Page 27 of Love Me Reckless

“Of course I can.” I cross my fingers that there’s no conflict with my new work schedule. Supposedly we work four ten-hour shifts but I’m not sure if that’s consecutive or what. I’ll figure it out. Because no way am I missing this.

“Oh, that’s good news,” she says, sounding relieved. “I’ll take care of everything. All you have to do is show up.”

And keep my hands off you. “Okay.”

“Safe travels,” she says.

We hang up and I release a heavy sigh. I’ve spent these past weeks thinking about her, reliving her bright smile and the mischievous flash in her green eyes and watching her daydream. I’ve daydreamed a little bit, too—of giving her that knockout kiss she’s yearning for. And then, everything that should come after.

Including her. Preferably while screaming my name.

My thoughts go round and round. She belongs to someone else. She’s also—in a roundabout but very real way—my new boss’s daughter. Then we have reason number three to stay away from Kirilee St. Claire—she’s rich and I’m not, refined where I’m… not.

Though I get the feeling she could use a dose of wild.

What would it be like to see her spark catch fire?

The ferry engines rumble to life and the boat pulls away from the dock. We pick up speed, making the deck vibrate beneath my boots. Gripping the cold railing, I watch the shoreline, soft green foothills, and hazy McKenzie Mountains fade from sight.

Unexpected emotions form a lump in my throat. It’s not that I haven’t imagined leaving Alaska. I just always pictured doing it after making peace with my past. Instead, it’s along for the ride, like a shadow no amount of sunshine can banish. Is that why it took me a year to work up the nerve, even though Zach’s stories of Finn River and the promise of a good job should have been enough?

A part of me feels like shit for not trying to find Shel before I left. But the selfish part of me is celebrating the clean break, the opportunity to kick start my life on my own terms.

Later that night, I’m dozing on a lounge chair under the solarium heat lamps with the cool breeze in my hair when the crinkling of a food wrapper wakes me with a start. After a quick scan of my possessions—my duffel bag, my shoes, my grocery bag, all here—a round of giggles draws my attention to the lounge chair a few feet from me.

A girl of about six with wild curls is sitting up in her sleeping bag, the top gathered around her shoulders, munching goldfish crackers from a foil pouch, her headlamp beam trained on the book she’s reading. Next to her, two adults are sacked out in sleeping bags. The little girl must sense me because she glances over. She’s just stuffed her mouth with crackers, and her eyes flash with mischief. She giggles again and chews fast.

To my surprise, she offers me the bag.

With my eyes on her, I reach in and pluck a few crackers,then pop them into my mouth. “What are you reading?” I keep my voice low so I don’t wake the other passengers.

She flashes me the cover. The solarium heat lamps create a soft red glow, giving me just enough light to make out the image of a cartoon girl in a black mask and costume and the title:Princess in Black.

“She’s a princess, huh?” I ask as she pulls the bag of crackers back into her cocoon.

“She battles monsters and saves goats.” The girl is missing a tooth, giving her speech an adorable lisp.

“And it’s funny?”

She giggles again.

“Josie, go to sleep,” one of the lumps next to her says. The man inside the sleeping bag rolls on the lounge chair and sits up on his elbow, his eyes bleary. “Sorry,” he says to me, then gently slips the headlamp off Josie’s head and rolls up the bag of crackers.

With a dramatic sigh, Josie slips down into her sleeping bag.

In the morning, after I return from a quick shower and grabbing coffee from the cafeteria, a copy of “Princess in Black” is on my lounge chair. The family next to me is gone, or at least they’ve packed up their things.

I settle onto my chair, my sleeping bag draped over my lap for warmth in the icy breeze, and flip through the glossy pages. Princess Magnolia and her adventures tell a cute story. I should share it with Kirilee, maybe it would give her hope. Or would it just piss her off?

The ferry enters a narrow fjord, the steep forested mountains rising high on either side. I sip my coffee and squint into the brisk wind.

Zach warned me not to get close to Kirilee. He’s right, yet I already feel protective of her, and that’s not something I can turn off.

Especially when I seem to be the only one putting herfirst.

With the generoussalary package from Finn River Ranch Maintenance Department, I could afford a place of my own, but I’ve lived alone once in my life and those aren’t fond memories. After four years of group homes and foster family life, I thought I’d relish the solitude, but I was wrong. I’ve never felt so lonely, and it led me to some dark places. So when my new boss mentioned that a couple of guys I’d be working with had a vacancy in a house they share, I changed my mind about the dorm option and jumped on that idea instead.

When I pull up to the house after my two-day drive from the Alaska Ferry terminal in Bellingham, the double garage is open, and a guy is working on some kind of project in the driveway. He’s got curly blond hair and is so tanned his bare shoulders are the color of molasses. I park at the curb and take a quick scan of the house. Though older, like most of the homes on this street, it looks well cared for. Not much of a yard, but the grass is tidy, and a giant pine tree in the middle makes up for it. I’m fucking delighted.

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