The Candle Palace

by Devney Perry

  “Crazy how?”

  “One of my best friends was kidnapped.”

  “What?” My jaw dropped. “How? Who? When?”

  “Couple weeks ago.”

  “A couple of weeks?” We’d been talking for hours every single night. This seemed like something kind of important to mention. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He shrugged. “It’s been hard to get my head wrapped around it all. I think I was still trying to process it.”

  “Is your friend okay?”

  “Yeah. Maisy’s good. Or she will be. She’s tough.”

  “Did they find the person who took her?”

  He nodded. “It was her fucking ex. She got pregnant and he didn’t want to raise the kid. Fine, right? I mean, he’s an asshole. But whatever. Then he fucking took her and tried to kill her.”

  “Wow.” What else was there to say? This was . . . unbelievable.

  “She’s a nurse. Everett, that’s the ex, he was a doctor. It’s been hard to connect all of the dots from this hospital bed and piece together exactly what happened. But mostly, I feel bad I wasn’t there to help. Maybe if I had been there, you know? Maisy’s mom and my mom are best friends. She’s a little younger than I am but I always tried to look out for her.”

  “Sounds like this doctor was deranged. It’s hard to stop someone beyond the brink of sanity.”

  Hearing about Maisy made my irritation with Dr. Vernon seem trivial. He was annoying and pushy, but not crazy. Dr. Vernon wasn’t going to kidnap me and attempt to murder me because I wouldn’t go out with him. Right?

  Right.

  “It’s still frustrating,” Milo said. “I’m mostly tired of being trapped in this bed.”

  “I don’t blame you.” I reached out and put my hand over his. His thumb instantly began stroking my knuckles. “Maybe you should call her. Maisy. I can say from personal experience your phone voice is comforting. I bet she’d like to hear from you.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  “So does Prescott always have this kind of illegal activity?” I teased. “It sounds like a pretty intense little town.”

  “Nah. Prescott is wonderful. I don’t want you to think it’s a hotbed for criminals. I spend most of my time pulling over tourists for speeding or breaking up keg parties with the high school’s seniors. It’s a nice town. Friendly. Genuine.”

  “Maybe I’ll visit it one day.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Maybe one day after he left, I’d take a vacation worth boasting about. I wouldn’t sit at home in my house, I’d go somewhere exciting. Like Prescott, Montana.

  “So what’s next for our Valentine’s date?” he asked.

  “Well, dinner is over. I hadn’t planned anything else.”

  “How about a movie?”

  “Dinner and a movie? How classic.” I handed him the TV remote and stood from the bed.

  “Wait, where are you going?”

  “My chair.” I pointed to it in the corner.

  “No.” He shifted carefully to the far edge of the bed. “Not tonight.”

  “Oh, okay.” My heart went from normal to racing in a snap. I took my place at his side, sticking close to my edge of the bed so I wouldn’t crowd him or his wounds. One leg was hanging off toward the floor. My elbow was braced under my side, stiffly keeping my balance.

  There was no way I’d make it through a whole movie like this. My arm would be asleep in twenty minutes.

  “I’m not going to bite,” Milo teased. “Get over here.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.”

  I inched closer, lining up my right side with his left. We were touching. Shoulder to shoulder. Hip to hip. Thigh to thigh. The contact made me nervous. My breath was coming in short pants and I couldn’t fill my lungs. The heat from Milo’s side was scorching.

  God, his smell. He smelled so . . . male. I couldn’t describe it better. It was comforting and exhilarating. It was unlike anything I’d ever smelled before.

  Milo turned on the television, finding a channel with a romantic comedy. “This okay?”

  “Um . . . sure.”

  I knew this movie. It was one I’d watched a dozen times. And it had one of the hottest sex scenes I’d ever seen in a PG-13 movie. How was I supposed to watch an on-screen couple romping naked in bed while I was sitting this close to Milo?

  The movie flew by like it was on fast-forward and, as the scene approached, I fought to keep myself from squirming. Maybe I could go to the bathroom during the scene. Or take out the garbage. Stuck in my own head, I hadn’t given myself enough time to make a decent excuse. The sex scene started before I was ready and my face flamed.

