Recklessly, Wildly Yours (Only Yours Book 3), page 1
RECKLESSLY, WILDLY YOURS
NINA LEVINE
Escape with a Nina Levine alpha.
Always protective.
Always possessive.
And their women give as good as they get.
MY CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE BOOKS
ESCAPE WITH A BILLIONAIRE SERIES
Ashton Scott
Jack Kingsley
Beckett Pearce
Jameson Fox
Owen North
ONLY YOURS SERIES
(BILLIONAIRES)
Accidentally, Scandalously Yours
Yours Actually
Recklessly, Wildly Yours
STANDALONES
Steal My Breath (single dad romance)
Be The One (rockstar romance)
MY ROMANTIC SUSPENSE BOOKS
Storm MC Original Series
Sydney Storm MC Series
Storm MC Reloaded Series
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RECKLESSLY, WILDLY YOURS
He thinks I’m a runaway bride.
What he doesn’t know is that I’m also a runaway celebrity.
Two hours before I'm supposed to say "I do," I run.
Right into the arms of Ethan Black.
He finds me in a cloud of white lace and sheer panic, stranded in the middle of a Manhattan traffic jam.
My savior in a suit.
He doesn't care about my last name, my fame, or the scandal brewing in my wake.
All he sees is me.
And for the first time, I dare to believe in the possibility of a different future.
But freedom comes at a price.
Falling for Ethan might be the most reckless thing I’ve ever done.
It might cost me everything.
Recklessly, Wildly Yours is a steamy runaway bride romance featuring a cinnamon roll hero, a heroine discovering her voice, a healthy dose of angst & scandal, and a love story that starts with an escape and blossoms into something real, raw, and unforgettable.
CONTENTS
Glossary of Slang
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Note From Nina About This Series
Read My Other Billionaires
Also by Nina Levine
About the Author
DEDICATION
To my readers.
I am so grateful for you.
I’ve been doing this for ten years now and this is the book that made me fall in love with writing all over again and get excited for another ten years.
I hope you love Ethan & Maddie as much as I do.
N x
GLOSSARY OF SLANG
BMS: broke my scale i.e. in reference to someone’s attractiveness where on a scale of 1-10, they broke the scale, and their attractiveness is off the charts.
MFW: my face when, used to indicate someone’s reaction in a scenario.
OOMF: one of my followers.
TFW: that feeling when, references a particular feeling in a specific situation.
Ate that: used to indicate someone doing a good job at something.
It’s giving: used to reference something giving off a certain vibe.
Main character energy: you’re acting as if you’re the star of your own show. Used in a positive light.
Unalive: used as an alternative for kill.
Credit card slam: used in the same context as “shut up and take my money”.
Say sike rn: translates to “please tell me you’re joking right now”.
We stan a ____ queen/king: it means you’re a fan of that person and support them i.e. if a certain singer was focused on asking for permission before touching people while shooting a music video for one of their songs, you’d say, “We stan a consent king.”
Moots: short for “mutuals” i.e. when you follow someone on social media, and they follow you back.
Ick: something that someone does that is an instant turn-off for you, making you hate the idea of being romantically involved with them.
Beige flag: something that’s neither good nor bad but that makes you pause when you notice it and then just continue on. Something odd. Similar to red flags (bad) and green flags (good).
Sheesh: daaaamn!
Heather: a beautiful, popular “desirable person” that everyone is in love or like with.
rn: right now.
RedZone: subscription service for football games.
1
Madeline
@thetea_gasp
Bestie, giddyap! Strap on your riding boots, we’re in our cowgirl era now! Ya’ll know that the country music scene isn’t really for us, but then there’s country superstar @madelinemontana and we adore that girl so we’re always on #MaddieWatch and today is her wedding day! We’ve loved having front row seats for the magical love story between Maddie and Country King @tuckerbrandt over the last three years and can’t wait to see them get hitched and start making beautiful babies together. Tucker has talked openly about his desire to see Maddie with his baby in her belly and we are here for all of this. I mean, the #daddysigh is a real thing and he always makes us sigh when he talks about wanting to be a daddy. Stay tuned for all the updates on this celebrity wedding. We’re all over it!
I pace my hotel room and take a deep breath as I read the Instagram post from The Tea, my anxiety over today spiking to all new levels. I’ve never suffered high anxiety until this past year. Planning my wedding to Tucker has been one anxious journey and here I am today feeling it in every bone of my body.
Your wedding day is supposed to be one of the best days of your life but I’ve already vomited once and I think I could spend the rest of the day being sick. Reading social media posts like the one I just read only makes everything worse.
