Hot to the Touch

by Jaci Burton

  “Yeah. Laurel wanted me to go to therapy, but I refused. I said I could handle it and I did.”

  “By pushing the memories down and refusing to remember the past.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And here I’ve been pushing at you to remember.” She leaned against him. “I’m so sorry, Jackson.”

  “No, it’s okay. That catharsis you talked about? I needed it. I needed to remember, to talk about it, to bring it all out into the open. That fear can’t hurt me anymore if I face my memories.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I think I’m sure.”

  She laughed. “Okay. But maybe you should talk to your mom and dad about it.”

  “I probably should. They’ve never pressured me to talk about that night. I never wanted to relive it and no one made me.”

  “Except me.”

  “Babe, you didn’t make me do anything I wasn’t ready to do. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I love you first. In my heart I knew I loved you, but I couldn’t get the words out. Because saying the words meant I could lose you. And then I lost you anyway.”

  “You didn’t lose me. I just thought I had pushed you too hard and you needed some space to sort things out. I already knew you loved me. You didn’t need to say the words.”

  He laughed. “You are an amazing woman, and I’m so damn lucky to have you.” He picked up her hand and kissed it, so grateful that she’d stuck by him, that she was willing to forgive his stupidity.

  “I love you, Becks. I hope you don’t get tired of hearing that.”

  “People like us never get tired of hearing that we’re loved.”

  “You got that right.”

  “I love you, too, Jackson.”

  Her words made his heart want to leap out of his chest.

  “So, you still want the tattoo?”

  “Hell yes, I do. I’ve been thinking about it ever since I woke up and found out you had left. I knew I had to do something to fix what was broken inside me. And the only way to do that was to walk through the fire, to see what I had refused to acknowledge all these years. I had to deal with it and make it a part of me, so it couldn’t haunt me anymore.”

  “I hope it helped.”

  “It helped a lot. Thank you for being here.”

  “You do realize ink is permanent.”

  He leaned over and brushed his lips across hers. “Like you and me.”

  “Oh, Jackson.” She climbed over onto his lap and kissed him, and that passion, that love he always felt whenever he was with her, surrounded him.

  Jackson realized that with Becks, he felt whole. Becks was the piece in his life that had always been missing.

  That was what love was all about.

  EPILOGUE

  Becks pulled the casserole out of the back of her truck and carried it through the front door of Station 6.

  The first person she ran into was Josh Donovan, who looked so sharp in his blue pants and white shirt.

  “Hi, Josh,” she said. “Or should I call you Chief?”

  He laughed. “Since you don’t report to me, Josh is fine. Are you looking for Jackson?”

  “Well, this casserole is for all of you, but yes, I’d like to see Jackson if he isn’t too busy.”

  “You can drop the casserole in the kitchen, and tell anyone who’s in there that I said it’s for dinner.”

  “Duly noted. Sir.”

  He laughed, then leaned over to brush a kiss to her cheek. “Nice to see you, Becks.”

  “You, too.”

  She went into the kitchen and ran into Rafe and Kal and a few of the other firefighters.

  “Hi, everyone. I brought a chicken enchilada casserole.”

  Rafe got up and took it from her. “You’re the best, Becks.”

  “Yeah, we’re starving,” Kal said.

  “The chief said to tell you to leave it alone, because it’s for dinner.”

  “Dammit.” Rafe took it and put it in the fridge. “Jackson’s in his office.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  She went down the hall and stopped at the window, watching as Jackson worked on his laptop. His brow furrowed as he concentrated on whatever it was he was doing.

  He looked hot and she couldn’t believe he was her man.

  The past several weeks since they’d spoken their love for each other had been nothing short of a fairy tale.

  She’d moved back into the house, though not really back into her room since she spent every night in Jackson’s room, and all her toiletries now sat prominently on his bathroom counter.

  She kept asking him if she was crowding him and all he’d do was pull her into his arms and tell her he liked her in his space.

  She definitely liked being in his space.

  She knocked on the window and he turned around. He smiled and motioned for her to come in.

  He stood and she closed the door behind her.

  “This is a nice surprise.”

  “I brought a casserole.”

  “Did you tell those heathens not to eat it?”

  “Your dad gave orders that it was to be saved for dinner.”

  “He’s the best chief.”

  “Isn’t he?”

  “Have you got a few minutes to sit?”

  She pulled out her phone. “Yes. My first appointment isn’t until one.”

  “Good. Too bad we don’t have any privacy here. Otherwise we could make out or do some other things.”

  She arched a brow. “Other things, huh?”

  “Yeah.” He looked out the window, then slid his hand up her thigh. “You know, those things that make you scream.”

  “I think me screaming might bring some of your coworkers running.”

  “I could kiss you while you were screaming and then no one would hear. Did I mention I have a private bathroom?”

  She took a deep breath. “You’re making this very hard.”

  “You’re making me very hard.”

  He leaned in to kiss her but then quickly leaned back and frowned at the window.

  Becks shifted and then laughed as she saw Rafe’s and Kal’s faces pressed against the window, making goofy faces at them.

  They came into the office.

  “I expect both of you to clean that.”

