Page 32 of Love Me Reckless

I jump in my truck and wait for Kirilee to pull in behind me. At my house two blocks over, I park on the curb, and Kirilee parks across the street.

“One sec,” I say to her after she’s parked, then dash inside, but the house is empty. My roommates’ cars are parked in the driveway, so I know they’re home. I step out on the back deck and spot them at the same time I hear their muted conversation from the far side of the yard. They’re bouldering on the artificial climbing wall Brody built, the colorful plastic holds bolted to the back of the garage like blobs of colorful bubble gum against the gray wood.

“You guys cool if we get one of those little library boxes in front of our house?”

“Sure,” Carson says from above me.

“What kind of books?” Brody asks, perched on a tiny hold a few feet offthe ground.

“I’m sure she’d take requests,” I say.

“She?” Carson glances over his shoulder.

“No kissing books,” Brody says with a shake of his head. “My sisters would heckle me until the end of time.”

“What if a cute girl shows up looking for a romance book?” Carson says in a strained voice as he reaches for a hold just out of range. “Could be worth some heckling.”

I leave them to it and hurry back outside. Kirilee is standing with her back to her driver’s door, her arms crossed and her gaze fixed on the ground.

“I didn’t even think to ask that woman,” she says. “I just assumed?—”

I tilt my head so I can catch her eye. “Just ‘cause she got grumpy doesn’t mean your idea isn’t great.”

She gives me a soft smile. “How do you always know the right thing to say?”

I give her a wink. “Just reading your cues, princess.”

She rolls her eyes, but they’re brighter than they were a second ago. “Is this where you live?” She gazes up at the house.

“Yep.”

“It’s nice.”

“It’s missing something, though,” I say with a grin.

She arches an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

I reach for her hand and tug her to the back of her car. “A homemade little library full of extra steamy kissing books.”

Chapter Nine

SAWYER

“Here?”I ask, tapping the tip of the shovel to the grass.

“A little to the left,” Kirilee says, squinting. She’s wearing sneakers, wide-leg jeans that hug her curves like a dream, and an ivory-colored shirt with flowers that’s tied at her waist. Her long hair is pulled into a high ponytail that cascades down the middle of her back in silky waves. In short, she looks good enough to throw over my shoulder and haul to my cave.

I shift to the left a step. “Here?”

“Yes, but you aren’t digging the hole for me.”

“You’ve gotta supervise.” I sink the shovel through the thick layer of grass to the soil beneath. “It’s a very important job.”

She gives me a little smirk.

I sink the shovel again and drop the dirt in the pile next to it. “Did you design that yourself?” I nod at the mini house with the two shelves and the glass door in the back of her open hatchback.

She wrinkles her nose in a grimace. “It was a kit.”

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