Since the day three years ago that Tucker released a duet he recorded with me, his rabid fan base has been all over us. Tucker is the reigning King of Country and has been for five years. I was a nobody songwriter sent to write a song with him and our instant connection helped us write a song that debuted at No. 1 on the Top 100 chart and stayed there for twenty weeks. Tucker took me under his wing and literally propelled me to instant country superstardom. His fans also took me under their wing, especially since he started a relationship with me and moved me into his home five weeks after we met.
Our whirlwind love story has been a story both our fan bases have been heavily invested in for years which has me all twisted up because what I’m contemplating doing is something that would shock them all and likely harm my career.
I can’t marry Tucker and I really wish I hadn’t spent the last six months burying my head in the sand on this decision because now I have two hours before I’ll be saying “I do” and joining our lives together in ways I know deep down I don’t want them to be joined.
I’m lost in these thoughts when my phone rings, my manager’s name appearing on the screen.
“Shit.” The word barely whispers from my lips as my thoughts and feelings crash their way around my head and heart. My voice seems too soft. It comes nowhere close to conveying the confusion and conflict consuming me.
The call ends but starts up again almost immediately. Darren is nothing if not persistent. And resourceful. If I don’t answer his call, he’ll find another way to get what he wants from me.
I put the phone to my ear. “Darren.”
His voice comes on the line clipped as usual. “Tucker is on his way and I’ll be there in about twenty minutes. Make sure you’re ready for the wedding then because there won’t be any free time after we arrive.”
God, I hate this man. With a burning passion.
“No, I’ve got two hours and I’m not giving up even a second of them. Whatever you have planned for me can wait until after the ceremony.”
“Today isn’t the day to dig your heels in on whatever rebellion you’ve been waging with me for the past month, Madeline. We’ve got problems with the tour that can’t wait to be fixed. Just be ready by the time Tucker and I get there.”
I open my mouth to argue with him but the call ends and I’m left staring at my phone like I always am when this man manipulates me into doing what he wants. Which, if I’m honest, is also what my fiancé has been doing for three years. Manipulating me.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Still a whisper. Still not loud enough. But then, I’ve always stayed quiet, smiled, and gotten on with it. Neither of these men have heard me get loud. The
I draw a long breath in and eye myself in the full-length mirror. Placing my hands to my stomach, I attempt to calm my nerves and the anger that’s gathering.
My long blonde hair falls in beautiful curls down over my white mermaid wedding dress that’s made of antique lace crotchet. The dress has a low back and plunging neckline, revealing more skin than I’ve ever shown in public. It hugs every curve of my body and I hate it. But Tucker and Darren agreed it was perfect. For our fans, that is. Darren especially wants to give them something they’ve never seen from me. He wants to cultivate a whole new level of interest in us and is convinced a new sexy look will achieve that.
I’ve wanted to scream at him that a wedding is about love not commerce.
I’ve wanted to scream that I didn’t say yes to Tucker so I could put myself on display for the world on the day that’s supposed to be just about us.
I’ve wanted to scream that I’m done.
Because I am done.
And I’m so angry at myself right now for ignoring that fact for six months.
I pull in more air trying to find my center. The problem with trying to do that when you’ve given your center away for so long is that you have no clue where to even begin finding it.
Grab your purse and your phone. That’s all you need. And then get the hell out of here.
My mind is a mess but I know these thoughts are right.
I need to leave before Tucker or Darren arrive. It’s the only way I have a shot at figuring out what I truly want to do because I need space and that’s not something either of them have ever given me.
I’m halfway out of the hotel suite when a text comes through from Tucker.
Tucker: Babe. Darren’s on his way to go over some tour bullshit before the wedding. I was gonna make it there before him but I’ve been held up so just start without me.
This text slows me down for two reasons. Firstly, it’s not the kind of text I ever imagined a man would send his soon-to-be wife on their wedding day. It’s certainly not what I would have hoped to receive from my fiancé. Second, I know why he’s been held up and the fact that I’m relieved rather than furious tells me everything I need to know right now.
My fiancé is going to be late because he’s fucking another woman and he’s just inadvertently given me the go-ahead to skip our wedding.
I gather up the short train of my dress and keep hold of it while I run even though running in a mermaid dress is almost impossible. I have no idea where I’m heading but for the first time in my life, I don’t care. Anywhere would be better than where I am.
2
Ethan
Gage: Are you nearly here?
Me: Almost.
Hayden: Almost to you means something very different to us. How far away are you exactly?
Me: Traffic is ridiculous today.
Gage: Jesus, Ethan, how far?
Bradford: You have the rings, right?
Me: Yes, I have the rings.
