Chasing Fire (Gilded Knights Series Book 2)

by Emilia Finn

  He shakes his head but squeezes me harder as a consolation.

  “Maximo? Say ‘mom’? Please?” Tears of grief, worry, and anxiety coalesce and make me cry harder.

  I fear for my son’s future, and I mourn our past. I worry that Max’s life will be that much harder if he doesn’t speak, and then I loathe myself for demanding more from him when he’s already given me such a beautiful gift.

  “I’m sorry, bello. Mommy is sorry for pushing.” I press a kiss to his brow. His cheek. His hair and temple. “You can say anything you want. Whenever you want. And if Mommy gets pushy, you can tell me to stop. I do it because I worry, but that doesn’t make it okay. Okay?” I press another kiss to his forehead. “I’m sorry for ruining what you gave me.” Another kiss to his cheek. His chin. “I love you so much, and I’m gonna say it enough for both of us. If you ever decide to join in, then cool. But if you don’t, that’s cool too.”

  He nods and reaches up to finger a tear that sits on my cheek. He runs his fingertip through the moisture for a moment. Thoughtful. Contemplative. Then smiles. “Mom.”

  “Gah!” I tug him close and crush him in a hug. “I love you, Maximo. It’s me and you forever, and you make me so happy. Come on.” I pull back and smile. “Let’s go watch a game of baseball.”

  Nixon

  Batter, Batter, Batter

  “Italians are here,” Beckett walks by me with a filthy smirk. “Tight jeans and a cute kid on her hip.”

  I spin in place, slugger in my hands and a dark cap pulled low over my eyes, then I stop when I see her.

  Tight jeans, indeed. And a kid, cute as hell, on her hip.

  Idalia looks like a fucking snack in her casual look but fancy hair. It’s as though she has no clue how to be a slob. She’s going for the weekend, ‘I just threw this on’ look, but her hair is perfect. Her eyes, smoky and beautiful. Her nails, manicured and sparkling.

  She’s one of those women who likes to take care of herself, she likes to spend money on things that make her feel good. And hell, I had no clue I liked that till I met her.

  On her hip, Maximo looks like he just walked out of a designer baby catalogue: jeans and Vans, a button-up shirt, a hat that I’m certain neither intended to be off center, but it sits a little askew and looks like the designer dressed him that way. Max clings to his mother, his arms wrapped around her neck and woven through her hair.

  Together, they make a perfect pair, and I… am the guy in stained pants who’s three months overdue for a haircut.

  “She looks goooooood,” Arlo wanders by and sings. “Now pay me my money.”

  I snag my fifty-dollar donation and toss it into her collection basket.

  We had a deal; she was to get Idalia here, and in exchange, I would donate to her basket only. Never mind the fact it was Arlo’s plan to get Idalia here in the first place.

  Or perhaps it was Nadia’s. Or Abby’s.

  “Another fifty’ll get you a meet and greet,” Arlo taunts. “I bet she looks prettier up close.”

  “I’ve already met her, dingdong. I don’t need a meet and greet.”

  “Oh look,” she points her nose to a guy walking toward the mother-son duo. “Looks like someone else is about to say hey.”

  I snatch another fifty and toss it into her basket. “Keep him away. Keep all the dudes away.”

  “I’m gonna need more money, Lieutenant. Keeping the sniffing dogs away will be a full-time job while she’s wearing those jeans.”

  “I just gave you a hundred bucks!”

  “Max is so cute. Did you know he plays Tic-Tac-Toe like a pro? Offer him a dollar for every win, and the kid will hustle you till you’re broke.”

  I turn to Beckett. “Give her some money.”

  My brother only scoffs. “If I’m paying, then I want the meet and greet.”

  “Ohhhh… a bidding war,” Arlo teases. “And between two brothers. Things just got juicy around here. Who is that guy, anyway?”

  She looks back to Idalia and Max, and beside them, a dude whose head is about to be bounced on the end of my baseball bat.

  “He’s cute,” Arlo teases. “And so tall, too. Women love that in a man. Is he…” She looks between me and the other guy. “Is… is he taller than you, Nix?”