  The couple’s kiss was hot and wet as they stripped one another bare. They were wild for one another. Frantic.

  I wanted to kiss Milo with the same reckless abandon. I wanted to feel his soft lips on my skin. To have those fingers roam my curves and cup my breasts. I wanted the heat of his skin to brand my own.

  A deep throb settled in my core, a sensation not caused by the movie, but by this incredible man at my side. It pulsed so hard I was sure he could feel it shaking the bed. It was nearly as strong as my heartbeat, thundering through all my veins.

  Thump. Pulse. Thump. Pulse.

  I crossed one ankle over the other, squeezing my thighs together. Stop it. Oh, please stop.

  This ache was torture. The one man I wanted with every breath I took I couldn’t touch. At least, not until he was no longer a patient here. And then, he’d be gone. Back to Prescott, Montana, a town that, despite its recent troubles, sounded remarkably appealing.

  Would I get one kiss before he left? Just give me one. One kiss to remember forever.

  “Sara.” Milo’s whisper startled me.

  “Yeah.” I kept my eyes on the screen.

  “Look at me.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t.”

  If I looked at him, I’d kiss him. I’d throw all inhibitions aside and lose myself entirely.

  “Sara.” Milo’s hand came up to my cheek, framing it. His palm was hot as he slowly turned my chin so I had no choice but to meet his gaze.

  It broke me.

  “It’s killing me not to kiss you,” he said.

  “It is?”

  He gave me a single nod, his eyes dropping to study my lips.

  My tongue darted out, wetting the bottom lip, and he groaned, the hand on my cheek flexing.

  “Right now, we can say we’re just friends. If I do this, you could lose your job.”

  “Are we just friends?”

  “Fuck no.”

  Two words, so crude and romantic, I nearly wept. “They can fire me.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Only if they catch us.”

  His lips smashed down on mine and my breath vanished as the sparks enveloped us. I parted my mouth, letting his tongue sweep in and explore the contours of my mouth. The salt from dinner lingered, mixing with the sweet taste of his kiss.

  He angled his head and then mine, his hand drifting into my hair. The moment his fingers threaded through the silky strands, he moaned.

  I’d worn my hair down tonight. I’d left everything the same after work, my scrubs, thermal undershirt and tennis shoes, so I could hurry to get our dinner. But I’d taken five minutes to comb out my hair.

  I loved that he liked it. I loved that he toyed with it while his tongue dueled with mine.

  “Sara,” he panted against my lips. “God, Sara.”

  I angled my hips toward his, wanting to get closer. I so badly wanted to snuggle into his chest, to press us together, but with his burns, I stayed away, making sure not to hurt him.

  The kiss lasted for what felt like hours. It was wet and hot. My lips were swollen and raw. Milo would kiss me fast, then slow it down until I was practically vibrating on the bed, aching to get closer but knowing I had to stay away.

  Beneath the thin blanket, there was no hiding his arousal. I caught t
he bulge from the corner of my eye and nearly pulled my lips away to get a better look.

  Milo was not a small man. He was tall and, though lean, had a large presence. And clearly, things were proportional. Long legs. Big feet. Strong hands.

  He broke away first, yanking his mouth from mine. “We’d better slow down.”

  “Right,” I panted. “Okay. Good idea. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  I’d been moments away from saying to hell with it all and climbing on his lap. At the very least, I’d been about to strip off that blanket, yank down his boxers and give him a full-body inspection.

  I wiped my mouth dry, but Milo kept his hand in my hair, he kept me close. Then his other hand dove into my locks too, threading it between his fingers. “Your hair is like silk. I’ve never felt anything so soft.”

  “It’s my conditioner.”

  “It’s you.” He locked his eyes with mine, then dropped his forehead to mine. “I’m going to kiss you again. As soon as I get out of this hospital bed.”

  “Good.” I smiled. “Unless they catch us and fire me.”

  He chuckled. “Unless they fire you.”

  At the moment, that didn’t sound all that bad.

  Seven

  “Sara?” Kym poked her head into the patient room where I was washing my hands.

