Page 125 of Reckless
“I’ve never seen such a bright flower,” she blinks. “They’re orange and red andeverywhere.”
I can’t seem to tear my eyes from her. “So? What do you think?”
She glances back at me, her smile worrisome. “I think you’re slowing me down.”
With the words barely out of her mouth, she turns and boundstoward the field. I manage to start running before the chain has the chance to try to yank me off my feet. I watch her spread out her arms to embrace the wind as her boots find the edge of the field.
I haven’t seen her this carefree since the day I followed her out into the rain, plucking a forget-me-not to tuck behind her ear. Seeing her enjoy life makes surviving mine suddenly worth it.
“At least try to keep up!” she calls, poppies crowding her legs with each step. “I think you’re out of shape, Azer!”
“Is that so?” I laugh, gaining on her.
She realizes too late what is happening.
A squeal slips from her lips when I cut in front of her, bending to catch her legs and throw the rest of her body over my uninjured shoulder. I bite my tongue at the sting that still shoots down my body, but the sound of her laugh is healing, capable of a man forgetting his own name, let alone his pain.
“What are you doing?” she laughs against my back, arms flailing.
I spin us around. “Showing you just how out of shape I am.”
She giggles like a girl who hasn’t had to grieve her father and best friend. Like a girl who hasn’t struggled to survive, stolen when she was starving. Like a girl who isn’t chained to a man she’s meant to hate.
There is such beauty in resilience, in the ability to laugh despite it all.
“All right,” she pants, “you made your point. You can put me down now.”
“But I’m giving you the best view of the flowers,” I say with a smile she can’t see.
Her voice is slightly muffled. “No, you’re dragging my headthroughthe flowers.”
I laugh, crouching as I wrap an arm around her back and flip herover my shoulder. Lowering her slowly to the ground, I lay her down so flowers circle her as she smiles up at me.
The setting sun drips golden rays across her face, blue eyes burning bright against the vibrant red of each poppy. It’s hard to believe that something so beautiful would willingly stare at the likes of me.
I feel undeserving of her gaze, of the way her eyes roam over my face. I shake my head, still staring down at her. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” she asks softly.
“Like I’m worthy of being seen.”
Her lashes flutter at my words. She swallows, lifting a hand to cup my face. My eyes drift closed at the feel of her palm against my skin, the privilege to be touched by her.
“Dance with me?” she whispers.
My heart skips a beat at the timid question.
I open my eyes to find hers fixed on my face, giving me that look I don’t deserve. “For however long you want, darling.”
I help her to her feet before guiding her arms around my neck. My hands find her hips, holding tight as I lift her feet atop mine. She gasps in surprise before a smile splits her face, fingers curling in my hair.
I sway with her body pressed against mine. My hands roam up her back, unused to the feel of it without her heavy curtain of hair. I tilt my head toward hers, taking in the mess of silver falling to her shoulders.
I tuck a wavy piece behind her ear, running my fingers down the short length of it. “You don’t regret it?”
She shakes her head, her smile sad. “No.”
“Good,” I murmur. “Because I’ve always had a thing for short hair.”
