by Brenda Novak
He’d break this off in a minute, he promised himself. But it was a halfhearted promise at best, and one he didn’t keep. He went on kissing her, doing all he could to make sure she lost her mind the way he was losing his.
Her hair fell over his hands. “We can’t do this,” he murmured as he rubbed his face in those silky waves. “We’re just friends.”
“And you think I’m too young.”
“You are too young.” Nine years was a lot. He would’ve been twenty-five when she was only sixteen. That was nearly a decade. But it didn’t stop him from continuing to kiss her.
“I’m old enough,” she murmured. “Besides, it’s been a long time since you were with someone. So...I’m willing to help you out.”
He slid his lips down her neck. “That’s kind of you.”
“I might as well be the one to end your sexual drought. Someone needs to. And what can it hurt—as long as we both know not to expect anything after it’s over?”
“Right. We both understand,” he breathed as he licked her soft skin.
“People have casual sex all the time.” She sounded breathless as she reached up under his shirt.
“I’m sure they do. And casual is casual.”
“Do you have birth control?”
“I’ve got a few condoms in the bedroom.” He moved his hands lower, to the curve of her hips and around to the swell of her behind. It seemed as if he’d wanted to touch her ass for ages...
“That’s good.” Her voice rose as he used his tongue to caress her breasts where they disappeared into her dress.
“Good?” He didn’t know if she was talking about the condoms or what he was doing to her, but he didn’t really care. Letting go of what little restraint he had left was beginning to sound safe. They had an understanding. They also had some privacy. Where else could someone like Lourdes Bennett go for this type of encounter? She hadn’t had sex for over a month, probably missed it. Kyle remembered how badly he’d missed the physical aspects of a close relationship after Olivia had moved away. Being that active and then having it all come to a halt was hard.
At least Lourdes could trust him not to give her some disease. Or hurt her. Or share intimate details when it was over...
“I’ll take care of you,” he promised.
“I know you will. The way you kiss... It makes me tingle all over. I swear, if every man could kiss like you...”
She never finished that statement, but what she’d said was enough. Hearing such praise made his own excitement skyrocket. Lord knew this type of thing didn’t happen to him every day, not in a place like Whiskey Creek. He’d be a fool to miss out.
Once he’d slid her dress up over her hips, he fingered the silky scrap of fabric that was her underwear, then pressed her lower body more tightly against his.
“Sometimes friends make the best lovers,” she said.
He wondered if she had any experience with that. Because he didn’t. He liked the encounter so far, though. “Feels good to me.”
“Great. Then we’ll just...get rid of these clothes.” Her hands were shaking, and he wasn’t feeling any steadier. “I have to admit I’ve wondered what you’d look like,” she said as she pulled off his shirt.
“You have?”
She kissed his chest. “Haven’t you wondered about me?”
“Only every night.” He caught her hand as she unfastened the buttons on his jeans. “But are you sure this is going to be okay? There’ll be no regret in the morning?”
“No, of course not,” she replied, and that was enough for him. As far as he was concerned, they’d reached the point of no return. He realized now that he’d wanted her from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her, and he was so charged up at finally being able to touch her in this way that he could no longer form coherent thoughts, let alone come up with an argument that might make him choose a different course.
“God, I’m glad the furnace at the farmhouse didn’t work,” he said and brought her down the hall to his room.
* * *
Lourdes hadn’t slept with anyone except Derrick for...years. Before him, she’d been too focused on her career to get involved with anyone. And she’d never been the type to take the risks associated with random hookups. There’d been her high school boyfriend. Then the guy she’d lived with when she first moved to Nashville. They’d had a rocky on-again, off-again relationship that had stemmed mostly from physical attraction, since they’d had nothing else in common. After she broke up with him and moved out, she’d gone long stretches without a love interest.
She was probably looking at another one of those long stretches now—once she returned to Nashville—so she figured she might as well enjoy herself in Whiskey Creek. Kyle wasn’t the kind of man a woman ran into every day. She didn’t agree with Noelle’s methods of trying to keep him, but she could see why his ex was sorry about losing him. Not only was he easy on the eyes, he was solid in every other way—and there was no question that he knew how to arouse a woman.
Just before they reached his bedroom, she pulled him back to her for another kiss—and pressed her face into his warm neck as he unzipped her dress. These days she was constantly plagued by agonizing worries. Everything had such high stakes and dire consequences. But for right now, for this minute, Kyle seemed capable of holding all of that at bay. He made her feel something both powerful and positive, and she wasn’t about to deny herself what she most needed. After what Derrick had done, why should she?
She watched Kyle’s face, noting his anticipation as he tugged her the rest of the way to his room and finished removing her dress. Maybe he was just a friend, but with him, she felt more desirable than she’d ever felt before. He didn’t offer her the outlandish praise or the promises that Derrick had in the beginning. Kyle said nothing. It was the way he touched her that seemed so meaningful.
