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Authors: Ashley Christine

Freed by Fire (9 page)

BOOK: Freed by Fire
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HOME OR I’LL START LOOKING IN

DUMPSTERS!

 

Me:
1:58 pm
I’m alive. I’m sorry. No pounding.

Fill in later. I hope you’re not getting this text

while you’re knee-deep in a dumpster.

 

Maggie:
2:02 pm
If I didn’t love you, I’d write

you off completely. I’ll be home after six, bitch.

 

Smiling at Maggie’s reply, I set my phone down and peeled off Ellie’s picnic/tablecloth dress. I needed to shower in the worst way. I couldn’t believe Caid didn’t get turned off—I was pretty sure I stunk right then.

I typed Caid’s name into Google. Well, Kincaid Burke, Chicago, to be exact. About ten or so queries popped up. All related to the Chicago Fire Department in some way. He was mentioned in a few articles regarding fires he assisted in putting out, also some charity work that the firehouse had been a part of. Extending my stalker reach, I searched his name in Facebook. Didn’t seem like he had one. Nothing came up.

My inquest into Caid was short-lived. I stared at my laptop screen, the background photo was one of my mom and me on my wedding day. I gazed into the eyes of the girl I used to be. Freshly turned twenty-one and married. My eyes glazed when I looked at my mom. Her beautiful dark hair curled in long tendrils, framing her slender but strong face.

I knew she smiled for my sake that day. I knew about her reservations regarding Matt, but I repeatedly told her that I loved him. She said she loved me, so she would stand by my side. My mom walked me down the aisle that day. Gave me to a man she wasn’t a fan of, all because she loved me and I asked her to do it.

“And what would you think of Kincaid Burke, mom?” I whispered, trailing my fingertip across the screen on her face. “I think you would like him.”

I think I liked him. A lot.

With my laptop still open, I clicked the word processor and opened a new document. It had been six months since my last book was published. I hadn’t written anything since. Sitting and watching the blinking cursor for a few moments, I set my fingers inches above the keys and let out a deep breath. Resting them down, I began to type.

 

***

Friday, July 5
— 6:23 pm

 

“Oh, thank God. You’re here.” Maggie flew in the door and dropped her bag on the floor. She kicked off her shoes and jumped on the couch beside me. “What’cha doin?”

“Writing…Hi, how was work?” I smiled.

“It sucked. Can I read?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. I’m not even ten thousand words in.”

“Holy shit…what are you writing about?”

“Stuff.”

“Sexy stuff?”

“Maybe yes. Maybe no.”

“That’s a yes.” Maggie grabbed my laptop and turned it toward her. I didn’t put up a fight. Sooner or later she was going to read it.


The silken touch of his hand soothed my skin. His tongue laved into my slick…
” Maggie blinked. “You wrote the P word.”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t write that in the other books. Not that I’m complaining. Let’s call a spade a spade, right?”

“I know I didn’t in the other books. I’m not that girl anymore. I was thinking, Mags…I need a new pen name.”

“Emery P. Finn?”

“P?”

Maggie sighed. “Pussy.”

“Hmm,” I said, tapping my finger on my cheek. I grinned. “No.”

“Eh, it was worth a shot.” Maggie shrugged. “I’m starving. What did you cook for dinner, Woman?”

I laughed. “I’ve been writing all afternoon. I’m sorry. Want me to order something?”

“Yes! I’m so hungry. Plus, we need to discuss your lack of pounding last night. In detail, of course. And ordering in is the best idea. We can’t really go to a restaurant and talk about that type of thing. Heaven forbid someone hear us say pussy.”

“Okay, no more reading Emery’s manuscript for Maggie. I’ll order something.”

With that, Maggie stuck her tongue out at me, smiled and went down the hallway to change.

It was after 8 pm when the food finally arrived. I ordered the biggest, greasiest Chicago-style pizza I could find. It was one of those nights. A carb-induced coma was definitely in my very near future.

“Okay, so…spill.” Maggie chewed off the tip of a slice and waggled her eyebrows.

“I told ya, no pounding.” I shrugged.

“We’ve been through this. You bad liar, me need dirt.”

I sighed before ripping off a piece and filling my cheek, speaking around the wad in my mouth. “We went to his house…”

“Well, I figured that. I wasn’t expecting you to find a park bench.”

“You’re funny. Anyway, he gets me into his bedroom, and…it was just too perfect, Mags.
He’s
too perfect. What the hell would a guy that pretty want with me? I’m nobody.”

Maggie took the slice of pizza out of my hand and pulled her chair close to mine so our knees were mashed against one another. “Caid would be an idiot to
not
want you. He’s the lucky one, Em. Don’t ever sell yourself short. Fucking Matt…”

“Matt? What does he have to do with this?”

