Chasing Fire (Gilded Knights Series Book 2)

by Emilia Finn

  “Dio mio!” She buries her face against her free hand. “Please stop.”

  “When you come on my tongue, your entire pussy clenches tight. Did you know that?”

  “Stoppppp.”

  “And when you come with me inside you, it’s like electricity meets electricity.” I flash a wolfish grin. “I’ve never felt that before.”

  “Shut up now.”

  Chuckling, I bring our joined hands up and press a kiss to her knuckles. “I’m not gonna nag and ask to stay for breakfast when we get to your place, since I know this thing with Max is delicate. But you should know I’m hungry, and if you were willing to video call me so I can listen in while you do family breakfast, I would totally be on board with that.”

  “Nixon, I—”

  “Like I said,” I press. “It’s delicate. Breakfast is a hell of a lot different than dinner, especially when your son slept assuming Mom was safe in her own bed. So I’m cool to miss breakfast… today. But dinner?” I press another kiss to her knuckles. “Please?”

  “Okay.” Her face remains hidden in her hand. Her voice crackling and not at all persuasive. But she said the word I wanted to hear. “Dinner. Tonight. I’ll text you later with a time once I speak to Max.”

  My smile grows until it pushes my cheeks high. “Deal.”

  15

  Idalia

  The walk of shame

  I say goodbye to Nixon at my doorway and watch him swagger onto the stairs—because that’s what he does. He swaggers. Shoulders back, thumbs in his front pockets, and when he glances back just before leaving my sight, he smirks and makes my core tingle.

  He’s proud of what he did last night… to me, for me, in me. He’s proud of the number of times he did those things, and the numerous places he achieved them.

  He’s just proud, full stop. And though that self-satisfaction should annoy me, mostly it’s endearing. Because he’s really friggin’ handsome, and his eyes are only for me.

  Once he’s gone and I stand all alone at the entrance to my apartment, I turn before anyone can see me—whether that be one of my guests, or even Mr. Lockwood wanting my attention—then I slide the key into my front door and push it open as silently as I can manage.

  It’s closing in on five-thirty. The sun is about to crawl over the horizon, and Max will be waking at any point from now until seven— I’m hoping for seven, so I have time for coffee and a change of clothes.

  I tiptoe through the door and into my parlor entry, then closing that door, I make my way in silence around my table and toward the next door. I open that one too, while making mental plans to pour some fresh coffee and take it with me to the shower.

  My living room is dark, but the lights illuminating town shine through my floor-to-ceiling windows and make me smile. Stepping inside my apartment in silence, I turn back and close the door with the gentlest snick, then I turn left and head toward my kitchen.

  Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.

  Despite the enormity of everything that has happened in the last twelve or so hours, caffeine is the only thing my brain clutches to as I set my purse and keys down on the dining table. I withdraw my phone from my purse and carry it with me, but since I’m home and don’t need it at the moment, I switch it to silent and place it on the counter as I move toward the coffee machine.

  Planning to hit the switch and get it started, I groan when I find the top flap open—which means it’s not full—so I turn away with a deflated heart, knowing I have to fetch coffee grounds first.

  Moving toward the walk-in pantry, I swing the door wide in silence, take a single step in, and reach for the coffee I keep within close reach.

  “Here you go.” Arlo flicks the overhead light on and offers the bag with a grin bigger than even Nixon’s was. “Have a good time?”

  “Argh!” Screaming, I jump back and crash into the counter, then I cry out a second time when I slam the heel of my foot against the stone. “Cagna! Che diavolo c’è di sbagliato con te?”

  “I know you just said some mean things to me.” Arlo giggles so hard that she folds at the waist. “Cagna sounded especially unkind.”

  “Why would you hide in there?” I whisper-snarl, an attempt to not wake Max if my screams didn’t already. “You couldn’t sit at the counter like a normal person? Or better yet, be asleep!”

  “Ya know what?” Sniggering, Arlo saunters out of the pantry with the coffee still in her hand and goes to work supplying the machine. “I spent a good deal of last night deciding where I would hide, and how best to scare you.”

