Three Reckless Words: A Grumpy Sunshine Romance (The Rory Brothers Book 3)
Three Reckless Words: Chapter 8

Sonofafuck.

Shit.

Rina? Rina here, right now?

Her timing couldn’t be worse.

Colt keeps looking at me, waiting for some answer, but the wires in my brain are too crossed to process this bullshit.

One second, I had Winnie in my arms, crying and begging for a favor and feeling too damn good. The next, my ex-wife shows up to hammer my coffin shut.

This day is cursed.

“Dad?” Colt asks when I don’t move.

“You guys are busy, that’s cool. I should be going,” Winnie says abruptly, taking another step away. “Enjoy the cake! We can talk later about anything else. I have your number, Archer.”

“Wait, hold up.” I massage my temples. “Colt, stay here. I need to speak with your mother for a minute. Winnie—”

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry for taking up your time,” she says, still retreating away from me.

She looks like a frightened deer, ready to flee, tucking her auburn hair behind her ear and not meeting my eyes.

That’s also my fault.

I shouldn’t have tried to comfort her. But when she said her tyrant father cut her off from her inheritance, it set off a bomb under my ribs.

Watching her desperation, seeing her cry—or at least, trying valiantly not to break—just made it worse.

What choice did I have?

Her dad is a royal piece of shit, Attorney General or not.

I had to step in, to give this vulnerable young woman some breathing space. The only thing she truly asked me for.

I saw the whole universe looking at me through her, asking for a favor, and I answered.

Now, since no good deed goes unpunished, I’ve got Rina on my doorstep, waiting to fuck with my head.

There’s nothing else I can bark at Winnie to make her stay, especially with Colt standing there, so I stride through the house to where Rina waits outside the front door.

It’s been several years since I last saw her face-to-face. One glimpse reminds me time is passing.

She looks healthier than the last time I saw her, her cheeks less gaunt and some wiry muscle running along her thin arms.

She still looks like a walking paint splatter. Bright-red pants and a dark-blue and white shirt that’s a couple sizes too big. There’s a scarf over her chestnut hair and oddly colored contacts in her eyes. Indigo-violet.

The kids would call this look Boho, I think. To me, it’s just modern hippie shit.

For Colt’s sake, I’m glad she looks like she’s in a better place, even if I’d love to snap my fingers and make her instantly vanish.

Sighing, I fold my arms and lean against the doorframe, praying Winnie doesn’t choose this moment to run out of the house. If she just gives me a few seconds, I’ll have Rina out of here.

“What do you want?” I demand.

“Hello to you, too, Arch. You’re as pleasant as ever, I see.” There are even more tattoos up Rina’s arm than I remember, all mystical-looking faces and symbols. I notice them as she rubs a hand up it. “Can we stop the glaring? Can’t a girl drop in and see her son?”

“You mean the son you walked out on a long time ago? That son?” Barely two sentences and I’m already fuming. I don’t give her time to respond. “Drop-ins aren’t welcome here. We live a busy life.”

Drop-ins also aren’t typical for her. At all.

Usually, she just takes Colt on her time off for vacations or the odd holiday every year or two, and that’s that.

She’d make a better aunt than a mother, the cheery, distant kind you only hang out with once a year before they disappear into the ether again.

I’ve been fine with this pattern because it’s predictable.

The last thing Colt needs at this stage in his life is a loose fucking cannon of a mother hanging around, becoming a bad influence. He’s at the age where he needs good people who really care about him. Stability. Order.

Undaunted, Rina purses her lips as she looks at me. The hole where her lip piercing used to be seems larger than ever.

“Who’s this?” She smiles wide enough to eat her face.

Her gaze flicks past me. I bite back a groan.

Of fucking course.

Of course, Winnie chooses this exact second to head out.

“Oh,” Rina says, stepping back to let Winnie pass. “Sorry, Archer. I didn’t realize I was interrupting time with your girlfriend.”

My girl—

What the fuck?

“Sorry, sorry!” Winnie hisses as she breezes past. “I really should be going. Archer, thanks again, and let me know what you think of the cheesecake.”

Disaster.

Rina tilts her head like the smuggest creature alive as she looks up at me, a thin smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “Interesting. Colt never mentioned her.”

“No need. She’s just—a friend. Also, since when does my private life concern you?”

My skin burns behind my beard.

Shit, why is this a thousand times more embarrassing than it has to be? Even if Winnie was my girlfriend, what does it matter?

Rina and I were done a decade ago.

She’s been out of my life for ages. She doesn’t get to have an opinion on what I do anymore, much less a say.

