Page 20 of Something Reckless

ALBA

T oday, I’m working my receptionist shift at the hospital’s main front desk. I’m greeting all patients and visitors who enter the building, answering phones, and trying to keep up with paperwork. I’m multitasking like my life depends on it.

“Name?” I say automatically when a shadow looms over my desk.

“Someone I know likes to call me ‘Mr. Tower’,” a deep, smooth, familiar voice says.

A smile touches my lips before I even look up. Easton …I lift my head and find him standing in front of me.

“You still going by that horrible nickname, huh?” I wrinkle my nose at him.

He leans his weight against the counter, bringing the subtle, spicy scent of his cologne along with him. He shrugs. “You gave it to me.”

That’s true.

“Well, because you’re freakishly tall,” I quip, trying to keep my heartbeat even.

“And you’re still adorably short,” he quips right back with a mirthful smile. Twinkling eyes and deep dimples included.

I ignore the way my stomach flutters as we stare at each other. Reaching up, I mindlessly fiddle with my glasses. It’s nerves , I tell myself, I’m just nervous around him because of everything that’s going on with Jagger.

Pretending to organize the forms on the desk in front of me, I look away from him and change the subject. “What are you doing here?” I ask, both terrified and thrilled by the idea that he might be here to see me.

About Jagger, of course.

He and I still have unresolved business where my nephew is concerned.

Aside from a quick text message to let him know that I mailed out the DNA testing kit, I’ve sort of been dodging his attempts to keep in touch over the past few days.

But I can’t avoid him for much longer. Easton’s brother pulled some strings and he’s getting the results rushed.

Soon, we’ll officially know the truth about Jagger’s paternity.

And that could change everything.

As hesitant as I am about Easton storming into my nephew’s life, I know that he’s the real parent here. At a moment’s notice, he could make a legal power move and completely pull the rug from beneath me.

This situation is delicate. I’ve got to play nice with him.

“Physiotherapy session.” He points down toward his ankle, and I feel my shoulders soften in relief. “Do I get the pleasure of being checked in by you today?”

I let out a quiet snort. “Yep, and I’ll do you one better.

I’m about to go on break so I’ll even walk you over.

” After I check Easton into the system, I lean over and tap the shoulder of my co-worker who’s also working reception here today.

“Hey Laney, I’m going to take my break. I’ll be back in ten. ”

She ends the phone call she’s on and wordlessly stares at Easton, her jaw gaping to the floor.

“Um, Laney?” I try again. “I’m taking my break. Can I bring you back a snack?”

She blinks and nods.

“What would you like?” I ask her.

“Holy hockey biscuits…” she mumbles, eyes transfixed to Easton’s butt as he turns and wanders a few steps away.

“Laney!” I hiss. “No hockey biscuits on the cafeteria menu.”

Her cheeks turn pink as her guilty eyes bounce back to mine. “Sorry.” She shakes her head. “No hockey biscuits for me.” She leans toward me and lowers her voice. “But I do have a question, though. Where exactly does one acquire a man who looks like that?!”

I blatantly roll my eyes at her.

She tilts her head and pouts. “Hot girls don’t gatekeep. Whatever happened to girl code?”

Chuckling, I grab my purse from under the desk. “I’ll fill you in later.”

As my work bestie and also Julissa’s roommate, I should give Laney the tea about the whole Easton saga. She always gives amazing advice so I’m sure she’ll have a good tip or two for how to make sure everything goes smoothly with him.

For now, I lead Easton down the hall toward the elevators. When I glance back at Laney, she throws up two crossed fingers for good luck. I appreciate the sentiment.

I turn my attention to Easton with a smile as we walk. “So, how has physiotherapy been going?”

The patients and hospital staff can’t help but stare at Easton as he passes. I wish I could say I don’t get what all the hype is about. But I do. I really, really do.

He’s so damn pretty. Looking at him almost hurts. There’s just this overwhelming presence about him that makes me squeeze my thighs together. I’m well aware that my body’s reaction is inappropriate, but when it comes to Easton, I’m not sure how to discipline my rebelling lady parts.

“Things are actually going well so far.” He nods. “Everyone is hopeful that I’ll be on track to get back to playing hockey when the season starts up.”

I feel a sudden ping in my chest, a painful one. Like someone stabbed me with a plastic fork, right in the heart. Here I am mentally making all these plans for him to be in Jagger’s life. Meanwhile, Easton is busy preparing to go back to his hockey life.

