The Men On Fire: A Complete Romance Series (3-Book Box Set)

by Samantha Christy

  “How come you never married?”

  She shrugs. “I guess we always planned to, but we were so young. He wanted to wait until he graduated college. Then when Dahlia was born and we had to deal with all her medical issues, we drifted apart. It’s hard to put all your energy into your sick child and have anything left to give a partner. But I’m glad we never married. We didn’t have to go through a divorce. And we’re still friends. He’s one of my best friends, in fact.”

  I realize she’s not crying. But maybe it’s because she’s talking about her ex and not so much her child. Or one of her children.

  “You said you lost two children. Will you tell me about both of them?”

  She nods, swallowing what must be a lump in her throat. “How much time do you have?” she says with a sad smile.

  “All the time in the world.”

  She takes another drink and sinks down into the pillow. I lie next to her and pull her head onto my chest as she wraps an arm over me.

  “Eli and I were high school sweethearts. We started dating when I was sixteen. Senior year, I got pregnant by accident. But we were excited about having a baby all the same. We had so many plans. I was going to work for my parents, of course, and Eli was going to get his teaching degree at a local college. We lost the baby shortly after graduation. I was only thirty-one weeks along.”

  She tenses up and I feel hot tears drop onto my chest. I squeeze her tightly. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to talk about it.”

  “No, I do. I … I want you to know.”

  I kiss her on the top of her head. “Okay.”

  “When I got to the hospital, they told me the baby had died. They couldn’t find a heartbeat. The worst part was that I had to go through labor knowing I was going to deliver my dead child. But he was perfect. Tiny, but perfect. He had ten fingers and ten toes. They let me hold him. They even let us bury him. They said it would help with the grieving process.”

  She shakes her head and I feel more tears drop on my chest. “It didn’t help. I know some people thought it was a blessing. That we were too young to have a baby and this was nature’s way of righting a wrong. But it wasn’t wrong, Bass. I loved him. I loved him so much.”

  “Of course you did,” I say, running a soothing hand down her back as she sobs into me.

  “Nobody could understand why I was so sad. Nobody but Eli. Because he’s the only other person who loved Jonah as much as I did.”

  “Jonah,” I say. “That’s a good name. A strong name.”

  She nods. “I thought so, too. Eli wouldn’t let me name him anything like what my parents named my siblings and me. When I first got pregnant, he used to joke about me naming our son Oak or Maple.”

  I laugh. “I’m going to have to agree with Eli on that one.”

  “I think you’d like him, Bass. He’s not big like you. And he’s not anything fancy like a firefighter. He teaches middle-school English. But he’s a good person.”

  “Of course he is. He chose you.”

  “I … I don’t love him anymore if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “I wasn’t wondering.”

  “I did, though, back then. As much as teenagers can love one another. And I really did think we made the right choice to have another baby. Everyone else was mad at us, barely eighteen years old and choosing to get pregnant. But we were happy again. We knew another baby wouldn’t replace Jonah, but it would bring us joy, and that’s what we needed.”

  Her body trembles almost uncontrollably. She has a hard time getting her words out. “We … we had n-no idea we were making the w-worst decision of our lives. Eli and I did it to her. We made Dahlia the way she was.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true,” I say, holding her tightly against me. “I’m sure that whatever happened wasn’t your fault.”

  She shakes her head. “No, it was. It was entirely our fault. And it’s just one more reason why Eli and I can’t be together.”

  Sobs bellow out of her and for minutes she cries, clawing at me like she can’t get close enough. I kiss her hair. I run a hand down her back. I massage her shoulder. And eventually, her breathing evens out and she falls asleep.

  I lie awake, stunned. I don’t even know the entire story yet, but what I do know is she has been through two horrible tragedies. No wonder she is the way she is. I have no idea how to comfort her. I see a lot of tragedy in my profession. But we never get to hang around to offer more than a few minutes of comfort to our victims or their families. I want to help Ivy. But I’m not sure how to do that without making things worse for her.

