Page 129 of Love Me Reckless

When I’ve exhausted Kirilee and she’s slumped against my chest, her breaths heavy in sleep, I stare at the dark ceiling, unease creeping into my thoughts.

There won’t be any sleep for me tonight.

Chapter Thirty

SAWYER

Though I must nodoff for a few hours, by 4:00 a.m. I’m wide awake thanks to the swish of the giant sequoia branches against my window. The wind increases as I lay there cradling Kirilee, adding to my worries. Windy days on the mountain can be tough.

I beg the minutes to slow down so I don’t have to leave my bed and Kirilee’s warmth. At least I lined up a ride to work with Carson so she’ll have my truck to get around in today.

How do I warn her about Shel without coming off like an asshole?

I need to get him to drop his threats.

If I don’t, he’s going to ruin everything.

Kirilee stirs when I slip from the covers. I sit at her side and caress her silky hair from her brow, then lean down to kiss her shoulder. Her eyes open slowly, a look of yearning on her sleepy face.

“Stay,” she whispers, her melancholy tone cracking something open inside me.

“Have fun with your friends today.” I kiss her softly and force a smile.

She gazes up at me. “I’m glad your brother’s here.”

“He’s not staying,” I say, mostly for my own benefit.

“Could it be a start of something for you two?”

Not likely. “We’ll see.”

She frowns. “You’re worried about him.”

I stroke the smooth curve of her shoulder and lean down to kiss my favorite constellation of freckles. “Yeah. He’s… still struggling.”

“Can I help?”

Her kindness fills the spaces around my heart. I smile. “I’ll handle it, okay?”

Her eyes turn troubled, but I try to ease her worries with another kiss. Then I tear myself away and dress in my long underwear and work pants, my belt buckle clattering in the quiet room. Outside it’s still dark, but the swaying branches against my window create an illusion of dancing shadows that sends goosebumps down my arms.

Downstairs on the couch, Sheldon is a silent lump under blankets. I’m both relieved he’s still here, and not.

Carson and Brody move silently in the dark kitchen making food and sipping coffee, slipping past each other in a dance we’ve perfected these last few months.

“Morning,” Carson whispers before diving into the fridge for last night’s leftovers.

The lump on the couch hasn’t moved, but I feel the need to glance in Sheldon’s direction to make sure. “Morning.”

“There’s sausages if you want some,” Brody says from the open fridge in between sips straight from his personal carton of milk. He conjures up a hearty belch.

“Dude,” Carson scolds, nodding at the lump on the couch.

Brody cringes and stuffs the milk back into place. “See you beauties at muster.”

He grabs his thermos and lunch and shuffles toward the garage.

Outside, the bitter cold clamps my throat and stings my eyes. It’s at least ten degrees colder than yesterday, which means opening the mountain is going to be a bear. A gust of wind whips through the pines, making the branches sway.

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