“Victoria!” Her mother’s familiar voice rang out over the din, making Tori wince. News of the fire must have reached the edge of town where her parents’ home stood on the shores of the Sound.
Belinda Wilde elbowed her way past Alex and Chief Underwood to get to her.
“Oh, darling,” she cried, checking herself as she went to throw a white-gloved hand over Tori’s shoulder. Wearing an ermine wrap over her striking Christmas gown and not a hair out of place, Belinda took in Tori’s soot-covered face and snatched her hand back. Taking note of Alex standing silent and watchful at Tori’s side, her lips thinned.
“Mr. Morrigan.” She sniffed as though encountering a bad smell. “Is he the reason you were late?” She directed her question at Tori.
“Actually, he’s the reason I’m alive, Mother.” Wishing her mother hadn’t come at all, Tori tried to keep the bite out of her tone. “Thank you for your concern, though.”
“Darling, of course I’m concerned.” Belinda pressed her gloved hand to her own heart, still not touching her sooty daughter. “But you were supposed to be at the party two hours ago!”
“Leave her alone, Bel.” Reggie Wilde sidled up alongside his wife and frowned down at Tori. “For God’s sake, she just lost everything. Are you okay, dear?” he asked her.
“Tori!” Peyton’s face rose up over her father’s shoulder like a pale moon, keeping Tori from answering. “What happened?” he asked, shooting an uncomfortable glance at the fire chief, who eyed the exchange with interest.
Tori gestured at the smoking skeleton of a building. The fire had stopped just short of burning through the wall to destroy the adjacent store. “I think that’s pretty obvious, don’t you?” she replied.
Peyton stepped around her father, keeping clear of Alex who folded his arms across his chest and stared at him hard.
“Why weren’t you at the party?” His agitation made his voice sound like a girl’s. “We’ve been waiting forever for you to show up. When we heard the sirens, we feared the worst. No one could reach you on your cell phone.”
Recalling that she’d dropped her cell phone on the stairs, Tori wondered if he’d ever listened to his voice mail. From the way he talked, it didn’t sound like he knew she’d broken up with him.
“Thank God she’s not hurt,” her mother declared, glancing around at their filthy environs. “Come on, Victoria, we’ll take you home with us and get you cleaned up. Everyone will be so relieved to know you’re okay.”
Tori looked down at her tattered and grimy dress—$100 wasted. She glanced at Alex and then looked at her mother. “You go on without me. I’ll be going home with Alex.”
“Alex!” Her mother’s tone could not have been more horrified.
Peyton made a sound in his throat that captured everyone’s attention—something between a sob and a scream. “But . . . but . . .”
Whether he’d listened to her voicemail or not, this needed to end here. Tori heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry, Peyton. I left a message telling you this but I should have told you in person, so now I am. I can’t do this—us—anymore. Life’s too short, too unpredictable to waste time. I realized some things this past week. It wouldn’t be fair to either one of us to continue this relationship.”
“No.” He shook his head to convey her answer was unacceptable. “You can’t break up with me. I need you. You need me!” His voice had risen even higher, drawing the attention to them. His face flushed crimson as he raised an accusatory finger at Alex. “This is all your fault. You come back here and ruin everything! I had it all planned and—”
Chief Underwood broke into the conversation. “What exactly did you plan, Mr. Fischer? You have me very curious.” He waved a police officer over.
“I can’t believe this,” Belinda Wilde exclaimed, her face tight with disappointment, her gloved hands fisted. “You’re going to throw away a future with a Son of the Revolution to be with a Morrigan?”
Indignation roared in Tori’s ears. If she replied to her mother, she was certain she’d say something she might later regret. She sent Alex an appealing look. “That’s my cue to leave,” she told him, ignoring her mother completely.
Without so much as a word, Alex bent low, gathered Tori up into his arms, and marched her away from the ambulance, leaving her parents and Peyton to gawk after them.
