Flare Up

by Shannon Stacey

  “How long are you going to let that possibility be a part of your relationship, though? Have you looked into him? I mean, what if you two are up here worrying about him, and he’s wherever he is, starting a new life for himself?”

  “I don’t know, Mom. I know he’s in Virginia and has to meet with a parole officer or whatever. But it’s not really my place to dig deeper unless Wren wants to. He’s not somebody we really want to talk about, but we can’t not think about him, so... I don’t know.”

  “Her past is a hard thing to move beyond, I’m sure. When there’s a concrete problem, you can fix it. But fear is...it’s personal and doesn’t always make sense to other people.” She shook her head. “It’s going to take time and trust and patience to get past that, I think. In time, her fear will fade.”

  Talking to his parents always centered him, and he gave her a long hug. “Thank you for giving her another chance.”

  “As long as you’re happy, honey.” She sounded a little sniffly, but then she backed up and smiled. “And she loved snowmobiling, which is good. You guys will be coming back a lot more often in the winter. You should try to get more time off around Christmas so we can all go out riding together.”

  “Now who’s on the interstate?” he teased. But if he was being honest with himself, he was already looking forward to it.

  Christmas was nine months away, so if he and Wren made this work, bringing her home would be a big deal. He’d brought a few girlfriends home with him in the past, but never for the holidays. Christmas was a very big deal to the Cutter family and he’d always known he wouldn’t bring a girlfriend home in December unless she was going to be a part of his family.

  That old hurt made its way under his skin as they went back to the kitchen. Not even an old hurt, really, but one that was starting to heal if he didn’t pick at it.

  Proposing to her at Christmas had been his plan from the time he decided she was the only one for him. Maybe on the front porch if it was warm enough. Or in front of the fireplace after his parents went to bed if it wasn’t.

  Wren was rinsing her coffee mug in the sink when he walked into the kitchen and the smile she gave him lit up her face and obliterated the faint sense of sadness that had gripped him.

  He had new dreams now, and he wasn’t going to let a broken dream from their past tarnish the future.

  “Everything okay?” she asked, giving him a questioning look.

  He walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned back against him, setting the coffee mug upside down in the dish drainer, and he kissed the side of her neck.

  “Everything is better than okay,” he said.

  “I almost wish we didn’t have to leave yet. It’s so quiet and peaceful here, and who cares if the only delivery place has crappy pizza when your mom can cook like that?”

  “It means a lot to me that you like it here.” He kissed her neck again, nipping with his teeth this time. “But it’s still cold to sneak out to the barn, if you know what I mean.”

  By the time the bags were in the car and it was time to say goodbye, Grant had mixed feelings. On the one hand, being out of the city and showing Wren where he was from was as relaxing as he’d hoped. On the other, it was hell sleeping in separate rooms. Not that he really wanted to get busy under his mom’s roof, but he liked holding her. He liked the sound of her soft breathing and waking up next to her.

  After hugging both of his parents, he asked them to tell his brother he’d visit him and the family next time he was up. He hadn’t wanted to overwhelm Wren the first time.

  Then he watched each of them hug Wren. They’d developed an affection for her during their few meetings before, and there was no sign now of the distance they’d kept the day before.

  “Text your sizes to Jill and she’ll keep an eye out for gear that’ll fit you,” his dad told Wren as they walked out to the Jeep. “You’ll need your own so we can ride together. And Grant, you help her find a good helmet that fits.”

  “I will,” he said. “Keep that two-up in running shape for us, okay?”

  “Absolutely. We’ll see you soon, and drive safe.”

  Once they were on the road, he glanced over at Wren, who was thankfully sitting still in the passenger seat. No more nervous fidgeting. “Glad to be heading home?”

  “Kind of.” She smiled. “I wouldn’t have minded staying a few more days, to be honest. Not only because I slept so amazingly well or had fun snowmobiling, but because it was nice reconnecting with them. I know that’s important to you.”

  “They’re your biggest fans again,” he said, chuckling. “Except for me, of course. I was already your biggest fan, but not hating snowmobiling really elevated you to a whole new level.”

  She laughed. “You have interesting standards.”

  “I didn’t like kissing you goodnight and then having to go sleep alone, though. That’s not fun.”

  “I’m sure we can make up for the lost time.”

  He looked over and arched an eyebrow. “Can we start tonight?”

  “I’m afraid if I say yes, you’re going to rack up the speeding tickets on the way home.”

  “Between being a firefighter and my natural charm, I can probably talk my way out of a ticket.” When she snorted, he chuckled. “Just being honest.”

  “Just get us back to Boston in one piece and then we’ll see where that natural charm gets you.”

  Grant shifted in his seat and then decided it might be a good day to use the cruise control.

  * * *

  “I told you I wouldn’t get a speeding ticket.”

  Wren rolled her eyes as Grant dropped their bags on the floor and locked the apartment door behind them. “Seriously, what are the chances you get stopped by a cop whose sister’s dog was rescued from a tree by Engine 59 and Ladder 37?”

  “I’d say the chances are pretty good since it just happened.”

