Page 75 of Beautifully Reckless

I suck in my lips, biting down to keep from laughing.

If there’s anyone on this Earth who can keep Cameron Musgrove in line, it’s his mother.

“Right, well now that that’s settled,” she forces a smile, regaining her composure and gesturing to me, “why don’t you show Abbey around? I’m sure she’s going to love it here.”

Whiplashed.

That’s the only way I can explain how I’m feeling right now.

I still don’t know if I’m truly welcome. His mum is being kind, but his sisters? Well, their eyes are still sharp when they fall on me.

I can’t blame them. I’m a stranger in their home. They don’t know me from a bar of soap, so it’s only natural to be wary of me.

As Ringo’s mum returns to the kitchen, his sisters leave the room, whispering something to him on their way past. I don’t hear it, and honestly, I’m glad. I already feel like such an intrusion.

“Come on, Angel. Let me show you around.” Ringo gestures to nowhere in particular, so I nod, quickly picking up my backpack, not wanting to leave it alone given the cash tucked away inside.

As Ringo shows me through his home, I don’t say much, my eyes and mind too transfixed on the towering man doing such a mundane, domesticated thing like giving me a tour of his house.

I would never have pictured him in a place like this. It’s so different from the rough, banged up filth of the Western. There’s so much pride in his expression as he shows me around, a lightness to the way he walks, his shoulders relaxed and at ease.

I chew on my lip, and my eyes fall to his as they move, explaining something about this house that I’m simply not hearing. Not when he’s such a distraction. This hulking man, covered in tattoos who rides a motorcycle that I can only compare to a steel road demon with how loud it is and how powerful it felt between my thighs.

Ohhhh. That sounded dirty, didn’t it?

I inwardly smirk.

As strange as this sounds, even though I feel out of place, I feel closer to the old Abbey than I have in years.

The old me, she had dreams. She had fun. She didn’t have many boyfriends, but that’s okay, she had Lexi, and together, they got into mischief.

This version of me that’s been dormant for a couple of years, is still alive, still has dreams, but has needs she never used to.

I would have shocked the old me with how fascinated I am by the contradiction walking beside me. The menacing brute wrapped in muscle, who dotes on his mum and probably feeds those cute ducks I spotted out on the pond.

The house is three storeys, and when we reach the top floor landing, I pause by the tall windows, gazing out over the peaceful pond.

The tranquility of this place doesn’t match Ringo’s energy at all, but maybe I only think that because I barely know him.

Maybe, this is where he planned on raising Hope. Maybe he would have married Kylie. Maybe he planned to quit the club and be a family man.

Whatever the reason, it’s a shame his ex was the way she was. She missed out on something truly beautiful by giving in to the drugs.

But what do I know?

All I know is a girl could get used to this.

Is it bad that I want this tour to hurry up and end?

I mean, the house is stunning. Don’t get me wrong. But being so close to Ringo again, after longing for him night after night as I tried to sleep on that lumpy couch at Leather and Lace… well, it has that ache returning tenfold. The same ache he helped me with at the Western.

“This is my room.” Ringo’s deep baritone snaps me out of my thoughts, and I turn to see him keying in a number on the keypad.

“You keep it locked?” I smirk and he nods, pressing his palm to the heavy timber door before pushing it open.

“Absolutely, I do. Can you imagine my sisters? They’d take over my space. Touch my shit. I don’t fucking think so.”

I burst out laughing, because that is the most brotherly thing I have ever heard.

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