  “One second.” I shook off the water droplets into the sink and grabbed a paper towel. Then I dried my hands while staring at my patient, who had already forgotten my visit and was glued to his phone. “See you in a while.”

  “Uh-huh,” he mumbled.

  This guy had been here for the past week, and in the days I’d been working, he’d maybe spoken three sentences. His mind had been abducted by the video game on his phone.

  “Shit,” he cursed at the screen, his thumbs flying.

  I rolled my eyes, then left the room to talk to Kym. “What’s up?”

  “You have a visitor.”

  “A visitor?” Who would come here to see me?

  My heart dropped. Amber. It had to be Amber. No one ever came to see me. Had she found out about Valentine’s Day? Was she here to fire me?

  My stomach twisted in knots as Kym and I walked to the nurses station. With my fingers clenched together, I tried to keep my breath steady but I was having a mild panic attack.

  After Milo had kissed me, I’d been okay risking my job. But then I’d had to buy groceries. And gas. And pay my power bill.

  I really needed power. I loved running water.

  So I needed my job.

  Sure, I could find another one, but I wanted to work here. Especially during the final weeks of Milo’s stay. Once he left, I wasn’t sure when I’d get to see him again.

  The short walk to the nurses station felt like a slow death march to the guillotine.

  I scanned the area for Amber, expecting her to be waiting in one of the chairs. But the seats were both empty.

  “Over there.” Kym pointed across the counter to an alcove on the opposite side of the elevator. It was our tiny waiting room with only one upholstered bench and two chairs with skinny wooden arms.

  It wasn’t Amber waiting for me.

  “Mom?”

  She looked up from her phone and stood from the bench. “My car broke down.”

  No hello. No smile. Just my car broke down.

  “Okay.” I met her on the other side of the counter.

  The smell of fresh cigarette smoke filled the air around us and I scooted away. I hated how it stuck to me so quickly. It seeped into my scrubs and latched onto my hair. As a kid, I’d worn my hair up not because I liked the ponytail, but because it was the only way I wouldn’t smell Mom’s and Dad’s cigarette smoke. I don’t think I even realized it at the time. It wasn’t until years later, after living in a smoke-free home, I realized how much it had bothered me.

  Especially now, because that smell was associated with his death.

  “I need your keys.” Mom snapped her fingers, leaving her palm outstretched.

  “My keys?”

  “Yeah. My car broke down about two blocks from here so I just walked over. The tow is coming but I’m not going to wait outside in the cold. I’ll go to your condo and wait.”

  No. Not a chance in hell.

  Mom would smoke inside my condo. She’d poke around and gather up a list of things to criticize. My bed had too many pillows. My couch was too firm. My fridge was too empty. Those were the three objections she’d come up with the one and only time she’d been at my place. She’d taken a lap around the condo and in less than ten minutes had a list of critiques a foot long.

  I couldn’t even begin to imagine what she’d come up with if left there alone for thirty minutes.

  “Where is your car?” I asked.

  “On Bernard.”

  That was two blocks in the opposite direction of my place. “Then you should wait here. It’s closer than going all the way to my place only to backtrack.”

  She frowned and dropped her hand. “Fine. I’ll call your brother.”

  “What? No. Why?” If she had a tow coming, why would she need to call Denny? I didn’t need them both here.

  “Sara?”

  I glanced over my shoulder and held in a grumble. “Oh, uh . . . hi, Dr. Vernon.”

  That came out nice, didn’t it? It had been a struggle to keep the irritation with him out of my daily interactions. If my smiles aimed in his direction were forced, he didn’t seem to notice.

  “Hello.” He smiled at Mom and her entire frame straightened.

  “Doctor?” She held out her hand, batting her eyelashes as he shook it. “You’re too young to be a doctor.”

  Puke. Was she really hitting on him?

  He chuckled. “I am a believer that good skin care is not just for women. I owe my youthful looks to a lifetime of serums and the occasional injection.”

  He probably had a syringe of Botox in his desk drawer.

  Too busy hiding my eye rolls and gags, I didn’t realize both Dr. Vernon and Mom were staring at me and waiting for an introduction.

