Burning for You

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Burning for You Page 18

by Dunaway, Michele


  He moved away. Joe looked at Taylor. Then he trailed his gaze and saw the photographs on the far wall.

  Freeing himself, boots that left a trail of grit walked over to where Taylor’s work hung. The crowd parted like the Red Sea so the firefighter could see his photos.

  She followed him. Drew abreast. “Do you want to explain this?” he bit out.

  “I didn’t know my professor was going to submit them or hang them up. I found out Wednesday afternoon.”

  “So I’m your project. Did you ever plan on telling me?” The words were quiet, deadly, and meant for her ears only.

  “Yes. Tomorrow.”

  He said nothing for the longest minute of her life. Then, the gallery director tapped his champagne flute and everyone grew quiet. “Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of tonight’s juried prize and the cash prize of a thousand dollars goes to Taylor Krebs for her work ‘Firefighter Exposé.’”

  Around Taylor applause erupted. But Joe stood there, saying nothing. She wanted to drop down through the floor.

  “Parker’s covering. He needs to get home. I have to get back. Glad I could help you win some money.”

  “Joe,” she protested in vain, for he strode out without another word, the turnout pants making a swishing noise, grit falling in his wake.

  “Taylor, come on up,” the director called, all smiles. She walked on autopilot, took the check that weeks ago would have meant so much. Now victory seemed hollow. She smiled for the requisite photos. Accepted endless congratulations.

  Inside her heart was breaking.

  “It’ll be fine.” Her mother patted her on the arm after Taylor finished her winner’s duties.

  Inside Taylor’s stomach felt like lead. “You don’t understand. He’s a proud man. He never wanted me to expose him publically like this. I figured what he wouldn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, and I’d tell him after the fact. I screwed this all up. I made a huge mistake. I’ve ruined everything.”

  “He’ll get over it,” her mother said with complete confidence.

  Taylor whirled on her. “How do you know?”

  “Because he loves you. Why else would he be here, ready to defend you?”

  Taylor blinked. Joe had called Parker. Left the firehouse in the midst of his shift. For her. Who knew what that had cost him?

  “I have to go after him.”

  “Taylor, there you are,” her professor called. “I want you to meet someone,”

  “You have to finish here. There’s nothing you can do until you see him again.”

  “He’s not going to want to see me again.” That Taylor knew for certain. “I have to do something.” She reached into her wristlet, withdrew her phone, and stepped into a corner. She dialed a number.

  Susie picked up on the first ring. “Hey. What’s up?”

  “I really screwed up.” Taylor quickly filled her in.

  But instead of being upset, Susie laughed. “I wish I could have seen his face. About time he gets over his fear of people knowing the real Joe.”

  “This is serious,” Taylor hissed, wishing she could shout her frustration. Susie wasn’t helping.

  Susie got herself under control. “Oh Taylor, it is serious. We’ve all been waiting for Joe to meet his match, and he finally has in you. You called me for advice, didn’t you? Not just to confess?”

  Taylor moved deeper into the alcove. Returned to the bench. “I love him,” she admitted. “So yes. Anything. I don’t want to lose him.”

  “Thought so,” Susie seemed pleased. “Now here’s exactly what you’re going to do.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The rest of Joe’s shift had been relatively quiet, or at least nothing major, which was good because he’d been on a tear the rest of the night.

  He’d been an idiot. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted her. He’d never felt so betrayed—this was why he’d always kept women at a distance. Yet he’d let Taylor in, and she’d used him. All those eyes on his photographs. On him—all of them staring at what he chose to keep hidden from the world.

  So intent on those thoughts, he almost missed seeing her car parked in the spot next to his. A quick glance told him she wasn’t in it. He entered his building, where he found her sitting with her knees up to her chest on the stairs outside his apartment. “How long have you been there?”

  “About ten minutes. Susie told me when you’d be home.”

  Damn his sister. He looked at Taylor and waited for the rage to come. But it didn’t, he wanted to pull her close and kiss her breathless. Instead he schooled his expression and said, “I’m leaving again, you should go.”