Tori overheard the police officer address the latter. “Mr. Fischer, I’d like you to come to the station and answer some questions.”
Peyton stammered out an inaudible reply.
“Something tells me your landlord is under suspicion of arson,” Alex murmured on a satisfied note.
“What?” Tori strained to see over Alex’s shoulder. “Peyton would never burn down his own building.” Or would he? she wondered, suddenly not so sure.
“Depends how much money his insurance doles out.” Alex paused with her beside his truck.
“Let’s go home, Tori,” he said, capturing her attention.
She stopped thinking about Peyton’s financial situation and focused on Alex’s beloved face. Incredibly, despite having just lost every material thing she owned, a warm happiness suffused her. “That sounds like heaven,” she agreed.
Epilogue
“You know, I’m quite capable of walking. My feet are fine.”
“I’d rather not take any chances.”
Alex had Tori in the fireman hold—again—which brought her face up close and personal with his nicely shaped butt. “Not that I’m complaining or anything. The view is entertaining.” She pinched his ass through his sweatpants.
Alex smacked her on her behind. “Hey! Behave,” he ordered without a shred of menace in his tone.
Not even winded, he swung Tori around and tossed her onto the couch, causing her to bounce on the firm cushions. She picked up one of the pillows and lobbed it at his head, laughing when he ducked.
It felt damn good to laugh. Especially after the night from hell. Alex had driven her straight to his house, and Mama Rhonda had enveloped Tori in her arms, letting her have a good, hard cry. Then, tucking a hand under her chin, she’d given her a determined look and said, “Chin up, love. You’re a survivor. We’ll get through this together.”
Joel had cooked up grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Then all four of them sat down at the kitchen table, just like old times, and devoured the meal with gusto. And each with a fortifying cold bottle of beer. Afterward, Alex whisked Tori upstairs where he turned on the shower, very hot the way she liked it best, and then left out a pair of his sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt.
It was all so freakishly normal, which she was in desperate need of—the perfect antidote to the shock that could settle in over nearly burning to death. There she was, sitting on his family’s couch, wearing Alex’s clothes that still smelled like him. The tinsel covered artificial tree with a thousand blinky lights and homemade decorations stood in front of the large living room window. Alex’s mother was right. She would survive this. Together, she and Alex could accomplish anything.
“I love it here,” she proclaimed.
He held a finger to his lips, the corner of his mouth turned up. “Shh . . . you’ll wake up Mom and Joel.” Propping her sock-covered feet on the ottoman, he covered her legs with one of his mother’s knitted afghans.
“Comfy, Fancy Face?”
“I told you, my feet are fine.” She wiggled her toes to prove her point, failing to hide her slight wince.
He frowned and went to pull the afghan back.
Tori smacked his hand. “Stop fussing. We need to talk.”
He stilled then dropped into the space next to her, draping an arm over the back of the couch as he regarded her intently. “I’m listening.”
“I feel like I need to explain some things.”
“You don’t have to explain anything—”
“But I do. It’s important to me. Please?”
He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and nodded. “If it’s important to you, then you ha
ve my full attention.”
If she’d still had doubts, his reply would have put them to rest. Alex would always listen to her, always protect her, and always love her. And lately he’d been paying her all the attention he’d withheld in years past. He’d changed, she realized. Seeing what thrills and chills the world had to offer, he seemed as happy to be in his home as she was. Tears of joy burned the backs of Tori’s eyes, but she kept them at bay.
“Your mom wrote me a letter and stuck it in that precious album you gave me.” Again, she nearly started to cry realizing it was gone, along with the photos and recipes. When she focused on Alex once more, the surprise on his face made it clear he’d had no idea about the letter.
“She said something that really struck a chord with me. She told me to live with no regrets.” Tori shifted. “I realized I hadn’t truly been living. I dated Peyton because he was safe, and he seemed content to stay here with me.”
