Reckless (Thoughtless, #3)

Zipping up my carry-on bag, I walked across my new bedroom to find Kellan. We’d moved into a new spacious home a couple weeks earlier. It was a lot nicer than any home I’d lived in before. It was almost too much for just the two of us, but Kellan insisted that when our family expanded, we’d eventually need the room. And the location couldn’t be beat. Griffin had wanted us to get a place in Medina, right next door to Bill Gates if we could, but Kellan and I had opted to get out of the city instead. Traveling north, we’d found a private, secluded home on eleven acres. Our nearest neighbor was a sweet older couple who dropped by with pie when they saw our moving van driving past. Living in the countryside, our life was going to be a lot more reclusive than it had been in Seattle, but considering how crazy things became whenever we were out in public, a mellow home life with few distractions was exactly what we both wanted.

Retrieving our things from Kellan’s old house had been a process. My friends had helped, and had braved their way through the throngs of near-constant visitors to get inside the home and pack it up for us. It was a little embarrassing having other people box up all of our belongings, but Kellan and I lived pretty simply, and there really hadn’t been all that much stuff to begin with at the old house. And we still lived pretty simply. Our new home seemed a little empty with the scant amount of furniture we owned. I was going to have to get some help filling it up. Good thing Jenny and Denny were extremely good at shopping and decorating.

I did what I could to make our house feel like a home, though. There were personal touches throughout each room that made me feel like we were right where we belonged. As I walked through our spacious bedroom, I had to smile at the familiarity—Kellan’s comfortable chair was tucked in a corner next to a floor lamp, creating a perfect space for reading. The Ramones poster I’d given him was framed and held a place of honor on the wall beside the D-Bags’ Bumbershoot poster. Kellan’s cowboy hat from the strip club was hanging off of a peg on the footboard of our new bed. And copies of the D-Bags’ CD were resting near copies of my book. It already felt like we’d been living here for years.

Walking into the bathroom, I glanced over at the jetted tub large enough to sleep in, the ginormous two-person shower, and the expansive granite countertops. I could live just in this bathroom and be happy. Dressed in a white long-sleeved shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, Kellan was leaning on the counter, staring at himself in the mirror. He was taking long deep breaths in and out. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he was nervous.

“We need to go. You okay?”

Kellan glanced my way, flashing me a perfectly carefree smile. “Yep. I’m ready.”

Hands on my hips, I clarified my question. “I asked if you were okay.”

His smile turning seductive, Kellan turned and wrapped his arms around my waist. “I just made love to a beautiful, successful author. I’m fantastic.”

A bright grin exploded onto my face. Then my mind shifted back to Kellan’s big news. “And your band is up for Best New Artist tomorrow, so we better hop on that plane and get your butt to the Grammys.”

The nominations had been announced at the end of November, a week after our wedding, but Kellan was still in denial about the whole thing. He just couldn’t wrap his head around how fast everything was happening. I couldn’t either sometimes, but I wasn’t as surprised as he was. Kellan was the entire package—looks, talent, charisma. He had that “it” factor that caught people’s attention. The Grammys were only the beginning.

Kellan sighed, his smile relaxing. “Do I really have to go to this thing?”

Laughing at his reluctance to accept praise, even from his peers, I nodded. “You’re scheduled to perform, so yeah, you kind of have to be there.”

Kellan closed his eyes. “Why on earth did I agree to do that?”

I gave him a soft kiss as I squeezed him tight. “Because you can’t resist a stage, and the world is a better place because of that fact.”

Kellan opened one eye in a dry expression of disbelief. Laughing, I kissed him again. “Off you go to rule the world, rock star.”

Releasing me, Kellan started heading for our bedroom. Over his shoulder he told me, “Well, it’s not like we’re actually going to win anyway. Our album hasn’t been out long enough.”

I kept my mouth shut, but I knew that fact didn’t matter in this case. I had no doubt in my mind that Kellan was going to win.

When we were in the limo being driven to Staples Center for the ceremony, I reconsidered my excitement about being there. Aside from the industrial matting at my hospital-room wedding, I’d never walked a red carpet before in my life, and the thought of stepping out in front of all of those photographers made my stomach feel like a tiny person was in there frothing up some egg whites for a lemon meringue pie. I was possibly going to be sick. Looking at Kellan beside me, he surprisingly looked the exact same way. I was sure he wasn’t nervous about his entrance, though—it was more his impending win that was bothering him. Kellan didn’t mind the spotlight, but he wasn’t the best at accepting kudos. He’d even refused to write a speech, saying there wasn’t a chance he was winning so why bother.

To calm my nerves I pulled out my phone and sent a quick message. Kellan glanced down at my screen. Looking like he also wanted a distraction, he asked, “What are you doing?”

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