Inflamed: A Love Letters Novel

by Kristen Blakely

  “No.” He chuckled. “Don’t apologize for kissing like a virgin. It’s a huge turn-on.”

  She laughed. She could hear the nervous edge in the sound. Did he hear it too?

  When he slid an arm around her waist, tugging her close, she leaned into his, enjoying his warmth as they strolled along the pier. For so long, she had been alone, and too busy, too overwhelmed to think about it. When Sean had showed up, he had taken some of the load off her shoulders, and hung around to enjoy the slivers of free time creeping back into her day.

  They arrived at Jack’s house within ten minutes, and by then, Aidan was an hour past his bedtime, and cranky from a day packed with too many emotional lows and highs. With reluctance, Aidan said goodbye to his new friends—Jack’s sons, all older than him—and alternated between kicking the toes of his sneakers and dragging his feet all the way home.

  “I didn’t see Jewel today,” Aidan whined as their house came into view.

  “Tomorrow, buddy,” Sean said. “I’ll bring her around tomorrow afternoon as usual, and we can work on ‘stay.’”

  “I want to see her. I want to hug her good night.”

  “I’ll give her a hug for you.”

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  “No, but it’ll have to do for now.”

  Aidan scowled as he walked into the house. “It’s not fair.”

  Debra shot Sean a quick, apologetic glance as she propelled Aidan up the stairs. “Brush your teeth and get to bed. Things are going to look a great deal better after eight hours of sleep.”

  The boy stomped up the stairs. “I’m not sleepy.”

  Debra looked at Sean. “Sorry about that.”

  “Sugar crash. Been there, done that. Hundreds of times, if you ask my mom.”

  She pressed the palms of her hands against the side of her jeans. “Would you like to come in for some coffee?”

  Her heartbeat skittered as she waited through several seconds and the slight furrowing of his brow before he responded. “Sure.”

  She turned to the kitchen, but he caught her arm gently. “I can do that. I know my way around your kitchen.”

  After two weeks of dinners together, he certainly did. If it didn’t strike her earlier how integrated Sean had become into her life, it certainly did then.

  It made the next step forward seem much more natural and evolutionary.

  “I’ll check on Aidan.” Debra went upstairs and found Aidan drowsing in his bed. She bent down and lifted his lip, sniffing hard. She caught a whiff of fresh mint; Aidan, at least, had made a show of brushing his teeth.

  “Night, Mom.”

  She stroked his sweaty head. The shower would have to wait until tomorrow. “Did you have a good day?”

  Aidan grunted and snuggled into his bed. “I want Jewel.”

  “You’ll see her tomorrow.”

  “Yeah.” Aidan grunted again, but he did not sound nearly as grumpy that time. “Sean will bring her over.”

  “Yes, he will,” Debra said softly, staying with Aidan until his breathing evened into sound sleep.

  The scent of fresh coffee rose to meet her as she walked down the stairs. Sean turned to the sound of her footsteps. “Is he asleep?”

  She nodded and accepted the cup he held out. “Thank you again, for everything.”

  “Thank you for being a part of my new life here in Havre de Grace.”

  “Maybe it’s a new start, for both of us.”

  Their coffee mugs clinked as they tapped them together. Debra laughed. “Not as classy as wine glasses—”

  “No, but it’s more us.”

  She blinked in surprise as he took the words right out of her mouth. Debra set her mug down on the kitchen counter and raised her lips for his kiss. He obliged, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her to him. He tasted of coffee and whiskey. He smelled of cedar and firewood. A soft sigh melted out of Debra. Whatever happened later, she wanted this moment. She wanted now. She wanted him. “We’ve celebrated Aidan’s birthday,” she breathed into his ear. The tingle of anticipation shuddered through her. “Are you ready to celebrate Valentine’s Day?”

  Chapter 8

  Sean awoke the next morning to an unfamiliar bedroom and a slight indentation on the mattress next to him. He ran his hand over the fading warmth and inhaled deeply of the orange-scented sheets.