  “Oh, sorry. Dr. Vernon, this is my mom, Abby. Mom, this is Dr. Vernon. He’s the burn specialist here at the hospital.”

  “And across Spokane County,” he added, playfully nudging my shoulder.

  Right. Because he made so many house calls outside of these walls.

  Sara! My inner sass was running rampant and if I wasn’t careful, a snarky comment was going to slip. Then I really would be getting a visit from Amber and a security escort from the building.

  “To what do we owe the pleasure?” Dr. Vernon asked Mom.

  “Oh, my silly car broke down.” She smoothed down one side of her platinum-blond hair, shimmying her shoulders ever so slightly so the unzipped jacket she was wearing fell open a bit more.

  Mom was a beautiful woman and she knew it. Other than the smoking, she took excellent care of herself, and she flaunted her body, hoping for attention.

  I’d often wondered if that was why Dad had noticed her in the first place. He had been as down-to-earth a person as I’d ever met. He was humble and kind. He didn’t need flashy cars or designer clothes. But for Dad as a younger man, I could see how having a woman like Mom on his arm would boost any man’s ego.

  When they’d met, her hair had been the same color as mine. He loved that color, he’d told me often. He’d always said it set her apart.

  It set me apart.

  Mom’s green eyes were like mine too. They were always bright, framed with long black lashes that pulled you in. Dr. Vernon wasn’t immune to her allure and he inched her way. Did he even know he was doing it?

  Probably not. His gaze lingered on her face, those eyes and her full lips that were always painted a soft shade of peach. To me, it was an innocent color. But Dr. Vernon stared at Mom’s lips like he expected a string of wicked and dirty words to come from her coral pout. He didn’t pass on the cleavage she had on display either.

  Her appearance had never failed to lure in a fish.
<
br />   And she had her hook baited for Dr. Vernon.

  “Can you believe Sara has never invited me to visit her here at work, Dr. Vernon?” She stroked his arm, her red nails leaving imaginary claw marks on his white lab coat. “She’s been working here for years and I’m just now meeting her coworkers.”

  “A burn unit is not the place for a family reunion, Mom.”

  “Oh, Sara.” She laughed. “There’s no harm in having family stop by to say hello.”

  Yet, she hadn’t said hello. I didn’t respond as I gave her a tight smile.

  “So, your car?” Dr. Vernon asked her.

  “Yes.” She sighed dramatically. “It’s caused me so much trouble and it isn’t even a year old. I think I was suckered into a lemon. You know how those car salesmen can be. They take advantage of women.”

  And now she was playing the damsel in distress.

  “That’s horrible.” Dr. Vernon clicked his tongue, his eyes drifting to Mom’s breasts again. “If you decide to trade it in, I’d be happy to go with you. As a favor to Sara, of course.”

  “Right. Of course. It’s so wonderful she has such nice friends at work. Thank you, Dr. Vernon.”

  “Call me Greg.” He extended his hand so they could shake. Again.

  “Mom, I’d love to talk, but I really do have to get back to work. Healing patients and all.”

  “It’s fine.” She waved me off with her free hand since the other was still holding on to Greg.

  “Will you wait here? Or downstairs? Or . . . what?”

  She let go of Dr. Vernon’s hand and waved me away. “I texted your brother.”

  “You texted Denny but you came here to get the keys to wait at my place?”

  “I didn’t feel like walking anymore. I’m chilled to the bone.”

  “It’s three blocks.”

  “I’m cold.” She pointed a long finger to her knee-high stilettos. “And these are four-inch heels. It’s icy out. Do you want me to break my neck? I barely survived getting here.”

  “Okay,” I muttered. “Fine. So is Denny coming here?”

  Mom opened up her phone to check her texts. “He’s already on his way.”

  Ugh. Denny was unpredictable at best. Since he’d moved in with Mom at New Year’s, I’d seen him three times. Once for dinner. Then another time when I’d dropped off a vase of flowers for Mom’s birthday in January. Then this past week when Mom had called and said she’d found a box of my things in the basement.