“Everything.”

“I don’t follow…”

“Em, I don’t want to say he ruined you, because he didn’t. You’re too strong…but he sure fucked with your mind long enough to make you think you’re not worth much. When, in all reality, you should be soaring in the fucking sky right now. With the exception of losing your mother, you should be on Cloud Nine. You’re finally starting to see what kind of life you’ve always wanted…the one your mom always wanted for you.”

“Wow, what did they put in this pizza?” I asked, smirking. “I know, Maggie. Thank you. It’s just…damn. Caid’s unreal.”

“Let’s do a mulligan, shall we? Start over,
he gets me into his bedroom…

I let out a long breath. “We kissed. I mean, I’ve never even
written
that type of shit before. We made it to his bed, then…I passed out.” I stuck my lip out far and pouted.

“No!”

“Yes.”

“Em…”

“I know! I woke up, still in my dress, under his sheets. Mags, I know he didn’t touch me. He laid beside me, staring at me when I woke up. Then he pointed out my pool of drool on his fucking pillow and I nearly wanted to jump out the window…”

Maggie burst out in laughter. Nearly choking on her pizza.

“So…then…”

“Then…” she said expectantly.

“Did you know his real name is Kincaid?”

“No, wow…huh. That’s pretty sexy though.”

“Yeah well, so he’s telling me that the guys at work call him Burke, and everyone else calls him Caid. With the exception of one person.”

Maggie was holding her breath now, hanging on my every word, anticipating…and I loved it.

“Dad.”

“What?”

“He’s a dad. I met his son.”

Maggie’s brows lifted, her mouth dropped open and she gasped. “No way.”

“Way. Maggie, he’s so adorable, too. His name is Caleb. He’s four.” I was going to tell her that his favorite color was blue, but I still wasn’t sure if she heard anything I said after “I met his son.”

“Where’s his mom?”

I swallowed. A question I didn’t even really have the answer to. Did I want to know the answer? Did I want to continue this…whatever it was with Caid? “I guess she lives in Florida. That’s all he said about her.”

“We need wine.”

“Mag—” she cut me off before I could finish.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday, I don’t need to work. We’re drinking wine.”

While Maggie moved into the kitchen, I sat quietly and let my mind wander deeper into the world of Caid. He didn’t say if he had to work this weekend. What was the work schedule of a firefighter like anyway? If his son was home, I doubted he would be at Leland’s tonight. Not that I wanted to become a regular there, but I wanted to see him.

We did exchange numbers before he dropped me off. I didn’t know how to do this. Do I call him? Text him? Do I wait for him to make the first contact via technology? No good decisions were made while drunk. But, Maggie was right—again. We needed wine.

She plunked down and slid a glass half-filled with pinot toward me. “This won’t put hair on ya chest, love. Don’t ya worry.” She winked.

“I love their accent.”

“Who doesn’t?” She smirked and sipped from her glass.

And I loved
his
hands. His face. His body…damn, that body. I pictured him in his work gear. His face riddled with ash and sweat. Crap, I’m so out of my element here.

 

Chapter Eight

Tuesday, July 9
— 7:26 am

 

I awoke with the sound of sirens in my head. I must have been having another delicious dream about Caid…No, that’s not it. That’s really the sound of sirens outside. Quickly sitting up in bed, I pushed off the sheets and rushed to the window. Hundreds of feet below my window, I caught the tiny tail-end of a line of hastening emergency vehicles flying by.

My heart stopped a little, seeing the red and black trucks. There weren’t any people hanging onto the sides, like you would see in the movies, but I knew he had to be inside one of them. Maggie’s apartment was closer to the firehouse he worked at, than his own house was. I wondered why, if he had a choice, he worked there and not one closer to his home.

Maggie was already at work by the time I got out to the living room. I ate a small breakfast of oatmeal with berries, and then dressed. I chose wear one of Ellie’s dresses. One she had smuggled in the apartment the night of my new “rebirth”. It was a light, airy, cotton dress with a gingham chest. I felt very girly.

The temperature was well into the nineties. I could tell by simply looking outside. The heat was pouring off the concrete in waves; it rippled through the air. I knew my hair wasn’t going to comply once it got caught in the clamminess. Pulling it up into a messy bun atop my head, I grabbed my purse, laptop, and cellphone and headed out the door.

The older man who worked in the lobby greeted me by name, and I smiled and waved at him before exiting into the inferno. It was…hot. I slid on my sunglasses and made my way through the mass of heat to Starbuck’s—my air-conditioned haven.