I start tapping out a text to my brothers with my ETA but am distracted midway when a blonde woman runs into the hectic Manhattan traffic I’m sitting in, causing a near accident. Taxis and cars swerve to miss her and George, my driver, slams on the brakes. He lets out a string of curse words while I wonder what’s made her put herself in harm’s way.
The sound of horns blaring and people yelling doesn’t seem to deter her. She continues running through the traffic as I watch in interest. I wish I had my camera here so I could capture the escape she appears to be making. Or perhaps it’s not an escape but rather she’s late. For her wedding, that is, because she’s wearing a wedding dress of all things.
She disappears across the street and when I lose sight of her, I go back to my phone.
Me: I’m less than ten minutes away. Maybe fifteen.
Gage: Fuck me. I should have just gotten the rings myself.
Me: This was unavoidable. My flight was late and I don’t know what’s going on in Manhattan today but something has the traffic jammed up.
Bradford: See you soon.
The car starts moving but then jerks to a halt almost immediately. I glance up to find the bride again, this time darting back through the traffic in the direction she came from. She’s got the train of her dress hiked up so she can hold it high enough to not trip on it. When she’s halfway across the street, she abruptly stops and jerks her head to look in all directions, panic etched across her delicate features. Like a gazelle trapped in the concrete jungle.
A text comes in as I’m contemplating what the hell is going on in her life to cause this kind of behavior.
Gage: Don’t be late. Callan’s counting on you being here on time.
Fuck.
I haven’t seen my family in fifteen months and the last thing I want is to be late to my brother’s wedding. I eye the blonde who has managed to singlehandedly cause traffic chaos on a busy Saturday in the middle of Manhattan. She appears to be frozen and unsure of what to do and all I can think is if she doesn’t get herself together soon, my best man duties are at risk. And if that happens, my strained relationship with Callan will also be at risk. Not to mention the fact I promised his fiancée, Olivia, one of my oldest friends, that nothing will stop me from being by my brother’s side while he marries her.
As George rants about the holdup, I exit the car and stride toward the blonde. Her eyes meet mine as I draw nearer, and up close, I see just how alarmed she is. Big, blue, almond-shaped eyes with long lashes that aren’t that fake shit I hate stare back at me, and if I’m not mistaken, they’re screaming for help.
“Have you got a death wish today?” I ask, horns loudly blaring all around us. “Because these drivers aren’t far from anarchy if you keep them waiting.”
She’s a living statue adorned in white lace. Barely breathing. “No.” Her answer whispers out of her on a rush of anxiety.
If there’s one thing I understand the fuck out of, it’s anxiety. This causes me to momentarily forget the fact I’m in a hurry and that she’s the one stalling my journey. I soften my voice and ask, “Do you need help?”
Her eyes flare a fraction and she nods. The fact there’s no hesitation in that nod propels me into action.
I gently but firmly take hold of her arm, and usher her to the car. There’s no uncertainty in her steps, which reassures me that she really does want my help.
I help settle her in the car, noting the frantic edge to her movements as she secures her seatbelt. “Are you running to your wedding or from it?” I figure we may be able to drop her somewhere on our way.
Her breath catches as she looks at me. “From it.” She shifts her gaze to the window, scanning the busy street while the car restarts the slow crawl to the church where Callan is getting married. She then quickly inspects the back seat of the car like she’s looking for something. When she spots my backpack, she asks, “Do you have a jacket?” Her question feels urgent.
“No.” I frown. “Are you cold?” She shouldn’t be. It’s a warm eighty degrees today.
She ignores my question, her fingers shaking as she removes her earrings. “What about a T-shirt?”
I watch as she drops her earrings into her purse before running her fingers through her long hair, quickly tousling the perfect waves like she’s trying to mess them up. “No T-shirt I’m afraid. I do have cash though if you want to go buy yourself some clothes.”
“A hat maybe?” Her voice wavers.
“I’m sure there’s a store that sells hats close by,” I offer, trying to calm her nerves.
“No, do you have one in your backpack?”
I lean in close toward her and whisper conspiratorially, “Are you trying to disguise yourself so your fiancé doesn’t find you?” I’m joking, still trying to help her shift her anxiousness, but the look in her eyes tells me I’m not wrong. “Fuck, okay.” I grab my backpack and pass her my cap. “Are you in danger? Has he hurt you? Do you need—”
“No, nothing like that.” She secures my well-worn baseball cap in place and hell if it doesn’t look good on her. “Let’s just say that being unrecognizable would make my life easier right now.”
“Right. Here then, put these on.” I retrieve my sunglasses and hand them to her.
