face, then saw Jenny beside me, she instantly knew that I
knew. Her lips curled into a smirk, and she merely shrugged at me. I was so floored, I could barely come up with words. When I did, they were laced with disbelief. “Those two are going to
overpopulate the earth, aren’t they?”

Jenny pursed her lips. “Yep. Probably.”

Kellan had control over his chuckles by the second verse. Then he started getting into it. Always the performer, he gave the cheesy eighties teeny-bopper anthem his best. No one in the room had
dry eyes. Not Cheyenne, Meadow, or the rest of Poetic Bliss. Not Justin or Kate, cuddling on the love seat. Not Troy, Rita, or Sam.

When Kellan and Griffin’s song was over, Kellan and Ryder took a small bow. Then Kellan handed the microphone out to Rain. Just as eager to perform as Griffin, Rain jumped off the couch
and ran up to the “stage.” They had to pry the microphone cord away from Ryder, which made him start to cry. Bouncing him as he walked, Kellan reached into his back pocket and handed
him a rattle in the shape of a guitar. He instantly started shaking it, a smile on his tiny lips.

Kellan walked over to me, pulling Ryder out of his carrier as he did. My face scrunched up into a “gimme” expression as I held my hands out for my baby. Kellan instantly handed him
over, kissing his head before he did. Warmth and softness overwhelmed me as I held Ryder close. I inhaled a deep breath as he grabbed a fistful of my hair. He smelled like Kellan. Somehow, whether
it was hereditary or just a by-product of being so close to Kellan all the time, Ryder always seemed to smell like his daddy. It was incredible.

Hours later, when the party was over, I wandered through my home littered with red Solo cups and half-eaten pieces of cake. I felt totally at peace. Even messy from a party, this place was my
sanctuary. My journey here had been tumultuous at best, but it was worth every scrape, heartache, and tear. Kellan and I were who we are now because of it. We’d learned to open up to each
other, to trust each other, to face the world together. I firmly believed now that there was nothing we couldn’t tackle together. No hurdle, no obstacle, no setback was so large that it would
break us apart, and there was comfort and confidence in that knowledge.

Shuffling past stray balloons that had somehow found their way upstairs—I’d worry about cleaning up my safe haven later—I made my way to Ryder’s bathroom. I could hear
splashing water and Kellan’s voice. Oddly enough, he was singing “Electric Youth” again. The song must have gotten stuck in his head. Heading for the open door, I leaned against
the frame and watched my husband bathe his son.

Ryder was lying in a small blue plastic tub inside the larger one, keeping him safe and secure. As Kellan gently poured a cup of water over his head, Ryder’s mouth opened wide and his
tongue shot out, like he was waiting to get a drink. He shoved his hand in his mouth instead. When Kellan noticed me watching, he turned his head my way. “You can go lie down if you want. I
got this.”

Smiling, I shook my head. “I like watching the two of you together.”

Rubbing some soap in his hands, Kellan told Ryder, “Hear that? Mommy likes to watch. That’s called voyeurism.” He sounded the word out, like he was expecting Ryder to repeat it
back to him. Instead Ryder pressed his lips together and blew out, humming his lips and getting spittle all over his little face.

Stepping up to Kellan, I nudged his butt with my foot. Jackass. Chuckling, Kellan got to work sudsing up Ryder’s hair; there was dried frosting in it. Thanks to a moment of playful
splashing by Ryder, Kellan was a little wet by the time the bath was over. Pulling him out of the tub, Kellan wrapped Ryder in a towel shaped like a giant yellow duck. As if a man holding a baby
wasn’t cute enough, a man holding a baby wearing a hood shaped like a duck bill was downright delightful.

I wasn’t sure if it was normal or not, but just watching him take care of his son was putting me in the mood. Maybe I
should
go lie down, wait for him in bed with just my KK
underwear on. But I couldn’t stop watching him with Ryder, and I followed the duo when they headed over to Ryder’s bedroom.

We’d turned Ryder’s room into a stage. Jenny had helped me paint it, since she was the one blessed with artistic talent. One wall was painted black with thick red curtains on either
side of it. Ryder’s crib was positioned in front of the black wall, in the lead singer’s position. My mother had flipped out when I’d told her that I painted Ryder’s room
black. But it was an homage to Pete’s, the starting point of both Kellan’s career and our relationship; we were even going to hang some guitars on the wall when Ryder was older. And
besides, every parenting magazine I’d ever read said that babies loved the contrast between black and white. And every other wall in his room was white. Well, white except for the black
five-line stave across the center of each wall. Jenny had done an outstanding job with those. And the notes sliding up and down the perfectly straight lines were to an actual D-Bags song, the sad
song that Kellan had been singing when we got back together. His ode to me. The significance squeezed my heart every time I walked into this room.

Wading through a sea of books and toys, Kellan laid Ryder down on his changing table and quickly slapped a diaper on him. That was something we’d both learned right away: if you wait too
long to put a diaper on a baby boy, you were going to get peed on. Kellan got it in the face once. I’d nearly passed out from laughing so hard. Once Ryder was safe, Kellan leaned down and
blew raspberries on his stomach. My favorite sound in the world filled the room—the uninhibited belly laugh of a sweet little human being that knew nothing about feeling self-conscious. It
was infectious, and Kellan and I were both laughing right along with him.

After a half-dozen kisses, one on each foot, one on each hand, and a few on his cheeks, Kellan finally got him into his pajamas. Ryder’s belly was already full, and he was rubbing his eyes
like a madman, so I knew he was seconds away from sleep. Kellan still held him and rocked him until his eyes closed, though. And he sang to him. He sang to him almost every night. And he always
told him that he loved him, like he wanted to make sure that Ryder never doubted that, not for an instant.