  “Why?” I demand. “Have you nothing better to do? Like care for my child?”

  “Psht.” She shrugs that off. “Max had an awesome night, and now he’s asleep. Which means my time was free, special for you.”

  “You’re a creep! Did you wait in there all night?”

  “God no,” she scoffs. “What I actually did was call Nadia last night and chat to her about where you were and why I was working late. Which then led me to talking to Abby. Which then—”

  “Oh god.”

  “So then I spoke to Spencer. Ya know, her husb—”

  “Yes, I know who her husband is!”

  “Sheesh.” Gritting her teeth, Arlo flips the coffee machine closed and hits the button to get it started. “Didn’t get much sleep last night?”

  “I will slaughter you where you stand.” Hobbling, I make my way to the stool on the opposite side of the counter. Away from Arlo, and away from the knives. Plopping down, I whimper at the ache in my foot. “You’re such a jerk.”

  “Well, in the spirit of not wasting a good story, imma finish it.” She flashes a wide grin when my eyes come up and pin her. “So I called Spencer, who just so happens to work for Checkmate security. You know who they are, right?”

  “Yes,” I snarl. “I know who they are.”

  “That’s a relief!” She makes an actual whew sound and risks her life as, behind her, the coffee machine sputters to life. “Seeing as how they secure this entire hotel. Anyway, I was in a six-way chat with Spencer, Nadia, Abby—”

  “Six-way?” I explode. “Who else was on that call, Arlo?”

  “Oh, well.” She lifts a hand and ticks names off with her fingers. “Me, Nadia, Abby, Spencer, Mitch, and Beckett.”

  “Oh god.” I bury my face in my hands and cry. “Whyyyy? Why would you do that?”

  “Well, Abby is married to Spence, so he was around. And we all know what Mitch does to Nadia in his spare time, so he was around.”

  “And Beckett?”

  “He asked me to call him with any juicy gossip.”

  “Arlo!”

  She jumps, squeaks, and turns to make herself busy taking down coffee mugs from the cabinet. “Anywho, we’re on the phone, and I happen to ask Spencer if he can put out some kind of alert when you step back inside this hotel. I didn’t want to waste my night staring out the window like a creep.”

  “So you had a six-way chat and ordered a security company to do it instead?”

  “Genius, right?” She glances over her shoulder. “So then I go to sleep, since sleep is important for growth and all that.” She places a hand on the top of her head and scrunches her nose. “I’m still a little short, but I’m praying I’m not done yet. So to sleepy-sleep I went, and you were thoughtful enough to allow me a whole night. I was expecting a two o’clock alarm. Maybe midnight, if Nixon blew it. But nope, I slept right through to twenty minutes ago, at which point, my phone beeped, and I jumped outta bed. I even had time to pee.”

  “Twenty minutes ago?” I push the heels of my hands into my eye sockets. “I wasn’t here twenty minutes ago.”

  “I know.” Impatient, Arlo swaps out the coffeepot and puts our mugs directly beneath the machine’s spout. “Spencer went ahead and tracked Nixon’s house, I guess… which gave me way more time to pee and all that. So then I was awake, my bladder was empty, and I was still warm in my jammies.” She looks down at the purple flannel she wears. “And now here we are.”
She grins, then takes the first full cup from beneath the coffee dispenser and brings it up to her own lips.

  When our eyes meet, and mine are full of hatred and homicidal thoughts, she lowers the mug once more and slides it along the counter. “Fresh for you.”

  I grunt and fist the hot cup between my hands. “You know you’re fired, right? This is completely inappropriate.”

  “Yup. But you and I have, like, a really unhealthy, abusive relationship; we both know I’ll be back tomorrow, and you’ll take me in because I hurt so good.”

  “There is seriously something wrong with you.” I sip the steaming coffee and moan at how good it feels.

  “So…?” As soon as her coffee is done, Arlo spins and drops her elbows to the counter on the side opposite from where I sit. She rests her chin on her hands and grins. “Spill the tea.”

  Confused, I place my coffee on the counter and stare down at the black liquid. “What?” I glance back up. “I don’t understand.”