  She stood and blocked his path. “I know I am the last person you want to see, and I swore I would never act like Owen, who literally stalked me. But you and I made a promise to be honest with each other, so that’s what I am going to do.”

  “Honesty would have been telling me my photographs were hanging in a public art gallery. You won money by exposing me.”

  “Yes, I did, and I’m sorry. I thought only my professor was going to see the pictures. Then when I got to my meeting, he told me they were already entered in the show and at that point there was nothing I could do. You were out of town. I figured I’d tell you later. My mistake. My misstep and one I’ll live with for the rest of my days. But I’m proud of my work. I’m proud of you.”

  He stared at her, his expression unreadable. “We have nothing more to say to each other.”

  She stomped her foot, a childish gesture that she regretted immediately. But how to get through to him? “Before last night, you were falling in love with me.”

  “What does it matter if I was, I don’t feel anything anymore.” Joe lied. He knew it. So did she.

  “Like hell. Stop being so damn stubborn. You’re just like me. A stubborn fool. Well, guess what, I love you. And I didn’t hang you on a wall because I’m using you. We can take the money and donate it for all I care.” She winced, but jutted her chin forward. “Seriously. I’m proud of who you are, and of the man you’ve become. Damn, I don’t believe I’m even going to say this, but if Owen could figure out that he was bipolar and he needed to help himself, then maybe the great Joe Marino could, just once, figure out how to love himself. I love you, and it would be a shame for you to throw us away because you’re still feeling guilty for a mistake you made when you were twelve.”

  Her chest heaved. She took a disk from the purse on her shoulder and thrust it at him. “See yourself as I see you. See that you deserve to be loved, and stop being a stupid martyr. We’re all tired of it.” She gasped for breath.

  His fingers dangled the disk. Pride and stubbornness. His worst flaws. His voice almost didn’t work, and when it did, he simply said, “You through?”

  “Yes.” He’d hurt her, and it didn’t make him feel better. Actually, he felt lower than low. Head high, she began to walk past him. “I will see you tomorrow. Let’s just get through this last shoot, and you and I can go our separate ways if that’s what you want.” With that parting shot, she strode off.

  Joe stood there, the disk dangling in his fingers. He resisted the urge to crush the case. Her words replayed in his head as the earlier anger he felt returned.

  He didn’t have a martyr complex.

  The door across the hall creaked open, and his sister Elaina poked her head out.

  “Did you hear all that?” he asked.

  “Hard not to,” she replied, the door creaking open further. “You sure she’s not Italian? She sure put you in your place.”

  “You agree with her?”

  Elaina shrugged. “You are pretty damn stubborn. It gets annoying sometimes. We’re all adults now. No need be the big brother all the time. … And she loves you.” Elaina shook her head. “Never believed that would happen, and you’d be foolish to throw that away because clearly you love her if you went to save her last night.”

  “And everyone already knows about that?”

  She nodded. “News in this family travels fas
t. I’m sure Nana knows by now too.”

  And Nana would want to smack him for his bad behavior. Joe threw his hands up. “So you think I should go after her?”

  Elaina moved her long braid to the opposite shoulder. “I’m not a love guru. She said she’d see you tomorrow.”

  “We were supposed to spend today together. The family photos are tomorrow.”

  “So maybe that’s what you meant. Well, you’ll see her then.”

  The main door opened downstairs. Joe’s heart jumped. Maybe she’d returned. But as a familiar figure appeared on the landing, Joe realized he’d been mistaken.

  “Lieutenant,” Reid said, edging a bit toward the wall. “Long time no see. Thought you’d be at the gym by now.”

  Joe gazed at his sister, who arched her eyebrows in silent challenge as she ushered Reid inside and out of sight. “We’re spending the day at the Botanical Garden. You are officially on your own. And if you do anything to Reid, you deal with me. I like him. A lot. And he feels the same. Please do not screw anything else up.”

  With that, she shut her apartment door in Joe’s face.

