Home > Reckless Hands (Joey and Adora Duet #1)(7)

Reckless Hands (Joey and Adora Duet #1)(7)
Author: T.L. Smith

“No. Just tell me where and when, and I’ll make my own way there.” She nods before she leaves, shutting the door behind her.

I’m not sure this is a good idea, but I didn’t want to say no either.



She’s dressed in a hot pink dress that stops just above her knees and a pair of black heels. Her hair is styled pretty much the same way it was when I saw her earlier, but now she’s wearing pink lipstick. Her green eyes spot me as I move closer. I have on a pair of jeans, knee-high boots, and a cropped white shirt. My hair is down, and I even ran the straightener through it.

“You look beautiful,” she says, leaning in, her soft lips touching the side of my cheek before she pulls back.

“You do as well.”

Her cheeks flush, matching the color of her lips.

“Am I your first girl date?” I ask, my curiosity taking over.

She turns, walks to the restaurant door, and holds it open for me to enter. “You are. Does that bother you?”

“No, not at all. I usually don’t date. So firsts all around.”

“But I wasn’t your first woman, was I?” she asks, and her assumption is spot on.

“No, you are for sure not.” I laugh.

“Are you bisexual?” she asks, then shakes her head. “I mean, sorry, that was rude of me.” She quickly turns to the hostess and gives her name before we are escorted through to a table for two.

“I am, and you?”

“I like guys, but I like you more.”

“You don’t even know me,” I say, her interest in me after just one encounter makes my mind whirl.

“I get vibes, and your vibe is amazing. I like to be around you. It’s why I did what I did. I would have never done that in other situations.”

“What, randomly hook up?” I chuckle as we sit.

“Yes. The last woman I was with it was secret, we never dated nor went anywhere in public. We were on and off for years. We were best friends, which didn’t work out. I wish her well, but she wasn’t it. You are the only other woman I’ve been with in a long time.”

“I’ve been with many women and men,” I tell her honestly. “I haven’t done relationships.”

“I like that you said you haven’t done… that means you’re open to it.” She smiles, and I immediately feel a bit guilty. The waiter comes back right as I’m opening my mouth to elaborate. She orders a bottle of wine as he pours our water, and as soon as he leaves, I decide to put it all out there.

“I have to tell you something.” I put the menu down. “I’m getting married in a week.”

She lowers her menu, placing it gently in front of her, and looks at me in shock with those big green eyes.

“I…” She shakes her head. “I don’t understand. You don’t wear a ring.” Her gaze falls to my hand. “Why would you agree to go on a date with me if you’re getting married?” she asks in disbelief.

“Because it’s not my choice. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t marry him.”

“It’s your family?” she asks.

“Yes, you could say that.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She reaches across the table and touches my hand, giving it a squeeze. “I know the pressure of parents. Mine don’t believe in same-sex marriage. They ignore me when I tell them I like women, they do not approve. So I get it.”

“I have to look at dresses tomorrow.”

“I can come,” she suggests, surprising me.

“You want to come while I pick out a dress to marry someone else?”

She shrugs like it’s no big deal.

But it is.

“I mean, I’m not opposed if it means spending more time with you.”

“I’m not a good catch. I want you to know that before we go any further.”

“Is anyone?” She raises a brow, and I find myself smiling at her answer.

“I’m sure many people are. A beautiful woman like yourself could find a normal woman, not someone who is destined to marry a man she doesn’t like, let alone love.”

“I want to give it a try, don’t you?” She shrugs. “As I said, I’ve never met anyone like you before, and I like you. I like your attitude, the way you hold yourself, it’s comforting and welcoming.”

If only she knew about my demons.

The dinner goes well. She makes me laugh. I make her laugh. We bond over everything pink. She tells me about her French Bulldog named Beyoncé, which also makes me laugh. Who names their dog after a singer? I guess she does.

She tells me about her first love—a woman—who was also her best friend.

I tell her I’ve never been in love.

It’s not a lie.

She asks to kiss me at the end of the night as we walk to our cars, so I reach out and grab her by the hips and pull her to me.

She giggles.

It’s perfect.

Lips as soft as velvet touch mine, and it’s in that moment that I wonder if what I’m doing is right. So why, when I kiss her, does my brain go straight to a brooding, demanding, tattooed asshole?

I hate him.

“I want to invite you back to mine,” she whispers against my lips. “But I have work tomorrow. And I know if I do, we’ll be awake all night.” She giggles again.

How can I attract someone so… nice?

But then, there is Joey.

“I have to pack anyway,” I tell her.

She smiles and leans in and kisses my lips one more time, lingering as she does. “Tonight was quite perfect.” Her hands leave me and drop to her sides.

“It was. Not sure why I always say no if it’s meant to be like this.”

We stop at a car that’s red, sporty, and looks expensive.

“What do you do for work? Can’t believe I haven’t asked you that.” I shake my head, pushing my hair over my shoulder.

“I’m a lawyer,” she replies, smiling.

Wow! Okay. I did not expect that.

“I wanted to ask you something…” She opens her car door and places her purse on the seat. “Those men that were at your shop, the ones who walked in on us. Who are they?”

“One of them will soon be my husband.” I bite my lip as I wait for her reaction.

“Oh.” Her mouth forms an O as she nods. “I know who they are.”

“You do?” I ask, my eyes widening.

“I did some digging when I left the bookstore. They have quite the reputation.”

“They do,” I agree.

“Dangerous,” she adds, her eyes connecting with mine.

“Yep.” I slide my hands into the back pockets of my jeans.

“And you’re safe… being around them?”

Safe? Mmm… not sure how to answer that.

“Yep,” is all that leaves my mouth. I point to my car and tell her I’ll talk to her later.

She appears disappointed by my abrupt departure, but someone is standing by my car who looks awfully familiar.









There’s no way I was following her, but here she is. Standing in front of me, looking like sex on a damn stick. Her knee-high boots and tight-ass jeans fit her perfectly. Her tongue darts out, and she licks her lips, eyeing me for an explanation.

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