Doesn’t change the fact that this is goddamned miserable.

There’s a knowing look in her eyes. If I’m not careful, she’ll call me out for blushing like a kid at prom.

“Well, can I come in?” She doesn’t really ask, brushing past me like she owns the place.

Enough of this shit.

Snarling, I grab her arm. I’m about to push her the hell out of my house when Colt appears at the end of the foyer.

He just stands there, watching us intently.

For a second, he’s not thirteen, he’s five again.

And here I am, manhandling his mother’s arm like she’s a prowler barging in to raid the house.

“Dad?” he asks, his voice small. “Is everything okay?”

Rina lights up in a way I didn’t know she could.

Everything about her is brighter, airier—her eyes under those stupid contacts, her smile, the way she holds out her free arm to him.

“Oh, Colt! Baby!” she croons, beckoning him closer. “I came to see you, honey.”

Colt glances at me and after a second, I release her arm with a sigh that grates my throat.

Rina flings herself forward with her arms outstretched, waiting as he walks toward us. When he’s close enough, she folds him up in the world’s most awkward hug.

He’s almost taller than she is now, and he keeps looking at me over her shoulder for reassurance.

Yeah, this is weird, and not just because two of the three people standing here wish the other one never existed.

Rina’s always been an absentee mother. If it wasn’t for the fact that Colt deserves to have some kind of mom in his life, I would have cut her ass out years ago.

Her very presence rings alarm bells. She’s either decided to be more active in his life or she wants something.

Probably more cash to fund her wanderlust and endless art projects. It wouldn’t be the first time. It’s not alimony ordered by a court, more like fuck off money I send every few years as ex-wife repellent.

But Colt, he’s smiling at her now as she pulls back and pats his cheek affectionately.

“Holy crap, Colton, you’ve gotten so big,” she gushes, tears in her eyes. “When did that happen?”

When you weren’t around to see it. Obviously.

“I’m thirteen, Mom,” Colt says.

“I know that, baby. It’s just, well… it’s like you’re a new person every time I see you. I have to relearn how to hug you, that’s all.” Her smile fades, turning wistful now. I’ve never seen her like this. “Are you holding up okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Holding up? As if I’m not the reason he’s happy and healthy and mostly keeping out of trouble?

“Of course you are! You look great. Your dad looking after you okay? Helping you with schoolwork?” The audacity of her question makes me bristle, and she shoots me a quick, nervous glance before adding, “I’m sure he does.”

“Why are you here, Rina?” I bite off again. We’ve moved past the glaring stage to proper death stare. The front door is still hanging open and I’m happy for it to stay that way. The sooner she leaves, the better. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing’s ‘going on,’ Archer. I told you, I came to see Colt.” She wraps a protective arm around his shoulders, flashing me a pouty look.

What the hell ever.

If she wants to have this talk in front of our son, I can play ball.

I push past her to the great room. The white sofas are all gathered around the glass table and large doors that slide open to the patio. It’s the first time she’s been here since the place was remodeled, and her eyes are wide.

“Shit, Arch.” She laughs as she looks around. “Do you ever slow down and take a break from showing off?”

“I have good taste and watch your language.” I sit on the sofa, folding my legs.

“Dad. It’s not like I haven’t heard it before. You swear all the time.” Colt stops trailing Rina like a puppy and sits beside me.

“Doesn’t mean you need to hear it from your mom.” I know I’m being a flaming hypocritic here. I’ve slipped up and sworn in front of Colt often enough, but the fact that she’s here doing it uninvited pisses me off.

Rina touches a hand to her dark brunette hair, cut short now. It’s stylish, though lost in the dangling orange earrings that look like miniature dreamcatchers.

She’s always been a mix of things, a human tornado in the worst way.

Aside from being half the reason Colt exists, she’s the biggest mistake of my life.

She’s someone I figured out I don’t need around after enough grief. Especially now, when I’m dealing with whatever mess Winnie and her family are about to bring crashing down on my head.

“This is so formal,” Rina says after a moment. She taps her fingers against the white leather. She’s nervous, being here after so long, I realize.

That figures, seeing as she’s ghosted for so long.

What I really want to do is chew her up and spit her out like bad bread. Not to mention give her the hell she deserves for checking out of Colt’s life before I send her packing.

Preferably without a check or whatever she’s angling for now, but if it speeds this shit up, I’ll bribe her.

Only, with Colt sitting beside me, I remember we’re his parents. Rina’s his mother forever, no matter how much I regret our relationship.