  Debra.

  The silence of the bedroom was dispelled by the sounds rising from the kitchen where Debra was probably preparing breakfast. A smile inched across his face, and thoughts of Debra widened it into a grin.

  It felt good.

  “Good” was enough for him. He did not want to dig too deeply. There was no need to put a name to anything he was feeling—not when large parts of him were still raw from his relationship with Romina.

  Just live in the moment. Inhale. Exhale.

  He closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath that filled his lungs. The aroma of oranges, infused with the bright promise of summer, surrounded him. The peace of the morning settled around him

  The smell of butter and eggs rose to meet him as he made his way downstairs. For several moments, he stood by the kitchen door, watching Debra bustle through the familiar space, preparing breakfast for three in much the same way she had prepared dinners for three for several weeks now.

  At that moment, however, she looked beautiful, her face lightly touched with makeup, and her long hair pulled back into a ponytail. A faint smile danced on her lips, but her economical movements were relaxed.

  A stray thought flashed through his mind. I want to wake up to this every morning.

  The words wavered and he had to clear his throat before trying again. “Good morning.”

  Debra looked up with a smile. “Hey.” She tilted the skillet to slide the scrambled eggs onto a plate. “Sleep well?”

  Sean nodded and shoved his hands into the pockets of his denim jeans. He stared down at the spread of toast, cereal, fruit preserves, and scrambled eggs Debra had laid out on the table. He searched for the elusive words. How did one say thank you for great sex? “Thanks for breakfast.”

  “No problem. Aidan should be up soon, and I need to leave in a few minutes. I have to open up the café. If you leave after Aidan, can you lock the door on your way out?”

  “Sure.”

  “Oh, I might be a bit late getting home tonight. I need to run by the grocery store for basil. I have chicken stew planned for tonight.”

  “The one with the tomato base that I like?”

  She nodded.

  “Don’t let me keep you from starting your day. I’m already counting down the minutes to dinner.”

  She laughed and leaned in to press a kiss on his cheek. “Okay, I’m off. You have a great day.”

  He stared at Debra’s back as she walked out the door. Was that it? No issues. No drama. Just “Good morning; enjoy your breakfast. See you tonight?”

  He pressed a hand to his cheek where the warmth of her kiss lingered. Could life really be that simple? Was this what normal felt like?

  Damn, but it wasn’t just good.

  It was great.

  Debra’s cell phone rang as she walked into the café. Juggling keys and handbag, she pulled out her phone and glanced at the caller ID before accepting the call. “Hey, Holly,” she greeted her one-time best friend who was once again her best friend, albeit with a eight-year interlude in their friendship

  “How was Aidan’s birthday?” Holly asked.

  “Could have been a disaster. None of his friends showed up.”

  “What? Those little brats.”

  “Weren’t they all in your class once?” Debra asked. Holly had been Aidan’s first-grade teacher, and she would certainly have known his classmates too.

  “Yes. If I were still their teacher, they’d have several points docked off their good behavior chart.”

  “Aidan had a good birthday anyway—by the way, we received the gift you sent. Thanks.”


  “No problem. I hope he likes it. So, Aidan’s birthday. What happened?”

  “All the families from the fire station came over instead.”

  “Fire station…oh, Sean.” Holly dragged his name out in a knowing tone. “So, did something happen?”

  “Something did happen, actually.”

  “Oh!” Holly’s voice trilled with delight. “Was he good?”

  “Holly, we’re thirty-two. We don’t ask these kinds of questions anymore.”

  “Of course we do. Well?”

  Debra smiled as she set her bag down and hurried behind the counter to get the coffee started. “He was wonderful in bed, but far better was talking to him in the morning about mundane things—like locking doors and buying groceries—the kinds of conversations people take for granted when the same person who falls asleep beside them also wakes beside them, and is around day after day.”

  “I know what you mean,” Holly murmured.