  When Ivy rolls off me and onto the pillow, I grab my phone and head to the balcony. I know exactly who to call for advice. It’s still the middle of the night here, but it’s 9:30 a.m. back in New York.

  Brady answers on the first ring. “You miss me so much you had to call all the way from Hawaii?”

  I laugh quietly, not wanting Ivy to hear me. “You wish. No, I’ve got a big problem, man.”

  Brady Taylor is best friends with Penny’s fiancé. He plays ball for the New York Nighthawks. We’ve become friends ourselves over the past year. And he’s been through more tragedy than anyone I’ve ever known. Until meeting Ivy, that is.

  “What’s up?” he asks.

  “I don’t mean to dig up old demons, but I need help. Someone important to me has suffered a huge loss. She’s lost two children. She just started to open up to me about it tonight. And I don’t want to push her away. But I also don’t want her to keep it all inside because I can see it’s killing her.”

  “Damn.” I can hear the pain in his voice. “I’m sure it is killing her. I know we all grieve differently, and I only have my own experience to go by, but what I can tell you is I didn’t start to heal until I talked about it. And I almost lost Rylee because I didn’t want to let her in. I guess what I’m saying is that sometimes people might need a little push to get them where they need to be.”

  I nod. “Thanks, man.”

  “Just how important is this woman to you?”

  “Very,” I say. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her.”

  “Just how long have you been in Hawaii?” he asks.

  “Eleven days. I know it’s fast, but—”

  “Hey, when you know, you know. There’s no set time limit on how long it takes to fall in love, Bass.”

  “I guess. The problem is, she doesn’t feel the same way.”

  “Are you sure about that? You said she started to open up to you. People who have lived through what she did, what I did—we don’t talk to just anyone about it.”

  “I can only hope you’re right. Hey, thanks for the talk. I have to go. I have some flower pancakes to order.”

  “Some what?” he asks.

  I laugh. “Nothing. Thanks, Brady.”

  “Anytime.”

  I sit on the balcony for hours, waiting for the sun to come up, thinking about the woman sleeping in my bed, wondering if I’ll be able to push her just enough, but not too far. Then I pick up my phone and call room service, hoping they will be able to honor my crazy request.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ivy

  I awaken to the smell of my favorite breakfast. I look around the room as the events of last night come rushing back to me. Bass is sitting on the couch, tapping around on his phone. He looks up at me and gives me a sympathetic smile.

  He knows I’m broken. And he hasn’t even heard all of it. I wonder if he will think I’m too much of a basket case to take on. Maybe this whole time, when I’ve been falling in love with him, he’s been realizing he’s not so disappointed anymore about not being with me when we go back to New York.

  He puts down his phone, looking somewhat nervous.

  “I ordered breakfast,” he says.

  I smile. “I can smell it. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” he says.

  I cock my head to the side and then get out of bed and walk over to the table with the domed sil
ver tray. I laugh before I remove the lid. “Why, did you eat them all?”

  The lid comes off to reveal a plateful of pancakes in the shapes of flowers. There are even small pieces of berries in the middle of each one.

  I swallow my tears and take in a deep breath. “Well, are you going to join me?” I ask.

  “Absolutely,” he says.

  Bass gets off the couch and picks up the tray, carrying it out to the balcony.

  “I’ll be right out,” I tell him. “Just let me wash up.”

  I use the toilet and then when I’m washing my hands, I notice how puffy my eyes are. I splash cold water on my face, wishing I had some makeup here to cover the bags under my eyes. I take a few calming breaths and study myself in the mirror. “You can do this,” I say to my reflection.

  I wanted to tell him everything last night, but I was just too exhausted. He needs to hear it. I need to say it. And then maybe we can both figure out what to do next.

  “There you are,” he says when I open the balcony door to join him.

