Reckless (73 page)

Laughing, my mom patted my knee. “They all are the first time.”

Even though I was nowhere near giving birth, twenty minutes later I was stuffed into the Chevelle and Kellan raced me to the nearest hospital. Glancing at his speedometer, I firmly told him,
“Slow down. We have plenty of time.”

Kellan flicked me nervous glances. “Are you sure? How do you know? Maybe you’re just having a really mild labor. Maybe this is as bad as it will get for you.”

Amused, my mother started chuckling in the backseat. I did
not
find that comforting.

Hours later, I could have killed my husband, I could have killed my mother, and I could have killed the manufacturer of the mislabeled birth control pills. I was going to die, I was positive.
I’d never felt something so painful in all my life. But then, some angelic nurse in cloud-covered scrubs gave me drugs . . . and things were much, much better.

It was still horribly uncomfortable, and hard. I’d never really thought about how difficult the act of giving birth was. You would think, since it happens all the time, it would be a much
more seamless process. I mean, you don’t see cats and dogs screaming, grunting, and writhing in pain. I’ve watched videos of whales giving birth before, and I swear those creatures
didn’t even notice they were delivering. And let me tell you, even partially numb from the waist down, I noticed.

Holding my hand, Kellan helped me as best he could. I could tell he felt completely useless and wished he could do more. He’d probably offer to give birth for me if he could.
“You’re doing great, sweetheart, almost there.”

The doctor told me one more push should do it, and I nearly cried. I just wanted to be done. I hated this. I would rather be hit by another truck than ever do this again. Mom squeezed my other
hand. “You can do this,” she told me.

I knew I could too, and I gave it my all. The relief was nearly instant, and I knew I was done even before I heard the baby start to cry. Tears rolling down his cheeks, Kellan kissed my sweaty
head. “You’re amazing,” he whispered.

Closing my eyes, I managed a small, thankful smile.

The nurse’s perky voice stirred me from my stupor. “Congratulations! It’s a boy!”

I heard my mom start to cry as I flashed open my eyes and stared up at Kellan. A boy? We’d had a boy. Kellan’s gaze was fixed on the small bundle in the nurse’s arms. His
expression was a combination of awe and joy. “I have a son?” A shimmering tear fell off his cheek and landed on my shoulder.

No, I was wrong, I would do this a thousand more times to see that look on his face. Well, at least two or three more times.

The nurse nodded as she came toward me with my son. I was dying to see him, hold him, but I minutely shook my head at her and flicked a glance at Kellan. Understanding, she handed the baby to
him. Kellan had been through so much crap in his life, he deserved to be the first one to hold his child.

Making a sound that was both a laugh and a sob, Kellan stared into his son’s eyes. “Hey, little man,” he whispered. “I’m your dad, and I love you . . . so
much.” Voice quavering, he added, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

I was sobbing long before Kellan handed him to me.

Several months later, I was wading through a sea of pink and white balloons. They were all over my house. And I mean
all
over my house. Clumps of them were attached to
every lamp, vase, banister, doorknob, cabinet handle, and chair back. The ceiling was littered with them. So was the floor. People in the living room were having a blast, kicking them back and
forth. Hopefully nobody took a swipe while Gibson was near. My fifteen-month-old niece was in hog heaven, trying to collect as many squishy balloons in her arms as she could carry. Anna was
watching her like a hawk, making sure none of the balloons popped and scared her, or popped and became rubbery treats. That little girl still had oral-fixation issues. She would put anything in her
mouth.
Anything.
Anna had already told me about Gibson finding her sex-toy stash. She’d saved Gibson from a lifetime of needing therapy by mere seconds. They now kept their
assortment of adult toys in a locked box on the top shelf of their closet. And I’d give anything not to know that.

In my kitchen, a three-tiered cake was resting on the middle of the wide oak table. It was in the shape of a heart, and each layer was a different shade of pink. Even the plastic tablecloth was
pink. And the plates. And the silverware. Surrounding the cake were cookies and candies in various colors and styles, all of them with a heart theme. And little conversation hearts were spread over
the table as edible decorations. It looked like we were throwing a birthday party for cupid.

