Page 87 of Recklessly, Wildly Yours

He finishes with his camera and gives me his full attention. “You’re gonna have to elaborate, Miller.”

“Have you ever known Gage to stare at a woman?”

“No.” He frowns again. “Why?”

“Okay, so Amelia came in and was all sunshine-y and warm. She’s a Heather. Gage’s eyeballs are glued to her from the second he sees her. When he approaches her, she’s no longer a Heather and treats him like he’s one big red flag. I seriously hope you can give me the scoop on their story.”

“Right, so if I knew what the fuck you just said, I could maybe help you out, but since I’m confused as to whether or not there are one or two women in this story, and about how a human can be a flag, you’re gonna have to hit up someone else in the family for this scoop.”

I grin because how can I not. Then, I pull his face down to mine so I can have his lips for a few seconds.

After I let him go, he looks confused by everything that’s just occurred and mutters, “One of these days, women will make sense to me, but I don’t think that’s going to be this day.”

I move into him and rest a hand on his hip. “Don’t ever change, Black. You’re too much fun exactly how you are. Now, I do have another question for you.”

“Jesus, is it one I’ll understand?”

“How the heck did I end up with the only Black brother who can’t sing?”

Amusement fills his eyes and then I’ve got a possessive, demanding hand around my waist, pulling me tightly against him. His mouth comes to my ear and his voice is so fucking hot when he growls, “Did I, or did I not, tell you that your smart mouth would get you into trouble one day?”

I grip his shirt, my core feeling every word he just uttered. “Will that day be today?” I’m leaving to catch a flight to London soon but we could be quick. God knows Gage has enough floors in this condo that we could find a private spot far away from everyone.

He looks at me, his eyes heated. “Since you’ve got places to be, and since my niece has begged for another photo shoot, it won’t be today.” His voice still holds sexy gravel. “But next week when I see you will be another story.”

My phone sounds with a text, interrupting us. I try to ignore it, but when two more come in straight away, I know I can’t. I’ve got a team working in the background, ensuring my week in London goes off without a hitch. I can’t ignore them.

“Shit,” I murmur.

“Yeah,” Ethan agrees roughly. I know he’s feeling my impending five-day absence as much as I am. “Okay”—he lifts his chin at me—“go handle your business, Miller, and I’ll go handle a six-year-old.”

“Kiss me first.”

His eyes crinkle and then I’ve got his hand in my hair and he’s giving me what I want.

I turn back to him as I walk away and say, “One last question, baby. Do you even know what the word ‘hella’ means? You rapped it so good while shaking your pom poms with the girls, but is hella actually in the Ethan-Black dictionary?”

He holds his grin on the inside but I see it. “You should be hella concerned about your ass being so red next week that you won’t be able to sit on it.”

I stand rooted to the spot for way longer than I should, and we both just watch each other. Communicating so much without saying a word. When I finally turn from him and go in search of a quiet spot to check my texts, I already miss him.

The messages are all from Leigh who has also moved to New York. She packed herself up and moved here last week, and she’s flying to London with me today while the rest of my team will meet us there. I lock myself in one of Gage’s bathrooms and read her texts.

Leigh: We need to delay this entire trip.

Leigh: I just got my period.

Leigh: I hate flying with my period.

This girl never fails to make me smile.

Me: Me too. I’ll leave now and go home and collect my period kit for you.

Leigh: I have a period kit I’m packing.

Me: Right, but what’s in it because mine might have more things.

Leigh: Pads in all various absorbencies, tampons in the same, period underwear, wipes, pain relief, heating pad, essential oils, big granny undies like the pair I gave you, dark chocolate, herbal tea, a face mask, foot mask, hand sanitizer, stain remover wipes, small trash bags, five romance novels to choose from, a deck of positive affirmations, a “Do Not Disturb” sign for the restrooms that I am not afraid to use, fuzzy socks that say “Don’t Talk To Me”, my inflatable uterus punching bag, and my copy of “How To Be A Functional Adult When Your Uterus Is Trying To Escape.”

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