Putting Out Old Flames

by Allyson Charles

  “What I heard was self-explanatory. I don’t need the footnotes.” She hurried through the parking lot, head down. Pointing her key fob at her car, she unlocked the doors.

  Chance ripped the car door from her grip, slammed it closed. “We’re going to talk whether you want to or not,” he growled. Placing his palm on her driver’s-side window, he leaned against it, barring her entry. “When Katie said I should marry you—”

  Jane snapped. She was supposed to be starting her new carefree lifestyle, not wallowing in the past and pathetic excuses. For the first time, Chance was ruining her plans. And it was pissing her off. She didn’t want to listen to him, didn’t want to hear his reasons. She grabbed a finger and yanked.

  He yelped. “Christ!” Shaking his hand, he glared at her. “Stop acting like a child. Let’s sit down somewhere and talk.”

  “Can’t.” She slid behind the wheel. “I’m getting a coffee then going to work.”

  “I’ll buy you the damn coffee.”

  “No thanks.” The slamming of her door cut off his reply. He reached for the door handle and Jane hit the locks.

  Chance’s eyes darkened to obsidian. Whoa, he was pissed. Well, he could stew in it for a while. She put the car in gear but waited for him to step back so she didn’t run over his feet. She wasn’t that pissed off. Probably.

  He moved to the front of the car, put his hands on the hood, and glared at her through the windshield. Damn her conscience. She should have taken out a toe. And damn her penchant for backing into parking spaces. He had her boxed in. Unless she ran him down.

  She shook her head. No. No running down her ex-boyfriend. No matter how manipulative he was. Besides, his arms were bulging under his T-shirt, his chest heaving with irritation. He looked kind of Hulk-like, and she didn’t know if her small car would win in a battle between the two.

  Putting the car into park, she rolled down her window. “You’re going to want to move it.”

  “I thought you trusted me.” She read his lips more than heard him. And she was glad of it. She didn’t want to hear the hurt she saw written over his face. Didn’t want to hear his side of the story. Her chest was tight, her eyes burned. She guessed she wasn’t ready to let go of her hurts quite yet. She’d have to work on that. Tomorrow.

  “And I thought you’d changed,” she said. “That you weren’t still a slave to your precious plans. I know you’re desperate to keep Josh, but this plan really sucked. Now get out of my way.”

  Turning his head to the side, he took a deep breath. His shoulders slumped, and Jane knew he’d given up. A pin stabbed her heart. That was a good thing, him giving up. She wouldn’t have to listen to his BS. Then why did she want to throw her arms around him and beg him not to leave?

  He pushed off the car, gave her one last look, and walked away.

  Jane let out a ragged sob. She should be as dehydrated as a raisin, but her eyes filled with more tears. How come he was the one who screwed her over and she was the one who felt like the bad guy? Gripping the steering wheel, she sucked in a shaky breath. Her lungs burned with the effort. Or was that her heart? It felt like it’d died. Only fitting it be cremated, too.

  Pulling out of her parking space, she had to wipe her eyes twice in order to look both ways. No way was she stopping for coffee looking and acting like this. She went straight to work and settled in a half hour before her shift began.

  A piece of chewing gum snapped. “Jane? What are you doing here so early?”

  “Hi, Sharon.” Jane turned on her computer. “Just thought I’d get some things organized.”

  A wall of dark hair crested the cubicle divider. “Uh-huh.” Sharon rested her arms on the low wall. “So you coming in here early looking like you just saw Sophie’s Choice has nothing to do with a certain fireman who you’ve been sleeping with for a month and who ran out of the ball before the bachelor auction looking for you?”

  Jane scowled. “What have you heard about it?”

  “There are a couple rumors.” Sharon blew a bubble, sucked it back in. “One is that you’re the secret mama to Chance’s son, but because of your drug addiction, you gave Josh up to Chance and never looked back. You heartless bitch,” she teased.

  Jane dropped her face into her hands. “And the other?”

  “That Chance asked you to marry him and because you don’t want to be a mother, you dropped him.” Sharon shook her head. “That’s the one Leon’s spreading, but it sounded fishy to me.”