My earbuds played Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines”, and I had to stop myself from dancing down the street. The music, the sunshine, and thought of Caid put me in the best mood. I smiled, humming down the sidewalk. While I stood to wait for the crosswalk light to change for my turn to walk, I waited next to a few other people.

Their heads began to turn and shield their eyes from the sun. The blast of a train-like horn startled me nearly out of my sandals. I jumped and looked to my left, where a fire truck was idling, waiting for the light to change. I yanked out my earbuds.

“Hey!” I heard a voice.

I looked up to see Caid’s beautiful face smiling at me through the lowered window. I melted simply from his smile—forget the heat and the blazing sun. His million megawatt grin was brighter, hotter, sizzling.

“Hi,” I said, waving my fingers.

“You didn’t call me.”

I furrowed my brow. No, I hadn’t called him, but he didn’t call me either.

“Yeah, what’s up with that, Emery?” Daniel’s blonde head poked out from the seat behind Caid. “He hasn’t fucking shut up about you since last week! You better call him!”

A few other voices inside the truck began to whistle and cat-call. Caid turned and punched Daniel’s shoulder, shrugged at me and grinned. “Gotta go now, love.” He rolled the window back up just as the truck moved forward with the green light.

 

Caid:
Sorry this is my first text to you Em, but

it had to be said. You look fucking delicious right

now.

 

I peered down at my phone, the truck was gone from my sight, and my feet were still planted at the crosswalk. I hadn’t moved.

 

Me
: I somehow doubt that. But, thank you anyway
.

 

Caid:
The sheen of sweat on your shoulders, the

tiny trickle running down your back…made me

think of very MEAN things I could do to you.

I hope you don’t have any plans this weekend,

Miss Writer.

 

Embarrassed that he noticed I was sweating, I replied after I finally crossed the street. Starbuck’s was fifty feet away and I was melting like a snowball.

 

Me:
I don’t even know how to respond to that.

I guess I’ll just say that I look forward to mean

and despicable things.

 

Caid:
Plans?

 

Me:
None.

 

Caid:
Good. And ignore Daniel, I haven’t

said feck-all about you. I actually forgot your

name until I looked into my contact list.

 

Me:
MEAN.

 

Caid:
LOL Like I said. Ruthless. Till later, love.

 

My heart stopped. My lips and mouth were dry as a bone.
Till later
. I stared at the words until the barista started snapping her fingers to get my attention. “Sorry!” I said to her, tripping forward to place my order.

Flopping down on a chair, I held my phone up again. Till later. Forget the “love” part. He probably referred to every woman that way. God knew Leland did. Till later was something that hit me square to the soul. I didn’t think I had said it to him when he dropped me off at Maggie’s last week. Maybe I did. I don’t know. Perhaps I shouldn’t read too much into it.

I sipped my vanilla chai frappe and sat for the next three hours writing line upon line of my next book. It was still untitled. I didn’t give a title to any of my books until I was finished with them. Always wanting to choose something that was a perfect fit for the story, like a name for a child. Really, in a way, these books were my children. My babies. The only thing I was able to create.

I had my characters, a general idea of the storyline I wanted, but couldn’t think of an ending. Not that I was anywhere near finishing—only about 30,000 words in at that point, but I wasn’t sure the direction I wanted to send my leading lady in. Did I want her to hit a bump in the road? A brick wall? A possessive/stalker ex? I didn’t know. What I did know was that this leading lady was being sucked into the gravitational pull, like a moth to a flame—if you will, to a man who had shaken her right to her core.

I’d be lying if I said my new book boyfriend didn’t have some similarities to a certain CFD firefighter. Some? Who was I kidding? He’s Caid in book-form. But, I would lay all my money on a table right now, to bet that BB (book boyfriend) and anything I typed him doing to LL (leading lady) wasn’t anything close to the capabilities Caid Burke possessed and mastered.

Sitting back from the laptop, I absently drained my frappe and let my mind wander. What did he have planned for this weekend? What could he want to do that would consume the duration of an entire weekend? A slight chill sent goose bumps over my skin. I knew it wasn’t from the cool air-conditioning. I thought of his mouth on me again. His lips. Those fingers.

I didn’t know what he had planned. Caid Burke was going to break me, I just knew it.

 

***

Thursday, July 11
— 7:07 pm

 

Maggie called to let me know she was running late. A last minute deal at her firm was about to fall through and WW&W needed all hands on deck. She promised to bring home Chinese and a bottle of wine. I told her I would have settled on ice cream, but Chinese sounded good.

I laid in the bathtub for so long that my fingers and toes had begun to prune. I climbed out once the water cooled and wrapped myself in a towel. Flipping my hair around into a curly, messy mop of a bun atop my head, I padded into the kitchen and poured a glass of water.

 

Maggie:
Be home in 5. I forgot my keys,

can you let me in?

