Reckless (Mason Family 3)

Thank God.

“I can’t believe you’re going to be a nanny for a family in Hawaii,” Libby says. “I didn’t even know you liked kids.”

“Eh, I don’t. Not really.” I shrug under the blanket. “But it’s a favor to Mr. Kapowski to help his daughter. They’ll pay me, and it just happens to be in Hawaii. I can like kids for that.”

She laughs.

“You know,” I say, my body stilling, “I really think Mr. Kapowski knew things weren’t going to end well with Chuck.”

The mood changes in an instant. I can almost hear Libby get angry.

“Why didn’t you tell me what was happening with your landlord?” she asks.

“Because there was nothing to tell you, Lib. He was just an asshat and made things as terrible, as uncomfortable as he could. He never physically did anything.”

She pauses. “Until he …”

Her voice falls because she doesn’t want to say it.

But I will. “Until he insinuated that I could pay my increased rent with my vagina.”

My skin crawls as the blood beneath it boils. The scent of his breath—stale coffee and sardines—is forever imprinted in my mind.

Quietly gagging, I rip the blanket off me.

My brain takes the opportunity to do what I’ve been struggling hard not to do—replay the event of the last month. It comes at me in vivid shots of memory.

Chuck’s smarmy grin when I opened the door. The way he positioned his body so I couldn’t shut him out. His notice that the rent was increasing and my shock and horror at that fact, considering I was already overpaying for the opportunity to live in one of the dankest apartments in Columbus.

The way his eyes lit up. The scent of sardines. His words, “Then pay with your pussy, pretty lady,” followed by the sound of wood splitting as his fist slammed into the door to hold it open.

Shouting. Police sirens triggered by the neighbors. Me looking like the aggressor as I held a baseball bat, poised to swing.

I close my eyes and try to block it all out.

“Will anything happen to him?” Libby asks.

“They told me that they’ll watch him, but that it’s really a he said versus she said kind of thing. So what do you do? He didn’t touch me.” I scowl and open my eyes. “Lucky him.”

“Yeah, lucky him. He hasn’t seen this bestie pissed off.”

I can’t help but laugh at the idea of Libby’s sweet face angry enough to be forbidding.

“I’m out of that apartment now,” I say. “I’m away from Shawn and his new fiancée. I won’t accidentally run into them at the grocery store again.”

Despite the fact I’m happy to be free of Shawn too, my insides squirm at that memory. “Why are you always just standing around in my way, Jaxi? I should’ve left your ass with your mom.”

“Every door that closes has an equal and opposite door that opens,” Libby says. “Or … something like that.”

“I think that’s an old wives’ tale mixed with one of Newton’s laws.”

“Hey, it works.”

“It does indeed.” I get to my feet and stretch my arms overhead. “If you want me to do anything around here, let me know. I have time on my hands.”

“Just don’t touch my plants and don’t mess with Ted’s office. I know you wouldn’t anyway, but just keep the door shut. He’s so fussy about it.”

My spirits begin to sink. “I hope me being here doesn’t make Ted mad.”

“It doesn’t.” She sighs. “And if he does have a problem, it’s because he’s a jerk and really has nothing to do with you.”

“Don’t say that, Libby.”

“Why? If he has a problem with me helping a family member—and a friend, then that’s jerkish behavior, and I’m not going to make excuses for jerkish behavior.” She sucks in a breath. “I love him, and I respect his wishes. But this isn’t even a vacation that will screw with his day. You need a place to stay for a week, and he’s not even there. He can deal.”

My heart swells. I’m so grateful for her. Still, we both know that I’m going to go out of my way to make sure this doesn’t impact Ted—especially when their marriage seems to be stronger than ever.

I stretch again and walk over to the window. I slip my finger between the blinds and part them.

A security light over Libby’s garage glows bright, illuminating half of the yard between her house and Boone’s. His house looms in the shadows. The only light comes from a room on the front corner with a window facing me.

My breathing gets shallow as I watch a shadow move behind the curtain.

“I’ve avoided bringing it up,” Libby says, “but I think I warmed you up enough.”

I brace myself because I know where this is going.

“How in the heck did you break into Boone’s house and not mine?” she asks with a hearty laugh.