  Jane sputtered. “How did Leon get that—” She rubbed her temples. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to get mad at Leon, too, even if he is a moron.”

  “So what did happen?”

  Picking up her headset, Jane twisted the cord around her finger. “I overheard Chance and his sister talking about him marrying me in order to keep custody of Josh. Apparently having a two-parent household sways judges in their consideration.”

  “And he never discussed this with you?” Sharon asked. She whistled at Jane’s head shake. “So he led you on, acting like it was all a whirlwind romance when he really just wanted a baby mama?”

  Christ, put like that, it sounded horrible. “Well . . .”

  “That’s fraud. Fraud and a con job.” Sharon’s red lips thinned. “I say tonight after work, we go out drinking. Then we find your con man, lure him out of his house, and—” Sharon ground her fist into her open palm.

  “Give him an Indian burn?”

  “No! We kick his ass. His hard, chiseled ass.” Sharon’s eyes went soft. “Since you’re not seeing him anymore, you can tell me. Under that uniform, is he as hot as he looks?”

  Jane’s stomach plummeted. “Hotter.” And she was never going to see it again.

  “Nothing to ruin my fantasies? No third nipple or double toe?”

  “I don’t even know what that is, but no, he’s pretty perfect.” Damn him. “But what are you doing fantasizing about my . . .” Ex-boyfriend, ex-lover, ex-friend. She hated all those exes. “My almost fiancé?” Yeah, like that didn’t sound pathetic at all.

  Sharon raised a waxed eyebrow. “You’re sounding awfully touchy for a woman who just dumped the man. What’s the matter? You’re not still attached to the slime, are you?”

  “He’s not slime.” Jane felt her temper rise with her body temperature. “He’s just worried about losing his son.”

  “Wait.” Her friend’s brow drew down. “I thought we were at the point where we bash the ex. Why are you defending him?”

  “I’m not defending him.”

  “You sure about that? Because it kinda sounds like you are.” She rested her head on her forearms. “You got in deep, didn’t you?”

  Shoulders slumped, Jane rubbed her forehead. “Sometimes it feels like with Chance, I never got out of it. I think I’ve loved him since high school. I don’t want to believe he used me, but I know what I heard.”

  “Well, how does Chance explain it?” Sharon asked.

  Jane sucked her bottom lip into her mouth.

  Sharon cocked her head. “You did let Chance defend himself, right?”

  Crickets chirped.

  “Sweet Jesus. You don’t think you owed him that much?” The condemnation in her friend’s eyes shamed Jane.

  Jane poked at a notepad, pushing it across her desk. “I didn’t want to hear his excuses. All they’d do is insult me more.”

  Walking around the cubicle, Sharon came to stand in front of Jane. She looked down on her with sympathy. “Or maybe you don’t want to hear that he didn’t con you. You’re using this as an excuse to cut and run.”

  “Why the hell would I do that?” Jane got to her feet, not liking her friend’s height advantage. She also didn’t like how reasonable she sounded. “I wanted nothing more than for Chance to be the guy I thought he was, to have a future with him.”

  “Honey, ever since I’ve known you, you’ve always sabotaged your romances.” She raised a hand at Jane’s protest. “First there was that Neanderthal from Clarion Township. Yo
u knew there was no future in that, but you wasted four months with him. And he didn’t even show you a good time while you were dating.”

  “Marco wasn’t that bad.” He’d been worse. He’d grunt at her to pass the ketchup, and kissed like a fish.

  “Please. He was barely literate. And you kept saying you thought he had a good soul underneath his rough exterior.” Sharon snorted. “But he was crap all the way through.”

  “Okay, that’s one. But—”

  “And then there’s Leon,” Sharon continued.

  “Leon’s not a Neanderthal. He actually is a nice guy.”

  Shaking her head, Sharon sighed. “A nice guy who for the past eight months you’ve been going out with twice a week, knowing there was no way in hell you wanted a future with him. He was the safe date who kept you from having to think about going out with other men. You put yourself on the shelf.”

  “Hey.” Jane’s jaw dropped open. “I had fun with Leon.”

  “Playing board games.” Tilting her head, Sharon gave her the stink eye.