 

Me:
Of course. C U soon.

 

I set the glass down just as a light knock rapped on the wooden door. I smiled as I walked toward it, happy to see Maggie, and even happier to chow down on a bowl of sweet and sour spareribs.

“Thank God, I’m starv—”

“Hello, love.”

Caid stood in the doorway. Caid. Not Maggie. He held a white paper bag with a take-out receipt taped to it. It was the Chinese. Oh, sweet Mother of Pearl. He wore jeans with a rip in the knee, frayed and tattered at his feet, a white V-neck tee and a biggest smile I’d ever seen.

“W—what are you doing here?”

“Starting the weekend early. Do you always open the door in…that?” Caid’s eyes travelled down my towel-wrapped body and back up. Ever. So. Slowly. As if he were licking my skin with his mere sight.

My breath caught in my throat and I flushed. I pushed away the feeling of modesty and answered. “Well, I was hoping you were the guy from 46E.” I smirked.

Caid blinked, looked down the hallway and sighed. “You mean the old guy wearing the Indiana Jones man-purse?”

I peeked out the door. Forty-Six E was standing outside his door, unlocking it. Before I stood back in the apartment, Caid touched my arm. His hand gently wrapped around my skin. His thumb brushed feathery wisps, and I lost my ability to inhale again.

“I hope you’ll settle for me, Emery. After all, I don’t see 46E holding a bag of Chinese.”

I hope that’s not all you’ve got for me.
“Mr. Burke, would you please come in?” I smiled sweetly and excused myself before turning on my heel and walking briskly to my bedroom to dress. I felt his eyes on me the entire time.

I was going to kill Maggie.

Kill.

Or bow down to, thank and tell her I’d be forever in her debt.

 

Me:
Explanation. NOW.

 

Maggie:
Later, love. You’ll be busy for a while.

 

Me:
You’re the best worst friend ever.

 

Maggie:
Save a fortune cookie for me.

 

Me:
Where are you anyway?

 

Maggie:
With Ellie at Leland’s.

I’ve been here for an hour.

 

Me:
Mags!

 

Maggie:
Emery! Stop wasting your time

texting me. Go get your chicken balls

with a side of pounding.

 

I shook my head and tossed my phone on the bed. I dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a plain black t-shirt. I figured that if I came out in a dress, it would just be weird. He’s already seen me drunk, passed out, in a towel with a hot mess of hair on my head…he’s witnessed all my glory. No point in getting fancy now.

Caid had the coffee table covered with an array of Chinese when I entered the living room. My stomach rumbled as I took in the scent of everything. When he stood and wiped his hands on his jeans, I forgot all about the food. It was him I could smell. His intoxicating scent of man, slight cologne and the sex that oozed from his pores.

“I’m pretty sure they created those pants to drive men crazy.” Caid moved toward me, standing so close that I could feel his hot breath on my skin. “Is that why you wore them, Emery?”

Yes
. “It’s the first thing I grabbed.” I whispered. Why did this man have such a profound effect on me? I was two seconds from turning into a puddle on the floor.

Caid took my hand and led me toward the couch. “Maggie told me what you liked. I hope I didn’t miss anything.”

“It looks so good.”

“It does,” he said. I didn’t think he was talking about the food, because he stared at my mouth as he said it.

“Where’s Caleb?”

A smile flickered across his lips and his eyes shimmered. “He’s at his grandparent
s. His grandfather is feeling well again, so he’ll be there for the next week. They spend two weeks with him every summer.”

“That’s nice. Is he their only grandchild?” I asked, unsure if it was asking for too much information.

“No.” Caid tugged me down to the couch. “Maggie said you wanted wine, but I didn’t bring any. I…” he leaned in and spoke softly into my ear. “Want to re-do last week. Without alcohol.”

I swallowed, tried to breathe and let out a tiny whimper. He was so close, I just wanted to grab his face and pull his lips to mine again. I leaned my cheek into his, feeling the stubble, the tingle from the contact and the racing of my heart.

Caid touched my face, his rough fingers traced my jaw as he gently kissed my other cheek. “Let’s eat before I change my mind about the wine.”

I didn’t want to eat Chinese anymore. I just wanted to drag his body down to mine and have him kiss me again. His touch left a burning line on my face, and I yearned for him to do it again.

“Want to listen to some music? Or I can turn the TV on…” I needed some background noise. It was too quiet. The aura in the room was thick.

“Sure, music would be nice. What do you listen to?” Caid asked, dripping soya sauce onto an egg roll.

“Everything, actually. I like pretty much any genre. What about you? Any requests?” I smiled as I tip-toed to Maggie’s iPod dock.

BOOK: Freed by Fire
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