“Okay,” I say, spreading my hands across my knees. “Are you really back in town for Colt, Ri?” The nickname falls off my lips accidentally.

I curse myself. Fucking bad habits.

After so long, you’d think they’d slough off like dead skin.

She blinks, maybe at the nickname, but recovers quickly. “Yes, I am. You don’t sound convinced.”

“Not the point,” I mutter, shaking my head. I inhale slowly. Here goes. “If you’re looking to spend time with your son, we can figure something out. As long as Colt agrees.”

Her eyes flick to Colton, who squirms uncomfortably.

“Course I want to, Mom,” he says. “That’s cool with you, right, Dad?”

“Sure, sure. I just need to know it in advance, and it needs to be planned. Can’t have anything disrupting your schoolwork.” I aim a sharp look at Rina. “Colt has a busy summer. Another accelerated class for college prep.”

“That’s my little genius,” Rina says quickly. She smiles, hands working on her lap, subtly stroking her fingers in this nervous tic she’s always had. “We can pull something together ahead of time. Most of my weekends are free.”

Colt smiles shyly.

I take a deep breath. This is what being a divorced parent really means. Letting your boy spend time with his deadbeat mom because it makes him happy.

“What are you up to now, hon? More chemistry?” Rina blinks happily.

“It’s just summer school, Mom,” he offers. “For math.”

“A calculus course through a local university,” I tell her. “If he completes the class with a C or better, he gets college credit. It’s Colt, so he’ll get it.”

As long as he isn’t distracted with any stupid goddamned drama you’ve towed here, I don’t add, though I’m thinking about it.

“Oh, hey, that’s awesome.” Rina gives me a startled look. I force a smile to reassure her it’s a good thing. “Nice one, kiddo! Guess you inherited your dad’s brains for numbers.”

I hate the way she sounds so surprised.

If she bothered reading one damn report card I email her every few months, she’d know exactly how gifted he is.

Colt glances at me mischievously. “Grandma says I’m smarter than Dad was.”

“That’s because I was part troublemaker. You’re not doing that,” I growl, ruffling his hair. “There was a time when my folks thought I’d never graduate.”

“Wasn’t Uncle Pat worse?”

“Uncle Pat was the youngest, so he had to make a choice between being the hardest working—which Uncle Dex had in the bag—or being the brat.” And obviously, he chose the easier route.

Until he wound up with an instant wife and kid, along with the scare of his life, I would’ve said he was destined to continue being a little punk forever.

It’s weird to think how we all wound up here.

Especially because when we were kids, we couldn’t stand each other. Now we’re co-owners of a company. Successful, as Rina pointed out.

She gives a small, unsure smile.

“Just let me know when you’re free, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

“Sure.” I stand, signaling this meeting is over, and thankfully she gets the hint. I guess I gave her enough of what she came for. She doesn’t argue as I lead her back to the front door and out.

I’m still bracing to be hit with a money request the second we’re alone.

“See ya soon, Colt,” she says brightly, giving him another hug. This one seems less awkward, but it still looks like neither of them know what to do with each other.

Colt is all lanky arms and legs she isn’t used to, so she pats his back with hesitant hands.

“See you soon, Mom.”

“Archer. Arch.” She swallows as she looks at me. “Thank you.”

I give her a curt nod, escorting her out, biting my tongue the whole way.

I don’t breathe again until she heads back to her Jeep, gets in it, and pulls away.

Goddamn.

This nightmare could’ve been a lot worse, all things considered.

I exhale slowly, trying to pull all expression from my face—mostly suspicion and frustration. It feels too easy.

Rina coming back like this must mean something’s up, and nothing good.

“Mom seems different,” Colt says as we both watch her drive away. The automatic gates close behind her.

“I guess.”

“Do you think she’s okay?”

“She’s fine, Colt. She came here for you, right?” I clap him on the back before heading back inside.

Never mind different.

For Rina, this was totally out of character, and that’s what gnaws at me.

I don’t know what’s coming, but it feels like another bucketload of chaos.

It turns out I don’t need to call a meeting to discuss Winnie’s situation.

Dexter is ready to fire full throttle with his starry-eyed St. Louis expansion plan. After Rina leaves and I get my head screwed back on, I head into the Higher Ends office.

We chose the Cardinal Conference Room at our headquarters in Lee’s Summit. With the traffic and everything else that’s happened today, I’m almost five minutes late.

My brothers beat me there, seated with their laptops open, ready to laugh at me. Dex already has the projector on when I walk in.

“You’re late. Is today the apocalypse?” Patton leans back as I shut the door behind me, tilting the chair off its wheels.