We weren’t. The party we were throwing was a conglomeration of congratulations. A banner taped above the sliding door leading to the wraparound porch out back announced all the
festivities:
Happy one year anniversary, Denny & Abby! Congratulations on publishing your second book, Kiera! Congratulations on your second album reaching #1, D-Bags! Happy
Valentine’s Day!

Abby had arranged the party. Not only was she a huge holiday nut, but she was also an impossibly organized multi-tasker. When she saw on opportunity to combine events, she jumped on it! The only
thing that was missing from the banner was the fact that my little man was five months old today. But that fact was really only significant to Kellan and me. Most people didn’t throw a
birthday party every month of someone’s life. But we celebrated the smallest milestones with our son.

It was lightly snowing outside, but that wasn’t stopping our group from having a barbeque. Evan was in front of our stainless steel grill in a fluffy jacket and a stocking cap, flipping
burgers and rotating the hotdogs. Matt was with him, his arms securely around Rachel, who looked like she was slowly freezing to death. As I watched other people come into the house to take a break
from the chill, ducking under the massive banner as they did, I felt someone standing beside me.

Turning my head, I smiled over at Denny. He was completely clean-shaven; it was the first time I’d seen him that way since college. Back then, he’d seemed so young with his baby face
and youthful smile. But he’d grown over the years, and now he looked like someone who knew exactly who he was and where he was going. The peaceful smile on his face told the world
My life
is good, and I’m content.
Seeing him look that way lifted my heart.

Pointing over to the table of holiday-inspired confections, I told him, “You really weren’t kidding about the holiday fetish, were you?”

Denny laughed as he looked my way. “No, I wasn’t. You and Kellan will have to come over for St. Patrick’s Day next month. You will not believe the dinner Abby serves.” He
twisted his lip. “Ever had green potatoes?”

I laughed at that remark and instantly pictured my pink table transformed into a green wonderland, full of foods that shouldn’t ever be green. Glancing at the ring on his finger as he
sipped his fruity pink punch, I told him, “Congratulations on your one year anniversary.”

He paused with the cup to his mouth. “Thank you.” After taking another drink, he told me, “I have some good news for you too. Like we talked about, I gave
Irresistible
to every publishing house I could. One of them called me yesterday. They’re impressed with how well the book has been doing, and they absolutely loved the story. They want to talk to you
about publishing it professionally.”

My eyes widened. A traditional book deal? Right now, my book was only available on the Internet. Having my title on bookshelves everywhere would be the culmination of all of my dreams. Amazed, I
told him, “Thank you for doing that. I’d love to talk to them.”

I was still reeling over the news when Abby came up to Denny. Seeing the look on my face, she asked him, “Did you tell her?” When he nodded, she turned to me. “Congratulations,
Kiera, we’re very excited for you. I wanted to change the banner but Denny told me it was too soon to announce anything.”

I smiled at her adorable accent. That was one of the perks for me when I hung out with Denny and his wife—two accents for the price of one. “Thank you. I’m still . . . taking
it all in.”

Abby nodded as she looped her arms through Denny’s. “Well, you deserve your success, you and Kellan both.” An impish smile crossed her lips and she added, “And
isn’t your congratulations cake gorgeous?”

“Definitely. It’s almost nicer than your wedding cake.” Abby lifted an eyebrow at me, and I had to laugh. Her wedding cake had been something straight out of a Martha Stewart
catalog. There had been seven layers to it. And a fountain. I’m not joking.

Denny laughed with me, but stopped when Abby pouted at him. Giving her an adoring smile, he murmured, “Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

She immediately perked back up and leaned forward to kiss him. Shaking my head at the lovebirds, I turned away to give them some privacy. From the room behind me, I heard a person speaking
through a microphone and cringed. Damn, someone had just turned on the karaoke machine. I’m not sure why I ever let Kellan convince me that we should get one. I’d only used it once,
when just the two of us had been home, and that had been mortifying. But it was pretty amazing when Kellan took over, so I wasn’t entirely disappointed with the purchase.

Excusing myself from Denny and Abby, I twisted around to head into the living room. Lightly kicking balloons out of my way, I came upon a sight that both made me laugh and warmed my heart.
Griffin, in all his attention-seeking glory, was standing in front of the fireplace with Kellan; Kellan was holding our little boy in a front-facing infant carrier. Adorable wasn’t a strong
enough word to describe him. There was just something about an attractive man holding a baby . . .