  “Fuck this.” With a huff of impatience, I storm off the diamond that someone painted on the grass last night, and toward the mother and son standing by the temporary bleachers.

  The guy—I don’t know his name—stands too close to Idalia. Too friendly. But when I step up and Idalia’s eyes whip to mine and widen, her male friend takes a step back and tilts his head.

  “Idalia.” I speak to her, to Max, and ignore the guy who wants a taste of… well, not of what’s mine. But what I hope to… what I…

  Fuck, I’m just like him.

  A dude who wants a taste of something he can’t have.

  “Nixon?” Idalia’s voice crackles as she speaks above the noise of the growing crowd. “Wow. You’re…” She looks down at my hand. “You’re playing?”

  “Yep. Ready to swing.” I look at the guy. “Did you need something?”

  “Oh!” Jolting, Idalia thrusts a hand toward him. “Nixon, this is Drake. He’s… uh, well, I only just met him. But I believe he’s a police officer, and I guess that means he’s playing against your side today? Drake.” She smiles for him. She fucking smiles for him! “This is Nixon Rosa. He’s… well…” And then her smile disappears. “He’s a firefighter, so I guess that explains why he’s playing.”

  “Firefighters versus police,” Drake taunts. “Sounds about right.”

  “It does. And we both know who’ll win.”

  “Yeah.” Drake smirks and takes a step closer to Idalia. “We sure do. I’ve been practicing my swing too.” As though finally noticing the child on her hip, or only now figuring he should acknowledge him, Drake folds just a little lower and meets Max’s eyes. “You’re a cutie. What’s your name?”

  “Hey!” Rage and protectiveness race along my spine until I’ve pivoted and stand between Drake and Max. “Back up,” I snarl. “They did not invite you to speak to him.”

  “Whoa!” Nadia races our way, practically hurdles over people and shoves my sister out of the way to reach us quicker. “Officer Banks, it would be best if you, like, ejected yourself from this discussion right now.”

  “But why?” he drawls. “Overprotective and over-testosteroned dudes are my specialty. Nixon Rosa?” He looks to me and maintains that fucking grin. “I’ll see you out there, right? Maybe we’ll play near each other. We could hang out.”

  “Yeah,” I grit out. “Maybe.” Too bad this isn’t football, giving me permission to toss the fucker to the ground. “See you out there.”

  “Goodbye, Idalia.” Drake winks for my— er… her. He winks for her, then he steps around and taps the brim of Max’s hat. “Nice to meet you, little buddy. Come find me if you want to hang out or whatever.”

  Drake turns away when I growl, and saunters away with nothing more than a sly grin for Nadia. Then he’s gone, swallowed up by the crowd, and hidden somewhere amongst his team of misfit cops.

  Alex Turner is the chief around here, and at the other end of the bleachers, he stands with his family while he stretches. Oz Franks. Libby Griffin. The police force around here isn’t big enough for an entire baseball team, which is why, I guess, they’re bringing strange in from other towns.

  “Whew,” Nadia exhales. “That coulda gone bad.”

  “Who is Drake Banks?” I demand. “And why is he that way?”

  “What way? I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Smiling and dismissive, Nadia turns when Mitchell calls her name. “Peace out, Nixon. Oh, and hey, Idalia. You look pretty today.” She looks at me. “Doesn’t she, Nix? Super pretty.”

  Before I can speak, the instigator skips off and makes out with my brother in front of the bleachers for anyone to see.

  That behavior is so… not Mitch. But she makes him expand his horizons. She h
elps him grow more tolerant of things he, in the past, wouldn’t tolerate.

  “So…” Idalia clears her throat and bounces Max on her hip. She grins, smug and proud as I bring my gaze to hers. “I have something really exciting to share, and I found I don’t really have anyone in my life right now to share it with.”

  “Oh?” I push aside thoughts of Drake Banks. Of Nadia and Mitch. Even thoughts of my sister and the possibility of her becoming a mom, and instead, I focus on this duo who stand right in front of me. “Well—”

  “And I know how sad that sounds,” she cuts in. “I’m almost thirty, but I’m somewhat alone in this big, bad world.”