“Sit properly before you break your neck, dickhead.”

“You’re never late.”

Dex taps his pen against the large table. “He’s not wrong. What happened? Traffic?”

“I would’ve settled for a fender bender,” I say, grabbing the closest chair. “You really want to know, Rina dropped by.”

“Oh, shit.” Dex drops his pen. “Rina as in… Rina-Rina?”

“Rina as in my ex-wife from Satan’s Express Rina, yes.” I eye the screen, which shows a picture of a high-rise in what I’m guessing is St. Louis.

“Whoa.” Pat lets his chair hit the ground, leveling himself out. “Don’t think you’re getting away without talking about this, Bro. Rina? What the fuck?”

“Mom mentioned she was back in town,” Dexter says. It’s so unexpected, I stare at him. He wrinkles his nose. “Rina visited her yesterday, I guess. I heard about it this morning.”

“Mom?” My throat goes dry.

That suspicion I had earlier tastes like burning bile.

“Guess she wants something,” Patton says. “What did she ask you?”

“She wants more time with Colt.”

Dexter frowns. “No money? She’s not dying, is she?”

I snort, though the idea crossed my mind. Next time I talk to her, I need to do some fishing. See if I can replace out if she’s come down with a terminal illness or some shit.

“You guys need to talk, even if you’re on shitty terms,” Pat announces. “This book I read says it’s all about communication. You just need the right place and time—uh, maybe a mediator in your case.”

“Fucking hell, dude. Just because you’re happily married doesn’t make you a shrink.” I nod at the screen. “Any new info for us?”

“I’ve got some options out east, yes,” Dexter says. “But we were still talking about you.”

Damn them.

I drag a hand over my face.

Who knows if they’re trying to help out or if they’re just crapping on me for entertainment.

“Don’t you start too,” I growl.

“You were late over it, dude,” Patton reminds me. “Over Rina.”

Actually, the reason I was late wasn’t because I was thinking about Rina. Sure, her storming back into my life was annoying, but it’s Winnie who’s crashed my day.

Miss Sugarbee keeps crowding my head like a weed.

The way she looked at me, all dewy eyes and heat and longing, like she wanted to be in my arms. Maybe she wanted more, the same hunger I sensed back at Solitude, when I held her too long and pressed her too close for common sense.

And fuck, maybe I wanted more, if I’m being brutally honest.

For an insane minute, I forgot who the fuck I was.

I forgot who she was and what we were doing.

If there’s any silver lining to Hurricane Rina, it’s that. My ex-wife reminds me how much I’ve already paid for woman trouble.

But I promised Winnie I’d talk to my brothers about her plight, and here I am. I tap the table. “Let’s talk about St. Louis.”

After groaning his disappointment, Dex presents his replaceings.

He suggests working our next place into a thriving green zone for people in the city center. Renewable energy, plants and flowers in the building itself, a smoothie and juice bar like the one Salem suggested in our Kansas City property.

We’re eyeing a property outside an older part of the city, a concrete wasteland lacking a lot of parks and well-lit spaces.

It’s in line with the direction the city council leans, plus it’ll give us advertising you can’t buy.

I have to hand it to him—it’s not bad.

People love green plants and healthy amenities, now more than ever. Even if Junie had a hand in encouraging him to go this route, it could catch on.

Even Patton doesn’t object.

“It’s decent,” he admits, looking at the graph of projected revenue over a five-year period. “Not my style, but some people have no taste. If we can keep the branding, it’s workable.”

“You got The Cardinal in Kansas City. This one’s mine,” Dexter says pointedly. He turns to me. “What do you think, Arch?”

“Looks good, yeah.” I run my pen through my fingers, blinking several times at the screen.

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say? No ripping us a new asshole while you blow your stack over risks and why we should settle for safer growth?” Dexter blows a breath through his teeth. “Okay, man. What is going on?”

“There’s one secondary issue I wanted to bring up.” Now’s as good a time as ever, I guess, and I might as well go for it. “You know Solitude?”

Patton and Dexter trade glances.

“You mean the cabin?” Patton asks slowly. “Yes, we’re familiar.”

“It’s currently occupied and due to unforeseen circumstances, our current guest can’t pay for the full stay they booked.” I toy with how many details to give them, but my brothers are sharks. I can’t afford to give them any blood. “This guest has a very serious personal situation. I promised I’d see what I could do to extend their time. They’re an expert on bees and they’ve promised to help out in exchange.”