  I see a vase on the balcony table. And it’s got a bunch of daisies in it. “Did you get these?” I ask.

  “Well, I requested roses. But they said this was all they had at seven in the morning. I hope it’s okay.”

  I pluck one of the flowers from the vase and study it, thinking about how these particular flowers keep finding me. It’s like they’re following me.

  “Daisies were her favorite flower,” I tell him. “You’d think dahlias would have been. I mean they smell better and they’re prettier, not to mention she was named after one. But no, my daughter picked the flower a lot of farmers despise because it can overrun their pastures.”

  Bass reaches out to grab my hand, then he tugs me down onto his lap. “You’re so sexy when you talk shop. Tell me more.”

  I giggle and shimmy around on his lap. “Okay—did you know that daisies grow everywhere except Antarctica? Also, a daisy is actually two flowers in one. The white petals are one flower and this yellow cluster of tiny disc petals is another. Oh, and did you know you can eat the petals? They’re high in vitamin C.” I trace the petals with my finger. “The daisy represents purity and innocence.”

  “I think your daughter had good taste,” he says.

  I nod. “I think you’re right.”

  I stare at the daisy, remembering her words. Then I look at Bass. Maybe Dahlia was right. Maybe daisies do make things better. Things are better. Aren’t they?

  Bass pours some syrup on the pancakes and then cuts a piece off, feeding it to me.

  I try not to cry as I eat. This is the first time I’ve eaten flower pancakes since she died. I think he gets that I can’t talk right now. He alternates feeding himself and me, and we eat our entire breakfast in silence. I know why he did this. He wants me to see I can still do the things I enjoyed with Dahlia. He wants me to see I didn’t die along with her. With Jonah.

  When we’re done eating, I settle back into his arms and look out at the view. “She planned this entire trip,” I tell him. “We spent a lot of time in the hospital, and one of the things we would do to pass the time was fantasize about places we wanted to visit and research them. She didn’t go to pre-school or kindergarten like other kids. She was in and out of hospitals too much. So Eli and I taught her how to read and write. She was way ahead of other kids her age. God, she was smart.”

  A lump forms in my throat.

  Bass runs his hand up and down my back. “So she picked Hawaii. Did she specifically choose this island?”

  “She did. And when we researched it and saw all the waterfalls, she fell in love with Kauai. And of course, she loved flowers, so that was just an added bonus. She made a list of everything we were supposed to do.”

  I close my eyes, trying to stave off the tears. “But she was smart. I think she knew what was happening to her before we did. She knew she would never go on this trip. She knew she was planning it just for me.”

  Bass kisses the side of my head. “It sounds like she was one hell of a little girl.”

  I nod over and over. “She was incredible.”

  “Ivy, why did you say it was yours and Eli’s fault that your children died?”

  “Eli and I both carry a recessive gene for polycystic kidney disease. When that happens, and you have a baby, they can end up with the disease. Not all the time. Half of the time the babies will only be a carrier. Twenty-five percent of the time they won’t be a carrier and will be perfectly fine. But the other twenty-five percent will get the disease.”

  “And you both knew you were carriers?” he asks.

  “No, we didn’t.”

  “Then how could you be to blame? Hell, you wouldn’t be to blame even if you did know.”

  I get what he’s saying. It’s the same thing my parents and the doctors said. But the truth is, I did this to her. To them. If they’d had other parents, they would have lived.

  “When Jonah was stillborn, they told us that sometimes those things happen. They asked if we wanted an autopsy, but they said it wasn’t necessary. They said most people don’t get one because it just delays the grieving process. So we didn’t get one. If we had, they would have found out why he died. But part of me is glad we didn’t. Because if we’d known, we might not have had Dahlia. And as guilty as I feel for putting her through what she went through, I can’t imagine never having those years with her.” I belt out a sob. “She was the best thing that ever happened to me. And also, the worst.”

  “You said something about a transplant?” he asks.