I know what he said. It’s not like he’s going to Mars. But the last time he left to play hockey, I didn’t see him for nine whole years.Will this time be any different? Will he disappear for almost a decade again? And worse, will he take Jagger with him?

Maybe I should talk to a lawyer. Wait—I can’t afford a lawyer. So I just have to trust the process.

And despite all the uncertainty I’m feeling right now, I have to believe that everything will work out for the best.

Easton is a good guy, and he’s excited to be a father. He’s not trying to run away from this. So until he gives me a reason to believe otherwise, yup, I need to trust the process.

“That’s great. Really,” I say, trying to mean it, even if my anxiety’s not completely on board with the sentiment.

People continue to stare at him. I’m not even sure he notices, as his attention falls squarely on me. He’s the kind of man who naturally draws attention everywhere he goes. Of course he does. Easton Raines is big, muscular and too handsome to ignore.

“I wanted to say thank you for letting me see Jagger the other day,” he says as we stroll side-by-side. “It meant a lot to me to get to spend time with him.”

“You can see him again if you’d like,” I say before I can stop myself.

The truth is, Jagger has already asked me a hundred times when he’ll get to play hockey with Easton again. It would be cruel of me to try to keep them apart. Even though I’m not ready to tell Jagger everything, it’s important for him to have a male presence in his life.

“Hell, yeah.” Easton triumphantly pumps a fist in the air.

“Just name the time and place, and I’m there.

” The slow, outdated elevator arrives and we step onboard as he continues to stare at me.

“Thanks, Alba. I mean it.” He flashes me another brilliant smile, showing off his gorgeous dimples once more.

I get a warm flush from head to… there . “It’s no problem,” I say, continuing to play it cool.

The elevator is empty—a rarity here at the hospital. The doors inch closed, trapping us alone inside. A strange tension instantly comes to life between us and I’m acutely aware of the way it makes my stomach tingle. Suddenly, I’m not so sure that being alone with this man is a good idea.

I can feel Easton’s eyes on me and my cheeks begin to grow hot. The weight of his stare on me makes my knees want to buckle.

Act normal, Alba. Act normal . Even though I can feel him watching me, I just stand there, keeping my gaze focused straight ahead and avoiding eye contact with him at all costs.

“Uh, Alba? ”

“Hmm?”

He motions to the panel I’m staring right at. “Fourth floor.”

I give my head a shake and press the button. “Right. Fourth floor.” Cheeks warm and tingly with embarrassment, I quickly retreat to the elevator’s back wall.

Oh my god, Alba. Just. Act. Normal.

As the creaky elevator begins to climb, something invisible but undeniable crackles in the air. Easton prowls closer to where I’m standing and I swallow thickly, every one of my nerve endings aware of his proximity.

“Alba…?” The low, primal way he growls my name should put the fear of god in me.

Instead, it makes my panties wet.

“Yes…” I breathe out.

“Why won’t you look at me?” he questions.

My skin prickles and my heartrate accelerates. “Gimme a sec. I’m trying to gain my composure,” I admit, the words forcing their way through my constricted throat.

“Your composure? What’s wrong with your composure?” he asks, his voice deep and husky and tinted with mirth.

“You’re messing with it,” I spit out.

Easton steps right in front of me now, giving me nowhere to hide. “How am I messing with it?”

I try to take a step backward, but my back is literally up against the wall. “Easton…”

He reaches out and touches the curl dangling by my cheek. “Do you find me attractive, Tiny Tiger?” His words are rough like they were raked over gravel. “Because I find you attractive. Very much. In fact, I can hardly stop thinking about you.”

I look up into his face, almost blinded by his beauty. I want to lie, but the glint in his eyes dares me to tell the truth .

“You’re very handsome, okay?” My eyes quickly dart away from his. It’s an act of self-preservation.

Easton’s fisted hands grip the elevator railing on either side of my waist, effectively caging me in. “Then fuck your composure, Alba. Lose control for once. Kiss me.”

His tempting lips lower halfway to mine.

He waits.

Objections flood my mind, but I can’t make sense of them. It all sounds like static noise inside my head.

“Fuck it…” I hear myself whisper, and a smirk unfolds across Easton’s face.

I grab him by the front of his shirt, yank him down and crush my mouth against his.

Easton doesn’t hesitate. His fingers grasp my hips and his body crushes mine against the wall. I gasp at the feel of his erection trapped against my stomach.

Seizing the opportunity, his tongue sweeps between my parted lips, deepening what was already the hottest kiss of my life.

