Ignoring the chaos of his bedroom, I approach the dresser. A drawer grinds open, and I find clean briefs and jeans. In the T-shirt drawer is the one I had worn, and I grab it. I recall the soft embrace. I hear light footsteps as Blaine joins me in the room. Still in his towel, he looks at the clothes helplessly. I gather up the T-shirt in two hands and motion for him to bend down. I tug it over his head and guide his muscular arms through as if he’s a little boy. Struck by the thought, I almost remove his towel. Instead, I pick up the pants and underwear and put it in his hands. “I’ll let you do this part.” Leaving him, I pull the door almost shut.
Surveying the apartment with my eyes, I locate the laundry basket. He walks out of the bedroom as I gather up dirty clothes and towels. The smell of despair surrounds me. I slip past him and do the same in the bedroom. The basket is overflowing, and it’s heavy when I set it by the door and retrieve two pillowcases stuffed with more. Blaine has made it to the couch and sits there with a blank look on his face. “Blaine, I’d like you to come with me in the car. You don’t have to get out and see anyone, just go for the ride. Will you?”
“Sure.” He gets up and lifts the basket. I grab the pillowcases and lead the way.
14
Grateful for what money can buy, I drop off Blaine’s laundry and pay to have it done by five. I have Blaine with me, and I’m driving him to a hiking trail for a walk. It’s too cold to open the windows, but I pop open the sunroof and let in fresh air. Spring blows through Blaine’s hair with the promise of summer. We weave our way up a side road heading toward hiking trails.
“Casey?” he asks. “Will you take me somewhere?”
“Sure, where do you want to go?”
“The park beside the fire station.”
That’s the last place I would have taken him, because it offers a spectacular view of Peak 6. I’m not sure what he thinks, but when we get there I prepare myself for emotional demons. He stares at the mountain, and I notice birds are chirping. Without breaking his gaze, he says, “Don’t come. I need to do something alone right now. I’ll be back.”
My pulse quickens as a surge of adrenaline pumps through me. What is he doing? He walks behind the fire station, and I roll down my window so I can listen. I hear a thunk. What? I hear another. My brain frantically tries to decipher the noise. It sounds like something is hitting a tree. I want to go see, but he asked me not to. I have to trust him. A burst of profanity that would make my best friend Gretchen blush rushes to my ears. It’s directed toward the mountain and God and anything associated with the awful day Tim died. It stops as suddenly as it starts. Fear of the unknown holds me hostage. I wait.
After what seems like an eternity, I hear gravel crunch as Blaine approaches the car. He’s fine, no blood. The door opens with a creak, and when he slides in, he begins to speak. “The alert went off just before seven.” He tells me the whole story. The panic and hope as he rushed to help. The tumultuous emotions of jamming a pole into the snow, hoping to hit Tim but hoping he didn’t. The stabbing pain he felt in his heart when a dog found a glove. And the anguish of seeing his dead friend’s destroyed body. At points he’s sobbing but won’t take my comfort. He needs to get it out. When he’s finished, he reaches for me, and his embrace is desperate and hurts. I let it as the tears flow.
When we return to his apartment, I give Blaine the basket of folded laundry to carry up the steps. He seems to breathe in its fresh scent. When I turn the key, the lock clicks to release the heavy metal door. When we enter, the aroma of fresh flowers greets us, and I see them on the coffee table in an arrangement full of color. Everything is neat and clean. Blaine turns to me. “Casey?” He shakes his head, and a small smile grows. “Thank you.”
I read the note set by the flowers. “Janet’s mac and cheese is in the fridge. Heat at 350 for 30 minutes. <3”
“Hungry? Macaroni and cheese can be ready in a half hour.”
He nods. “That sounds good.” He brings the clean clothes to his room.
The light reaches out to me when I open the refrigerator, and I discover milk, eggs, bread, and orange juice inside along with the casserole.
I wander to the bedroom and help Blaine put clothes away. When we finish, he comes to me. Holding my shoulders, he says, “We’re playing house again.”
“I know. We do it well.” I reach up to his face and trace the outline with my finger. “Help me make the bed.”
