Firecracker
Kelly Jamieson
Contents
Praise for Kelly Jamieson
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
Epilogue
Other Books by Kelly Jamieson
About the Author
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Firecracker: Copyright 2019 by Kelly Jamieson
Cover by Wicked Smart Designs
Digital Formatting by Stacey Price
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Praise for Kelly Jamieson
“Kelly Jamieson delivers a blazing passionate read that tugs at the heartstrings!”
~ Carly Phillips, New York Times Bestselling Author
“seductive and bewitching from the very start… Softly romantic and wickedly provocative”
~ RT Book Reviews on Rule of Three
“Kelly Jamieson now has a permanent place on my keeper shelf and I can’t wait to see what she writes next.”
~ Joyfully Reviewed
“Ms. Jamieson once again gives the reader a richly detailed story that is brimming over with sexual tension, intoxicating desires and intriguing carnal needs that is edgy and psychologically intense…”
~ The Romance Studio
“…I love Kelly Jamieson’s books and the way that she depicts her characters…”
~ Sizzling Hot Book Reviews
Chapter One
Moving into a fifty-five-plus seniors’ complex in Fort Meyers, Florida, was about as appealing as having her hoo-haw bleached.
Hey, apparently vaginal whitening was a thing.
Arden shook her head. Never mind cosmetic procedures for rarely seen body parts. She had more important things to focus on. Like where the hell she was going to live.
She sighed and stared at her email on her laptop. It was nice of Mom and Dad to offer their spare bedroom, but it wasn’t going to happen. She knew exactly how that would go down—they’d wrap her up in a blanket and hug her and feed her carbs and tell her everything was going to be okay.
That sounded pretty good, actually.
No. Arden lifted her chin. She’d handled all the crap for the last year on her own. She wasn’t going to regress into the pampered princess she’d been when she last lived with her parents. She was a grown woman and she was taking charge of her life.
She was going to have to take her little brother’s charity offer instead.
She rubbed her forehead where the chronic ache was worsening. She had enough money in her bank account to cover the move from Phoenix to Chicago, and a tiny cushion, but the word “tiny” when referring to her savings made her stomach cramp and panic flutter in her throat. She had to be out of the house on June 30. That gave her three weeks to pack and ship what furniture and household items she wanted to keep, sell off the rest, and get out of town.
Going home to Chicago wasn’t so bad. She’d left there to go to college ten years ago and she still missed it. Phoenix was lovely, but it was different, and now it felt like a prison. She couldn’t leave home without thinking people were looking at her, judging her, pitying her, or wondering how she could have been so stupid.
She was wondering that herself.
For an intelligent, educated woman, she’d fucked up epically. Now here she was, twenty-eight years old, homeless, penniless, and widowed.
Arden squeezed her eyes closed at the stab of pain. It was still hard to believe Michael was gone. She’d spent the last ten months coming to terms with that, grieving, even though she’d no longer loved him at the end—and didn’t that jab of guilt just add to the pain—but he was her husband.
All their hopes and dreams, gone, in the blink of an eye.
Hell, the truth was, her hopes and dreams had been slowly dying over the last few years. While she’d watched her friends’ perfect lives unfold on Facebook, she’d pretended her life was equally perfect. But it wasn’t. And wasn’t that a guaranteed trip to Depressionville, constantly watching the illusion of everything her friends apparently had that she didn’t.
She sucked in a long breath, lifted her chin and focused on her laptop. Fingers flying over the keyboard, she messaged her brother.
Hey, Jamie! I’ve given it a lot of thought and decided to take you up on your offer of Apartment 4 if it’s still open!
Her little brother the tech geek had become a multimillionaire with his business StatTrakker, and had been buying properties in Chicago, including the four-unit building in Lincoln Park where he lived. He rented out two other units to friends, and one was currently vacant.
His reply came quickly. Great! When are you arriving? We’ll try to get it habitable before you get here.
Eeek. Habitable? That didn’t sound promising.
You sure this will work? I can go stay with Mom and Dad…*shudder*
Ha! Yes, it will work. We’re in the process of renovating that unit—the last one to be done. So you’ll have to put up with Tyler doing some work, that’s all.
Tyler was Jamie’s long-time best buddy. She remembered him hanging around with Jamie when they’d been younger. Nice kid, though he and Jamie had been equally gangly, awkward, and goofy. Tyler’d been tall and skinny with major orthodontic work. The two boys had been sixteen when she’d left for college.
Sure, that’s fine, she typed back. Beggars can’t be choosers. Then she added a smiley face, even though it was a sad truth. I’ll let you know my flight details as soon as I book it.