Alex started to protest but she cut him off. “I never loved him,” she insisted. “I thought maybe I would in time, but I was so wrong. When you showed up and reminded me what true love felt like, I knew I had to cut it off.”
Alex reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Tori, I didn’t deserve you when I had you. I took you for granted. You did the right thing breaking things off between us. I needed to grow up, to learn the value of what I had. I’ve changed,” he reassured her. “I know how precious you are, how precious this small town is, how precious family is. I love my job,” he added, “but I love you more. And I promise I will always stay as safe as I can so I can come home to you.”
Fear threatened to squeeze her heart but she drove it back. “Fair enough,” she declared. “I’d rather have a few days of happiness with you than a thousand years of living with someone I don’t love. Can you ever forgive me for being so stupid?”
“Can you forgive me?” he countered with a grin. Pulling Tori onto his lap, he brushed his lips against hers. “I love you.”
He deepened the kiss, bringing his tongue into play. Tasting her. Using his hands to reacquaint himself with the curve of her hips. The texture of her skin. The heat between her legs.
Tori kissed him back, loving his deft touch which seemed to be everywhere all at once. It was too much and yet, not enough. “What are we doing down here anyway? Let’s go upstairs.”
Alex rapped his head against the back of the couch and groaned. “Woman, you almost made me forget I had plans tonight.”
“Well, so do I,” she said, wiggling against the hard erection against her hip.
Alex hugged her hard to keep her from moving. “You’re dangerous,” he growled in her ear. “But I have plans that involve clothes first, naked later. Promise. Look.”
He stood up suddenly, taking her with him as he crossed toward the fireplace and gestured with his chin to the old mantle clock. “It’s after midnight. It’s officially Christmas.” Then he released her legs so that she was standing next to him.
“I’m not understanding you, Alex. Don’t you want to wait until morning when the rest of your family wakes up?”
He tipped his head and smiled at her. “You seriously don’t remember?”
She started to shake her head, then her eyes widened. “Wait, are you talking about the pickle ornament? Did your mom hide it?”
Alex nodded.
Tori squealed and hopped around the tree, wincing at the tenderness of her soles. But her anticipation beat back the pain. She grinned in jubilation as she parted the branches of the tree, looking for the green pickle. Alex chuckled as he watched her frantic search.
All too soon, she found it, hanging close to the trunk at eye level. “That’s odd,” she said, pulling it out to show Alex. “She didn’t hide it very well. Oh.” With a stab of regret, she remembered the pickle ornament Alex had given her, along with his grandmother’s vintage decorations. “The box of ornaments you gave me,” she cried. “I’m sure the fire destroyed them.”
“How can you think about that when you’re holding the pickle?” Alex asked.
She reconsidered the shiny green ornament in her hand. “Your mother usually hides it better than that. Why weren’t you looking for it, too?” she demanded, narrowing her gaze at him.
“Because I’d rather watch you open the present.”
“What about Joel?”
“I don’t think Joel would like this gift. At least, not for himself.”
Tori notched her hands on her hips. “Something’s awfully fishy about this, mister.”
Alex chuckled and pointed to the ottoman. “You. Sit. Don’t think I haven’t seen you limping.”
She stuck out her tongue at him but obediently sat her rump down on the plushy stool. Her feet were in fact stinging a little.
Alex bent to retrieve a gift from under the tree, where it had lain concealed behind several large boxes. He sank to one knee and handed her the box. No wrapping paper needed. No doubt what it contained.
Tori’s eyes widened. She swallowed, then looked up at him. The anticipation burning in his blue eyes reminded her of how he’d looked when he’d first made the Teams and was about to take off on his first mission.
“Open it,” he urged.
Dragging her gaze to the box, she held her breath as she lifted the lid reverently. A gemstone twinkled back at her with all the lights of the Christmas tree. “Oh, God,” she breathed, taking in the opal surrounded by tiny diamonds and mounted to a simple gold band. “That’s gorgeous!”