He takes my face in his hands, and his lips touch mine, testing, and once sure, he presses harder to make our kiss grow deeper, and a familiar flame flickers. Breaking away, I see desire smolder beneath the surface. He says, “Stay with me tonight, Casey. I want to hold you. I want to wake up and see your face. Please don’t leave.” A hint of desperation sneaks into his voice.
“Of course I’ll stay.”
When dinner is ready, I call Blaine to the table. The buttery smell of comfort food curls up from the casserole as I dish it out. I sit myself next to him, close. I stab a noodle wrapped in stringy cheese. “Blaine, did you ever talk to the grief counselor at work?”
“No. I thought I’d be fine. I needed to take care of Clara. I didn’t have time.” He scoops up a large amount of the pasta, and it’s nice to see his appetite is back.
“And now what do you think?”
“I think I should make an appointment.”
I set my fork down and touch his arm. “I do, too. You lost the most important person in your life. It’s no wonder you’re having trouble getting over it.”
“Most important person?” He bristles. “What do you mean?”
I set my fork down. “Tim had been your best friend since you can remember. He was your go-to guy no matter what. He knew all your secrets and was the one person in the world who loved you beyond unconditionally. You could tell him anything, and he probably never had trouble telling you the truth about your actions. I know you felt the same way about him. He was your person, Blaine. You would have died for him, and he for you. We should all be so lucky to have someone like that in our lives.”
“Person.” He nods. “I see what you mean. Do you think Clara was his person too?”
“Maybe, but I don’t know. I know they loved each other. They were a team in many ways. But marriage is a different, complex thing. Things like divorce happen, and I’m not sure you ever divorce your person.”
He nods at my words as he chews his food.
After dinner, we decide to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie. We settle on a light comedy, but throughout the movie I don’t hear Blaine laugh. This is more than I can handle, and I hate that I can’t fix this for him.
I flip off the TV. “You don’t want to watch this,” I say. “Would you like to do something else?”
“Do you mind if we go to bed?”
“That’s fine. Can I borrow a T-shirt?” I’m going to spend the night with Blaine. Where is this going to lead? While he has been affectionate tonight, the sexy stuff had been minimal. I’m not sure why, but I hope it stays that way. I’m kind of—jealous. Jealous of how Blaine felt about Tim. I know it’s unfair, but I want him to adore me the same way.
“Sure. Come with me.” He takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom. Sliding open the drawer, he says, “Help yourself.” As I touch each one to find the softest, the door clicks behind him when he leaves.
When I exit Blaine’s bedroom, I have a view of the bathroom. I see Blaine wearing only jeans. He reaches out a hand for me, and as I step onto the cool tile, heat leaves my feet. He hands me a toothbrush ready to go. I gaze at our reflection in the mirror as we brush our teeth together. His blond, tan, California-boy looks make me think of the summer sun. He’s strong, tall, and has the athletic body of a swimmer, while I look almost waif-like next to him. With willowy arms, flowing reddish curls, and pale skin, we don’t match.
But Blaine is staring at me with adoration, and while he doesn’t smile, I sense his appreciation and guess he thinks we are a pair. I think back to my jealousy over Tim an
d shake the thought. Blaine just lost his lifelong best friend, and I’m worried that he loved him more than me? How could I be so selfish?
Blaine finishes first and steps behind me. He wraps his arms around my body and pulls me back against his chest to embrace me in warmth. “Look at us. You’re so beautiful in my arms. My angel.”
I smile, and then I spit before I turn around to face him. “Was that beautiful?”
“To me? Yes.” He takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom. The light switch flips, and in the darkness we slide into cool sheets, but the heat from Blaine warms me quickly as we fit together, and he lets out a big sigh. “Thanks for being here.” He yawns and whispers, “I love you.”
I brush my teeth. Blaine wraps his arms around my body and pulls me back against his chest. “Look at us. You’re so beautiful in my arms. My angel.” I lean over to spit and realize I have just jammed my bottom into his thighs. The T-shirt I wear rises up high on my legs. His hands reach down to my hips, and in the mirror I see him look down. I want him to look. My skin tingles as he runs fingers up the side of my legs and stops at the bottom of the shirt. His hands flirt with the hem as my stomach flutters. When his fingers stop teasing, they lift the shirt over my head. I’m naked. Blaine places his hands on either side of the rectangular bathroom sink, trapping me. I notice his forearms ripple as he leans down to kiss my neck. Hot breath tickles my ear as he asks, “Are you ready?”