“Bees? Hold on, I’m not following.” Dex taps his pen loudly against the table like a drum. “Are you, Archer Rory, saying you want us to give this person a free stay?”

“Not free,” I correct. “Apparently, the bee boxes our landscaping crew installed turned up something interesting. They produce rare honey. Supposedly. It’s definitely purple, I’ve seen it myself. Sh—our guest knows how to extract the honey and says we can sell it. The stuff may get a decent price.”

“Decent? How decent? Like does this purple honey outshine a barrel of oil?” Patton taps a few keys on his laptop. “Oh,” he says, giving me a sly glance. “I get it now.”

“What?” Dexter pulls the laptop closer, takes a good, long look, and grins. “Oh, wow. It all makes sense now. It’s a woman.”

“Is she cute?” Patton asks. “Shit, I want to see her. She must be a knockout to turn Arch into Mr. Charity.”

“Fucking hell, guys, this isn’t about how cute she is. Knock it off.”

“So she is cute?”

I glower at Dexter. “It’s none of your damn business what she looks like.”

“Okay. So Rina’s back in town,” Patton muses. “How’s that going for you?”

“For fuck’s sake, guys.” I pinch my nose, wishing I could go back in time and start my own company. I could’ve taken the financial hit without ever speaking to these idiots. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Rina.”

“Doesn’t it, though?” Dexter’s grin makes me want to throw him off a cliff. “You’re telling me you’re not doing a fake-girlfriend thing to keep Rina off your back?”

“Hell no.” Not yet anyway. “That’s your territory.”

“Worked out pretty well in my experience. Five stars. Would gladly replace my wife again by pretending to date her first.”

“That’s not what you thought at the start of it,” I snarl, then stop myself. “Look, I barely know the girl. She just wound up in a dicey situation.”

“What kind of dicey? This better not have anything to do with mobsters or poisoned kids.” Patton turns to Dexter. “But hey, it turns out he’s got a heart. Who’d have thought? Christmas is saved.”

“Fuck you entirely,” I spit. “Look, this honey thing could be a potential gold mine. I did some digging. It’s very rare when it’s as neon-purple as this stuff and the markup on organic honey like this gets insane.”

They both stare at me like bored cats.

I’m not convincing either of them. Hell, I’m not sure I’m convincing myself.

It’s not like I’m doing this for the honey.

If Winnie hadn’t cried—if she hadn’t felt like heaven in my arms—maybe I wouldn’t have been so determined to help out, but that’s a strong maybe.

Hard truth is, there’s something about her.

The vulnerability, the way she flinches away from certain things like they sting, it makes me want to fix this girl.

A new emotion, I’ll admit.

I’m not the type of guy who walks around with a savior complex.

My brothers damn sure aren’t used to seeing it, either.

I don’t charge in and help people without good reason. Normally, I make the hard decisions in this business. I don’t flinch at the consequences.

Shit, what if it’s as simple as they say? The fact that she’s cute?

But how many attractive women have thrown themselves at my feet over the years? Winnie hasn’t even done that.

She hasn’t done anything to indicate she wouldn’t slap me silly if I tried to kiss her.

With her background in bloodthirsty politics, I’m just another rich guy. I don’t stand out like a demigod who draws gold diggers.

Frankly, I doubt she knows who or what I am beyond Higher Ends, considering she isn’t local. The Rory name means next to nothing in Springfield, let alone DC.

Except the way she looked at me earlier, when I comforted her…

Crap.

What the fuck am I getting myself into?

Patton tucks his hands behind his head again as he watches me, an unidentifiable expression on his face which can’t mean anything good.

“Archer, you lucky dog, here’s a bone. If Dex agrees, we won’t kick your little honey out if she doesn’t have anywhere else to stay. At least for a little while.”

“We can take the loss. Maybe write it off as charity. I’ll ask our CPA,” Dexter agrees. “Especially if it means that much to you.”

I don’t bother correcting him.

I just clamp my teeth together and don’t say a word.

Neither of these clowns will believe me. The more I fight back, the more they’ll think I’m already fucking her nightly.

“Let’s say a couple weeks for now,” I say, slipping back into business mode. “After that, we can discuss it again if it’s still applicable.”

Patton gives me a shit-eating grin. “You mean when you know her better.”

“Fuck you.” I roll my eyes.

Though, somehow, I have a feeling he’s right.

There’s no way to do this good deed without getting more tangled up with this woman and the crazy she brings in her wake.

A woman like Winnie Emberly doesn’t come streaking into your life like a comet without making an impact.

I just have to brace for catastrophe and hope the carnage isn’t permanent.