  “Yes, Lieutenant,” Rafe said, winking at Becks.

  “Did you show her the drawing?” Kal asked.

  Becks looked at Jackson. “He did not. What drawing?”

  “The guys and I have an idea for a tattoo.”

  “Another tattoo?”

  “This time all three of us want the same ink,” Kal said.

  “That’s exciting,” Becks said. “Show me.”

  Jackson opened his desk drawer. “Fortunately Miguel is a better artist than any of us, so we gave him the concept and he drew it out pretty well.”

  He handed it to her and she gasped.

  It had the Maltese Cross and Fire and Rescue written on it, just like their badges, but nestled within that design were three male fists grasped onto each other.

  Because Jackson, Rafe and Kal were all so different in coloring, Becks could easily see the three fists belonged to them.

  And underneath, in bold letters, was Brotherhood by Fire, with flames licking all around the tattoo.

  She looked up at them and smiled, realizing the bond the three of them shared. A bond that could never be broken.

  “Perfect. Let’s do it.”

  TURN THE PAGE TO READ A SPECIAL EXCERPT FROM THE NEXT BROTHERHOOD BY FIRE NOVEL BY JACI BURTON

  IGNITE ON CONTACT

  AVAILABLE FEBRUARY 2020 FROM JOVE

  Flames licked all around Rafe Donovan, the heat from the house fire causing sweat to drip down his face and inside his SCBA mask. Since he couldn’t
wipe his face he blinked instead, clearing the perspiration from his eyes.

  Rafe firmly gripped the lead hose to douse the flames threatening to drop the ceiling on their heads. Tommy Rodriguez had his back, feeding him more line. They soaked the fire in the living room, pushing through the dining room and into the kitchen, driving the beast back.

  “It’s wearing down,” Rafe said, watching as the flames tried to roar, then inched back into the walls as he blasted them with water. “You don’t win today, you bastard.”

  “You tell that fucker, Rafe,” Rodriguez said.

  Fire was his nemesis, the thing that had almost killed him back when he was a kid. It had also saved his life, turned it around and given him a new beginning. But it still had to die. Every day he faced it, it had to die.

  When the flames were finally extinguished, he exhaled. The Engine 6 team did a walk around, pulling down walls to make sure the fire didn’t lurk in the sheetrock, waiting to reignite. He made his way outside and pulled off his mask, sucking in a deep breath of Ft. Lauderdale hot summer air.

  It might be humid as hell, and he might be drenched under his turnout gear, but he’d survived. No one was inside the house when the fire broke out, so he’d call this one a success.

  He looked at the one-story ranch, charred but still standing. The fire had beaten it down a bit, but the old house would come back.

  “Nice job in there.” Jackson Donovan, his brother and his lieutenant, patted him on the back.

  “Thanks.”

  He grinned and headed back to the truck, elation blasting through him as it always did when they defeated a fire.

  He loved his job. If he could do it every day, he would.

  They began to wrap up, folding the hoses and packing up equipment, when smoke started pouring from the roof.

  “Dammit,” Rafe said. How had they missed that? He heard Jackson’s voice yelling at them to get back into the house. He loaded a fresh tank of oxygen on his back and put his mask on, then waited for his backup.

  Rodriguez was right behind him as they returned inside.

  “Be careful in there, all of you,” Jackson said. “I don’t like the looks of that smoke.”

  “Yeah, got it,” Rafe said. He didn’t like the skittering feeling crawling down his back. He had a sixth sense about fire, and which scenes posed a danger. This one didn’t feel right to him. Something was off.

  Inside looked clear, which meant the smoke was hiding in the walls somewhere. Hendricks and Richards were inside, too, helping them inspect. They’d broken off, going in the opposite direction.

  “There’s no heat, no smoke,” Rafe said as they made their way around the house, testing more walls for fire. “So where’s the smoke coming from?”

  “Attic, maybe,” Rodriguez said.

  “Already up in the attic and cleared it,” Hendricks said into his radio. “So whatever we saw, it isn’t up here.”

  Damn. It wasn’t unusual for a fire to snake along the walls, lurking, moving from one location to another. Which meant they’d have to check behind the drywall in every room until they found it and extinguished it. Rafe used his drywall hook to cut open a section of wall, checking for smoke in one of the smaller back bedrooms.

  “Anything?” Jackson radioed.

  “Still looking,” Rafe radioed back. “Not finding anything.”

  “I don’t like this,” Jackson said. “Keep a sharp eye.”

  Rafe was already doing that. The whole team was in here now, cutting through and dragging down sections of walls to search for smoke, looking for hot spots.

  When Rafe got to the closet in the hallway, he felt the door. It was hot, and the paint on the outside of the door was bubbling.

  “There you are,” he whispered to the bubbling closet door, then turned to Rodriguez. “We need to vent this through the roof.”

  He was about to notify Jackson that they were exiting and to bring Ladder 6 up on the roof to vent when he was knocked back on his feet by an explosion.

  And then everything went dark.