  “I can’t say I’ve missed them when I’ve never had them, but I’ve always wanted those conversations.”

  “And now you have them.”

  Debra nodded, a lump rising to block her throat. “He’s a good man, Holly. He’s done so much for Aidan and me, long before we meant anything to him.”

  “I’m so happy for you, Debra. You deserve it. You’ve earned your happy ending.”

  Had she?

  After several more minutes of conversation, Debra hung up on her best friend, but Holly’s words cast a lingering shadow of doubt over Debra’s joy—like the premature congratulations of a pregnancy or engagement. How could she boast of a happy ending after her first night with Sean? It was far too soon to celebrate. All she had was the start of a potential relationship.

  For now, it was enough, since it was more than she had had in a long time.

  But what do I do when I’m ready for more, when I’m ready for everything life could be?

  Chapter 9

  Over the next two months, Debra, Sean, and Aidan settled into a comfortable routine that had Jewel and Sean staying through the night at Debra’s home. Aidan had no complaints about sharing his bed with Jewel. In fact, he had scarcely reacted on that first morning when he had seen Sean at breakfast. “Where’s Jewel?” was his only question before he sat down and tackled the scrambled eggs and toast Debra had served for breakfast.

  The little town of Havre de Grace hardly seemed to react when news got around that the new fireman had taken up with The Other Woman. The people who had gone to school with Debra and Holly were too busy with their own lives and young children to pay much attention. Patti only smiled. “About time.”

  The elderly folks who frequented the café gestured to Debra to lean over so they could whisper in her ear, “He’s a keeper.”

  Debra smiled. Apparently, Sean, with his easy-going local-boy attitude, had made a positive impression on the people of Havre de Grace.

  His phone continued to ring in the mornings, evenings, and through the weekends—a distinctive tune that he had obviously set to indicate a caller he did not want to pick up. Debra couldn’t tune it out, not when he stiffened each time. Some days, the phone rang more frequently than others. Always, it beeped to indicate it had gone to voicemail.

  Sean never picked up the phone, at least not that Debra had seen. If he listened to the voicemail, she wasn’t aware of it either. More than once, she had seen him delete voicemails without playing them. He never spoke about the phone calls. She didn’t ask. She knew she was deliberately turning a blind eye to issues in his past, but as long as they stayed there, as long as they had no bearing on the present, she did not want to disrupt the contentment they had found together.

  And there was contentment—the simple pleasure of waking up together and of evenings cuddling on the couch in the living room while Aidan and Jewel dozed in a cozy heap on the carpet. And there was joy—the kind that made Debra break into a smile whenever her thoughts rested, however briefly, on how blessed she was.

  Her first catering gig for Patti’s anniversary dinner had been an outstanding success. The large tip that Patti gave her was wonderful; the open praise and recommendations that followed were even better. Business trickled in, and two months after her first project, she had catered two more events and was submitting a bid for a small wedding party of fifty guests.

  “Classy and intimate,” she told Sean as she relaxed against his chest late one evening after dinner was over and the kitchen had been cleaned. Their denim-clad legs extended along the length of the couch in a tangle of limbs. “What do you think of roast duck and an herb-crusted sole?”

  “No red meat? Seriously? What kind of wedding dinner doesn’t serve red meat?”

  “Your country boy mentality is showing,” Debra teased.

  “Filet mignon with a red wine reduction.”

  She swatted him with the piece of paper she had been using to make notes. “Do you even know what that means?”

  “Saw it once on a menu. Tasted great. I’m sure you can figure it out. I’d be happy to sample your cooking and provide feedback.” His grin was wide enough to be a leer.

  “I’m sure you would.” Debra glanced at her watch and looked down at her son, snuggling with his now-large puppy on the carpet. “It’s bedtime for you, Aidan.”

  “Awww, Mom.” Aidan rolled onto his back. Jewel mirrored his actions. Her accompanying whine was almost a perfect imitation of his. “Just ten more minutes.”