My fingers find themselves in his hair. I’m pulling and tugging and needing him closer.

His large palm smooths down my ass, yanking my thigh up around his waist. On a groan, his hips thrust forward, giving me a feel of the equipment he’s working with, and, oh-my-god-what-is-even-happening-right-now?

With a ding, the elevator door slides open and I hear a loud gasp from right over Easton’s shoulder.

Oops!

The two of us jump apart. Well, more like, I push him off me with superhuman power. Taken off-guard, Easton stumbles backward, barely avoiding a collision with Tammy.

Tammy, the nosy waitress from the local diner.

Tammy, the biggest gossip in Fairy Bush .

Welp—R.I.P. whatever was left of Alba Anderson’s reputation around this town.

“Oh…uh…sorry,” a disoriented Easton mumbles, raking his fingers through his hair as Tammy enters.

“Carry on, kids. Never mind me,” the woman says, grinning lecherously as she perches in the corner of the elevator. She props herself against the railing and stares like she’s waiting for a show.

I stumble to the opposite corner, doing everything in my power to keep from banging my head against the closing elevator doors. What is wrong with me? What is wrong with me? What is wrong with me?!

It takes an eternity for the slow-ass elevator to finally climb to the fourth floor. When it does, I clutch Easton’s shirt by the sleeve and practically hurl myself off the lift.

Somehow, Tammy manages to catch me by the wrist. She quickly digs into the pharmacy bag that’s clenched in her hand. She slides a small foil packet into my palm. “There’s a nice, quiet stairwell that way.” She points down the hallway with her chin. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

As if.

Embarrassment and shame choke me as the elevator doors close on Tammy’s conspiratorial grin. Burying the condom at the bottom of my purse before anyone can see it, I spin on my heel and hustle toward the opposite end of the hallway.

“Holy shit…” Easton mutters, staggering after me. He reaches for my arm and I pinball around him like a dodge ball championship star.

Because I’m still reeling from that kiss. If he touches me right now, I might combust. And I can’t combust. I have to be back at my desk in like, eight minutes or something.

“Alba…” he calls my name .

I spin to face him in the quiet hallway. “That was wrong,” I blurt out, eyes wide, chest thumping, nipples tingling.

Stop tingling, Nipples! For chrissakes!

“I…I know,” Easton says, sounding way calmer than I feel.

“That was never supposed to happen,” I whisper-yell, still freaking out.

“I know,” he says once more.

“And it can never happen again,” I command, my head vigorously shaking left to right, left to right.

“Agreed.” Easton gives a firm nod.

He steps closer.

I step back.

He sighs.

“Look, Alba. I wasn’t thinking. It was a mistake.

A weird, heat of the moment thing that neither of us planned.

I got carried away. I’m sorry.” His face finally goes sober, all traces of lust dissipating like wisps of smoke.

“Just tell me it’s not going to change things between us where Jagger is concerned.

Please tell me you won’t make it difficult for me to see him because I made a mistake. ”

Jagger.

Jagger’s wellbeing is what’s important here.

I pull in a breath, my entire body still tremoring with adrenaline and whatever other chemicals that kiss sent rushing through my system.

“Nothing changes where Jagger is concerned,” I promise softly, my sinuses prickling and my eyes welling up. I shake my emotions away and make an unconvincing attempt to appear stoic.

“Thank you.” Easton says in quiet relief, clasping his hands over his chest. “Thank you. I’m sorry. Thank you. ”

Then he pivots, walking backward into the physiotherapy doorway as he continues to stare at me.

He flashes me a wobbly version of his devastating smile, showing off his gorgeous dimples once more before he disappears.

On shaky legs, I head back downstairs and sink into my seat behind the reception desk.

Laney pushes her keyboard aside, grabbing my arm and shaking it. “So…how did everything go with Mr. Hockey Snack? Did you bite that biscuit?” She laughs proudly at her joke. Then she observes my face and goes serious. “Wait. Are you okay? You look flushed.” She shoves my water bottle at me.

My hands are still shaking but I refuse to acknowledge it. I take a long chug of water, hoping to lower my temperature and to calm my jittery nerves. “Fine. I’m fine.”

Except, I’m not fine. Now that I’ve had that man’s mouth on mine, I’m not sure that I’ll ever be fine again.

Oh boy. Easton Raines was—and always will be—nothing but trouble. But I suspect that he might also be a good dad.

That’s the thought that helps me stuff my tangled feelings into a box and hide them away at the back of my mind. That’s the thought that gets me through the rest of the day.