Hot to the Touch

by Jaci Burton

  “Oh.” Kal picked up a game controller and joined in the game. “Yeah, we were damn lucky that night. One, we didn’t die. Two, Dad rescued us.”

  “And then for some reason that still escapes me, he liked you two as much as he liked me,” Rafe said, coming over to sit on the other side of Jackson. “Though to this day I still have no idea why.”

  Jackson shoved his shoulder into Rafe’s. “Asshole.”

  Rafe laughed. “Dickhead.”

  “No, Mom saw me and decided I was the prettiest thing she’d ever seen,” Kal said. “Sweet, too. She couldn’t resist me. I had to convince her to take you two. Don’t tell her I told you. She made me promise not to.”

  Jackson rolled his eyes. “You’re both wrong. Dad picked me. It took a lot of finagling on my end to bring you two along. I’ve been paying them ever since.”

  “Who’d ever want you?” Rafe asked. “With your ugly face and those skinny white legs.”

  “My skinny white legs?” Jackson looked up at Rafe. “Look at your fucking hair. Sticks up all over. You’re an embarrassment to the Donovan name.”

  “Please. My hair is luxe, dude.”

  “No, my hair is luxe,” Kal said.

  “Your hair is wiry and weird.”

  Kal slanted a look at him. “You would insult a black man like that?”

  “No. I would insult my brother like that.”

  Kal laughed. “I’m killing you in this game.”

  “We’ll see.”

  The insults went on for over an hour while they played the game. It was the best part of being brothers with these guys. They could offend each other in the worst ways, but Jackson knew—they all knew—that without each other it would be like a part of each of them was missing.

  Jackson heard the garage door open and close. Shortly thereafter, Becks poked her head in the game room.

  “Hey, I’m home. Oh, hi, everyone. I didn’t expect you all to be here.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Rafe asked. “Did you and Jackson have a hot date planned?”

  Becks offered up an enigmatic smile as she exchanged glances with Jackson before turning her attention back to Rafe. “I have no comment. What are you all doing?”

  “Insulting each other,” Kal said. “Playing a game. Care to join in?”

  “Actually, no. I’m thirsty and I had an idea for a sketch I want to do that came to me on the drive home, so I’m going to grab my sketchbook and work on that while I cool down. Lord, it’s hot outside today.”

  Kal leaned back. “Sure is. I mowed the lawn earlier and nearly died.”

  “Really?” Rafe asked. “You nearly died? Because you look fine to me.”

  “Whatever, asshole,” Kal said. “Hey, Becks, we invited some friends over for grilling and a pool party tonight. You okay with that?”

  “Well, first, it’s your house so you can always do whatever you want. Second, I’m totally okay with that. It sounds fun.”

  She started to exit the room, but Kal stopped her.

  “Hey, Becks?” Kal yelled over the loud noise of warfare coming from the TV.

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s your house, too, now. So you always get a say in what goes on around here.”

  She paused before answering, then leveled a warm smile at Kal. “Thank you for saying that. I appreciate it. And I’m looking forward to tonight. See you later, guys.”

  Jackson wanted to get up and go to her, but his brothers would complain that he abandoned them in the middle of battle, so he stayed put.

  “It meant a lot to her that you said that, Kal,” Jackson said.

  Kal didn’t pull his attention away from the screen. “We’ve all felt unwanted, like we’re temporary and didn’t belong. She belongs here with us.” Kal glanced over at Jackson. “Like family. She needs to know that.”

  Jackson smiled at his brother. “Yeah.”

  “Don’t think I’m gonna hug you or anything. And pay attention to the game, man. You just got us killed.”

  “Dammit.” It was hard to pay attention to anything when his mind was on Becks.

  Guess it was time for him to focus.

  * * *

  • • •

  Becks went upstairs to change clothes and wash up. Summer in Ft. Lauderdale could be so hot, and this summer was no exception. Unless you spent all your time at the beach where the ocean breeze cooled you down, the humidity was unbearable.

  She washed her face and wound her hair up into a bun on top of her head, then changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top, making sure to put her bikini on underneath. Now she felt much better. She grabbed her sketchbook and pencil and went downstairs, fixed herself a large glass of iced tea and sat at the kitchen table.

  While she’d been talking with Martin, the new tattoo artist who was going to be renting space in her shop, they’d chatted about some of the ink they’d done. She’d looked over his portfolio, falling instantly in love with his work.

  Martin’s work was incredibly detailed. He was in his midthirties and he’d been tattooing for over fifteen years. He’d started right out of high school. He was like some kind of art prodigy, told her he’d been drawing as long as he could remember. But he never wanted to open his own storefront because he preferred to stay on the move, drawing inspiration from locales. He really liked the location of her shop near the beach, and she was stoked to have him work at her shop. She’d known who he was the minute he’d come into her shop. He traveled all over, but he’d been in Florida for a couple of years now.

