The Right Kind of Reckless
Maxwell Martinez
I’m in love with a woman I can’t have, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do to stop myself from falling.
The problem? Her brother’s my best friend.
I shouldn’t want her this much. Not when it goes against the bro code. Not when I’ve never been able to commit to a woman for longer than a night.
But one look into her eyes and I’m a mess for her. She’s my everything. And I have to walk away with nothing.
Love Words from Maxwell to Lia
Lee-Lee,
For the third time this week last night—in the middle of me trying to tell you about a new recipe I’d come up with for work—you fell asleep on me. I’m not mad. Not at all. In fact, the longer I laid there watching you, studying your gorgeous face, the way your lips twitched, and the way a tiny patch of hair fell over your nose when you breathed, the more I realized why it was happening. You’re exhausted, aren’t you? Physically and emotionally… Stressed with work, and running back and forth from Springfield to Carinthia every weekend for wedding planning with your mom… It’s all taking its toll.
(Don’t try to deny it either. Remember? I know you better than you know yourself.)
Which is why I’m writing you this letter. Why it’ll be the first thing you see tomorrow when you wake up.
You see, I don’t even know if you realize this or not, but tomorrow is not just Valentine’s Day. It’s also exactly 488 days since the day we first told each other I love you. Yeah, yeah, I’m a sucker keeping track of those days. But I can’t help myself. When it comes to you, I remember everything.
But the thing of it is, Lee-Lee, remembering that day also made me sad. Because those were the simple times in our lives, even if they felt like the scariest. I’m not saying every day with you isn’t phenomenal, and that I don’t cherish every damn moment we have together. Because believe me. You are my world. What I am saying, is that it didn’t matter to me back then how or when we got married. I just knew that I wanted it to happen. And I’m pretty sure you did too.
Which brings me back full circle here.
When you wake up tomorrow, after reading this, you’re going to do a few things for me.
(Breathe, baby. I promise everything will make sense by the time you reach number ten.)
- First off… Don’t freak out. We’re still getting married. BUT you’re going to call your mom and tell her the wedding is off. (I’ll take care of everyone else. I just can’t deal with Mrs. M.)
- Then you’re going to go into the kitchen, and eat my heart-shaped pancakes, no questions asked.
- After that, you’ll find a bag waiting for you by the front door, packed to the brim with your favorite t-shirts and hoodies, jeans, and yeah, that sexy little black nightie I like to take off with my teeth.
- You should probably take a quick shower then, do your girly…stuff.
- At this point, I’ll be outside waiting for you to either beat my ass or kiss me. (My hope is on the latter, but I’m down for the kink too.)
- In the car, I’ll drive us to the airport, your hand in mine.
- At the airport we’ll board our flight to Vegas for the weekend. (Don’t worry. I talked to your boss. She’s covering your Monday shift. Even told me to say you’re a lucky lady. J)
- Once we step off the plane in Vegas, we’ll head straight to the strip. More specifically the white wedding chapel everyone talks about there.
- Then we’ll get married, just how you wanted to originally, with Elvis even officiating the ceremony.
- I’ll take you back to our hotel suite right after that and… Well, I can’t exactly spoil the surprise just yet.
You see, it doesn’t matter whether we do the big fancy shindig wedding or not. The end result will always be the same.
You ♥ Me = 4-ever.
It’s my fault the wedding planning got so out of hand in the first place. I’m sorry. Truly. I’m the selfish dick who pushed for it, when you insisted on simple. I’m the one who wanted everyone to know that we were getting hitched, when you begged to go to the courthouse and keep it between you and me.
Marriage is a partnership. We agree to disagree. But marriage is all about compromise. And what we both want is to get married.
So, what do you say, Ms. Montgomery? You ready to become Mrs. Martinez, Lee-Lee-style?
(God, I hope so. Otherwise, I’m gonna feel like a complete idiot in the end if you don’t.)
I love you.
Forever and Always,
Maxwell
About the Author
Heather Van Fleet is stay-at-home-mom turned book boyfriend connoisseur. She’s a wife to her high school sweetheart, a mom to three little girls, and in her spare time you can find her with her head buried in her Kindle, guzzling down copious amounts of coffee.
Heather graduated from Black Hawk College in 2003 with an associate degree and has been working in the publishing industry for over five years. She’s represented by Stacey Donaghy of Donaghy Literary.