  “It was still fun.” Most of the time. Depending on the game. And when Leon didn’t get too serious about it. Which he usually did.

  “No kissing. For eight months.” Sharon crossed her arms as if the argument was won. And it was. Jane didn’t have a counter to that annoying fact. Christ, had she been subconsciously sabotaging her love life? Was she one of those people who kept throwing up roadblocks in front of their own happiness? She hated those people.

  Groaning, Jane fell back into her chair. Crap. She was one of those people. “Maybe I like being single and that’s why I don’t really want a relationship.” She tried to salvage a victory. “There’s nothing wrong with not getting married.”

  “Nothing at all,” Sharon agreed. “Except you’re not that person who doesn’t want to get married. Don’t pretend that you are.”

  “I hate you,” Jane said, no heat in her voice.

  Sharon grinned, her white teeth a beautiful contrast with her dark skin. “You love me. And if you love Chance, you need to give him, well, uh, a chance to explain.” She wrinkled her nose. “His name’s kinda annoying, though.”

  The phone rang and Sharon darted back into her cube to answer. Jane spun in her chair until the headset cord twisted around her body, then turned back the other way. What Sharon said was reasonable. She should have let Chance explain. So why hadn’t she? Because she didn’t want to hear his excuses, or because she was scared of reaching for the brass ring?

  And there was no doubt in her mind that for her, Chance was the brass ring. If he hadn’t tried to trick her into a marriage. And that was a very big if.

  The phone rang, and Jane settled the headset on her hair. “This is 9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”

  “Jane? Is that you?” a small voice asked.

  “Josh?” Bolting up straight, she scanned her computer screen, impatient for the data to pop up. “Are you okay? Is it your aunt?”

  “Nooo.” There was a scraping sound, then the rustle of fabric against fabric.

  “Then what’s wrong, buddy?” A phone number appeared on her screen, but no address information. He was calling from a cell. It would take longer to fix his location.

  “Me and Mommy are out. Some men are yelling at her.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I think they’re bad men.”

  “Where are you, sweetie? Are you at a restaurant?” Drumming her fingers on the desk, Jane tried to make the address appear through force of will. Why was it taking so long?

  “I’m in the car. Mommy and the men are outside.”

  “Look around you. Do you see anything you recognize?” Jane asked.

  “Nuh-uh. We left Pineville.”

  Jane’s pulse raced. Where the hell was Annette taking Josh? Was she driving away with him?

  “He’s grabbing her arm,” Josh yelled, outrage in his high voice. “I’m going out.”

  “No!” She took a deep breath, ignoring Sharon, who’d popped her head over the wall in question. In a more controlled tone, she said, “Stay where you are, buddy. Stay out of sight.” The address finally, finally, appeared on the screen. “Help is coming your way.”

  “I want my dad.” The fear in Josh’s voice broke her heart.

  “And you’re going to see him real soon.” Jane pounded on her keyboard, alerting the police, and scribbled a note to Sharon. “I’m going to put you on the phone with my friend Sharon, and she’s going to stay on the line until help arrives. I want you to stay on the phone with her. Can you do that for me?”

  Sharon hustled around the cubicle and sat in Jane’s seat when she got up. She motioned for the headset. Jane waited for Josh to agree before tossing the headset at her friend. Grabbing her keys, she ran from the courthouse.

  Josh needed help, and sitting in dispatch just didn’t cut it.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chance pounded his fists into the heavy bag hanging in the corner of the fire station’s garage. The tape on his right hand had been scraped away, and he was leaving little red marks on the bag every time he hit it. The guys would love that. Hitting around his bloodstains.

  Wrapping his left arm around the bag, he threw uppercuts into its midsection, like he was eviscerating some poor dude’s gut. A hand clapped onto the back of his neck, pulling him away.

  Chance whirled, a curse at the tip of his tongue. The chief stood before him, the look on his face telling Chance he wouldn’t put up with any crap. Chance sucked a deep breath down into his stomach, tried to calm the roiling mess of vipers that had taken up residence there.