She looked around the nearly empty ranch-style house she’d shared with Michael the last four years of their five-year marriage, filled with brilliant Arizona sun. She loved this house and giving it up was hard. But in a way, it was for the best. There were painful memories here that she wanted to leave behind. She’d start over in Chicago.
The uncertainty of her life filled her with churning dread. But it would be okay. She was okay. The last year had been a nightmare, but it was done now, and it was time to move on.
She couldn’t book a flight online because she had no credit cards anymore, so she had to go to a travel agent where she could write a check. She’d already sold their two vehicles, so she had to walk to the bus stop, which wasn’t exactly close. In the hundred-degree afternoon heat, she was soon wilted and sweaty.
When she’d accomplished that errand, she had one more stop to make. She paused in front of the shop, eyeing the sign that said “Diamond Joe’s.” She sucked briefly on her bottom lip, then entered.
The small store was lined with glass display counters full of gold, silver, and gems that glittered in the fluorescent lights. She crossed to the back cou
nter where a man was inspecting a piece of jewelry with a loupe. He looked up at her and smiled, his round face creasing. He was round everywhere…the top of his bald head, his face, his belly in a strained white shirt. “Hello,” he greeted her. “How can I help you?”
She bent her head to look at the diamond wedding set on her left hand. She’d loved these rings so much. She couldn’t help but remember the day Michael had proposed to her, how giddy and in love they’d been—probably too young to get married but with stars in their eyes as bright as the diamonds on the engagement ring, they’d imagined a perfect life together.
An ache of loss and regret bloomed inside her.
She’d sold nearly everything else of value they had. She’d resisted selling the rings, even though she had no daughter to pass them on to and her marriage had been a shell, because at one time they had meant something. They’d meant so very much.
Her throat thickened as she slowly pulled the rings off. “I’d like to sell these.”
Two weeks later, she stood in the kitchen surveying the boxes of household items, trying to decide what to pack and what to get rid of. It was painful to contemplate giving up the Lagostina cookware, Henkel knives, and KitchenAid mixer. Even more than it had been to decide which designer shoes to keep and which to send to consignment.
The doorbell rang.
Her head jerked around. Who could that be? Frowning, she headed to the front door to see her mother standing on the doorstep.
She threw open the door. “Mom! What are you doing here?”
Mom smiled and opened her arms for a hug. “I came to help.”
Arden moved into her mom’s embrace, and as her mother’s arms closed around her, emotion surged into her throat painfully. She hugged her mom back, and they stood together for a moment. Then she drew in a shaky breath and pulled back.
“I told you not to come.”
“I know you did.”
Arden stepped back, and Mom picked up her small suitcase and followed her inside. “Nice and cool in here,” Mom said, fanning herself. “I had to come, honey. You’re all on your own, trying to pack up things in this huge house all by yourself.”
“I can handle it.” She’d been determined to be strong and self-reliant, but now her mom was here, she was actually…grateful. She’d been feeling overwhelmed. She still wasn’t sleeping well, tired both physically and mentally, and that didn’t help.
“I know you can.” Mom touched her cheek. “But you don’t have to. That’s what family is for.”
Arden wanted to cry but fought back the tears. “You’re right,” she managed to choke out. Her brother was taking her in and helping out, and now her mom was here to help and even though she wanted to be a grown-up and take responsibility for everything…she was so glad she had family. She’d do the same if they needed help.
She met her mom’s eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”
Mom clasped her upper arms gently and held her gaze. “You’re going to be fine. You are fine. This will be a good change for you.”
Arden nodded. “A new start. I agree.” She smiled. “Jamie’s been great, letting me stay at his place.”
“Of course. I’d be giving him hell if he didn’t.” She smiled ruefully. “You two…” She shook her head. “I don’t know what happened to you.”
“What do you mean?” Arden strolled to the kitchen, ready to make her mom a cup of coffee or iced tea. She paused at the big granite island and set her hands on the cool stone, facing her mom as she followed.
“You both lead such different lives…it kind of blows my mind.”
Arden laughed. “What?”
“Well, look at Jamie…making so much money he doesn’t know what to do with it, buying real estate and renovating it, and making even more money. And you…married to a famous football player, hobnobbing with celebrities, hosting fancy dinner parties…” She chuckles. “That’s not how you grew up. That’s not who your father and I are. We’re just regular mid-westerners—”
“Who retired to Florida.”
“Well, yes, but we’re not living in some super luxurious retirement resort. We wanted to give you both a good life and encourage you to be the best you can be, but we sure as heck never envisioned what you’ve both done. Your worlds are so different than ours.”
