by R. S. Elliot
My God, he’s even more gorgeous in daylight.
Instead of the bulky pants and coat he’d worn most of the night during the fire, he now sported a pair of jeans and t-shirt. Both fit against his body as if tailored to his physique alone. And damn, what a body it was.
I resisted every urge that told me to touch him, to feel the solid muscles of his chest pressed against me once again. I wanted his arms around me, holding me the way he had that night.
When he’d almost kissed me.
Or so I thought.
“What?” I asked, completely forgetting what he had said.
“You looked lost in thought,” he said, a smile playing at his lips. Somewhere in the tiny cafe, I thought I heard a woman swoon.
My God, this man is dangerous.
“Yes. Well, there is a lot to be worried about.”
Was that the best I could come up with? That didn’t even make sense. I mean who didn’t have a lot to worry about?
Dammit, I was Lyndsey Saunders. I had my pick of any man I wanted—the mistress of seduction. I did not blather on like a fool in front of a mildly attractive man.
Well, not mildly attractive. The man could be a freaking underwear model. If they ever did a fireman’s calendar, I would totally buy one.
“I just mean, I have a lot on my mind lately.” I stammered through my response, turning back to speak to the lady behind the counter. “Pick up order for Elizabeth, please.”
The woman nodded and went off in search of my mother’s lunch order. The heat of the man’s body behind me struck a nerve in the core of my stomach. My pulse hammered in my throat, and I took a breath to steady myself.
A second woman appeared from behind the counter, craning her neck around me to see the firefighter. “Hunter, what can I get you?”
“Hey, Jenny,” he said, and passed in front of me to approach the glass case holding all the pastries. “I’ll take two of these and one of whatever’s just come out of the oven.”
It took all the strength within me not to sneak a peek at his ass, and yet, I still failed. I wasn’t mad though. I’d never been so swiftly rewarded for doing the wrong thing in my life. A man like this was always a problem. Perfectly put together, and perfectly aware of how attractive he was to women. He was not the type of man I should be pursuing at the moment—gorgeous with the ability to set my body alight with one look, one touch.
Temporary.
They always were. Men like him were more interested in the chase than they were with settling down. Not that I was entirely interested in settling down either. For that very reason, he was everything I should avoid. Especially if I wanted my parents to take me seriously.
But that ass though.
I bit my lip and tried to focus on other things. My eyes flew to the menu, to the basic Parisian decor, anything to distract from the well-crafted male specimen in front of me.
“Enjoying the view?” he asked suddenly.
My heart tripped. Warmth flooded my cheeks. There was no way he had seen me. I looked up at him, but he was still staring down at the pastries in the glass case. “What?”
He tapped one knuckle against the glass, then turned to face me. That same devilish smile curled his lips upward, and I had to remind myself to breathe. “The glass reflects, you know.”
This was not my week.
I flipped one errant curl back over my shoulder. He could make well-founded accusations all he wanted, but there was no way I was admitting to ogling him like some cheap piece of meat. “And you just assumed that I was looking at you?”
“Weren’t you?” He tilted his head to the side. “It’s ok. You wouldn’t be the first.”
I turned my head to the side. I couldn’t look at him. If I wasn’t wearing so much damn makeup, my face would probably look like a tomato. “I’m sure.”
“It’s okay to admit you’re attracted to me,” he said.
The blush ran deeper. He was so full of himself. And yet, he wasn’t wrong.
“I never said—,” I stammered, trying to concoct some other response that didn’t have me sounding like a ten-year-old girl denying she likes her secret crush. My head twisted from side to side, searching for the nearest exit. There was only one way out of this situation. “I need to go.”
I made it halfway toward the door, before he said, “You’re leaving without your pick-up order?”
Crap. I was stuck there, standing in that awkward conversation with a man too full of himself for his own good. At least until the girl found my parents’ order and would finally put me out of my misery. What was taking her so long anyway?
“In all seriousness,” he said, his voice losing the mocking tone from before. “How have you been?”
He sounded so sincere. It triggered an emotion deep in my chest, one locked away for good reason. It’d been so long since someone actually asked me about my well-being and actually cared. Beyond Aly and my grandmother, all the other people in my life felt so ephemeral, so temporary.
I liked it that way. Or so I thought. For as long as I could remember, it was the only way I knew how to be. My parents were not the loving, touchy-feely sort to inspire me to act the same way. All the men I’d dated in the past were just as equally distant. I admit, I also preferred it that way. Less mess. Less confusion.
Only now, I felt different. The way he asked, as if he genuinely cared, wove through me like a cozy sweater. I felt warm, wanted.
Like I mattered.
I wonder how many people he’d pulled out of burning buildings. How many lives had he saved, then taken the time to follow up with a stranger? Perhaps, I was overthinking all of this. He could just genuinely be a nice guy. I could just be so out of touch with how people really behaved, I no longer recognized true kindness in a stranger.
“What?” I asked, finally. “Healthwise? Emotionally?”
“All of the above.”