  “Oh, I forgot.” She rolls her eyes. “This is like when you ask us to ‘sit on’ the table, instead of come to the table. What I mean is tell me everything! What happened last night? Was it good? Did your brain explode? How many times?” She scrunches her nose. “I have seriously high expectations of those Rosa men, so please tell me he knows how to do it right.”

  “You are a child! I’m not discussing this with you.”

  “I’m actually not a child,” she snickers. “I can vote and go to war. I’m just not allowed to be drunk while doing those things.”

  “I’m not telling you—”

  “Tell meeeee!”

  “Yes, he was fantastic,” I blurt out. “And romantic. And dirty. And sweet. And he cooks bad food really well. And he even washed my hair while we were in the tub. Then we talked all night when we weren’t…” I feel the blush warm my cheeks, “ya know. And I’m not going crazy, using crazy words, but I love… how much I like him. And I’m pretty certain he loves how much he likes me. And he tries soooo hard to make me happy. He thinks I’m some kind of prize to win.”

  Or a ribbon, I think to myself. A ribbon he’ll cherish for life.

  “He’s so kind.” I press my closed hand to my chest. “He’s so thoughtful, Arlo. And funny. And silly. But serious too. I think he’s able to be all of those things because he has so many siblings, and he has the best pieces of all of them.”

  “I love how much you like him too,” Arlo sighs. “I really, really do.”

  “He’s coming to dinner tonight.”

  “Here?” She stands tall once more and looks around my dark living space. “In this kitchen?”

  “Yes. We both have a busy day tomorrow, so it’ll be an early night, and he’ll go back to his home, while Max and I will stay here, so it’s not like… no funny business or craziness. But yes, he’s coming here for dinner, and I’m so freakin’ nervous, I might puke.”

  “Where’d you go last night?”

  “His house.”

  “No,” Arlo chuckles. “For dinner.”

  I nod. “His house. He’d made reservations for us someplace else, but I opted for home-cooked.”

  “Solid move.” She smirks, like we’re playing Battleship and I’ve just made a killer decision. “What’d he cook? Did he bake something? Or make pasta? Or did he go for some kind of mixed grill thing, to make sure he got something you liked? Or—”

  “Grilled cheese.”

  Arlo stops. Stills. Stares. “Come again?”

  “He made grilled cheese sandwiches,” I giggle. I giggle! Like a schoolgirl. “They were delicious.”

  “Girl! He made you grilled cheese, and you’re freaking out about hosting dinner tonight? Psht.” She waves me off and takes a sip of her coffee. “Toss some baked beans on toast for the guy and call it a day. You have no reason to be nervous.”

  “It was fantastic grilled cheese.”

  “So plunk a bunch of butter into his beans. He’ll go nuts.”

  “You’re nuts.” Shaking my head, I push off my stool and take my coffee with me as I spin away. “I’m going to have a shower. You can see yourself out or stay longer. Whatever, I don’t care.”

  “Such a thoughtful hostess,” Arlo snickers. She grabs her coffee too, and darts across the tile behind me.

  I head into the hall, and in silence, so as not to wake Max, she follows. I move toward my bedroom, expecting Arlo to veer off as we approach the guest bedroom, but when I step across the threshold to my bedroom and she’s still on my tail, I spin back and narrow my eyes.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Talking,” she whispers, and pushes into my room.

  When I don’t move, she takes the doorhandle and silently closes the door behind us to block Max from our noise.

  “Nice sweats, by the way. It’s always super sexy when a woman wears her man’s clothes.”

  “First of all,” I turn and move into my bathroom. “He’s not my man. He’s… my date, whom I really like. And second, you are absolutely not old enough to know about wearing a man’s clothes.”

  She snorts and follows me into the bathroom. “I have a wild past I’ve never told you about, Ms. Mazzi. Maybe someday I’ll share it with you.”

  I stop at my shower, flip the taps on, and turn back to study my innocent-looking nanny. “A wild past?”

  “Oh sure.” She leans against my vanity cabinet and sips her coffee. “I’ve ridden with motorcycle gangs, swallowed swords, and stolen from a major Vegas casino.”