  “Well, no. You’re not alone.” I look down at the ground between us. Then to the crowd that packs this park. “I’m right here. And Max is right there. I have five siblings who seem pretty damn invested in your business. And then there’s Spence, and Nadia as well.”

  “And Drake too, I guess.”

  “And Dr—” I stop and scowl. “No.”

  Giggling, she only flips hair off her face and shoulder to reveal her majestic smile. “Max said ‘Mom’.”

  “No shit?” I exclaim, so loud that those around us stop and turn. “When?”

  “This morning,” she squeaks. “An hour ago. He said ‘Mom’ three times! I cried,” she cries now and swipes a fresh tear from her lashes. “All that trauma I was speaking to you about, and how it might be my fault, and now… now…” Her voice catches. “He said ‘Mom’.”

  “That’s so freakin’ awesome!” I want to shout, I want to use stronger words. But I already said shit, and that might be all the allowance I get from the feisty Italian. “I’m so proud of you, Max!”

  I offer a hand, and though most of me expects him to leave me hanging, Max surprises his mother and I both when he jumps forward and high-fives me loud enough that the slap echoes through the crowd.

  “You said ‘Mom’?” I study his eyes and feel my own swell of, not only pride, but relief. For them both. “You chose the best word to start with. You did good, bud.”

  “He won’t say it here,” Idalia murmurs, as though somehow knowing that was my next thought, my next question. “The fact he didn’t bring headphones today is already a big deal. No way will he—”

  “We celebrate today’s wins,” I insert. “Max said ‘Mom,’ and he came to the ballgame with no headphones. That’s pretty badass in my books.”

  “Nix!” Cootes hangs out over by Axe and the rest of my team of not very good baseball players, and when I glance over, she waves me in their direction. “It’s time to start.”

  “Yeah.” I wave back, acknowledgment and dismissal, then I look to Idalia. “You staying for the game?”

  She nods, short and sharp, but her smile gives her happiness away. “We’re gonna watch for as long as it stays interesting.”

  “No pressure, then,” I laugh. “What should I do to keep it interesting?”

  “Score some touchdowns or somethin’.”

  “Ha.” I take a step back. I have to go, but my body remains pointing in their direction. My instincts lead me back toward mother and son. “I’ll fight Drake if you want me to. That’ll be exciting to watch.”

  She lifts a hand and places it over her chest. “It’s so warming to see man hasn’t evolved beyond eighth-grade problem-solving skills.” She rolls her eyes. “Punching someone in the face doesn’t impress me, Nixon.”

  “Three touchdowns, then?”

  Enjoying that I’m playing along, she snickers and waves me off. “If Drake gets more goals, or like… scores or whatever more than you, I’m considering accepting his offer of dinner.”

  My brow shoots high with surprise. Not only is she flirting, but she’s talking dinner dates.

  Fuckin’ A. Game on.

  “And if I get more runs than the rent-a-cop?” I ask.

  She shrugs. That’s it. Then she smiles and backs up to sit at the front of the bleachers.

  “Fucking hell.” Exhaling, I back away and turn to jog toward my team. “Friends my ass. Her jeans look fantastic, too.”

  “You say something, Lew?”

  “Yeah.” The moment I arrive in my squad’s huddle, I have their attention. “If you’re the reason we lose, you’re on toilet-scrubbing for an entire year.”

  I glance around our crowd, the hundred or so people who thought watching this bullshit was a good way to spend their day, and find the one I’m looking for. “And if at any point he’s looking too happy,” I tell my team, “you’re ordered to let me know. I’ll wipe the fucking grin right off his face.”

  “Officer Banks?” Rizz questions. “What did he ever do to you?”

  “Nothing,” I growl. “And he won’t get a chance to do anything to anyone else, either. Let’s go.”

  Idalia

  Butterflies

  “Girrrrrrl.” Nadia plops down on the bleachers on my left, and before I get the chance to scoot over to allow her room, Arlo drops down on the other side and grins when I look her way. Max sits on my lap, playing with my locked phone and studying the crowd around us. He knows Nadia and Arlo, so their proximity, their inability to be calm, long ago stopped bothering him.

  “He looks like a whole effing Happy Meal.”

  I glance to my left, to Nadia, staring longingly toward the field. “Men in baseball pants just… mm-mm.” She licks her lips and smirks for my benefit. “Yummy.”