Goose bumps broke out on her arms as he took the time to look at what he’d revealed. She still had on her bra and panties, but he smiled as though he liked what he saw. In any case, he didn’t take off the rest of her clothes. He kissed her until she was so ready for him to go further she was about to take them off herself—and yet she stiffened when his hand finally slipped inside her panties.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, raising his head in concern.
Nothing was wrong. That was the problem. This was almost too right. What if, in the process of slamming the door on her relationship with Derrick, she ran headlong into a love that could be even more consuming—and ravaging? One that might have the power to make her want to stay in a place like Whiskey Creek?
That was a frightening thought. She’d sworn she’d escape Small Town, USA, that she’d make a career in music, and she had. Why would she ever allow herself to be tempted back? To follow in her mother’s footsteps, after all?
And yet...this wasn’t feeling nearly as mechanical and strictly physical as she’d anticipated. There was a tenderness that could easily be misconstrued...
She should voice her concerns. She didn’t want either of them to get hurt—and what had seemed unlikely a few minutes earlier suddenly didn’t seem so unlikely at all. This was more of an epic event than it should be. But when he murmured that everything was going to be okay, and his mouth came down on hers, coaxing her to relax by giving her a kiss so achingly sweet that she couldn’t help arching into him, she swallowed her fears. And the next thing she knew, they were rolling around in his bed, completely naked as they kissed and touched and tasted.
Part of her wanted to stop, but she couldn’t. She was reveling in the pleasure he seemed to provide so naturally, so intuitively. But it ended far sooner than she expected. He’d just begun to push inside her when someone banged on the front door, yelling in a voice filled with panic, “Kyle, get out here! Now!”
* * *
“What is it?” Although
Kyle wasn’t happy about it, he’d left Lourdes in his bed and yanked on his jeans so he could let his neighbor in. Warren Rodman rented one of his houses just down the road—the one Kyle had yet to renovate—and he worked at the solar plant. But he was quite a bit older, nearly sixty-five, and recently divorced. He didn’t usually bother Kyle after hours, especially this late. It was nearly eleven. And he was such a mellow guy. It took a lot to get him so anxious.
“There’s a fire at the plant,” he said. “I could smell the smoke when I stepped out on the back porch to have a cigarette, so I drove over there, and...sure enough.”
Stunned, Kyle blinked at him. Maybe he was still a little dazed from what had been going on before Warren arrived, because it sounded as if he’d said there was a fire at the plant. His plant.
Before he could interpret those words and form an appropriate response, Lourdes came hurrying out, wearing a pair of his boxers and one of his T-shirts—what was at hand in his room and easier to put on than her dress. “Have you called 911?” she asked Warren.
“I have. The fire department’s on the way, but—” he turned back to Kyle “—I thought there might be a few things in there you’d like to try to save.”
The reality finally cut through the testosterone-induced fog that’d momentarily put him out of touch with the regular world. He could even smell the smoke, drifting toward him on a brisk wind. “Hell, yes, there’s stuff I want to save,” he said and ran to grab his keys from the kitchen counter.
Lourdes must’ve realized he was going to rush out dressed the way he was, despite the cold, the rough ground and everything else, because she stopped him and hurried back down the hall to get him some shoes.
“How bad is it?” Kyle asked Warren.
Warren rubbed his neck. “I have no idea, boss. I didn’t go very close. I saw an odd glow against the sky and knew immediately what it was. So I called 911. Then I came over here.”
When Lourdes returned a few seconds later, she carried a sweatshirt as well as his boots. “Nothing in the plant is worth your life,” she said, squeezing his arm. “Don’t get hurt.”
He wasn’t even sure he responded before he shoved his bare feet into his boots and dashed out, still trying to get that sweatshirt over his head. He’d put so much time and effort into his business, had finally built it into what he’d always imagined it could be. This didn’t seem possible. A fire could set him back months, years, if it destroyed the whole plant.
He floored the accelerator on his truck, but the three-or four-minute drive seemed to take hours. He wished it would start snowing again. The precipitation might help save the plant. But the wind was all that remained of the mild storm they’d had earlier—and wind was definitely not what he needed.
When he slammed on his brakes in the parking lot and jumped out, he saw more than the “odd glow” Warren had reported. Flames leaped from the window near Morgan’s desk. And the stench made him sick. He’d been trying not to panic, since fire could mean a lot of things. There were small fires that were easy to put out and didn’t do much damage.
And then there were blazes like this one...
“Son of a bitch!” he yelled and ran around to the back, where he felt the door to check for heat before opening it. Fortunately, the entire plant hadn’t been engulfed—not yet. His machinery and inventory were worth a few million dollars. The fire department might be able to save it—if they arrived soon. But the volunteer force was spread over several neighboring towns, not just Whiskey Creek. It could take some time for the bulk of the firefighters to get here.
Kyle grabbed the fire extinguisher inside the door and held it in front of him. But the smoke and the heat drove him back before he could reach the flames. The blaze had broken out in the offices. Kyle had no idea why or how, but he couldn’t focus on the reasons, anyway. He needed to get the computers. Morgan was supposed to back them up regularly, but he had no idea how diligent she’d been. Missing files, purchase orders and contracts would cripple him when it came to filling his most recent orders.
