RECKLESS - Part 4 (The RECKLESS Series) by Alice Ward Read Free Book Online Page B

ferris wheel had meant so much to me. We both ordered fish and chips, took pictures in the seat that Tom Hanks had sat in during the Sleepless in Seattle film, and then we headed out into the market.
    We stopped at every little shop we came across, tasted more food than I could eat without feeling like I would explode, watched the men throwing fish, gave money to the buskers outside, and bought flowers for my mother.
    Jace took everything in, smiling, laughing, watching with awe... it was quite the surreal experience, seeing someone take in the city for the first time. We were used to tourists, but most of us didn’t really mingle with them. They were a part of the scenery, people you could spot from a mile away because they were the only ones using umbrellas.
    But Jace didn’t. In fact, I was probably the only who knew for certain that he wasn’t from Seattle because, even though he looked at everything through fresh, new, excited eyes, he acted like a local, pulling me to some of the local shops, checking the produce in the market and talking to the local farmers and fisherman like he’d lived there his whole life.
    He really did belong there.
    I only hoped I’d be around to see it the day that it actually happened, that he wouldn’t leave me behind in Texas, or that something wouldn’t happen to us between now and then. Because, reality was, I had enjoyed every waking moment I’d spent with him. I felt more alive, more myself, with him than I ever had with Sean. It was as though Jace held the key to some unlocked part of me, a part that was wild and spontaneous and free. I didn’t know what I would do if I ever lost that.
    Of course, I was overthinking things... again.
    To force my brain to be quiet, I waged a war with Jace, challenged him to race up the hill of death. We huffed and laughed our way up the steep incline, past the shops and locals running in biker shorts. When we reached the top of the third straight block of uphill inclines, Jace demanded a small break.
    “How much farther does this thing go?” he asked, hands at his waist, looking toward the top of the hill.
    He was a fit man, but—somewhere between a 45 and 90 degree angle—these hills were hell on anyone that didn’t climb them every day, including me. Yet, despite my exhaustion, I couldn’t pass up the chance to rib him over his difficulty climbing the massive incline.
    “Tired already?” I asked, bumping his shoulder.
    “They don’t have hills like this in Texas. What’s your excuse?” He bumped me back.
    I released a laugh that sounded a little more like a breathy huff. “They don’t have hills like this in Texas. After four years, I’m practically a native.”
    “Not quite,” he said, lifting a finger at me. “You’re only a native if you stand outside, watching as a tornado comes spinning across the field down the road.”
    “And I suppose you’ve done this? The swirling tornado thing?”
    “No,” he said, laughing and shaking his head. “I’m not a true native either. I hide during the warnings, long before the twister ever makes it anywhere near me.”
    “Well, you fit right in here,” I said, smiling at him, lacing my arm though his. “No umbrella, talking to the locals. Maybe you lived here in a previous lifetime?”
    “Maybe.” He smiled and pulled me. “Or maybe this just is my life. Where I’m meant to be.” He brushed the disheveled hair away from my face and then rested his hand on my cheek. I could tell by the way he was biting at his lip that there was more he wanted to say, but that he refused to do it because of my freak out moment just hours before. But for some reason, right then and there, I needed to know, almost as much as I needed air.
    “Say it,” I whispered, leaning forward, tilting my head up to gently kiss his lips. “Please.”
    He still looked conflicted, but he said it anyway. “You’re the reason it feels like home.”
    Maybe it was because we weren’t in the throes of