I inhale deeply as a shiver runs down my spine. Goose bumps break out on my arms and legs, and I turn to face him. He reaches down and under my thighs, lifting me up onto the edge of the sink. The porcelain is cold on my skin as he presses his body into mine. His arousal can’t be ignored. This is what I want, and I reach down to unbutton his jeans. I tug the zipper open as desire burns in my belly.
Blaine steps away from me. His eyes are heavy with lust and his mouth hungry. As he holds out his hand, he says, “Come with me.”
We step out of the bathroom into a snowstorm. Jason steps away and pulls his jeans down over his hips. His mouth opens to speak, and a loud rumble drowns out his voice. I don’t recognize the sound at first, but then an avalanche crashes into him, sweeping him away. I scream.
I bolt up in a panic. Trembling from head to toe, it takes me a moment to realize where I am. Blaine groans, and his hand reaches for me, so I take it and give it a squeeze. He relaxes into a deeper sleep.
I sneak out of bed. Soft carpet muffles the sound of my footsteps as I walk toward the kitchen. Shivering, I grab one of Blaine’s fleeces off a hook and wrap myself in it. Unease settles over me as I put the teapot on the stove. The propane odor floats toward me as the gentle tick, tick of the starter ignites the flame. I jump my bottom up on the counter and scramble to my knees to get to the top shelf. Blaine isn’t a regular tea drinker, but I remember seeing it. A paper box scrapes against the shelf as I pull it out, and I sit back down on the counter to wait for the water to boil.
I decipher my dream. The sex part is a no-brainer since I have that on my mind twenty-four, seven dating Mr. First Base. The avalanche? Considering my day, that one is easy, too, but the troubling piece is Jason. I can’t remember if he was in Blaine’s bathroom with me. If not, at what point did he become the man I was getting naked with? I shake my head at it all. It’s the vision of the snow stealing him away that’s most disturbing. My heart twinges in pain, and tears burn in my eyes imagining it just as the teapot begins to hiss.
Steam rises from my mug as I drown the tea bag and force it to stay on the bottom with the spoon’s weight. Carrying my drink, I retrieve my phone from the coffee table and sit cross-legged on the couch. I flip through until I find the last text conversation with Jason. “At Denver airport. Found a place, thanks. Remind me to tell you what Mr. Jones said about you, lol. See you in June.”
With all that has happened in the last few weeks, I had forgotten. Jason will be here next week. Perhaps my subconscious was reminding me? I really have to talk to it, because that was a horrible way to bring something to my attention.
15
“Tell me why you like this?” Blaine is bent over with his hands on his thighs. His chest heaves, and his face is red with beads of sweat rolling down it. But he’s doing things now, and for that I’m grateful. Medication, therapy, and time have helped.
I gaze up at the mountain that is covered with green patches instead of white. I say, “It gets easier. Once you get in shape, you look forward to it.” I’m on a mission to make sure Blaine gets out of the house each day. This is a guy that used to hate being cooped up inside, so I decided to add him to my morning exercise routine. I run about five to eight miles most days. Today, we made it one. “C’mon. We’ll walk for a bit.”
“You’re trying to kill me.” He straightens and stretches his arms high over his head.
I look up and down his body with mischief in my eyes. We’re still just kissing, and I’m beyond sexually frustrated. But my libido has taken a backseat as Blaine heals. “No, that is most definitely not what I’m trying to do.”
“Wait. You think I’m getting fat?” He grabs the skin at his belly. “Huh. Maybe I am getting a little flabby.”
I snort. “Hardly. I was only appreciating the goods.” I give him a wink and step closer. I grab his T-shirt at the chest, and it’s damp in my fingers as I pull him down for a kiss.
“Oh, I can live with that.” He tugs me against his body, and the mix of musk and spice makes me tingle with desire. He bends down and kisses me tenderly, but I’m having none of that and return it with a simmer of passion on its way to more.