  “You said that ten minutes ago.”

  “I did?” Aidan arched an eyebrow. His gaze flashed to Sean. “Come on, Sean, please. Just ten more minutes.”

  Sean shook his head. “What your mom says goes double for me.”

  Aidan grumbled as he climbed to his feet and stomped up the stairs. “Why are you on her side?”

  Debra was silent for a moment. “Did you see what he did?”

  “Try to pit us against each other? Smart children do that.”

  “No, well, yes, but more than that. I mean…” The words tangled on her tongue. Her mind screamed at her to shut up. They were too presumptive, too bold—

  “You mean smart children do that to their parents?”

  Debra sucked in her breath. “How do you do that mind-reading thing?”

  Sean shrugged, but the gesture was stiff. “It’s a gift. Look, it’s a tough topic. I’m not ready to go there. Right now, I’m just enjoying the moment.”

  “Right. We’ve just started dating.” She kept her voice even but something in her shriveled. It had been stupid to imagine that he might have been ready for more, that he might have been ready to assume responsibility for a child who wasn’t his.

  Sean nodded, apparently reassured by her words. “It’s too soon.”

  No, it wasn’t. Not for her. Debra knew it in her heart and in her head. Perhaps it came from being older, from having a longer perspective of life. Perhaps it came from wasting almost a decade of her life floundering from the results of bad decisions and not taking charge of her own direction sooner. Perhaps it came from knowing what she didn’t want—Peter—and what she did want—Sean. Or perhaps it was from watching Aidan laugh in Sean’s company and grow and learn beneath Sean’s watchful gaze. Perhaps it was the pleasure and comfort she took in waking beside Sean each morning and falling asleep beside him each night.

  But it was too soon for him.

  She fixed a smile on a face. “Do you want a refill on your coffee?”

  “No, it’s getting late.”

  “I’m getting one for myself.” She pushed up from the couch and walked to the kitchen. She reset the coffeemaker to brew a fresh pot and waited, listening to the rhythmic dripping sound of coffee. What if Sean was never ready? He was only twenty-five. Why would he want to take on the responsibility of an eight-year-old? He wouldn’t. No man would.

  Would he break Aidan’s heart when he finally walked away?

  Would he break hers?

  “Debra?” Sean’s footsteps sounded behind her.

&nbs
p; She swiped the moisture away from her eyes and forced a smile into her voice. “Yes?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You walked away with a catch in your voice. It’s not nothing. It’s the marriage thing, right?”

  “No, it’s not the marriage thing. Marriage isn’t a thing. It’s a relationship.”

  “It’s a big next step. I’m not ready for it.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s too soon.”

  “You’ve already said that.”

  His eyes narrowed. “So why are you freezing me out like I’ve screwed up?”

  “I’m not freezing you out. I didn’t want to bother you with what I was feeling, so I left to give you space.”

  “That’s the same thing.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Look, it’s been two months. We’ve been happy together, but it’s just the honeymoon period. It doesn’t last.”

  “It does if both people brought their authentic selves into the relationship in the first place. I know I did. Did you?”

  He tensed. “If this is about the phone calls—”

  “This isn’t about the phone calls. It’s about whether you’d walk away some day.”

  Sean shook his head sharply. “Men walk away from marriages all the time. A ring isn’t a guarantee of stability.”

  “No, it’s not, but it’s a statement of commitment.”

  “Until it isn’t.” He grimaced. “What do you want, Debra? A title?”

  “I already have one.” The Other Woman. Debra sucked in a deep breath. It’s not about me. “Aidan’s growing attached to you. His father is a flake. I don’t want the other men in his life to be flakes too. I don’t want him growing up thinking that leaving women is the normal thing to do.”

  “I haven’t left. I’m right here!”

  “But you could.”

  Sean rolled his eyes. “Damn it, Debra. Anything could happen if you project far enough into the future. Why are you borrowing trouble that hasn’t happened? Right now, I’m here. Isn’t that enough?”