  “Er, correct me if I’m wrong,” I laugh. “But isn’t your man, uh… over there,” I point toward a hotdog stand. “Not on the field in baseball pants?”

  “Uh-huh. He’s getting me something to eat. I’m starving.”

  “Hence the Happy Meal reference.” Arlo laughs. “Who was that guy you were talking to?”

  “Me? I was talking to Nixon.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I know who Nixon is. I meant the other one. I haven’t seen him around before.”

  “Oh.” I shrug. “His name is Drake. Where I come from, we call his type puttano. Super flirty guy.”

  “He’s hot.”

  “He’s also twice your age,” Nadia growls. “And not where you should be focused right now.”

  “Oh! Right.” Arlo grabs Max when he leans in her direction, and settles him on her lap. “That was my bad. Nix looks good today, huh?”

  “Nix?” I glance back across the field, away from Mitchell at the hotdog stand, and away from Drake, who watches the firefighters’ huddle with a smile. “Yeah, he’s…” I think for a moment. “Nixon is really nice.”

  “He watches you a lot,” Nadia singsongs. “He’s got a crush.”

  “He told me he was watching.” I shrug. “He hasn’t made it a secret that he likes my butt in jeans.”

  “He likes your sharp tongue too,” Arlo adds. “Your pretty hair. Your red lipstick.” She flashes a wide grin when Max glances up at her. “Mommy is pretty, isn’t she, Max? Super pretty.”

  “I see what you guys are doing.” I remain looking forward, but I see the cousins in my peripherals, exchanging guilty glances. “You’re trying to play matchmaker, and you’re pushing me toward Nixon because he’s your friend. Your subtlety is lacking. And ya know what?” I turn and meet Nadia’s eyes. “I’m not interested. Not in a relationship, and especially not with a firefighter.”

  “But he cooks well,” Arlo tries to sweeten the deal. “He picks up after himself. He’s sex on legs, and that uniform is hot as hell.”

  “Firefighter uniform,” I press. “But that other guy, Drake.” I look to Arlo, because I can tease too. “Maybe I could be interested in him. He wears a uniform too, and he’s clearly attracted to me.”

  “I’ll be right back.” She drops Max on my lap so hard that he and I both grunt. Then she’s gone, disappeared into the crowd and out of sight so only her perfume remains above the scent of corndogs and popcorn.

  “What are you two up to?” I sigh. “I’m not looking for an invite to a Rosa family reunion, you know?”

  “Yeah, well, you’d
be missing out if you declined the invite,” Nadia counters. “They’re a cool family, Idalia. They’re like their own mini ecosystem. Their own little village; they’re protective, but hilarious. They cook and clean, they bicker and play. They protect their own above all else. And who the hell do you expect to teach Max how to throw a ball?”

  “Wha—”

  “It’s obvious you’re not the least bit sporty.”

  “And he is?” I glance toward the teams on the field, toward Nixon, while he uses his baseball bat as a mock shotgun… or is it a firehose? “You can’t just select a guy off the shelf and expect it to fall into place so easily.”

  “But you like each other!”

  “Yeah, we like what we see when we look at the other. He’s funny, and he’s cute. He thinks I’m mean sometimes, but he also thinks I’m a good mom.”

  She scowls. “You are a good mom.”

  “We can be friends, Nadia. And do you wanna know a secret?” I meet her eyes and wait for a moment. “He and I already had that conversation. When I was at his home the other—”

  “You were at his home?” she balks. “When?”

  “When I wanted to talk to him about why I think he looks good but we’re incompatible.”

  “But—”

  “Sexual attraction is great, and he and I have that, for sure. From the moment we met, there was something there. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to upend my newly settled life and jump in with a man. I don’t have the time nor the inclination for a relationship right now, Nadia.” I bring my hands up and cup Max’s ears. “And sex is the last thing on my mind.”

  “But I bet he’d be really good at it,” she pouts.

  “Shut up!” Giggling, I release Max’s ears and slap Nadia’s thigh. “Dio mio!”

  “You jump back over to Italian when you’re embarrassed,” she teases. “And you hit.”