A tattered-looking Subaru drives by, and a guy yells, “Get a room!” I see a hand wave out the window as it stops at the intersection ahead of us.
I break away. “Who was that?” I walk in the direction of the intersection.
“Kaleb. He works at the bike shop. I stopped in yesterday to see if they still want me, and I start tomorrow.”
“That’s great! That’s when I start working for Mr. Jones.” I got a job photographing properties for sale.
“I know you’re sick of cleaning. You must be glad.” He lifts his shirt and wipes his face.
“I am on both counts. It hasn’t been the same since Clara stopped. She knew how to make it fun. The other girls... well, let’s just say I didn’t memorize any names.”
“When do you move into Clara and—Clara’s house?”
Tim is a subject we both avoid, and I quickly answer, “Next week. I’m kind of excited to have all that space. But part of me will miss the boarding house. Although, I’ll go back in the fall, so it’s all good.” We turn the corner and are on Main Street. The aroma of donuts floats toward us. A bakery is up ahead, and thinking about deep-fried sweetness makes my stomach growl.
“Hungry?” Blaine smiles at me.
“Kind of, but I didn’t bring any money. I can wait.”
“You don’t need that crap anyway. When we get to my apartment, I’ll make you eggs.”
A memory of Jason invades my mind. “You eat crap.” He should be here any day now.
“I’m sure eggs are better for me. But I love donuts.” Main Street is quiet this time of day. Shop owners won’t be in for a couple more hours, and we walk by windows shielding dim interiors. My stomach growls again.
We pass the cheese shop, and I ask, “Doesn’t Kaleb date Tara? The girl from Texas that used to live in my boarding house?”
“I don’t know. Hey, you know who we haven’t seen in a while? Nick and Megan.”
“Are they around in the summer?” My legs are stiff, and I remember I had wanted to run more after taking Blaine on the short loop.
“I think so. I’ll call Nick and see if we can do something.” He steps up on the concrete stairs toward his apartment.
I stop. “Get back here. We’re not done.” I lunge forward and put my foot on the bottom step. Sinking down, my hamstrings stretch. I hold until the pain subsides and switch legs. Blaine stands next to me and mimics my movemen
ts.
Stepping away, I bend my knee and catch my foot behind me. I lift it to my butt and hold. “We could grill out at Clara’s next week after I move in. It would be fun.” I catch myself when Blaine frowns and say, “I’m sorry. That might not be fun for you. That house has memories.”
“No.” His brows are now knit with resolve. “I think it’s a good idea. That house has good memories.” Our feet tap lightly on the concrete steps as he says, “I need to go see those kids before they leave. I miss them.” Blaine unlocks his door with a click and steps back for me to go in first.
“Me, too.” I walk into the kitchen, and the coffee pot rattles in its housing when I grab it to get started on my part of breakfast. Blaine opens the fridge and starts to collect food. I think of my lunch with Clara and her wonderful gift. “When is Clara’s birthday? November, right?”
“Yeah. What made you think of that?”
“I was remembering the lunch I had with her a couple of weeks ago,” I say. “She gave me a gorgeous hand-knit scarf for my birthday. I can’t wait to wear it.”
Blaine stops cracking eggs in a bowl. “Oh.” He looks at me for a second and then swipes his hands over his thighs as he turns away to go to his bedroom. Huh? Drawers scrape open and thud shut before he returns with a big smile on his face. “Found it.”
“Found what?” He has a little present wrapped in plain, plum-colored paper with a dark-green ribbon. “Your birthday present.”
“You got me a present?” My birthday was a couple of weeks after Tim died, and I never expected Blaine to remember or even think about getting me a present. “You’re so sweet. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I found it one day last spring and knew it was the perfect thing. But with the avalanche, well, I forgot all about it. It’s been hiding in a drawer. Open it.” He hands me the box.
I pull the ribbon untied and slide a finger under the seam of paper. Tearing it apart gently, my fingers wrap around a soft velvet box. I pry it open and reveal a pair of dainty, green stone earrings set in gold. “Oh, Blaine, these are beautiful.”
Hearts on Fire: Romance Multi-Author Box Set Anthology Page 9