I shrugged. “Physically, I feel fine, I guess. I get a little tired every now and then is all. I’m pretty active and stay in shape, but I get short of breath a little faster than usual.”
“That’s normal.” He nodded, as if confirming suspicions he had already harbored. “It’ll get better. And otherwise?”
How much did I share? I felt like I’d held everything in for so long, I was ready to explode with information. Definitely more information than this man expected to hear. Even in my talks to Aly, I couldn’t open up as much as I wanted to. Nobody wanted to hear all the sad things happening in someone’s life. It made them too sad. I never wanted to be that person. I always wanted to look on the bright side, to prop everyone else up.
The world was a sad place on its own.
But I was running out of things to keep me going. I shook my head and turned back toward the entrance, watching the cars drive past on the street. “Everything’s a mess. I feel like, I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.”
“Well, the house repairs will take time,” he said, misunderstanding my concerns. “I can come by and help you if you need it.”
Yes, please!
“No. It’s fine. I—” The last thing I needed was a hunky distraction in my living room. I couldn’t imagine spending hours on end with this man and not eventually jumping him. And then to see him all sweaty, doing repair work, his shirt clinging to his body like…
This was exactly the problem!
“I’ll get it taken care of eventually,” I said, clenching my eyes closed to think more clearly. Anything to take my mind off the image of Hunter standing half naked in my house. “It’s just…”
Just what? My parents were blackmailing me. My cousins hated me. I couldn’t leave the town I had avoided for, like, forever. And now my house was burned to a crisp.
“Nothing’s been the same since my grandmother died,” the words flew past my lips before I could stop them. I shouldn’t be sharing personal details about my life with a stranger. I shouldn’t be bothering him with any of this. No one ever really wanted to hear all the negati
ve things going on in a person’s life. But he just made me feel so safe. Like I could tell him anything.
And he would actually listen.
“She was everything to me,” I said softer, the words choking me. “And now...I just don’t even know how to go on.”
“Ah. Your grandmother…” He tipped his head back, examining the ceiling as if searching through it to find his words. “The music box?”
“Yes. It was hers. ” I nodded, turning away to sift through my memories without bursting into tears. I needed this. I needed this conversation that no one else around me would let me have. They all wanted to move on. They wanted to forget, forge their own way. I was the only one still stuck in the past.
“She used to play it for me every night,” I said. “Mama and Daddy always worked so much. They would work late, or go out of town to take a deposition, or whatever. Something always came up. And it was always just me and my grandmother. She would tuck me in at night, tell me stories, and then right before she left the room, she’d play the music box. And I would go right to sleep while listening to it.”
Silence. Great! I’d finally said too much. I’d practically just had a therapy session with this man who asked nothing more than “how are you?”. Is this how it was going to be from now on? I would be so grief-stricken, that a person would just say “hello” and bam! The story of my life from toddler to awkward teens and more.
But when I turned to face him, a small part of me crumbled at the sight of him. My chest tightened, trapping the breath in my lungs like a brisk morning run. His beautiful blue eyes captured mine, a meld of compassion and understanding that bore no pity. It was as if he not only cared about what I had to say, but that he knew the pain I wore all too well.
A silent struggle sieged within me, wanting to draw him close, to curl up against him the way I had that night of the fire. I wanted to be lost in his embrace, allowing him to soothe the aches taking hold of me.
Instinctively, I leaned forward, my eyes falling to his lips. I could kiss him here, in front of everyone. No one would care. He wanted to kiss me. I’d seen that look a hundred times, and yet I’d never wanted so badly to make it happen.
“I’m sorry,” he said, suddenly. “I shouldn’t have just assumed—”
“That I was some materialistic princess trying to save something expensive?”
He seemed surprised that I knew exactly what he’d been thinking all along. I was a blonde who wore makeup and got herself pretty well put together. People always just assumed I was materialistic, or stupid, or ditzy. I had learned just to ignore it for the most part.
“Yeah, that.” He raked a hand through his thick, brown hair. Every espresso-colored strand trailing between his fingers inspired a wicked little thought.
I needed to leave this restaurant soon, or I’d be launching myself into his arms any second now.
“Well, I’m happy to see you humbled,” I said instead. Because “Take me now” just seemed too out of place.
“I know what it’s like to lose someone you care about,” he explained. “You feel like you have so much to live up to in order to make them proud. But I’m sure whatever you’re doing, you’re doing what your grandmother would have wanted.”
That same ache tugged within me, the one inspiring me to reach out and touch him. Who had he lost? And how on earth did this man who rescued foolish women from burning buildings, then listen to them carry on about their feelings as if nothing else in the world mattered, think he had done nothing to make the one he lost proud?
“Well, it’s not my grandmother who expects anything of me right now,” I said. She was the only one who ever made me feel like I actually did anything right. It was everyone else I had to answer to now. “The dead rarely ever have any expectations for us.”
“No, I suppose they don’t.” He laughed lightly, his gaze falling down to his hands.
