Page 74 of Love Me Reckless

Once behind the wheel, I start the engine so I can get us warm while Kirilee searches.

“There’s one in Baker City. One in Rose Lake. Ooh, three in Boise.”

“Do any of them have reviews?”

Her lips twist as she skims the information. “The one in Rose Lake has the best ones. But if we go to Boise, there’s three to choose from.”

Both cities require a bit of driving, but in opposite directions. It’s already late afternoon, so we won’t have time to visit both. At least not today.

“Let’s go to Rose Lake,” she says.

“You got it.” I check my mirror and pull onto the street.

Pinedale is about fifteen miles outside of Finn River and could be its ugly stepsister. From the layout, I’m guessing it was built for the railroad back in the day, with every other shop a tavern, and a diner made from a rail car paralleling the tracks. We pass a drive-through liquor store with a line of pickups waiting, a boxing gym, and several warehouses that have seen better days.

Why did Kirilee feel like she had to do this alone?

That ends now.

“Why did you call me?” she asks as I merge onto the freeway.

“My little library is getting low on inventory.”

“That’s great! I’ll bring you more books.” Her cheeks are turning rosy from the heat in the cab, and her shoulders are relaxed. She looks good in my truck.

Too good.

We chat about Christmas and our plans. I signed up for a ton of overtime because it’s serious money and I don’t have a lot of holiday obligations. By the sound of it, Kirilee is going to be busy with her family. Plus several Get Lit events that get her so excited it’s like having a jumping bean as a copilot.

Don’t the people in her life see this side of her? The thoughtful, passionate side?

I poked around online a little, hoping to spot some huge scandal brewing that would make her family realize Branch is a douche and keep her from marrying him, but I kept getting distracted by stories about Kirilee.

Like her charity work with Get Lit, a foundation she started herself, from scratch, during her senior year of high school. It was a final project for one of her classes but she kept it going. She spent a gap year touring rural Canada and parts of the U.S. revamping libraries. Establishing early childhood reading programs, toddler story times, summer programs for kids and teens, even connecting these libraries with publishers and grant money to upgrade their collections. She even did a month-long walk across Prince Edward Island just to raise awareness.

A month of walking just to get more books into kid’s hands.

Then she’s got a bunch of stories about her art, and how she donates the money she makes to the art department at the local elementary school.

But it’s not just these feats, it’s how beautifully she shows up for her friends. I’ve seen it in action. She cares for them with so much love.

Her family, too. Like worrying about her mom’s struggles when the source is a wedding Kirilee doesn’t want.

Has her family always treated her this way? Is this wedding the culmination of a life of grooming, of the many steps they’ve taken since she was a little girl?

However she got here, they are for sure expect her to keep living it.

Even though doing so will snuff out all of that light inside her.

How can they do that to her?

She asked me to imagine my life in ten years, but what about hers? What kind of robot will she be by then?

“Oh, there it is!” Kirilee points to across the street where ROSEWOOD TATTOO is written in bold lettering above a tiny shop.

I turn at the corner and park in front of a coffee shop that’s closed for the day. Dusk has turned the sky a thick indigo and the streets have a soft silver glow thanks to the street lamps.

“Ready?” I ask her.

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