  “Busting your hand isn’t going to help with your situation,” Finnegan said. “It’s only going to put you out of commission. And since we save lives around here, that’s going to piss me off.” He shoved a bottle of water at Chance. “Want to talk about it?”

  Shaking his head, Chance opened the bottle, swallowed deeply.

  “Too damn bad. Follow me.” The chief spun on his heel and stalked out of the garage into the driveway. Chance followed, feeling as sulky as Josh when told to go to bed.

  Finnegan faced him. “I think we’re far enough away from eavesdroppers.”

  Peering back into the dim garage, Chance didn’t see anyone, but knew the chief was right. The guys were in the living room, and as soon as the chief left to talk to Chance, they would have been pressed against the door, eager to hear any dirt. Especially Martinez.

  “Now”—Finnegan crossed his arms—“I understand you have a problem with your lady.”

  Chance kept his face impassive. “No problems. And no lady.”

  The chief snorted. “From the beggar to the king, we’ve all got problems. Now stop bullshitting me and tell me if there’s anything I can do to help.”

  “No.” Chance ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “There’s nothing. Jane misheard something and won’t let me explain her mistake. She ended it. Stubborn, bullheaded woman,” he bit out.

  “That’s a quality that any woman who sticks with you is going to need,” Finnegan said. When Chance glared at the chief, he shrugged, unapologetic. “Jane’s what, five two?”

  Chance wrinkled his forehead. “Five six. Why?”

  “Still small,” Finnegan said. “Hold her down. Make her listen.”

  A laugh escaped Chance. He tried to picture that scenario. It didn’t end well for some of his most sensitive, and prized, parts. And he’d never thought of Jane as small. With her quiet strength, her innate kindness, she’d always seemed larger than life. And by her side, Chance had always felt like he could take on the world.

  Until this morning. When she’d cut him into little bits and casually tossed him aside.

  He needed to pound the bag some more. “Are we done here?”

  “Not by a long shot, boyo.” The Irish was coming up. Finnegan narrowed his eyes. “You’ll bloody listen to what I say and then go fix it.”

  Chance gripped his hips. “I can’t just fix it. Jane needs—”

  “The
girl needs to hear you love her. Edith says she’s been in love with you for a decade.” Placing a hand on Chance’s shoulder, the chief squeezed. “You went out, got married, had a whole other life without her. It sounds like she’s always been waiting for you. Of course she’s going to be insecure, be looking for reasons why you don’t care for her. She needs to hear how you feel.”

  “She hasn’t been in love with me all this time,” Chance said, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat. “She couldn’t have been.” Could she? Those moments, when his marriage was going to hell and his thoughts had drifted back to the woman who’d always made him happy, his Janey-girl, had she been thinking of him, too? Had they always been connected?

  “Edith says she hasn’t had one serious relationship since you left.” Finnegan blew out a breath. “She’s going to kick my arse for telling you all this.” His eyes lit up. “But I have ways to make her forgive me.”

  Yeah, Chance didn’t need to know that. Edith had always acted like a second mom to him. He hoped the chief made her happy, but didn’t want to think about how he was making her happy.

  Finnegan clapped him on the back. “If your girl is anything like her mother, she’s worth fighting for. Even if she is a pain in the butt every once in a while.”

  Chance’s shoulders unbunched. Yeah, she was worth it. He didn’t care about his plan for the future staying on schedule. He’d marry Jane tomorrow or in ten years, whenever she’d let him, but he knew she was a part of his future. She had to be. He and Josh wouldn’t be happy without her.

  So, like the chief said, he’d make her listen. Although the idea of sitting on her so she couldn’t ignore him was appealing, he knew he wouldn’t have to. He’d wear her down eventually. Get her to listen. It had only been two days since the fundraiser. She still hadn’t had time to cool off properly.

  Once she did, she’d give him a chance to explain.

  If she didn’t, then he’d sit on her. Or tie her to his bed. Heat flooded his body, and Chance smiled. He could get behind that idea.

  “I don’t even want to know what you’re thinking,” Finnegan said. He took a step back, crossed his arms. “She is the daughter of the woman I love, so behave, or I’ll be forced to kick your arse.” Raising his eyebrow, he shrugged. “But do what you need to, to get her back.”