“Not anymore,” Arden muttered, aware that she hadn’t really done anything with her life. “Would you like coffee? Or something cold?”
“A cold drink would be wonderful.”
Arden opened the fridge and grabbed a pitcher of tea, then poured two glasses.
“So, where should I start?” Mom looked around the kitchen. “You know I love organizing things.”
She really did. More gratitude flooded through Arden, a little of the weight lifting off her shoulders. “Thank you, Mom.”
A week later, Arden arrived at O’Hare. Jamie was there to meet her, and when she saw him, sudden emotion swamped her. She’d felt lonely in Phoenix, abandoned by the people she’d thought were friends, until Mom showed up.
“Hey!” He threw his arms around her in a big bear hug. “You’re here.”
She nodded against his broad chest. He may be her younger brother, but he sure wasn’t little anymore, now over six feet tall, still lean but broad-shouldered. She hugged him back. “I’m here.”
“I’m glad. We’ve been worried about you. It’ll be good to have you here where I can keep an eye on you.”
Her head jerked back, and she frowned up at him. “Jamie. I don’t need a babysitter. I’m fine.”
He grinned. His mop of dark curls still fell over his forehead and ears, and he still wore dark-framed glasses, but now had a layer of dark stubble on his jaw. “I know, I know. Humor me. It’s been hard being so far away from you, knowing what you’re going through.”
She’d tried to downplay the disaster her life had been after Michael’s death, but eventually had to tell her family everything. They’d been there for Michael’s funeral, but she’d insisted she could deal with things on her own after that.
“It’s done,” she said. “Finally.”
“Good.” His smile faded and he studied her face. “You sure you’re okay? You look like you’ve lost weight.”
“Yay.”
He rolled his eyes. “As if you needed to.”
“Ten pounds. I always wanted to lose ten pounds.” She smiled.
They headed toward the baggage carousel for her flight, Jamie’s arm slung around her shoulders. “So, is the apartment ‘habitable’?” she asked.
He laughed. “Yeah, it’s habitable. We worked on the kitchen first, so you have a nice new kitchen, but there’s still a lot to be done in the rest of the place.”
“When you say ‘we worked,’ you mean Tyler worked.”
“Hey.” He frowned in affront. “I do help. I’ve been learning from him.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “Really?”
“Well. Some. Mostly I’m just his gopher. I tried to use some crazy huge power saw once and nearly cut my hand off. But I have other talents.”
“That you do.” Even though Jamie’s success made her feel even more like a loser, she was proud of her geeky little brother. He’d started his business when he was in his senior year of high school and holy fuckbuckets, look at him now.
Literally, look at him now. Because all the other women around them were definitely looking. Jesus. She squinted at him.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
She elbowed him in the ribs. “Those girls are checking you out.”
He smiled.
“I’m trying to figure out why.” She put on a mystified expression.
Jamie scowled. “Thanks.”
She grinned. Teasing her baby brother was making her world all better.
Eventually her bags arrived. “Holy shit,” Jamie said as he hauled one off the conveyor belt. “What the hell did you bring?”
“All my worldly possessions. In two suitcases, FYI.”
; “Not quite all your worldly possessions. The stuff you shipped is in the apartment.”
“Oh, good.”
They each took one suitcase and started toward the exit to the parking garage. Arden’s shoulders were burning by the time they arrived at his vehicle, a gleaming new Jeep. “Nice ride.”
“Thanks.” Despite his earlier complaints, he lifted her heavy suitcases into the back of the Jeep with ease and she shoved her carry-on in there too. Soon they were zipping along I-90. She watched familiar scenery slide by as Jamie talked about his business and baffled her with techy bullshit.
When they exited and Jamie eventually turned onto North Hudson, she gazed around her new neighborhood, smiling. Mature trees lined the narrow street and provided leafy green shade to the late nineteenth century stone and brick row houses, and at the base of the trees, wrought iron fences surrounded beds full of ivy and begonias. Jamie parked in front of a red brick building with ivy climbing up and around the arched windows and a pretty green courtyard in front. A wrought iron fence edged the courtyard, bordered by green shrubs on each side. Jamie unlocked the gate and as they walked up the sidewalk, she eyed the neatly trimmed patch of grass, the entrance with its substantial wooden door, and above it the name THE triumph carved into stone.
“Did you plant that?” She gestured at a big black pot on the front steps overflowing with bright red and orange impatiens, lime green sweet potato vines, and multicolored coleus.
Firecracker: A contemporary romance Page 1