Page 55 of Recklessly in Love

So we spend the rest of the evening watching old-school Jim Carrey movies and polishing off the wine and chocolate. And I know I gave her shit, but it’s the exact combination of nostalgia, comfort, and easy companionship that I needed.

* * *

The next day, I wake up alone, Mia having ducked out at likely an ungodly hour to head into the bakery. I’m grateful because now that I’m rested and calm, I have the headspace to reflect on yesterday’s events.

My conclusion? I’m a fucking moron.

I love Greg. I want to be with him. And yes, I’ll be giving something up to do that. But Mia is right; I could gain so much more. If anyone is worth the risk, it’s my mountain man. Even through what could’ve been a horrible, relationship-ending misunderstanding, he was nothing but apologetic, concerned, and considerate. And the man knows how to destroy my pussy in the best way possible. A combination I thought impossible, yet here we are.

Could this all blow up in my face? Sure. But anything worth having is also worth the risk. And if anyone is worth that risk, Greg is.

Funny how a little distance and perspective can make you see through all of your bullshit.

Mia was also right that when I know what I want, I go after it. So I get my ass out of bed, throw on some tight jeans and a blouse that makes my small tits look luscious, and head out to drop in on Greg at the community center.

Though the late January midday temperature is a nipple-freezing cold — not literally thanks to a thick jacket — I’m once again bowled over by how gorgeous this place is. A light snow must’ve fallen earlier this morning; everything glitters as the sun reflects off the fast-melting crystals. I drive slowly because Greg’s nickname for me is apt: I’m a city girl through and through, and driving in snow and ice is not my favorite.

Still, I’m nearly vibrating with anticipation and excitement when I get there, though the building is quiet as I enter. I peek my head in Greg’s partially closed office door to find him at his desk, hunched over some paperwork. His chin is leaned on one strong forearm, a wayward curl gracing his forehead. His strong jaw is clenched, and I wonder if it’s the paperwork or the tough conversation from yesterday evening.

“Hey,” I say softly.

His eyes snap up, surprise evident on his face. He scans me from head to toe, and I suppress a shiver under his gaze. “Joanie. Hey. I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

I step inside, closing the door behind me. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

“For you? Always,” he says, gesturing for me to sit. I perch on the edge of the chair opposite his desk. “How was your night?”

I huff a small laugh. “Better than I expected it to be. Mia and I had a girls’ night. Wine, chocolate, and Jim Carrey. It was great, actually. You?”

He pushes out a breath. “Honestly? Rough.”

I grimace. “I’m sorry.”

He waves a hand dismissively. “It’s not your fault. It wasn’t just what went down between us, anyway. This thing with my dad … I guess it’s affecting me more than I thought it would,” he admits.

My mouth forms a small “O” of surprise. I don’t know why I hadn’t remembered that he had gone to Seattle in the first place to talk to his cousin about the lawsuit. And I didn’t even ask. But then, the sudden reappearance of his ex forcing me to face my feelings was a little distracting.

“God, Greg, I forgot. Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.

He leans forward, steepling his hands under his nose. “Maybe later. What was it that you wanted to talk about?”

“Oh,” I say, uncharacteristically sheepish. “Yeah. That.” I take a subtle deep breath. “If you still want to, I’d like to keep seeing you. I feared committing to this would mean giving up parts of myself that I considered vital. But … you’re more vital to me.” I shake my head, annoyed that I still can’t seem to say those three words. I look up into his eyes. “This is just new territory for me. But I want to be here. With you.”

He leans forward, his blue eyes earnest, and opens his mouth to respond, but he’s interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. We both turn toward it to see an older gentleman looking in expectantly. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I’m here for my training appointment,” he says.

Greg rises. “Of course, Bob, I’ll be right out.”

I stand up and step toward the door. “I’m sorry, I should’ve realized you’d be busy. I’ll go.”

Greg gently pulls me toward him as if waiting for me to protest. When I don’t, he holds my hands and looks down into my eyes. “I am, but we can continue this later. If you want.”

“This evening?” I offer.

“I’d like that.”

“All right. Meet me at the B&B at six. I’ll make dinner.”

His eyebrows jump. “I thought you didn’t cook.”

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