I knew that look. He was getting ready to ask me something. Something I wasn’t sure I could commit to at that moment. He made me feel warm and fuzzy in all the ways I never thought a man could. He also made me feel hot and bothered in all the ways I definitely knew a man could, which was enough to remind me I couldn’t play this game for much longer.
I had too much on my plate as it was. There was the house, and the new job, and figuring out my life. There was also finding out a way to get out of this town as quickly as possible, which meant that starting something I couldn’t finish was out of the question.
“Look, would you like to—”
“Pick up order for Elizabeth.” The woman behind the counter popped up just in time.
“Thank you.” I sighed, the sound leaving my lungs in a flood of air and desperation. I turned to face Hunter, his eyes searching mine with a curious understanding. As if he knew how hard I was already trying to push him away. “I really should...I should get going.”
“Right.” He nodded, then stepped off to the side to let me pass. “Well, see you around.”
A part of me hoped I would see him, that eventually the universe would throw us back into another situation—or give me some sort of sign that we were meant to be together.
If only for just one moment in time.
And so, I resolved myself.
The next time I saw Hunter, if I ever did, I would know exactly what the universe had in store for us.
Chapter Six
Lyndsey
My first day of work finally arrived, and I was as nervous as if facing my own execution.
Mama and Daddy decided to go on ahead of me to meet with my cousins as sort of a way to soften the blow before my intrusion on the happy little business they’d carved out for themselves. It was also an unpleasant reminder of who was in charge of the business now and how Kyle and Vanessa would be stuck with me, whether they liked it or not.
Despite the whole conversation of needing to grow up and become a responsible adult, I felt as though I’d been brought on as a spy for the opposing team. Kyle and his wife would undoubtedly think so, and I would be further entrenched in this stupid feud started by my parents and my father’s siblings long before I was even born.
I gave them about an hour to prime my cousins for the whirlwind about to take hold. I had my own errands to run, after all. Ones that included getting my life back on track and getting me the hell out of this town as soon as possible.
So, when I walked into that police station, I should’ve felt a sense of empowerment and excitement—anything beyond the sheer dread I felt at that moment. Why did entering the police station feel so awkward? Why did it feel wrong somehow? I had never been in trouble with the law before. And while I may have been a little bit of a wild child growing up, it was not in the sense of committing vandalism or petty crimes.
Yet, I still felt completely out of place. Was I choosing the right path for this arson case? Or was there something else I should be focusing on when it came to rebuilding my grandmother’s home?
“Well, as I live and breathe.”
The voice stole into my thoughts like a whisper from the past. All the apprehension taking hold of me after entering the station melted away, reminding me why I came to this particular one in the first place and exactly who I wanted to see.
I turned toward Flynn, unable to hide the smile stretching across my face.
“That wouldn’t be Lyndsey Saunders, now would it?” Flynn said, continuing to speak as though he’d suddenly seen an apparition. “It’s been so long since you’ve been back, folks ‘round here were beginning to think you were dead.”
I cocked my head to the side, regarding him with one of my most teasing glares. It may have been a while since I’d seen my old high school friend, but he hadn’t changed much over the years. “It’s only been three years.”
“That’s a long time in the rumor mill,” he explained, closing the distance between us and standing well within range for me to reach him.
So, like any good friend I’d known since I was a child, I smacked him in the ar
m to make my point. He deserved it. I’d been back almost a week, and he hadn’t called. Hell, he hadn’t even come to the funeral! Of all the people in this town, he was the one I’d have expected to see first after the news of my grandmother’s death.
“Ow!” Flynn rubbed at the place where I hit him. “You know assaulting a police officer is a crime, right?”
“Where were you?” I asked, feeling the humor flee from my face.
He clearly noticed it, too, for he put up no fight at all and simply sighed in defeat. “I had to work. I tried to get time off for the funeral, but there was no working around it. My mother sent over her world-famous lasagna though, and I sent over a flower arrangement with your grandma’s favorites.”
“I would have preferred to have you there,” I explained. It would have been nice to see a familiar face that didn’t want to do me bodily harm at the funeral—to even have a shoulder to cry on for once, instead of having to put on a brave face for the masses and entertain guests, rather than admitting I had just lost someone who meant so much in my life. “You didn’t even call.”
Flynn stared back at me, a mix of sympathy and guilt coloring his gaze. He closed and reopened his eyes slowly, as if the look on my face brought him too much pain to stare at directly. “It’s been busy, Lyndsey. I wasn’t even sure you wanted me to call. It’s been a while since any of us have heard from you.”
And there it was. The hard truth I needed to hear all along. I’d been the real weak link in all of this. The only one neglecting a whole side of my life for too long was me. I left for California and tried to never look back again. Could anyone blame me? Everything about this town reminded me of all the reasons I kept trying to run away.
Even Flynn, who I’d loved like a brother ever since I’d first met him at the age of five. He was Kyle’s friend at that time, two years older than me and every bit the jaw-dropping gorgeous male you’d expect for your first crush. But he was set on staying here his whole life, set on building a life here, and content to never see more of the world than what was published on other people’s social media.