Cinders
Page 12
Gina leaned over him, tried to wake him, all the while coughing against the smoke. He stirred but didn’t open his eyes and panic rushed through her again.
The door. Get out the door. God, please don’t let Maureen have locked us in.
She reached blindly for one of the counter drawers above her and grasped a fresh tea towel, held it over her face, and scanned the room for the back door. Flames crawled up the wood, eating away at the paint and blocking her exit. Internally she cursed and turned back to Brennen, tried once more to shake him awake. Smoke stung her eyes and she closed them, breathed through the tea towel over her face, and tried to think.
Front door? Though if Maureen had focused the fire around the back one, surely she’d done the same with the front.
Then she remembered the phone.
She worked her way across the kitchen, avoiding the fire snaking toward her, then pulled herself to her knees and blindly reached for the receiver mounted to the wall.
It was gone.
Defeat weighed heavily on her shoulders. God, it was all her fault, and now Brennen—
Over the crackle of fire, a voice sounded—someone shouting. Gina squinted and looked around but couldn’t see anyone. Still, maybe there were neighbors—maybe someone was around to hear. She took a deep breath, pulled the towel from her face, and screamed, “Help! We’re in here—”
A coughing fit overtook her and she bowed her head, tried to keep from the smoke. Perhaps she was merely hearing things, her concussed head making up a savior to comfort her while she and her lover were about to perish.
Wood splintered then, a loud thunderous sound like an explosion coming from the direction of the main room. Gina cringed and looked around, bracing for some other horrible thing to happen to them, but instead a figure moved through the smoke toward. Strong hands grasped her upper arms, lifted her, and carried her through the smoke and fire. She shut her eyes and curled in on herself, choking until her lungs ached.
And then cool air hit the bare skin of her exposed arms and face. Gina blinked and looked up at the star-pricked sky above. The arms holding her set her down on the cement curb, the face of the man solidifying into one she recognized.
“Mike—” She fell into another fit of coughs. “Brennen’s—”
“In there, I know, hold on!” He ran back into the store and she realized he didn’t use the door—the entire front of the shop was caved in, flames licking around the jagged edges of wood and stone. A car idled a few feet away, the hood dusty with debris and glass. He must’ve driven through the front to get to them.
She waited in tense silence, unable to look away, praying soon she’d see the two men emerge. A minute stretched on like hours but eventually she got her wish, Brennen walking with his arm slung over Mike’s shoulder. The two of them stepped over the flaming debris and made it to her side where they collapsed.
Brennen’s dark, squinting eyes caught sight of her and then his arms drew her to him, wrapping her in his comforting embrace. “Thank God. Thank God, I thought she’d already...” He coughed and choked, lungs wheezing.
“I’ve already called 911,” Mike said between panting breaths.
Gina looked past Brennen’s shoulder. “How did you know?”
Mike eyed Brennen. “Waited twenty minutes from when he said he was going to the bakery to look for you and he didn’t reply when I called.”
“I owe you.” Brennen coughed again. “So, so owe you.”
“I’ll cash in eventually.”
As sirens wailed in the distance, Gina looked past both men toward her burning shop. The one that had once been called Bella’s. The one that had once been her mother and father’s, that should have been hers. Now the sign for Sweet Haven burned, everything she’d endured hell for gone up in smoke and flames.
But tucked in Brennen’s arms she knew without a doubt she was home at last.
Happily Ever After
On a bright, sunny day in Midsummer, the gleaming glass of the door to her new bakery beckoned.
Gina stood there for a moment, still hardly able to believe it. Built on the foundation of the old one, after the debris had been cleared and last cinders burned out, the new shop was not the old one of her memories or the one of her stepmother’s but something new entirely. It was hers. Despite months of paperwork and confusion, while Maureen’s lies and fraud were all untangled despite her unwillingness to cooperate from jail, the moment had finally arrived for her to claim what was hers.
She stepped gingerly forward, her keys clutched tightly in hand. Though her fractured leg had healed and cast had been off for weeks, she still moved stiffly. But bones mended, scars faded, and what was left behind remained stronger than ever.
The unlocked door opened silently on well-oiled, new hinges. The interior was similar to what had been before, though the drywall was painted beige and the laminate floor flat and smooth without the warping the wood once had. New shelves and glass display cases waited. The grand re-opening was in a week, giving her time to decorate and bake new stock, but this was her first opportunity to see the finished building.
She left the door open so fresh air could trail in and made her way to the front window, digging through her purse as she went. She paused to set out a mason jar and a dozen fresh cinnamon sticks, and set them on the sill right where the sun would hit. For now, the scent of fresh paint clung to the air but soon that would fade and once again the shop would smell like it was meant to.
A fist rapped on the door and Gina glanced over her shoulder, smiling at Brennen as he entered.
“I thought you were following right behind me?”
“I was,” he said as he entered. “But I wanted you to have a few minutes to yourself.”
“I still can’t believe it’s real.” She glanced around again. It would take some adjusting to, but she was glad to have this new venture. “I’m nervous. Like someone’s going to take it away at any second or I’m going to wake up in the attic and find it’s all been a dream.”
“Get used to it, sweetheart—everything’s going up from here and you deserve every second of it.” He swung his hand up to display a small cardboard box the size of her palm, white with “Gina’s” on it in teal and a small fluffy cupcake logo.
Gina grinned—she hadn’t realized he’d already ordered the boxes for her. When she accepted it, she found it weighted, and met his eyes in question.
“I made you a celebratory cupcake,” he said with a wicked grin. “I’m sure it’s not as good as yours but—”
“It’s always better when someone else makes it,” she reminded him. Gina lifted the lid and then her heart thudded at the sight of what waited within.
There was a cupcake, simple chocolate with vanilla icing and a dusting of shaved chocolate, but what drew her gaze was the white gold band and princess-cut diamond standing on top. She stared, mouth agape, words lost to her.
“It seemed a little more fitting than a traditional ring box,” Brennen said, at last drawing her attention up to his eyes. He stared down at her, serious and loving, and his finger gently traced her cheek. “Gina Cassidy, after we clean the icing off your engagement ring, will you consent to marry me?”
She plucked the ring from the cupcake and pressed the edge to her lips.
Brennen winced. “Maybe answer before you taste my terrible icing?”
Gina chuckled and he set down the box on the windowsill so he could slip the ring onto her finger. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“And give me baking lessons?”
She settled into his arms, her heart leaping with joy. “And give you baking lessons.”
In the sleepy hamlet of Midsummer, the people seem friendly and peaceful. But when dusk falls, the town's dark underbelly is exposed. Danger lurks around every shadowed street corner, where neighbors are not who they seem and true love's happily ever after is never guaranteed.
Welcome to Midsummer Tales, Asha King's new fairytale-inspired romantic suspense novella serie
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Coming Soon...
Bryar Rosings’ Story:
A young woman rebelling against her isolated existence in the country, never knowing the danger coming for her...
A troubled former pop star falling for the one girl who doesn’t know who he really is...
Her dark past will spell their end unless he can save them both.
Beauty
A Midsummer Suspense Tale
About the Author
Asha King likes good-looking men and hot books, and often strives to combine the two in contemporary, paranormal, and suspenseful romantic stories. She lives in the exotic land of Alberta, Canada, where she doesn’t ride a polar bear to work but does drink vast amounts of locally brewed beer and watches hockey.
She loves connecting with readers and you can keep up to date with her online at www.AshaKing.com, where you’ll find a list of her books as well as what she’s working on and potential release dates.
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Email: author.ashaking@gmail.com
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