My eyes were wet when Kellan put our sleeping child to bed. Glancing up at me, he crooked a smile. “Every time,” he whispered.

“What?” I sniffled.

Grabbing my hand, he quietly pulled me from the room, shutting the door after him. “Every time I put him to sleep, you cry. Why do you do that?”

Because I love you more than any one person should be allowed to love someone.

“I just love seeing how much you love him.” In my complete happiness, I felt a tear roll down my cheek.

Stepping in to me, Kellan grabbed my hands and lowered his forehead to mine. His thumb traced his name on my wrist. “I love you too, you know.”

I nodded. “I do know. You show me every day.” Pulling back, I indicated our bedroom with my head. “But why don’t you show me again right now?”

The smile that crept over Kellan’s face was so devilishly handsome that a rush of desire flooded through me. I loved that he still had that effect on my body. “I would love to show
you, again and again and again.” He bit his lip, then slowly dragged his teeth across them while his eyes scoured my body. It was such a hot move. I felt naked already. And sexy, and loved,
and wanted.

Needing him just as much as I’d always needed him, I pressed my body against his and wrapped my arms around his neck. With my chest flush against him, I stood on my toes until my lips were
barely brushing his. “Take me to our room and make love to me nice and slow . . . please?” Not a trace of embarrassment was inside of me as I asked for him. I could ask him anything. I
could tell him anything. I could be anything with him. I could be
everything
with him.

Kellan pressed me against the hallway wall, making me gasp. As his lips lowered to mine, his hands reached down and, scooping up my legs, wrapped them around his waist. Hungry and passionate,
his mouth worked over mine. When he paused, we were both breathing heavier. We were both ready and aching for the other. “I love it when you beg,” he husked, before stepping away from
the wall and carrying me to our plush bedroom.

He didn’t set me down until we reached our bed. I felt on fire as he stripped my clothes off. He hissed in a breath when I removed his shirt and kissed over his tattoo. By the desire
racing between us, you would think we hadn’t been together in weeks, not twenty-four hours, but that was just the way it was with us—electric. Every time.

His fingers unfastened my jeans and my fingers ducked inside the waistband of his. I wanted him, so much. He whimpered as I felt his need for me. By the time we were both laid bare, I knew I was
going to explode soon, but that’s when Kellan’s expertise kicked in. Instead of finishing what we both wanted as quickly as possible, he took his time. He dragged it out. He kept me on
edge, wanting more and more. It paralleled our relationship—always wanting more of him, never having enough. Sure, we had our moments, just like any relationship, but being with him, in any
capacity, was always satisfying. And I knew by his reaction as we both finally reached our climaxes that he felt the same way. He needed more and more of me. He would always want me near him. I
would always be first in his eyes. We were a good match. A perfect match. Soul mates.

Passion, friendship, love, loyalty, trust . . . if you found the right person . . . you really could have it all.

First and foremost, I would like to thank all of the fans. Bringing this trilogy to you has been such a joy! I am awed every day by the outpouring of love you have for these
characters. They are like my children, and to know that others care for them just as much as I do warms my heart. Thank you for your devotion!

To my four foundations, Rena, Lesa, Toni, and Amy, you are all a blessing in my life that I wouldn’t give up for anything. To my family, in case I don’t say it enough, I love you all
very much! To Wayne, Robin, Tyson, and Dean, thank you for your never-ending support and encouragement, and for being so patient with me and my crazy schedule.

To my mentor, Nicky Charles, thank you for guiding me through the rocky road of self-publishing! You’ve always been there to lend a hand and an ear, and I’m forever grateful.

To K.A. Linde, the world’s greatest muli-tasker, you have been such an incredible friend, and I am so honored to have started this crazy journey with you. I’m so incredibly excited
to see your star taking off! You deserve it! I’m so proud of you!

To Jenny . . . where to begin. Thank you for being my rock! Thank you for being my cheerleader! And thank you for being my friend! I think I would still be huddled in a corner crying my eyes out
if it weren’t for you. I love you to pieces!

To Becky, Monica, Lori, Gitte, and Sam, thank you for your advice and expertise. My stories are better because of your help! Thank you for selflessly giving me so much of your time. A huge thank
you to Lysa at Pegasus Designs for my beautiful website, and Sarah at Okay Creations for my D-Bags store. And to Francine, your logos are incredible! Thank you so much for letting me use them!

Thank you Jamie McGuire, Colleen Hoover, Tammara Webber, Tina Reber, Tracey Garvis-Graves, Jessica Park, Abbi Glines, Jenn Sterling, Rebecca Donovan, Tarryn Fisher, and all of the other authors
who have supported me, encouraged me, and answered endless questions. I’m honored and humbled to be among such greatness.

Heartfelt thanks to Kristyn Keene at ICM, for being a fan as well as a super agent, and Louise Burke, Jennifer Bergstrom, and Kate Dresser at Gallery Books, for believing in these books and
taking a chance on me.

And a great big thank you to the reviewers and bloggers who screamed their passion for these stories! You made your voice heard, and I wouldn’t be where I am without you—Totally
Booked, Maryse’s Book Blog, The Indie Bookshelf, Lisa’s Reads, Tough Critic Book Reviews, Book Snobs, My Secret Romance, Lori’s Book Blog, Novel Magic, Flirty and Dirty Book Blog,
Literati Literature Lovers, The Subclub Book Club, The Autumn Review, and many, many more!