Page 42 of Something Reckless

EASTON

I wake up with a smile on my face, and as I stretch my arms and legs into my morning starfish, I can’t help but wish that Alba were here with me.

Last night was incredible. Touching Alba. Tasting her. Watching her fall apart for me. It was an out-of-body experience. I still can’t believe I got so fucking lucky.

I haven’t stopped thinking about her since I left her house last night. Even after showering and brushing my teeth once I got home, I could still smell the scent of her skin, I could taste her, I could hear her sexy, little moans echoing in my head.

My hand strokes my morning wood through my boxers as my thoughts wander to my favorite memory from last night—eating Alba’s pussy right there on the front porch. That was crazy. We could have gotten caught. But I’d do it all over again if I could.

Hell—I can’t wait for the next time.

Staring at the ceiling now, I let myself imagine what morning time might be like over there at Alba’s place. Coffee brewing. Waffles in the toaster. Jagger trying to pour his own cereal while talking her ear off about whatever book he’s zooming through at the moment.

It sounds like the perfect kind of chaos to me.

Without a second thought, I snatch my phone off my nightstand and call Alba to see what their plans are for today.

It rings and rings. I swallow my disappointment when she doesn’t pick up. I’m sure she’s busy.So I don’t immediately call her again and that takes all of my self-control. Instead, I settle for rolling out of bed and starting my day.

I’m sitting down to eat my freshly cooked turkey bacon and eggs when the phone rings, Alba’s name flashing on my screen.

Grinning to myself, I accept the call. “Heya Tiny Ti—”

“Dad?”

I blink in surprise when Jagger’s voice comes through the phone instead of Alba’s.

“Jag? What’s wrong? Where’s your Mimi?”

“She’s sick,” he says, and my fork clatters to the table next to my uneaten breakfast. “I tried to make her some toast, but I don’t know how to make her feel better.”

I’m already on my feet, grabbing a T-shirt and pulling it over my head. “Okay, little man. Listen carefully, I’m on my way over, okay? Don’t you worry. I’m on my way.”

I drop everything, jump in my car, and race over to Alba’s house. Jagger left the front door unlocked, just like I instructed before we hung up. Chest thumping, I barge inside the house and rush into Alba’s bedroom.

My feet skid to a halt when I find her buried under the covers. Jagger is curled up next to her, holding his finger to his lips—telling me to be quiet—and looking downright worried about his aunt.

“Alba,” I whisper, crouching down on the floor next to her. “Tiny Tiger, are you okay?”

When she barely stirs, I lean in, pressing the back of my hand against her forehead. After a moment, her eyes flicker open. It takes a while before her gaze focuses.

“Easton? What are you doing here?” She groggily tries to sit up.

“I called him, Mimi.”

Alba turns, looking surprised to find Jagger there in bed with her.

“Oh, thanks for looking out for me, baby.” She weakly brushes his messy hair from his forehead.

Then her eyes turn back toward me and she tries to fix her own wild curls.

“But I’m fine. Really. You shouldn’t have come all the way over here. ”

“Alba…” I start.

“Really. I’m not even sick. I’m just tired,” she argues, clearly trying to downplay whatever she’s going through. Her bloodshot eyes dart toward the clock. “Shoot. In fact, I need to get my butt out of bed. I have to get to work. I have a cleaning shift starting in half an hour.”

She whips back the covers and leaves Jagger in bed, stumbling into the bathroom. The child looks at me with worry on his face.

“Everything’s good, buddy,” I say. “I’m just going to check on her. Why don’t you put on one of your shows?”

Jagger nods and reaches over to grab the remote off the nightstand.

Then I follow Alba inside the bathroom and shut the door behind me. It’s cramped in the small space, and I approach her from behind, wrapping my arms around her waist as she splashes water on her face.

Alba turns the faucet off and tries to pull away from me.

“Hey. Hey, it’s just me,” I console her softly. “I want to help. Let me help?”

She tiredly leans against the sink, breathing out a heavy sigh. “I’m having second thoughts about this wishlist thing.”

My eyebrows pull into a frown. I wasn’t expecting that. We both had fun last night, didn’t we?

“What? Why?”I wait while she leans down and splashes more water on her face.

When she starts talking again, she refuses to meet my eyes. “Because it’s distracting me from what’s important.”

I spin her around, cupping her chin. “Tell me what’s going on, baby?”

Baby…

Fuck. That just spilled out. But Alba doesn’t react to the unexpected pet name, so neither do I.

Her big, green eyes well up with unshed tears. “I failed my realtor test for the second time, and I have to retake it,” she confesses hoarsely.

A tear falls.

Then another.

And I struggle to figure out what to say.

She yanks roughly on her hair. “It’s just…

my realtor license is my key to finally being able to get out of my shitty financial situation and make a life for me and Mom and Jagger.

But here I am, wasting time by playing around with the guy who got my sister pregnant nine years ago. What the hell is wrong with me?!”

When she says that, it stings. But why should it? She’s right. I am the father of her sister’s kid.

I just thought she saw me as more than that by now. I’m not exactly sure how to label this thing between us. But it feels like… more.