  “Why was a dog even stuck in a tree? How does that happen?”

  “He jumped off the roof of the porch and landed on the branch.”

  “What was he doing on the—” She stopped and held up her hand. “Never mind. I don’t even want to know.”

  He took her coat and hung it in the closet with his and then lined their boots up on the mat, which made her smile. Grant wasn’t really into being neat. He just subscribed to the theory of touching everything once. Mail didn’t get tossed on the counter to sort later. He sorted it standing over the trash can. Junk got tossed and bills went into the bill stand. Coats and boots scattered around to be put away later didn’t make any sense to him.

  She had a tendency to touch things a lot more than once before they were finally put away, but one of the benefits of not owning much was that her room at Patty’s didn’t look cluttered. The things she had scattered around Grant’s apartment probably drove him crazy because touching them once didn’t do any good if they didn’t have a place they belonged.

  “I’m beat,” he said, dropping onto the couch.

  “It was a long day. Snowmobiling and then driving.” She gave him a sideways look as she sat next to him. “I’m not sure which you drove faster. The snowmobile or the Jeep.”

  “The Jeep. Usually I’d say the sled, but I didn’t want to scare you the first time out.” He turned his head to grin at her. “Next time I’ll take you on the lake and open it up a little.”

  “That sounds...” She wasn’t sure. “Exciting and dangerous and scary and fun?”

  “Exactly.”

  He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Wren looked at his profile, loving his face when he was totally relaxed. She loved his face all the time, of course, but she especially loved seeing him in moments other people rarely got to see.

  She put her hand on his thigh, idly stroking the length of it through his jeans. He didn’t open his eyes, but she saw the way the corner of his m
outh quirked upward for a second. He wasn’t that tired.

  When she strayed a little farther north, brushing her hand over his zipper, he breathed in sharply. And when she popped the button on his jeans, he opened his eyes.

  She gave him a saucy smile, or what she thought was saucy, anyway. It must have been close enough because he unzipped his jeans and lifted his ass off the couch enough to shove them and his boxer briefs down. She had to help get them over his knees before he could kick them away, and then she turned all of her attention to the really impressive erection he’d gotten going in the last minute.

  Running the flat of her palm up the length of him, she felt it twitch against her hand before she ran her thumb over the tip. Then she got into a comfortable position and ran her tongue over the spot her thumb had grazed. Grant moaned and slid his fingers into her hair.

  “No,” she told him. “No touching me or I stop.”

  “Fuck.” The word was harsh, almost guttural, but she didn’t care. He liked to torment her. She could do the same. And he didn’t like it, but he moved his hands.

  As a reward, she covered him with her mouth and slowly drew him in. When she raised her head, she swirled her tongue over the tip before taking him in again. Again and again she worked him with her mouth, until she felt the weight of his hand on her head.

  Wren stopped instantly, lifting her face to give him a stern look. He made a deep, frustrated sound, but took his hand away.

  She rewarded him by running her tongue up the length of his erection and circling the tip before taking him deep against her throat in one thrust. He groaned and she curled her hand around him so her fingers followed her mouth, up and down his shaft.

  She purposely let her hair fall, shielding her face from his view. It would be torturous for him, she knew. He liked to watch her mouth on his dick. His hand lifted and he clenched and unclenched his fingers, but he didn’t touch her.

  “Jesus, Wren. Please.”

  She smiled around his cock before lifting her head to look into his pleading eyes. “Please what?”

  “Let me touch you. Your hair...” He cleared his throat. “I want to touch your hair.”

  Wren knew exactly what he wanted to do with her hair. “Yes, you can touch my hair.”

  The second her lips touched the tip of his erection again, he plunged his hands into her hair. He gathered it as if he was making a ponytail and then turned his wrist so it wrapped around his right hand. Gripping it hard, but not enough to make her wince, he slowed her as she took his length into her mouth.

  Then he tugged again, pulling her head slowly back up. Over and over, her hair wound around his hand, he guided her mouth over him. And each time she took him in, he pushed just that little bit to give himself that rush of control. He knew her limits, and all she had to do was slap his leg and he’d release her.

  When he wrapped his left hand around his dick and gave it a long, slow stroke—using her hair to hold her mouth at the top—she knew he was close. She squeezed her thighs together, trying not to feel that rush of heat because this was about him, but it wasn’t easy. Very few things turned her on like the sight of Grant stroking himself. He was so much rougher with it than she could bring herself to be.

  He groaned as his dick slid through the tight grip of his hand, and he forced her head down. Her lips bumped the curl of his finger and thumb, and they moved in unison—her mouth and his hand—faster and harder until his hips jerked and he came in hot spurts against her throat.

  She swallowed, feeling in his grip the effort it took not to push her head down and thrust harder until the orgasm passed.

  Finally, he opened his hand and her hair slid free of his grasp, falling like a cloud around her face. Panting, he pulled her upright, yanking the throw blanket over his lap at the same time.

  He kissed her hair, and then kissed it again, his hand running up and down her back. Wren curled against his side, a satisfied smile on her face. She loved being able to rock him so completely with just her mouth.