Our living room had a capacious, open layout with clumps of furniture spaced here and there to break the space up. I could easily see every person who was curiously watching the two D-Bags about
to perform. Anna, Gibson, and Kellan’s sister, Hailey, were among them. Much to the chagrin of Gavin, Hailey had decided to move out here after she’d finished college. Well, I suppose
Gavin wasn’t too upset about it; it just gave him yet another reason to come visit. In fact, last I saw, Gavin and Riley were in the band’s “practice room,” a soundproof
building that the boys used to work on new material. Riley was quickly becoming just as adept with the guitar as his older brother. He was also becoming just as impossibly attractive, a
heartbreaker in the making.

Clearing his throat, Griffin brought the microphone to his lips. “Ladies and gentleman, I want to thank you all for coming tonight to
The G and K Show
.” He licked his lips,
then air-kissed the crowd. “It’s our pleasure to entertain you.” He started suggestively thrusting his hips, and I slapped my hand over my eyes.

Anna, sitting on an ottoman in front of them, busted out laughing. Gibson was sitting on her lap, giggling. Wearing a frilly red dress, white tights, and the cutest pair of Mary Janes, the
adorable girl had her blond hair neatly pulled into symmetrical pigtails. Anna told me that Griffin had spent thirty minutes getting the pigtails to perfectly line up. When Gibson started clapping
at her daddy’s antics, everyone around started laughing.

Kellan, also laughing at Gibson, brought his microphone to his lips. “Can you just start the music so we can get this over with?”

Griffin frowned at Kellan, but pressed Play on the machine. When Debbie Gibson’s “Lost In Your Eyes” started playing, Kellan lowered the mike and stared at Griffin in
disbelief. “Are you kidding me? This is the song you wanted to sing?”

As my sister fell over backward she was laughing so hard, Griffin pointed at his daughter. “It’s Debbie
Gibson,
dude. Gibson. It’s for my daughter.”

Kellan sighed as he closed his eyes. “If we’re gonna do a duet, can we at least sing ‘Electric Youth’?”

Griffin made an obscene gesture then headed back to the machine to change the song selection. Behind his back, Kellan started cracking up. When Kellan held the microphone back up, a tiny hand
reached out to grab the cord. I smiled at our son, Ryder. Kellan had named him. He loved that the name was similar to his half brother’s. I loved that it sounded a bit rock ’n’
roll. The son of the lead singer of one of the hottest bands on earth should have an interesting name.

Ryder’s face was just at the edge of the carrier; he was chewing on the end of it like a dog gnawing on his toy. His little fist curled around the microphone cord in triumph and he gave it
a tug or two. Kellan smiled down at him and bounced a little on his feet. Those two were peas in a pod already. Ryder loved me without a doubt, but he was daddy’s boy through and through. And
he looked just like Kellan—thick light brown hair that stuck up no matter how hard I tried to keep it down, and deep, dark blue eyes that looked like the evening sky. Maybe I was a bit
biased, but everything about him was perfect—his cheeks, his nose, his toothless smile, the cute little freckle on the back of his neck. Everything.

The boys had a tour starting for their successful sophomore album this summer. Ryder and I were going to go with the boys, just to see how it went. If it was too hard touring with him, then we
would go home and work out something else out for future tours. Short visits, maybe. But Kellan and I were pretty easygoing, and Ryder was a dream baby, so I was expecting this tour to be just
fine. Keeping Ryder away from the public was my biggest concern. Kellan’s too. That’s why we had a team joining us—we’d bumped our bodyguards up to two, and we’d hired
a nanny. I didn’t really think we’d need the nanny, I was pretty on top of things, but Kellan thought the extra help would be worth it. “And besides,” he’d told me,
“with a nanny, we could have a night or two alone for . . . dates.” I was sold after that.

As “Electric Youth” started playing through the speakers, Jenny wrapped her arms around me. She had an engagement ring on her finger that twinkled in the living room lights. She and
Evan hadn’t been in any great hurry to move their relationship along, but he’d finally proposed to her last week. That left Matt and Rachel. Rumor was, Matt was going to propose to her
on the day the boys left for their next tour. Rumor also had it that Matt was sweating bullets about it. I was positive he had nothing to worry about; Rachel was going to say yes.