Page 21 of Reckless

“Sorry,” he repeats and tries to straighten his mouth, but he can’t. Even when he hides it behind his hand, it’s obvious what he’s doing. “It could be fun.”

Driving across the mid-west in a one bedroomed RV with a rockstar could be fun? Is he nuts? How the hell am I supposed to sleep easy every night knowing he is under the same very small roof?

It’s not possible. I’ll lose my mind. And I could do something stupid.

Not that he wants to do something stupid. Or does he? He’s half smiling, and that only makes me think this is a bad idea even more.

“What if I come for a couple of weeks? I won’t get in the way.”

“Are you serious?”

“I won’t bother you. I’ll only take up a small corner of the RV, do some thinking, some writing. I can cook too. And clean.”

“I don’t need you to cook and clean,” I half laugh.

“I can drive, so you can get more work done, see more things on the way to Chicago.”

That sounds appealing, but I would have to teach him how to drive the RV and I’m not all that confident about his ability to drive my baby.

“How about we give it a few days and if I annoy you, you can kick me out?”

This is a bad idea. Stupid even. I must be out of my mind. Then I remember the man who showed up outside my RV this morning. The man they’re talking about in the papers, how his performances at shows were lackluster and chaotic.

That isn’t the guy sitting across from me. They’re labels people who don’t know him or understand what it is he’s going through have given him. I’m not even sure Jude knows what he’s going through.

He’s been more animated and smiled a lot when he’s around me. Don’t go getting a big head about it, it’s not because of me.

I grab the picnic basket and open it up, taking out the two beer bottles and sandwiches. It’s low calorie, low alcohol beer and Jude eyes it as I pop the top off mine on the side of the table. His lip tilts again at the move my sister’s college boyfriend taught me.

“Sue me. I left my utility knife in the RV.”

“That I’m not freaked out by that statement says everything about this partnership, Krista.”

“Partnership.”

I drink some beer as Jude knocks his cap off. He takes a few swallows and pulls a face.

“This is disgusting.”

My laughter fills the clearing as he pushes the bottle away. Jude grabs a sandwich instead and opens the packet. He passes it to me before taking the other one.

God, why am I even considering this? It’s dangerous. And not because I don’t know him. He doesn’t have a reputation for being a womanizer. If anything, he shies away from the public and focuses on his music.

Maybe it’s just me who feels this magnetic pull between us. Or maybe it was the shock of seeing a rockstar outside my RV in the middle of Montana. I’m a grown ass woman. Just because I have a handsome, damaged man travelling with me for a couple of weeks doesn’t mean I’m going to lose all of my senses and do something stupid.

Another glance at him has me inhaling. Whether or not he plays up to it, Jude Smallwood is an incredibly attractive man.

Who the hell am I kidding? If I do this, I won’t sleep for the next two weeks.

“What do you say?” he asks.

Although his voice is playful, there is genuine concern there too. It’s a lot to put on me, knowing what he’s going through.

What if I don’t see it as an inconvenience or something to worry about? What if I try to help? I’m not qualified to do anything meaningful, but what if I can make him see the lighter side of life?

It’s how I feel when I take this trip each year.

“I must be crazy,” I shake my head. “Two weeks.”

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