  She’d run into him a couple of times at some of the local tattoo conventions where he’d put on demonstrations. The guy never had trouble gathering a crowd, not only because of his work but also because he was one of those guys who was incredibly attractive. He was bald, muscular, had big blue eyes and an engaging smile, plus the kind of personality that made people want to spend time with him. Martin always had eager customers.

  He also had an adorable pixie of a wife and two beautiful kids. He talked a lot about his wife, who modeled several of his tattoos. The pics he shared were incredible.

  And those kids, two boys, were replicas of their dad. With hair, of course.

  He was going to be an incredible draw for Skin Deep, and hopefully she could pick up some new business for herself in the process.

  She opened her sketchbook, so inspired by talking to him that she couldn’t wait to make a few drawings.

  “Got some new ideas?”

  She looked up to find Jackson standing over her. “Oh. Yeah.” She went back to it, her mind overflowing with thoughts of the sand, the way the ocean curled into it when the waves hit the beach. She needed to get her mind straight, to picture it just right at sunrise when the shadows were lifting—

  “So what are you working on?”

  She snapped her head up. “A drawing. Sorry, Jackson, I’d really like to get this down while the thought is fresh in my mind.”

  “Oh. Sure.”

  Jackson walked away and she went back to it. She followed the curve of shadow, using colored pencils to get the coloring right. She often put drawings in her portfolio, because sometimes a customer would have an idea in their head, and a drawing would help them cement that idea, or help her explore that idea with a client further.

  She drew the waves as they curled upward, some just flowing over the sand, a few crabs skittering over the beach and the sun rising.

  She jotted down a few more sketches. A mermaid on a rock sunning herself, her head tilted back, her hair flowing down her back, the strands so many different colors she couldn’t grab enough pencils to shade them in fast enough. It was as if each strand were alive, curling one over the other, nearly jumping off the page with animation.

  That one turned out beautifully. She did another one, this time of the park, with the tree limbs bending over in protecti
on of tulips popping up in the grass. And another of a stretch of highway, road signs signaling the start of adventure.

  Martin had been so inspiring today. It had been a good talk. Hopefully the first of many.

  A new day. A new beginning. After that frenzied batch of sketching, she felt settled. She closed her sketchbook and went to refill her glass of tea. She walked into the game room.

  It was empty.

  Huh.

  She went into the family room, thinking they might have gone in there to watch TV, but they weren’t in there.

  She made her way back into the kitchen and no one was in there, either. Okay.

  She remembered Jackson coming up to talk to her, but she’d brushed him off because she’d been midsketch. She’d been so involved she had no idea what she’d even said to him. God, she hoped it hadn’t been something awful. When she got involved in taking an idea from her head to the page, she got so focused she could be blunt about not being interrupted. Jackson wouldn’t know that, and she had to find him so she could explain that to him. She looked out into the backyard and saw the guys.

  As well as a bunch of other people, too.

  Wait. People were here now? How had she missed that?

  She knew when she got into her head, the entire world could pass her by. But had she really been oblivious to people coming in?

  Maybe they’d come in through the side gate. That had to be it. Surely she would have noticed—she quickly scanned the crowd. There were about ten people here. She’d have seen all those folks walking by and talking. Wouldn’t she?

  She started out the French doors, then paused, noticing Jackson sitting off to the side of the main group. He was in one of the chaise lounges talking to a rather beautiful redhead, the two of them nestled up close, seemingly in deep conversation.

  Okay. She and Jackson weren’t in any kind of exclusive relationship. Or even in a relationship, exactly. They were roommates. Dating. Not really dating. Did dating today even have a definition? She had no idea. It wasn’t like she’d had a normal upbringing, so what did she know about anything?

  She knew she liked Jackson. She’d always liked Jackson. For the past fifteen years she’d had a crush on Jackson. Though now that they were having sex, she supposed the word crush could be tossed out the window in favor of . . .

  She had no idea what word or phrase described their situation, and now that she’d had her own circular argument she was right back where she’d started—with no clear answers as to where they stood.

  She noticed Rafe heading her way, so she backed away from the door and went to gather up her sketchpad and pencils, hoping he hadn’t noticed her gawking at the door.

  She was just about to make her way to the stairs.

  “You trying to hide from us, Becks?”

  She pivoted, planting a smile on her face. “Hide? Of course not. I was just getting my stuff out of the way. I’ll be right back down so I can meet your friends.”

  “You know you could invite some of your own friends. Remember, this is your house now, too.”

  “Oh. Sure. I guess I could do that.”

  “Maybe your cute real estate agent friend?”

  “Margie?” She gave Rafe a hard stare. “Aren’t you dating someone?”

  “I’m always dating someone.”

  “Then I’m definitely not inviting Margie. She’s looking for love and forever. Not a serial dater, like you.”

  Rafe sent a cockeyed grin her way. “That almost sounded like an insult, Becks.”

  “Not meant as one. But I’m keeping my friends away from you.”

  He laughed. “Noted.”

  As she walked away, he yelled at her.

  “You’re coming back down, aren’t you?”

  “Just putting my stuff away. I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay. Jackson was asking about you.”

  She had no idea why he’d do that since he was occupied by the cute redhead.