  “That was...holy shit.”

  She chuckled. “I feel like holy shit is basically your sexual gold standard.”

  “You’re not wrong. I would try to come up with something more elegant, but my brain’s a little fuzzy right now.”

  “Good. Close your eyes and rest for a bit.”

  “Nope.” He shook his head, but she could already feel the muscles in his body relaxing. “Give me a few minutes and then I’m going to take you to bed and pay you back for that.”

  “Take a nap,” she said. “You’ll want to be well-rested.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  About forty minutes after Wren left for work the next morning, Grant couldn’t take the thought of being cooped up in the apartment all day. He had some cleaning to do, since he’d been gone over the weekend and hadn’t exactly been doing a great job of keeping up even before that. He’d had more important things on his mind than the expiration dates on things in the fridge.

  After considering his options for the day, he picked up his phone and shot a text to Gavin.

  Cait working today?

  It was a few minutes before he got a response.

  Yeah. What’s up?

  Bored. Wanna hit the gym?

  If you want to work out instead of eating, something must be on your mind. Meet you there in an hour?

  He hadn’t come up with the gym idea for any reason other than wanting to work out, or so he thought. Gavin was right, though. He usually went for restaurants over the gym, so maybe he did have some stuff to work through.

  Sounds good.

  An hour later, they met up in the locker room of their usual gym. It wasn’t a pretty place, by any means, but it had the basic workout stuff, didn’t have exorbitant fees and nobody was trying to sell them vegetable smoothies on their way out.

  “I’m going to take a wild guess and say you want to hit the heavy bag today,” Gavin said as they tied their sneakers and stowed their street clothes in lockers.

  “I could go for that.”

  “How bad is it?”

  Grant grinned at his best friend. “It’s not bad. It’s good. In fact, it’s so good it’s got me on edge because I don’t know if I’m rushing things, and I need something physical to do while I sort it out.”

  “Yeah, you definitely need to hit the bag for that.”

  Luckily, nobody had beat them to it and after putting his gloves on, he squared up in front of it.

  Gavin stood behind the bag to steady it. “Talk while you hit, dude.”

  He took a few shots at it first, warming up. The thoughts were such a jumble in his head, he wasn’t sure he could get them out of his mouth in a way that made sense.

  “I want Wren to move in with me,” he said finally, because that seemed to be the loudest thought in his mind lately.

  “Have you asked her?”

  He punched the bag hard enough to feel it in his shoulder. “No.”

  Gavin let him hit the bag a few more times before he prompted him. “Is there a reason you haven’t asked her, if that’s what you want? I assume you’re not sure if it’s what she wants?”

  “She can be hard to read,” he admitted. “I know that’s what she wants, but I’m not sure if she wants it now.”

  “It’s not like it’s a yes or no question and if she says no, that’s it.” Grant paused to give his friend a look, and Gavin rolled his eyes. “Okay, so living together was a messy issue for Cait and me, but it was a totally different situation. There’s no reason you and Wren can’t have a conversation about it.”

  “We had a great time up at my parents’ house. Then we came home and went to bed and it was great. And then she got up this morning and left to, and I quote, go home so she could get ready for work. It sucked.”

  “It’s not a mystery why you want her to move in with you.” He g
runted when Grant hit the bag a little harder than he had been. “The question is why you haven’t brought it up yet. And it can’t really be that you don’t know if it’s what she wants because you can’t know unless you actually ask her. Something’s holding you back.”

  “I don’t know what it is.” He dropped his arms to his side and shook them out. “I know we were going to take it slow and moving in with me already wouldn’t be slow. It’d be pretty damn fast if we were actually dating for the first time. But we’re not dating for the first time, and it’s hard to separate the first time from this time.”

  “Obviously. I mean, yeah, you try not to think about the five months she was gone and you want to start fresh, but the time you were together before she left still happened. You guys were together a long time. Like, what, almost a year?”

  “Less than that, but a long time, yeah.” He’d been building a friendship and then a romantic relationship with Wren for months before he’d told anybody, but once he’d let himself fall in love with her, he’d fallen fast and hard. “You can see why it’s so fucked up.”

  “I don’t think it matters how long it has or hasn’t been. All that matters is what makes the two of you happy.”

  Grant raised his gloves again, but then he just rested them on the bag and looked at Gavin. “If she moves in with me—if we take that step and officially have a home together—it would hurt so much more if she took off again.”

  Gavin looked back at him for a long moment and then gave a sad shake of his head. “You’re the one who told me she has no reason to do that again.”

  “And you’re the one who pointed out she really didn’t have a good reason to do it the first time.”

  “We’ve been friends a long time and I know two things about you without a doubt. One, you’re rarely led astray when you follow your gut, but you overthink things to death. And two, you are absolutely and completely in love with Wren Everett.”

  “So you think I’m overthinking this?”

  “I don’t know. All I can do is make observations because I can’t see the future. But I think if your gut instinct was that she might take off again, you wouldn’t have gotten involved with her a second time at all, never mind be thinking about living with her.”