Reckless Kiss

“Oh!” Her voice rushes out on a breath, and my stomach tightens.

She’s beautiful in a tight navy tee and jeans that hug her cute little ass. Her curls are in a low ponytail over one shoulder, and when our eyes meet, I can’t help smiling. She blinks away fast, and my smile fades.

“Hello, Angela.” Winnie’s voice is formal. “This is my nephew Deacon. Deacon, this is the young woman I was telling you about.”

Angel’s family might hate me, but Winnie has no power over my decisions. I’m about to set things straight when Angel reaches forward quickly and shakes my hand.

“How do you do, Mr. Clarke?” She gives me a pointed look, and I stop.

“Deacon’s last name is Dring. He’s my late brother’s son.”

“My mistake.” Angel blinks away to my aunt. “I won’t be late tonight. I’d like to be home by ten-thirty.”

“Of course. You’ve been working very hard.” Winnie speaks to her like she’s the maid, and I don’t like it. “I was just telling Deacon what a wonderful job you’re doing. I think he agrees with me… Deacon? What’s wrong, darling?”

My eyes are on Angel avoiding my gaze, and I shake my head, returning to my aunt. “I have to go.” Leaning forward, I kiss Winnie’s cheek then turn to my girl. “Nice meeting you, Angela.”

Angel does a brief nod before heading into the room where she works.

We’re not doing this.

I’m not backing down from being together because things have gotten twisted.

Still, I’ll wait.

She’ll be home at ten thirty, and I’ll be ready for her explanation.

The backyard lights stream through the open window of Angel’s bedroom. I left my bike in the same place across the street as last week, and I’m sitting in the shadows waiting for her to walk through the door.

Before coming here, I rode through the night out to the tower where we used to meet. I thought about the story of the man who shot his wife and her lover here. As a child, I thought such stories were made up to scare us or to make places seem more interesting.

Now I’m not so sure.

Taking a slight detour, I rode out across my grandfather’s land, or the start of it. Our family owns hundreds of miles of forest and grasslands in northeast Texas, leading up to Oklahoma. Was it always ours?

Straddling my bike, I sat at the top of a small hill overlooking the property and shot a quick text to Richland. Need you to help me research the ownership history of some land.

He didn’t take long to reply. In El Paso for another week, but I’ll see what I can do. What land?

Mine.

The metallic taste of rain was on my tongue as I sped back towards Lakeside Estates. Now, sitting in Angel’s empty room, I listen to the thunder rolling in, making the night even darker. How will she get home? Does she ride the bus at this hour? Anger is rising in my chest when I feel my phone vibrate again.

Sounds like a story. It’s Rich.

You have no idea. I hit send just as her door cracks open, and the light from the hall filters into the room.

She doesn’t enter, standing in the doorway looking at me sitting in the beige wingback chair across from her.

“You’re h

ere.” Her voice is soft.

Mine is hard. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

We study each other a moment before she steps into the room and shuts the door behind her. “Are you mad at me?”

“I haven’t decided.” My foot is crossed over my knee and thunder rolls low in the sky. “Why did you pretend like you didn’t know me?”