  Joe stood on the landing, his entire world completely upside down. His sister was dating Reid. How long had that been going on? How long had they kept it from him?

  But even that revelation didn’t undo the bombshells Taylor had leveled on him. She’d shredded him to the core. Hurt his ego. Compared him to Owen.

  That had been a low blow.

  He inserted his key, dealt with Brutus who wanted his daily kibble. She’d also said she loved him. Thrown her declaration at his face. He probably deserved that.

  He sat at his kitchen table, let the events of the past twenty-four hours wash over him.

  She loved him. Really loved him. He took the disk, loaded it into his laptop, and found the images she’d taken of him. He saw the entire applied photography project, not just the five that had hung on the wall.

  She’d captured him, peeling back layers to peer into his soul. She really saw him, he realized. She loved him, burns and guilt be damned.

  And as he realized she’d been right all along, and that he’d been a worthless jerk, Joe let the floodgates open.

  For the first time since he’d seen the burns all over his sister’s arms and legs, felt the pain of his own seared skin as he carried her through the flames, he cried.

  He cried until he’d worn himself out, until Brutus was in his face howling with worry, until he’d purged himself of the remorse that he’d carried long after everyone else had shed their own.

  He loved Taylor. She was different, and he was worthy of her love.

  He stood, patted Brutus to let him know it was okay, then did what he did best. He was a man who never shied away from a challenge.

  So he got to work.

  * * *

  The immediate Marino clan, including Nana, numbered eighteen. Add in Marvin’s brother and a bunch of cousins, and Taylor jostled give or take forty people for the family photo.

  To make sure everyone would be visible, she and Judy had chosen the ball field bleachers at a local park. With the open ground behind them, the risers would work perfectly.

  Taylor set up her tripod, adjusted the lens, and began to direct people.

  A small crowd of onlookers had set up some lawn chairs—she wasn’t quite sure who they were, although one guy looked somewhat familiar. He kept talking to Elaina, but Taylor couldn’t place him.

  She checked the light. Checked the battery. Group photos were hard. Something always happened to make the photo useless. As the shutter snapped, someone would always have his eyes closed. Or someone would have a goofy smile. Another would be looking anywhere but at the camera. And people always kept touching their hair, even after she’d told them to put their hands in their lap if seated, or at their sides if standing.

  Currently, the holdup was that Joe and Susie were missing. Parker had arrived with Winnie, who was having a hard time staying out of the dirt. She’d already grabbed two handfuls from the dugout and thrown it into the air. Parker was currently trying to dust off her dress.

  The crowd on the bleachers grew slightly restless. At least they’d all followed her instructions to wear a similar color. The group all wore various shades of blue, making them color-coordinated.

  “Ah, here comes Joe,” his mother called.

  Taylor’s heart leapt into her throat as he approached wearing a long-sleeve blue shirt and darker blue dress pants. His sunglasses hid his beautiful eyes, and she noticed he’d cut his hair. She’d thought the slightly longer locks looked sexy, but the shorter length only heightened his appeal.

  A cheer came from the mostly male onlookers, who raised various soda cans in salute. “About time. Let’s get on with this show.”

  “Look at that sexy hair cut!”

  “Who knew you’d clean up so well?”

  Who were those people? Taylor tore her gaze away as Joe and Susie stepped onto the bleachers and into their assigned positions. Given Nana’s age, Judy had wanted the family to sit for the photos.

  Taylor gave everyone final directions, stood on the wooden stepladder she’d brought so the camera could be high up, and placed her eye to the viewfinder. Everyone was in the shot. “Okay, everyone. Big smiles. One … two … three—”

  “Stop!”

  She jerked her head up. On the end, Joe was standing and climbing down the bleachers. “This isn’t going to work. Let me see.”

  He approached the camera. Tall enough, he simply looked through the viewfinder without using the stepladder. “Nope. If we shoot this now we’ll have to redo it later. I even cut my hair for this. Like it?”

  Oh she did, but she bristled. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She’d fretted the entire day after she’d left him. Not one word. Not one text. Even Susie hadn’t answered her calls. Marci, out with Thad, had also been unavailable.