  “She had a kidney transplant when she was two. But when she was five, it started to fail, and … and …”

  Bass grips me tightly. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anymore. Thank you for trusting me with your story.”

  “I had to tell you,” I say. “I had a dream about her last night and when I woke up, I knew I wanted you to know. I wanted you to know all the worst things about me. Because I lied when I said I didn’t want to be with you longer than in Hawaii. But it wasn’t fair of me to ask you for more unless you knew how … broken I am.”

  “Ivy, you’re not broken. Terrible things have happened to you and the ones you loved. And it’s still very fresh. You can’t be expected to bounce back from losses like that and be a normal twenty-four-year-old.”

  “If my brother were here, he would tell you I wasn’t normal even before that,” I say.

  “A joke?” he says, laughing. “You made a joke?” He looks at me with sympathy. With passion. With love.

  Then he takes my face into his hands and stares into my eyes. “I know I promised not to use the L-word, but I’m not sure it’s a promise I’ll be able to keep.”

  “Good,” I say, a happy tear escaping my eye. “Because I just might want to use the L-word myself.”

  He pulls my face to his. He kisses me softly, gently, passionately. And his kisses tell me far more than any words ever could.

  When we finally break apart to catch our breath, I ask him, “Stay with me.”

  “You want me to stay at your place for the next four nights? Because I’m totally down with that. Nothing would make me happier.”

  “Stay with me even after that,” I beg. “Can you? Can you extend your vacation? Can you stay with me for another week? Longer even. You don’t need any money. I’ll pay for everything.”

  He looks at me sadly. “Sweetheart, I have a job to get back to. One that I love. And they need me. If we’re short on shift, lives could be at stake. I wish I could say yes, but I can’t. I have to go back on Friday.”

  I turn around in his lap and lean back into him as he wraps me in his arms again.

  “I’m scared,” I say. “Everything is different here. I’m different here. As bad as I am now, I was worse back home. Most days, I couldn’t get out of bed. What if … what if I can’t do this back in New York?”

  “If you don’t feel you can do it, I’ll wait.”

  I crane my neck around and look into his eyes. “B
ut for how long?” I ask. “How long are you willing to wait?”

  “Long,” he says, running his thumb under my eye to catch another tear. “Because I’m pretty sure you’re worth waiting for, Ivy Greene.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sebastian

  I stare at the screen on my phone, wondering how anyone could watch a child go through five and a half years of what Dahlia went through. ARPKD is a horrible disease that can affect almost every major organ in the body. It’s not just kidney disease, it can cause liver failure, abnormalities of the heart, breathing problems, hypertension, anemia, and a long list of other complications.

  My heart goes out to Ivy. She was looking for joy. For a way to overcome the sadness she felt after losing her first baby. And all she got was heartache. She went through hell. How does someone come back from that?

  Then I think about Brady Taylor and everything he lost. It’s not that he’s forgotten what happened, he’s just learned to deal with it in a way that allows him to live a happy life.

  I’ve seen Ivy smile. I’ve heard her laugh even. And there are fleeting moments when I swear she’s happy. But then it’s like a light switches off. I think whenever she catches herself being happy, she must feel guilty. I promise myself to do everything I can to help her get past that guilt. It’s the guilt that is holding her prisoner, I’m sure of it.

  I pack up the rest of my things and head down to the parking garage with my one large suitcase, my backpack, and my guitar. I plan to get the most out of these last four days with her. I have no idea what to expect after we go home. She doesn’t want to leave the island, that’s for sure. I think if she had her way, she’d stay here forever. Maybe she will. Maybe she’ll decide going back to where her daughter died is too painful.

  My phone rings before I start the engine. It’s Aspen.

  “Hey. What’s up?”

  She squeals several unintelligible sentences into my ear.

  “Slow down, Penny. Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is great!” she shrieks. “They caught them, Bass. They caught the two guys who set up Denver. He’s free. Can you believe it? He can go back to being a normal person now.”