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Reckless: Chapter 47

Ethan

With a haughty flick of her wrist, Mallory Mathers shoves a lock of red hair over her shoulder. All the better to glare at me.

I glare back. “You need to lean back more. If you’re sitting up that high in the saddle, your ass is gonna go flying off that new filly of yours faster than you can blink.”

“Maybe we should call it a day.”

“It’s your dollar. You wanna quit twenty minutes early, be my guest.” I’m in a foul mood, and Mallory’s piss-poor attitude is gnawing on my last nerve. All I want to do is head into the house, hug my kids and kiss my girlfriend. Make sure they’re okay after last night. But no. I’m sweating my balls off while I deal with this spoiled princess.

Mallory’s eyes narrow like she’s mentally murdering me, and I force a smile. No sense in actually being murdered. “Cool off your horse. You know the routine. And put your saddle in the right place this time.”

Last week, she left it in the stall instead of in the tack room. Almost had a hemorrhage when I saw the damn thing. She’s off her rocker if she thinks I’m gonna clean up after her again.

It’s barely ten a.m., but the heat is unforgiving. Sweat barrels down me like I just hopped out of the shower. As soon as my client is gone, I can take a break. I’m gonna have to or I might pass out.

I glance at the clock on the back wall. Where the hell is Logan? He was supposed to be here hours ago.

Trudging toward the giant sink in the grooming stable, I swivel on the cold water and wash my face. The water is tepid at best, but I’ll take anything right now.

I’m wiping the salt out of my eyes when her voice makes me turn.

“I won’t be in next week since I’m headed to the Bahamas for a few days, but I’ll be back for the party.”

“What party?” I tilt my head. Surely, she can’t mean…

“Your son’s birthday.” She looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Allison called me about it yesterday. You really should give people more notice.”

Let me get this straight. My ex-wife invited my client to Cody’s birthday party? Before she even talked to me? What the fresh hell?

As soon as Mallory’s gone, I stomp toward the house, needing to sit down for this conversation I plan to have with Allison. She is out of her goddamn mind.

I’m kicking off my filthy boots and hopping on one foot when I catch a glimpse in the kitchen where all hell has broken loose.

Cody is covered in… butter? And Mila is sliding and twirling on the mess like a nutty ballerina. They’re both giggling uncontrollably.

Where’s Tori?

Stepping closer, I finally let out a sigh of relief when I spot her bent over—face down, ass up—reaching for something that must’ve rolled under the stove.

The corner of my mouth lifts. That is a beautiful ass.

A chuckle escapes me at the insanity in this kitchen. The kids spot me and run full-out, laughing and sliding toward me.

“Whoa, there.” Jesus, I sound like I’m talking to one of my horses.

They ignore me and go crashing into my legs. We end up in a buttery pile on the floor.

Holy crap, that hurt.

“I can explain!” Tori shouts as she shuffles toward us.

“Watch out.” From this angle, it’s easy to see the oil slick on the floor that my kids dragged along the wood.

It happens in slow motion, Tori wiping out. Arms windmilling. Legs flying out from under her. The yelp she cries before she hits the ground.

I feel helpless under a pile of sticky children. Shit.

“Babe, you okay?” I grunt as I slowly peel Mila and Cody off me.

Tori moans, slowly reaching around to rub her elbow, then her ass. Speaking of ass, mine hurts like the dickens. That floor is harder than it looks.

I’m limping toward her when the front door closes and my brother’s voice rings out. “Holy shit. What happened here?”

But it’s the gasp that follows that has me looking up. “Good lord, boy. I didn’t raise y’all in a barn.” My mother chuckles at her joke.

“GRANDMA!” my kids shout and scramble toward her, but I snag the backs of their t-shirts, stopping them in their buttery tracks.

“Nope. Bath time first. Then you two miscreants can hug your grandma.”

My mother looks tickled to find her brood in such a disarray. “Need some help?”

I blow out a breath and send up a prayer of thanks. “You have no idea.”


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