  The sun was getting higher in the sky, the July day starting to get hot. “We need to get this done. Everyone’s face is visible. They are all perfect.”

  “No, it’s still wrong.”

  “Look again. You’re the one who’s wrong,” she insisted. “I’m the photographer, remember?”

  “How could I forget? You are a damn good one, as I could see for myself when I looked at the CD. But we’re missing someone.”

  There were around forty people on the bleachers, the rest on the sidelines, all avidly watching the conversation. Taylor’s nerves frayed. “Fine. Who are we waiting for?”

  “You.”

  He’d taken off his sunglasses and smiled at her. “Can’t have a photo if we’re only going to have to retake it.”

  “I’m not a part of your family. Why would you need to retake it?”

  He sighed. Reached into his pocket for something small and shiny. “Because if you love me, really, really love me like you insisted yesterday, you’re going to marry me and be part of this family because I love you too. And I can’t live without you.”

  She stared as he held the ring out. A diamond glittered. “It was Nana’s engagement ring. Goes to the oldest grandson. That’s me.” He gestured to the crowd. “Ignore them. They’re just jealous.”

  She didn’t even glance at the bleachers, her entire focus on Joe. His gaze held hers. “I know I can be an ass, but as Elaina pointed out yesterday, you know how to handle me. I want to grow old with you. What do you say?”

  He dropped onto one knee, which immediately got a little dusty. “With my whole family as witnesses, I love you. You going to marry me?”

  He held up the ring, which glittered in the morning sun. She placed her hand on her mouth and burst into tears.

  “You’re supposed to say yes,” someone called.

  “Put on my lucky ring and marry my boy,” Nana called.

  “Yes!” Taylor shouted, finding her voice. “Yes.”

  Everyone clapped, including the onlookers, whoever they were. (She’d later find out they were Joe’s crew who had to come witness th
e proposal.) Joe stood up, twirled her around, and put the most gorgeous antique ring on her finger.

  Marci and her mother appeared from somewhere, and there were hugs all around until Judy called from the bleachers. “Can we take this photo now? I want a hug too and we’ve been forbidden to move until it’s done.”

  “And I’m hot,” Nana called. “Get on over here, Taylor.”

  “Yes,” Taylor called back, laughing. “Let’s do this thing.”

  So Taylor looked through the viewfinder, and told Marci to get on the stepladder.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing,” Marci protested.

  “You count to three and press the button. I’ve set it up. Anyone can do it. Take at least three, and then I’ll come check.”

  “Okay, I’ll try. No guarantees.” Marci gazed through the viewfinder as Joe held Taylor’s hand and led her to their spot on the bleachers. Susie sat to Taylor’s left.

  “Welcome to the family,” she said, giving Taylor’s hand a squeeze.

  Marci leaned back, looked at everyone. “Okay. Smile. Hands down in your laps. Hey, that means you.” She stared them down. “Perfect. Hold that.”

  Joe grabbed Taylor’s hand. Held it out of sight.

  “Ready?” Marci called. “Say cheese on one, two, three.”

  “Cheese!” everyone shouted, and as the shutter opened and closed. Taylor added her wide, happy smile next to the grin of the man she loved, and the camera froze their love for all eternity—as they were looking into each other’s eyes.

  Don’t miss the next Man of the Month book from Michele Dunaway!

  Coming August 2015 from St. Martin’s Press

  Man of the Month Series

  By Michele Dunaway

  www.MicheleDunaway.com

  Describing herself as a woman who does way too much and never wants to stop, Michele Dunaway is a bestselling author and award-winning high school teacher. In addition to teaching English III, Michele advises the student newspaper and yearbook. She is a JEA Distinguished Yearbook Adviser, a Dow Jones News Fund Special Recognition Adviser, and a Missouri High School Journalism Teacher of the Year. Proud mother of two daughters, Michele is an avid pet lover who shares her home with far too many rescued cats, who of course completely rule the roost.

 

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