Page 97 of Recklessly, Wildly Yours

“You’re giving me an out, Ethan, that I don’t deserve.”

“Okay, here’s what I think. I’ve told you before that I don’t fuck about with fairness in relationships. I think that at different times in our lives, we’ll need varying degrees of support, of love, of grace. We’re gonna have misunderstandings and hard times. That’s a given. What we don’t know yet is who will need more grace in which difficulty, or who will need more support, or love. There are no rules about that shit as far as I’m concerned. We fly by the seat of our pants on all that. The only rule I will ever follow is to love you with everything inside of me, even in the middle of a misunderstanding. Even when you’re frustrating the hell out of me. Even when you’re picking a fight with me that doesn’t need to be picked. Even when you’re throwing so much fucking slang my way I can’t follow a word of what you’re saying. I will love you and adore you, and I will always fight for you. The rest will take care of itself if I follow that one rule.”

Silence greets me again, but this time it’s closely followed by crying. “I love you, Ethan Black,” she gets out in between sobs. “And you went and learned about flags.” More sobbing. “And you did all that texting for me even though you hate texting.” The sobs increase as she splutters, “You found ILY.” After that, it’s a good thing I’ve arrived at the studio because she can’t stop crying.

“Babe, where’s Leigh?” I get out of the car and load my arms up with the things I bought her.

She answers my question but I can’t make out a single word she says and I wonder if these tears are in response to what I said to her or from her hormones.

“Okay, I’m here,” I say, “so I’m going to hang up and find my way inside.”

“Okay.”

I call Leigh and hear Madeline crying in the background while I find out where to go to be let in. Ten minutes later, I walk into Madeline’s dressing room and every muscle in my body relaxes when I see her. How that can happen, I have no idea, but it always does when I’m with her.

She’s sitting in the makeup chair while a woman paints her face. Her hair is hanging in loose waves over her shoulders. And she’s wearing torn jeans with a white T-shirt. She’s fucking beautiful and I need every other fucker in this room to get out.

I eye Leigh and while this chick is great at everything she does, she’s exceptional at reading my mind when it comes to Madeline. She takes one look at me and is instantly rounding everyone up and herding them out of the room.

She’s the last one to leave, and as she walks through the door, I say, “Thank you.”

“You owe me, Hottie, and I will be collecting.”

“Whatever you want, it’s yours.” My attention has already shifted to Madeline who has moved off her stool and is looking at me like I’m a fucking king. If I don’t get to see another sunrise it won’t matter because what she’s giving me in this moment is the only thing a man needs to die happy.

My arms are around her before the door clicks closed and then I’m lifting a hand to slide into her hair so I can pull her mouth to mine. When she gives me what I want, I vow to myself to do whatever it takes to never lose this, to never lose her.

Her body sways into mine and she moans into our kiss, and fuck.

When we draw apart, I keep her close and study her face, taking in the puffiness around her eyes. Sweeping my thumb over her cheek lightly, I say, “I can’t promise I won’t ever make you cry again, but I’m gonna do my damnedest not to.”

She grips my shirt tightly and breathes, “Stop talking right now, Black.”

“That’s gonna make having a conversation with you real hard.”

“We don’t have a lot of time to talk now. I only have fifteen minutes until I have to do this interview, which means we’ve got about five minutes before I have to finish doing hair and makeup.”

“Your hair is perfect.”

“Yes, to you, but not for TV.”

I run my eyes down her body, stopping on the white T-shirt that says, “Girls Can Do Anything.” “We’re gonna need that shirt in every size.”

She frowns. “Do you mean for when I put on weight while I’m pregnant?”

“No, I mean for our daughter.”

“We might have a son.”

“This time, yeah.”

She blinks. Grips my shirt harder. “How many children do you want?”

“However many you wanna give me.”

“Ethan.” My name whispers out of her as her eyes shine and I think I’ve just failed at my pledge to not make her cry.

The door to the room opens and Judy strides in with an air of command. Meeting my gaze, she says, “Madeline needs to finish getting ready.”

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