Dirty, Reckless Love (Boys of Jackson Harbor 3)

XOXO,

Lexi

I’m in love with a man who tried to kill me. At least that’s what they tell me . . .

Six weeks ago, paramedics found me unconscious in my own home. Beaten. Bruised. Hardly breathing. When I woke up, I couldn’t remember the last three years or anything about my life in Jackson Harbor. They tell me my fiancé, Colton McKinley, is on the run for what he did to me. They tell me I’m safer if I stay away.

I don’t care if my memories ever come back. I want nothing to do with those missing years . . . until a sexy stranger with angry eyes shows up on my doorstep and demands I stop ignoring him.

Levi Jackson is my fiancé’s best friend, but seeing him sparks something inside me. As the truth unravels in my mind, I know they’re wrong about Colton. My own secrets are far more dangerous than the man I was engaged to.

I return to Jackson Harbor to search for answers and find myself running from a faceless boogeyman and seeking refuge in Levi’s arms. And in his bed.

; I can’t deny my feelings for Levi. But as the pile of lies between us grows, I realize that sometimes the truth can’t set us free. Sometimes, it’s the very thing that can destroy us.

Levi

February 20th

Two and a half years ago . . .

I prefer my parties loud, crowded, and a little dangerous—the kind where I can find a girl, a couple of shots, a dark corner, and fucking enjoy how good it is to be alive.

The biggest crowd at this party is currently gathered around the martini bar. The fake laughter and artificial kindness feel like poison in the air.

I’m only here because I’m expected to be. My family’s business, Jackson Brews, is sponsoring this fancy little fundraiser, and I’m doing my part to show my face.

“Hey there.” The greeting comes from a leggy brunette who’s leaning against the wall beside me.

I blink at her. I’m tucked into a back corner of this party for a reason—I needed a place to watch rather than participate—and I didn’t even see her walk up. At my kind of party, I keep tabs on the hottest chicks in the room. At my kind of party, I’d have already been watching every move of a girl like this. She’s a fox with her tight dress that’s cut low in the front and that cradles every curve, from her tiny waist to where it stops just above her knees. Her sultry smile is the cherry on top. The fact that I didn’t notice her before proves that the uptight idiots at this party are rotting my brain.

She’s mimicking my posture, leaning against the wall, a beer dangling from her fingertips. A beer. The other women here are drinking champagne or cosmopolitans. I like her already.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re prettier when you smile?” she asks.

“Did you just say I’m prettier when I smile?”

“Yep.” She laughs and tosses her hair. “It’s my new thing—stealing ridiculous pickup lines guys have used on me and unleashing them on unsuspecting men.”

I arch a brow. “And now you’re coming on to me by telling me I’m pretty?”

“In reality, I’m just entertaining myself.” She laughs, and the sound is so light and carefree it lifts some of the tension from my shoulders. “But now I wish I’d used a different line, because you kind of are pretty. Do you know how much women pay to have eyelashes like that?”

I grunt. “I can’t decide if that’s a compliment or an insult.”