  * * *

  • • •

  Busy days in the emergency room at Ft. Lauderdale Medical Center were Carmen Lewis’s jam. If she stayed busy the entire shift, before she knew it she’d be off duty. Of course, demanding days meant sick and injured people, and that part wasn’t great. Then again, the ER was always full.

  She was charting in the station when her friend and coworker Tess Blackstone stopped by. “The patient in room seven is ready for discharge, according to Dr. Lange. Scrip for pain meds and a follow-up with his personal physician in a week. Room six is still waiting for someone to take her up for a CT scan. I just administered another bolus of morphine to room eight with Dr. Chan’s approval.”

  Carmen nodded and updated the patient charts, signing off on the discharge for room seven. “Call CT—again—and tell them we’ve been waiting an hour and a half for that scan. What’s the status on the patient in room three?”

  “Waiting to be taken up for an angiogram.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “I’ll make that call to CT—again,” Tess said, picking up the phone and rolling her eyes at Carmen.

  Carmen grinned, confident Tess would do her job well. All her nurses did. She had the best staff in the hospital, in her opinion. As triage nurse and supervisor of the department, Carmen had her hands in everything in the ER, which meant she was always managing chaos. Just the way she liked it.

  EMTs came in with a firefighter strapped to a stretcher, bringing Carmen to instant alert. She recognized Rafe right away since he and his brothers lived in the house next door to hers. As a nurse, she didn’t panic, but she hated seeing someone she knew on that stretcher.

  His face was covered with ash and grit, but she was happy to see he was awake and seemingly alert as the paramedics took him into room five.

  The attending physician came into the room at the same time to do an assessment.

  “Explosion at a house fire,” EMT Miguel Acosta said. “He took a pretty good blast that knocked him unconscious.”

  Acosta and his fellow EMT Adrienne Smith unstrapped Rafe and moved him from the stretcher onto the ER bed.

  “But as you can see,” Rafe said, “I’m not unconscious now.”

  “Patient was down for approximately three minutes, but roused quickly,” Miguel said.

  “And then he was a royal pain in the ass in the ambulance all the way here,” Smith said, glaring at Rafe. “So he’s alert and oriented times three.”

  “Any vomiting?” Dr. Lange asked.

  “None,” Smith said.

  “Thanks, Adrienne,” Carmen said. “We’ll take it from here.”

  Miguel smiled at Rafe. “Behave yourself.”

  Rafe tried to sit up but Carmen laid a firm hand on his shoulder. “Nope. Stay put until we assess you.”

  Dr. Lange did a physical and neurological exam.

  “No burns, but he does have a bump on the head. No external injuries. Get him set up on an IV and EKG and do his vitals and bloodwork,” Dr. Lange said. “Let’s order a CT scan.”

  She nodded and Dr. Lange stepped out. Carmen went to the cabinet to get the leads and everything else she’d need, then alerted one of the other nurses to bring her IV fluids.

  “I shouldn’t even be here,” Rafe said.

  “You know the protocol, Rafe,” Carmen said, giving him her standard nurse stare. No one ever argued with her stare. It was pretty fierce.

  Rafe, apparently, wasn’t fazed by her glare.

  “Whatever, Carmen. I’m fine.”

  “Sure you are. Let’s get you out of that turnout gear.”

  He grinned. “Getting me naked. Now we’re talkin’.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Can you sit up?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

&nbs
p; She held out her hand. He grasped it and sat up, much too fast for her liking.

  She noticed he winced, and then he wobbled on the table a little.

  “Head hurt?”

  He reached for his forehead, cradling it in his hand. “A little. Damn backdraft caught me unaware and the door knocked me backward. And out cold, I guess.”

  She’d known Rafe and his brothers since they moved next door to her four years ago. Rafe helped her all the time with her grandpa. Over the years they’d grown close, and the thought of him being hurt made her hurt.

  She helped him unlatch his jacket and slide it off. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

  He shrugged out of his coat and Carmen couldn’t help but admire his broad shoulders encased in his tight T-shirt, something she shouldn’t be noticing right now.

  “Can you stand so we can get the rest of your turnout gear off?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hold my hand.”

  His lips curved, revealing his amazing smile. “Carmen, I never knew you were interested.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Up. Hold my hand.”

  But he took her hand and dropped his suspenders, letting the pants fall while he stepped out of his boots.

  The hottest man she knew was undressing in front of her. At least partially undressing. Even in his T-shirt and standard uniform pants, standing this close to him made Carmen feel things she hadn’t felt since—

  Longer than she’d like to admit. Which she wasn’t going to think about because right now Rafe was a patient. And that’s all he was to her.

  “Come on, climb back into bed.”

  “See, you flirting with me like this makes my head feel a lot better.”

  She shot him a look. “At least your sense of humor is still intact.”

  He gave her a lopsided grin. “Always.”

  She got him hooked up to the machines so they could chart his vitals, all of which were ridiculously normal. She checked his eyes, which were dilating normally as well—a very good sign.

  Amy brought Carmen the IV fluid, so she started the IV. Rafe didn’t even flinch when she inserted the needle, which wasn’t a surprise. The guy was tough. She wet a washcloth with warm water and brought it over to clean the soot and grime off of his face.