  I look down at her legs, though of course, they’re covered in flannel. “Your kneecaps seem to be intact, Arlo. I feel like I don’t believe you.”

  She sips some more. “Drink with me sometime, and I’ll tell you everything. You may as well strip, by the way. You’re wasting water, and I’m not leaving.”

  “You’re not? Why the hell not?”

  She flashes a filthy smirk behind the lip of her mug. “I wanna know all the things.” She looks toward the corner of the ceiling and begins counting. “Ten, nine, eight—”

  “What are you doing? What happens when you reach zero?”

  “I never make it to zero. That’s a very important thing you should know about me. Also, when I’m done counting, I’m gonna look again. So if you’re half-naked and I see your butt, that’s on you, and grounds for sexual harassment in the workplace.”

  “You’re harassing me! Go away so I can shower.”

  “Seven, six, five…”

  “Argh!”

  I shove Nixon’s sweats down so they pool on the tile, then I fight his hoodie and tug my hair in the process. Panting from my workout, I dive into the shower when Arlo reaches three, and slamming the shower door, I pray the steam on the glass is enough to save us both from filing harassment charges.

  “I’m writing you up for this,” I growl.

  “Uh huh.” Her eyes come back to mine and don’t stray lower. “How in like are you?”

  I roll my eyes and groan under the pulsing heat of the water. “I didn’t express myself enough already with the romantic and dirty and sweet stuff?”

  “Well,” she shrugs. “I guess you did. And you’re seeing him again tonight?”

  “Yeah. It’s just a friendly thing. Casual, because I don’t want to confuse or overwhelm Max.”

  “Uh huh. You’ll be engaged in two months.”

  My ears perk up, then my eyes whip to hers. “Huh?”

  She grins. “Nothing. So, casual? Meeting Max, hanging out, watching a movie type of casual?”

  “Well, he and Max have already met, obviously. But si, the rest is accurate.”

  “Super casual, then.” She nods. “Okay, no need to panic about what to cook. You could order pizza, and that would be enough.”

  “You think?”

  “Totally. If you wanna take it up a step, you could probably cook the pizza yourself. That would impress a dude for sure.”

  “Do I want to impress him?”

  “For self-worth?” She shakes her
head. “Absolutely not. But to be smug? Heck yeah. Alternatively, I know he likes Mexican food, and tacos are way easy to make.”

  “How do you know this about him?”

  “Because he’s sexy, I have eyes, and before you came sniffing around, he was single. A girl’s gonna look.”

  “Wait.” I open the shower door and meet her gaze. “Did I cut in line and mess something up for you?”

  “Nah.” She warms her hands on her coffee mug. “The second we met, he called me kiddo and sister-zoned me. There was no climbing up from there.”

  “Well… that was his move. But what about you? How did you feel?”

  “Like my new brother is sexy, and I get no-strings-attached hugs on movie night,” she snickers. “Totally awesome trade, and since he adopted me as family, whoever he marries in the future can’t come along and push me out of my seat. He’s my bro now, and she can’t do a damn thing about the squishy hugs he gives when I ask for them.”

  I lift a brow and close the shower door slowly. “Do you ask for them regularly?”

  She grins behind her mug. “Making you jealous for the rest of our natural lives is going to be a hell of a lot of fun. Also, it would look bad to your boyfriend if you fired his second-favorite baby sister, so you’re gonna need to tone down that nonsense.”

  “Or, ya know, you could try for a little professionalism and tact.”

  “It would be a sin against my soul to change who I am to fit your box, Ms. Mazzi. But nice try.”

  I roll my eyes and pump soap into my hands. “I don’t know who I hurt in another life to deserve this, but I’m sorry. Truly, I am.”

  Arlo scoffs. “You adore me. What time is Nixon getting here tonight?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve barely been home for ten minutes, and not a single one of them has been silent so I can think.”

  “Chop-chop,” she snaps her fingers. “You gotta be able to think under pressure. The world ain’t gonna slow down or lower the volume just for you. Text him when we’re done in here and tell him to come at six.”

  “When we’re done in here?” I ask incredulously. “And why six?”