“It’s my Grandma Ciara’s ring. My mom gave it to me when I told her I was going to propose.”
Her nose tingled as the urge to cry rose up in her again. “It’s perfect, Alex.”
He plucked the ring up from its blue velvet bed and held it between them. “Two years ago, we let each other go because neither one of us was ready. I’m ready now, Tori. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please, will you marry me?”
She tore her gaze from the ring to absorb his sincerity. He really had grown up.
“Yes!” She sprang from the couch like a cat, wrapped her arms around Alex’s neck, and tackled him to the floor, covering his face with kisses, delirious over her good fortune. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” She hoped he’d held tightly to the ring.
“Did you two sneak down here to find the pickle?” Wearing Superman pajamas, his hair standing straight up, Joel had come around the corner to confront them.
Tori was straddling Alex’s thighs, one hand cupping his obvious bulge.
“Oh, my gawd. You two need to get a room. Ugh! I can’t even.” Then Joel yawned, scratched the side of his face and turned to leave.
Alex burst out laughing while Tori buried her hot face in the crook of his neck.
“I’m so glad you came home for Christmas,” she declared, kissing his jaw.
“I’m so glad you said yes.” Alex replied, slipping the ring on her hand. “Now let’s go upstairs and play hide the pickle.”
Acknowledgements
From Tricia Dawson
Writing this novella has been an exciting journey for me. First off, I cannot thank Marliss enough for asking me to be a part of this project. Imagine having one of your favorite authors come and ask you to write a book with her—just wow! There are no words.
Many friends have pre-read Rekindled and have been a huge encouragement. Francesca: Thank you for being my sounding board and bouncing ideas with me. You have always been in my corner and I love you for that. Terry, who always asked for more, more, more! You don’t know how much I appreciate hearing those words. Darynda for planting the seed for the plot of Rekindled. You are amazing. I want to grow up and be you one day. C.L. Parker, who ALWAYS believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. You may not have read Rekindled from start to finish, but trust me—you were in the back of my mind the entire time.
And a huge thanks to Dar Albert with Wicked Smart Designs for an awesome cover. I had an image it in my head, and somehow you created it perfectly.
And fina
lly, my family. God, I know you have put up with a ton of crap. Dirty dishes in the sink. Laundry piling up. And endless take-out dinners. WAIT—that’s not any different from any normal day. BIG GRIN. But thank you for being as excited as I am to finally get Alex and Tori’s story to print.
From Marliss Melton
When you’ve written as many stories as I have, you start to worry that they’re all starting to sound the same. That’s one reason why I enjoy working with debut authors—to add a fresh new voice to one that might be growing stale. I have thoroughly enjoyed collaborating with Trish Dawson, a story-teller whose sense of humor permeates her writing and makes her so much fun to write with.
I thank my ever-willing and talented editor, Sydney Jane Baily (an author in her own right) and my fabulous and loyal beta readers, Penny, Deborah, and Lori. Thanks to everyone involved, this hear-warming Christmas story will be well-received by readers, I am sure!
Author Bios and Links
Debut author Trish Dawson is a southern belle who fell in love with books from an early age. Mother and wife, Tricia’s quest to become an author has led her to volunteering as the programs director in Carolina Romance Writers, a chapter of Romance Writers of America. She is pleased to share her voice with the public in this, her first published work, Rekindled.
Please friend Trish at:
FB:
facebook.com/TrishDawsonauthor
Twitter:
twitter.com/tdawsonauthor
For exciting photos of the setting and character inspirations for this book, check out Trish’s Pinterest page at:
pinterest.com/csmaxwell
Published since 2002, Marliss Melton is the award-winning, bestselling author of over fifteen romantic suspense novels and five novellas featuring Navy SEALs and agency heroes. Former “Army-brat” and military spouse, Melton grew up all over the world and counts on her many contacts in the Spec Ops and federal government communities to pen realistic and heartfelt military romance.
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