Page 81 of Recklessly, Wildly Yours

“I hope so too, Ingrid. And honestly”—I grin at her son—“how do these men survive in the world when they don’t know things such as meet-cutes and acronyms and slang?”

Ingrid laughs. “That’s why they need us, honey. To help them get through life.”

“I absolutely agree,” I say, enjoying her son’s full attention as he gives me a fun shake of his head.

Then, he looks at his dad. When he speaks this time, he’s more reserved. Far less relaxed than when he spoke to his mother. “Dad, Madeline.”

Edmund’s eyes have been glued to me since the moment Ethan introduced me to his mother. Not that I’ve been staring at him all that time, but much like Gage, his father has an intensity about him that can’t help but be sensed. “It’s good to meet you, Madeline.” He’s not as reserved as Ethan, but his tone and body language show he’s holding himself back. Watching. Waiting. Just like Gage. And like I told Ethan, I don’t blame him.

“You too, Edmund. Do you know what a meet-cute is?”

He blinks. Sits back a little. Appears surprised. He doesn’t smile but there’s a subtle easing of his expression. “I do not. I hope you’ll enlighten me.”

Ethan chuckles. “You and me both.”

Ingrid leans into her husband as she waits for me to share this information with her husband and son. I’m struck by the way Edmund’s body magnetizes to hers as she does this. Ethan has told me a lot about their marriage and I’m not sure I would have expected this display of affection.

“Okay, you two,” I say, playfully stern, “listen closely. A meet-cute is a cute, charming, or amusing first encounter between two people that leads to a romantic relationship. Like the first encounter that Ethan and I had.” I look at Edmund. “Has he told you about how we met?”

“He has not.”

With a quick smile at Ethan, I launch into a story that’s important for me to share with his dad because if I know anything about the way men interact, I don’t think Edmund would ever get this full story from his son, and I want him to know all of it.

I begin with a quick explanation of why I was running from the hotel that day, so he can understand why I couldn’t go through with my wedding. Then, I share how his son was the one person in the traffic that day who came to my rescue, and how he then cared for me.

“I know how it must have looked to you when Ethan arrived at Callan’s wedding with a runaway bride on his arm,” I say to both his parents, “but I want you to know that my actions on the day we met were out of character. I’m not flighty and I never break commitments like I did then. However, right now, sitting here with your son, I’m so glad I broke that commitment and I can’t be sorry about that.”

Ingrid’s the first to speak. “Thank you for sharing that with us, Madeline, and I want you to know there’s no judgment here. Like I told Ethan recently, the only people who know what goes on in a relationship are the people in it. I can see how happy my son is with you and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Thank you.” I think I’m going to really like Ethan’s mom.

Edmund is still watching and waiting. I can see that in him, but I also see respect in his eyes. “I appreciate your candor,” he says. And that’s all he says, but then, I probably didn’t expect more. I think he needs to watch and wait a while longer before he’ll give me more.

Ethan gets back to work and his brothers return to the table. I spend a fun afternoon with the Black family and we all get to know each other a little more. Ingrid comes to sit with me for a bit and we talk about my parents, my childhood, and how I got started in my career. She’s so different to what I imagined after learning about her from Ethan’s perspective, but then, I know it to be true that no two people have the same point of view on anything because we all carry different baggage in life that frames how we see things.

As Ethan guides me out of the hotel after the lunch, I say, “Gage said something odd to me today.”

He looks down at me. “Yeah?”

“He said that if he had to endure lies being posted about him on social media, he’d silence everyone like you are. What did he mean by that?”

Ethan stops walking, his gaze resting on me for the longest moment before he says, “He put me in touch with someone who digs into people’s lives. Finds the shit they’re trying to hide. We used that to get those assholes to take down those videos of us from Louisville. I also had Hayden hit them with lawsuits that’ll go nowhere but scare them a little, and rightfully fucking so. And we’ve done it with some other videos too.” At my wide eyes, he says with determination, “I won’t sit back and watch this shit, Miller. I get it that this is just how the world works now, and I’m not going after every video or story that’s posted about you, but fuck, everyone’s entitled to quiet enjoyment of their lives. If people get in your face while you’re off the clock and post nasty shit about that, you better believe I’ll go after it.”

I grip his jacket with both hands and pull him close. “You are absolutely the best man I know.” I’m so overwhelmed that he has done this for me that I can’t even figure out exactly what I want to say. All I come up with is, “I’m so glad I found myself a grandpa who refuses to just accept the way of the world now.”

His hand slides around my body to my ass. “At some point in this relationship, you’re gonna have to stop calling me grandpa. It’s fucking creepy when you think about it.”

“It’s entirely accurate, Black. I mean, you still haven’t figured out what that text of mine from yesterday meant.”

“Babe, give a man a break. I’m over here trying to wrap my head around secret message brackets, talking in capital letters, and asterisking words all over the damn place. Then you start talking about flag situations and it’s like my fucking mind explodes. Beige flags, red flags, green flags ... How a guy’s supposed to make sense of any of this shit is beyond me.”

“This conversation is fast becoming a beige flag situation, just FYI.”

“Great to know, and if I ever figure that flag shit out, that statement will make so much more sense to me.”

I let his jacket go. “Are you going to be a grumblebum all night or are you going to do something useful with that mouth of yours?”

He takes hold of my hand, very firmly. “I’m going to do something useful with my hands, and hopefully I’ll be able to wait until we get home to do that.” He runs his eyes over my body. “This dress has been fucking with my dick all afternoon.”

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