Page 59 of Reckless

Hugging Mila, I ask her if she’s hungry, but all she does issniffle.

When Ethan finally turns and we make eye contact, I mouth, “I’m sosorry.”

God, I am. Sorry for not coming in the house last night when he suggested it. For not getting up earlier this morning. For opening my mouth aroundAllison.

Let’s not forget theunderwear.

Hot shame burns my skin as this morning replays on fast-forward through mymind.

Ethan gives me a tight-lipped shake of his head, and I’m not totally sure what it means, but I do know this family has been through too much this morning to worry about me. He might fire me as soon as he’s done with his cup of coffee, and that would hurt, but I’dunderstand.

Right now, though, nothing is more important than cheering up the little girl in my arms, so I swallow back the thick knot ofembarrassment.

“Mila, baby, how do you feel about Mickey Mouse pancakes? Someone recently reminded me that pancakes always make everything better. Think you might want to help me whip up a batch?” It takes everything in me to keep my voice light. To pretend I’m okay. To focus on her instead of my own bruisedpride.

She perks up in my arms and nods. “Yeah, I can help. Can I stir the batter? I like stirring thebatter.”

There’s my sweetgirl.

Ethan gives me a half-smile.

I’ll takeit.

26

Ethan

The morning is fucking awkward.Blue balls aside, thatis.

And while I’d love to pull Tori aside to apologize, she’s getting my daughter to smile for the first time since she got home from her mother’s, and I’d do almost anything to help Mila forget all the crap her mother screamed atme.

Tori’s sweet voice fills the kitchen as she ignores all the embarrassing shit that went down an hour ago and makes my daughter breakfast. As they’re serving it up, the front door opens, and Logan strolls in withCody.

Pulling up a bar stool next to me, he whispers, “Medusagone?”

I nod and sip my cold coffee before I reach for Cody. He’s a mess. Dried spaghetti sauce on his chin. Crusty God-knows-what on his clothes.Dinner from lastnight.

“Hey, stinker. Want somepancakes?”

My son claps and gnaws on his fist. I’ll take that as ayes.

“Tori, would you mind plating up something forCody?”

“Coming rightup.”

I’m a mess of frustration and anger, but watching Tori teach my daughter how to flip pancakes dials me down a notch, especially when Mila squeals with delight when she almost misses thepan.

My brother hangs around until we put the kids down for a nap. By then, I think I’ve figured out what I need todo.

When I reach Tori’s room, she’s sitting on the bed, her hair pulled up into a messybun.

I rap my knuckle on the door frame. “Got asecond?”

Her whole body tenses, but she looks up at me and nods. Without any makeup, it’s easier to see the shadows under hereyes.

You kept her up all night, asshole. And then slept out in the truck. Of course she’stired.

“May I?” I point to her bed. When she nods again, I sit next to her and rub a hand over my face. “Not sure where to start here except to thank you for cheering up Mila. You could probably tell she heard her mom and mearguing.”

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