It was getting difficult to see and even harder to breathe. He ducked low, closer to the ground, hoping he might be able to reach the front. He was going to lose all his office furniture and equipment, and the paperwork that floated between his desk and Morgan’s. But if he could just salvage the computers, and the fire department put the fire out before the flames got to the back end, he could recover from this sooner rather than later.
The closer he got to his own office, however, the more certain he became that it was too late. That portion of the plant was already destroyed.
The deafening growl of the fire reminded him of a year ago, when he and his friends had purposely set one of his houses ablaze (one that needed to be torn down, anyway). That had been controlled and yet it had shown Kyle how quickly fire could consume a building.
If not for Warren raising the alarm tonight, he would’ve lost everything.
He could still lose everything...
A large crack reverberated over the roar of the flames. Then Kyle heard shattering glass—a window blowing out—and part of the roof fell in. A burning chunk of debris landed only a few feet away from him.
He had to give up, he realized. He couldn’t save the computers or anything else. As much as his business meant to him, it wasn’t worth his life.
He was making his way back when he heard someone call his name.
“Coming!” he yelled. Then he started coughing and couldn’t seem to stop. He’d breathed in too much smoke, searing his lungs.
He covered his mouth, but minutes later two firemen in full regalia came charging in, grabbed hold of him and half dragged him out into the night.
“I’m fine!” he insisted between coughs and gasps. “I was just trying to get a few things. Let me go so you can put out the damn fire!”
They released him only when he was clear of the building and told him to stay put. Then they hurried over to join several other men who were training fire hoses on the blaze.
“Shit.” How could this have happened? Maybe he shouldn’t be feeling so grateful to Warren. Maybe Warren had been lying to him about where he’d been smoking that cigarette. Could he have accidentally started the fire?
Kyle suspected that was the most likely explanation. He and Warren—and Lourdes, of course—were the only people on the property this late at night.
But then he caught a glimpse of something that made his skin prickle and had him surging to his feet. Was that who he thought it was?
There was a pole light near the building, so it wasn’t completely dark around the property, even this far from town. But with all the headlights from the various vehicles pulling in, the haze created by the smoke and the frenetic activity of the firemen running to and fro in front of him, he couldn’t be sure.
But a car that looked like Noelle’s Honda turned in at the drive, then backed up and quickly took off.
21
Lourdes had put on some jeans and a sweater. She knew the firefighters didn’t need another person getting in the way during an emergency like this, but she was so worried about Kyle—whether he was safe and how he was coping with this tragedy—that she borrowed his heavy coat and walked over to the plant. She’d never been there before, but it wasn’t difficult to find with all the vehicles barreling down the road toward it.
By the time she arrived, the place was swarming with activity. Although the sirens had been silenced, lights still swirled on the fire trucks as well as a few police cars. Men rushed around to get a better footing or a more advantageous position. And she could hear one firefighter yelling at several others through a loudspeaker. “Take it higher, Pete. Right there at the top. That’s it.”
She frowned as she surveyed the damage. The front of the building had lost its roof, part of one wall and both windows. With the jagged and charred edges
remaining, that section of the plant looked like the gaping maw of a monster, ready to take a bite out of any unwary passerby. The flames that danced behind the opening served as its devilish eyes. But at least there were plenty of firemen.
Knowing that Kyle had hurried over on his own before anyone else could get there made her anxious. This was a much bigger fire than she’d expected. But the first man she asked told her the building had been cleared of people and pointed her toward a solitary figure who stood off to one side, hands jammed in his pockets as he watched the water from the firefighters’ hoses damage what the fire itself hadn’t already burned beyond recognition.
“Are you okay?” she asked when she reached him.
He combed his fingers through his hair but continued to stare at his burning plant. “Yeah.”
She wasn’t convinced. “The good thing is no one was hurt,” she said, trying to make him feel better. “That’s what’s most important. If this had broken out during the day when all your employees were inside, who knows—”
“Broken out?” He bit off each word as if he could barely speak for the stiffness of his jaw. “It didn’t start on its own.”
“It could have. I’ve heard of—”
“No. That isn’t what happened.”
Lourdes felt her jaw drop. “You’re saying someone set this on purpose? That it was...arson?”
His eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t be surprised. The timing’s suspicious, what with the threats Noelle’s been making. And I’m pretty sure I saw her here earlier.”
Lourdes looked more carefully at all the people who’d gathered. Some were probably friends or family of the firefighters. Others had very likely followed the trucks. Certain people did that sort of thing. But the firefighters definitely had an audience—much to the displeasure of the three police officers who were trying to keep them from getting too close to the burning plant.
“Surely Noelle wouldn’t go this far,” she said. “You told me yourself that she’d be unlikely to do anything seriously harmful. And destroying your plant—that’s serious.”