  She closed the door to her room, then stilled, realizing what she’d been doing.

  “Okay, Becks. Time to stop acting like the jealous girlfriend.”

  That wasn’t like her at all. She had gone into this . . . whatever it was with Jackson with her eyes wide open, so there was no reason for her to act this way. Time to get her shit together.

  She put her sketchpad and pencils away, then started out the door, but paused. Instead, she went into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror.

  “You look fine, Becks.” Her hair was fine, her makeup, though nearly nonexistent, was fine.

  She was just fine. Not spectacular, but decent enough.

  And no beautiful redhead was going to make her touch herself up, no matter how much she wanted to plump up her hair a bit, add some mascara and maybe a touch of lip gloss. Which would be ridiculous because it was a million degrees outside, her hair was going to fall into a limp mess, and any makeup she did put on would slide down her face and she’d look like a clown.

  This wasn’t a competition. If Jackson wanted her, he’d have to want her looking like this.

  Fine.

  With a sigh of disgust at that feeling of worthlessness that never seemed to go away, she went downstairs, sucked in a breath of courage and opened the door to go outside.

  She thought she’d find Jackson right where she’d seen him—on the chair with the redhead.

  Instead, he was at the grill, beer in hand, talking to a guy she didn’t know. When he saw her, he said something to his friend, who looked over at her and smiled, then wandered away.

  She walked over to him.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey. I’m sorry about earlier.”

  He frowned. “Earlier?”

  “I was sketching. And I get wrapped up in my own head when I’m doing that. I know you came over to talk to me and I don’t know what I said to you, but whatever it was I was probably rude about it. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh. You were busy. It’s okay. It’s your work, Becks. Don’t apologize for that.”

  So he wasn’t mad. Plus, he understood, which was rare. “Thanks.”

  “Get yourself a drink and come hang with me while I cook. Unless it’s too hot over here. You can always go slide into the pool.”

  She took a glance over at the pool. The beautiful redhead was in there with Rafe and Kal and a few other guys.

  She would not be jealous about that.

  “That’s Callie, by the way,” he said. “She’s a fellow firefighter.”

  “Oh.” Okay, so maybe nothing there.

  “And an ex-girlfriend of mine.”

  And now things were even worse. “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah.” He let out a short laugh. “We dated about four years ago. I wasn’t equipped to deal with relationships back then. So we lasted about six months and broke up.”

  “And she still likes you?”

  He gave her a look. “Why wouldn’t she?”

  “I . . . I don’t know. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

  This was going well. She should have just stayed in her room.

  He grasped her hand and held it up to his mouth, brushing his lips over her knuckles.

  “Stop saying you’re sorry. Hang on, I’ll be right back.” He pulled some of the chicken skewers off the grill, laid them on a plate, then took them inside.

  She turned to face the crowd, noticing that Callie wasn’t the only woman. There were actually two others; she just had been so focused on the cute redhead she hadn’t even noticed.

  When he came back, he had two beers in his hand. He handed one to her. “Come on. Let’s go hang out by the pool.”

  “Sure.”

  He took her by the hand, and she hadn’t realized how tight she was holding on.

  “You know, I bought this fo
od for you and I to enjoy a nice quiet dinner together.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah. I was going to surprise you. We’d have chicken skewers, some beer, some conversation.”

  He’d done all that for her? “That’s sweet. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. And then my idiot brothers invited everyone over.”

  She squeezed his hand. “It’s their house, too.”

  “I know. Someday I’m going to ruin their romantic plans.”

  She leaned into him. “You will not.”

  “Oh, mark my words. I will.”

  “My man,” one of the guys said from the pool. “Chicken smells good.”

  “Hey, I’m a master cook.”

  “Is that why you have Kal do all the cooking at the station?”

  “No, I have Kal do the cooking because he’s on ladder. And we all know the ladder guys don’t have enough to do.”

  “Hey, screw you,” Kal said. “I had the fires of hell licking at my ass the other day.”

  “That’s because you didn’t get off the roof when I told you to.”

  “Whatever,” Kal said. “I had it covered.”

  “Yeah,” Jackson said. “Your ass was about to be covered with fire.”

  The guy who spoke up earlier piped up again. “You know you’re not going to win that argument, Kal.”

  Kal tossed a pool volleyball at Jackson, who fielded it easily and threw it back toward his brother. Rafe intercepted it and bonked Kal on the head with it.

  “Is it always like this?” Becks asked.

  “Like what?”

  “You all fighting.”

  “This wasn’t fighting.”

  Rafe pulled himself out of the pool and came up beside them. “Yeah, when we fight? You’ll know it.”

  “So are all these people firefighters?” she asked.

  “Some are,” Jackson said. “And some their families or significant others. Let me introduce you.”

  She met Zep and Mitchell, who Jackson told her rode Engine 6 with him and Rafe. Then she met the beautiful redhead Callie Vassar. She was even more gorgeous up close.

  “Callie’s on Ladder 6 with Kal,” Jackson said.