Page 3 of Recklessly, Wildly Yours

Her eyes flare a fraction and she nods. The fact there’s no hesitation in that nod propels me into action.

I gently but firmly take hold of her arm, and usher her to the car. There’s no uncertainty in her steps, which reassures me that she really does want my help.

I help settle her in the car, noting the frantic edge to her movements as she secures her seatbelt. “Are you running to your wedding or from it?” I figure we may be able to drop her somewhere on our way.

Her breath catches as she looks at me. “From it.” She shifts her gaze to the window, scanning the busy street while the car restarts the slow crawl to the church where Callan is getting married. She then quickly inspects the back seat of the car like she’s looking for something. When she spots my backpack, she asks, “Do you have a jacket?” Her question feels urgent.

“No.” I frown. “Are you cold?” She shouldn’t be. It’s a warm eighty degrees today.

She ignores my question, her fingers shaking as she removes her earrings. “What about a T-shirt?”

I watch as she drops her earrings into her purse before running her fingers through her long hair, quickly tousling the perfect waves like she’s trying to mess them up. “No T-shirt I’m afraid. I do have cash though if you want to go buy yourself some clothes.”

“A hat maybe?” Her voice wavers.

“I’m sure there’s a store that sells hats close by,” I offer, trying to calm her nerves.

“No, do you have one in your backpack?”

I lean in close toward her and whisper conspiratorially, “Are you trying to disguise yourself so your fiancé doesn’t find you?” I’m joking, still trying to help her shift her anxiousness, but the look in her eyes tells me I’m not wrong. “Fuck, okay.” I grab my backpack and pass her my cap. “Are you in danger? Has he hurt you? Do you need—”

“No, nothing like that.” She secures my well-worn baseball cap in place and hell if it doesn’t look good on her. “Let’s just say that being unrecognizable would make my life easier right now.”

“Right. Here then, put these on.” I retrieve my sunglasses and hand them to her.

She smiles as she takes them. It’s soft, tentative, more a delicate curve of her lips than a real smile but there’s a subtle easing of her tension in it. A hint that her frayed nerves have found a temporary respite. “Thank you,” she says with quiet sincerity.

I return her smile. “That dress really is going to be a problem though. I’m not sure why you thought it a good idea to stage an escape in such an outfit.”

She regards me for a long beat. Her shoulders relax and her eyes flicker with amusement. “Believe me, it seemed like a better plan in my head.”

“Well, you certainly made an impression on New York.”

She peers out of the car again when it comes to a stop at the lights. “Not really the kind of impression I ever hope for.” Then, her eyes widen as she spots something through the window. “Shit,” she mutters before diving face first into my lap and burying herself there like her life depends on it.

In the space between her face meeting my crotch and my brain catching up to this, I share a moment with my driver in the rearview mirror. George gives me a look. What the fuck have we walked into here? I shoot him back: Just go with me here.

I glance down at the blonde. “Do we have a problem?”

She doesn’t lift her head. Instead, her answer is muffled as she talks into my lap. “Can you see those two guys in suits across the street?”

I locate the men she’s referencing. Two brick walls of muscle surveying the crowd like they’re looking for someone. “Tell me you’re not supposed to be marrying into the mafia today.”

“That’s not a bad comparison.” She lifts her head a little to glance up at me. “What are they doing?”

I take another look. “One is on his phone. The other is searching for you, I presume.”

“Right, but what exactly is he doing?”

“Well, right now he’s reaching his hand into his trouser pocket—”

“No, is he coming this way?”

I shake my head. “They’re both still on the sidewalk.”

She exhales her relief.

“Who are they?” I ask, intrigued as fuck over what’s happening. So much so that I’m ignoring my phone that’s vibrating in my pocket with what I guess are texts from my brothers. It’s not every day a man’s sitting in traffic minding his own business when a beautiful bride crashes into his life.

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