Alba tries to keep speaking, but she’s barely able to get the words out. Tears are streaming down her pale face and she’s having a hard time catching her breath. As she melts down, I’m there, wrapping her in my arms.

“I’ve got you, Tiny Tiger. I’ve got you,” I say, trying to comfort her as I hold her tight.“You’re just too hard on yourself, babe.”

Within seconds, Alba is already squirming out of the hug and wiping at her wet eyes. “I need to get dressed,” she murmurs.

“Let me help you, Alba.”

She shakes her head. “I’m going to be late.”

“Alba, slow down.”

She tries to hustle toward the bathroom door, but only makes it two steps before she gets dizzy, wobbles, and nearly falls.

I dart forward, catching her. “That’s it. You’re not working that job anymore.” I clutch her possessively against my chest, refusing to let her go.

I’m putting my fucking foot down.

“Excuse the fuck out of me?” she whisper-yells, but it doesn’t hold much heat considering I’m still holding her upright. “Nothing is wrong with working as a maid. It’s honest work, and I need the paycheck.”

“It is, and I respect it one hundred percent, Alba.” I hiss back.

Then I pause, gently taming her hair behind her ears.

“But I grew up watching my mother work herself to the bone to make ends meet. I still remember how burnt out she was all the time. I remember watching her push forward, even though she was exhausted, and I remember just feeling so damn helpless that I couldn’t fix things for her.

I don’t want Jagger feeling like that, especially when I have the financial resources to make your life easier. Let me do this for you. For my son. ”

“I can’t take your money, Easton.” She shakes her head.

“I owe eight years of child support. I think a judge would agree that you can take my money,” I say, gritting my words through my teeth.

She stomps a foot. “Fine. Helping him is one thing. But you’re not paying my bills.”

“Doesn’t Jagger use electricity? Water? Internet?” I quirk an eyebrow at her.

“Ugh! Can you quit being so annoying?”

“Can you quit with your control freak-ness?”

Alba grimaces. “Control freak-ness is not a thing.”

“You’ve made it a thing.”

Because, let’s face it. That’s what it is. Alba Anderson is a fucking control freak. That’s why she’s carried the weight of the world on her shoulders for eight long years instead of just tracking me down and demanding that I take responsibility for the son I didn’t know I had.

Well, that shit ends today. We’re in this together whether she likes it or not.

“Now, stop. Please. I need you to let go of your bossiness and learn to trust others to step up and do their part. Let me do my part, Alba.”

“I don’t…I just…I…” She exhales, her fight losing steam.

“It may be hard for you to understand why I can’t accept your help.

You’re a multi-millionaire, while I’m barely scraping by, after all.

You probably think I’m just being stubborn for the heck of it.

But here’s the thing I need you to understand.

” Her voice shakes with vulnerability. “Over the past few years, I’ve been abandoned by every single person I was depending on—my father, my sister, hell, even Christopher—”

“I’m nothing like Christopher,” I spit out defensively.

She nods reluctantly. “You’ve already proven that, Easton. You’ve proven to me that you want to take care of your son—”

“And you .” I touch her cheek. “I want to take care of you.”

Her teeth gnaw on her bottom lip. “That’s sort of my point. You want to take care of me now. But what happens if you ever change your mind?”

I want to fight her. I want to tell her that I’d never turn my back on her. But instead of fighting, I just listen. Because I can tell that her deepest, darkest fears want to be heard.

“I’ve learned that a woman who lays her financial security in the hands of someone else is essentially playing Russian roulette.

One unfortunate pull of the trigger, and my life could blow up right in front of me.

” She swallows thickly. “That’s a very vulnerable position to be in.

And I can’t let that happen to me again.

I can’t take the risk. Especially with Jagger and my mom depending on me. ”

I wait until she’s done talking, until her words have been reduced to nothing but a series of shallow panting sounds.

Then I speak. “Look, Jagger needs you to be healthy and happy and ready to fight his battles whenever they pop up. You can’t do that if you’re running on empty.

I’d never take your power away from you, Alba.

I’d never expect you to give up your independence and blindly put all your faith in me.

I’m not trying to take over your life. But just let me be your support. Let me do my part, yeah?”

After a long assessing moment, Alba gives me a slow nod.

“Thank you. You won’t regret this,” I say, utterly relieved.

I’m overwhelmed by the need to envelop her in my arms. So, I do just that, pulling her even tighter against my chest and pressing my lips to her forehead.

“I want you to always feel comfortable asking me for what you need. Regardless of how strong you are and how hard you’re willing to fight for yourself, I will always keep you and Jagger safe. I promise you that.”

She sniffles. “I want to believe you.”

My shoulders drop on a sigh. That’s good enough for now.

I kiss the top of Alba’s head again. “Good. Now back to bed.”

She sends me a doubtful look over her shoulder as she exits the bathroom. But she doesn’t continue to argue with me as she forgets about work and climbs back into bed with Jagger.

After I warm up some canned soup for her, the three of us squeeze into her bed and spend the day watching TV, doing nothing.

Funny thing is—just being here for them when they need me feels like the most important thing I’ve ever done.