Page 63 of Reckless Devotion

Mia snorts into her chest, her long glossy brunette locks falling over her face to hide her laughter—which her shaking shoulders give away. You can see the steady descent the man makes from thinking himself cleverly suggestive, to realizinghe’s bitten off more than he can chew. His cheeks turn ruddy and he swiftly spins around and rushes off.

“How do you like them apples?” Chloe yells after him, not caring that the whole store now stares at us. She whips back around, shaking her head in disbelief, and then inspiration hits and she spins again, all but shaking her fist at his rapidly retreating back. “Or bananas, if you will!”

A hysterical giggle skips out of my mouth, and I slap a hand over it. Mia looks up with tears in her eyes, her face bright red from laughter. “Chloe’s favorite pastime is terrorizing men, if you didn’t realize.”

“It’s true,” Chloe admits, the smallest smile toying at her lips as she turns back to the salad section and plucks out a package of romaine lettuce. “The other day, a man sat right next to me on a deserted subway carriage, so I made direct eye contact and farted as loudly as I could.”

“Chloe!” Mia wipes at her eyes, the cart abandoned and no pretense of shopping to be had. “Stop, I’ve had three kids, I’m going to pee myself.”

“Funnily enough, he got up and left me alone after that.” Chloe grins, slinging the lettuce into the cart.

The laugh I’ve been holding bursts through my hand, and we all descend into hysterical giggles, Mia hunched over with her legs tightly crossed as she tries not to urinate in the vegetable aisle.

Chapter 24

CHASE

“Why are you so annoying?” Mason growls at me, one arm anchoring a clingy Macey to his chest. She just woke from a nap and she’s doing that thing young kids do when they suddenly forget how to smile and want to hide in their parents’ necks.

I switch on the blender full of pineapple, condensed milk, and ice cubes, the loud grinding filling the open-plan kitchen.

“What was that? I can’t hear you!” I yell over the noise.

“I said, why are you being so annoying?” Mason raises his voice above the blender, capping a hand over his daughter’s ear.

I point at the blender and then at my ear, mouthing apologetically, “Sorry!”

Mason rolls his eyes, scooping up the baby monitor from the island countertop and stalking away. He’s got an eternal stick shoved right up his ass, and I swear it’s getting worse theolder he gets. He’s so soft and kind with Mia, or his kids, but for some reason I’m deeply filed away in the category of hate. I force down the boiling dark thing that threatens to surface every time he’s an ass to me for no reason.

Letting the blender die, I slice open the limes sitting on the chopping block. “You want some of this before I add rum, Pepto?”

Sunny’s sun-kissed face bobs up from the book she’s engrossed in on the other side of the island, her feet swinging from the tall breakfast stool and a damp towel wrapped around herself. “What is it?” She wrinkles her nose at the slushy concoction as I pop the top and squeeze in the lime.

“Brazilian lemonade. It’s good, you should have some.” Perhaps I should take some to Mom…sansrum, too. Maybe check if she ate any of the sandwich I took her at lunch time. I can’t deny that I’m becoming increasingly concerned about her mood swings. One second, she is at least in some small way the larger-than-life charismatic woman she used to be, and then it all disappears in a wisp of smoke, leaving me wondering if I imagined it.

“Can I try a bitwiththe rum?” Sunny’s spine straightens a little, a small smile toying with her mouth.

I chuckle, securing the lid back down. “So the boss can dangle me from a tree by my ankles when she gets back? No chance.”

On second thought, it might be worth it just to see that chestnut fury wage war in her pointed glare as she spits fire at me. I can’t stop thinking about her, remembering her soft skin and the way she parted her legs for me without hesitation. Those breathy whimpers and eager kisses all sending my mind hurtling down a one-way track to a place where there is a big bed and no clothes.

I switch the blender back on, more to drown my own thoughts out than anything, and watch as Sunny rolls her eyes and drops her head back to the book in her lap. She’s a good kid, sensitive, funny, and a crap-ton more confident than I was at her age. I like her more than I was expecting to. Only because teenagers typically tend to be painful and dumb—I know I was.

“Honey, we’re home!”

I look up to see the girls arrive, their arms laden with black string bags full of groceries. Chloe has managed to find a tiny sombrero, which clings to the side of her head with a piece of elastic.

“It’s not cultural appropriation, it’s culturalappreciation.”She wedges her finger in my direction at my raised brows.

I flip off the blender as Pepper appears at her side, red in the face and huffing out breath due to the three bags on each arm.

“How many people are we feeding?” I lift the bags from her, trying very hard to ignore the sharp zing of electricity that shoots up my arm when our fingers brush.

“Uh, thanks,” she mutters a little sheepishly, her eyes landing on Sunny as unmistakable relief glazes her face. “Is Terrence okay?”

“Getting washed up for dinner.” I jerk my head softly up toward the ceiling.

“Good lord,” Mia mutters as she ditches her bags on the island counter. “I think we may have overdone it.”