by Sara Arden
“Big table under the tent out back.” Royce said, helpfully.
Hayden sighed and took the platter from her. “I’ve got it.”
“Good. Then she can carry the strawberry shortcake pie.”
Sophie peered down at the concoction. She’d never heard of strawberry shortcake pie, but it sounded delicious.
She followed the brothers out to the tent where half the firehouse had gathered to celebrate family, brotherhood, and the long days of summer.
Noah Finnegan was laughing and flirting with everything female, but it wasn’t the least bit slimy. It was rather charming. Or so Ainsley Becker seemed to think, until he reached over to steal a homemade kettle chip off of her plate and Ainsley smacked his hand.
Where Ainsley went, Ethan Acosta was sure to follow. Sophie looked around for the handsome carpenter and saw him creeping closer to the smoker, eyeing it with great interest.
There were a lot of handsome men in Ember Lake. Half of them seemed to be at this barbeque. So why was she stuck on the one she couldn’t and shouldn’t have?
Her gaze was drawn back to Hayden.
He was talking with a few guys from the Lucky Seven firehouse. He seemed to notice her scrutiny and looked up. He motioned for her to come over, but she shook her head. The sun was still too high for her to stand outside and chat. She was under the tent now and that was where she’d stay, unless it was to go back inside.
Sometimes the heat made her a little uncomfortable as well. Her doctors had assured her that limited exposure with sunblock was fine, and that the sensations she felt were mostly in her head.
But that didn’t actually matter to her—if it was real or not. It was discomfort, pain, and fear. She wouldn’t subject herself to those things if she didn’t have to.
And she didn’t have to.
As a therapist, she knew she should work through her issues, but as someone who was comfortable with the small world she’d made for herself, she was just fine not rattling the foundations.
When she declined to go to Hayden, he instead, came to her. Bringing the guys with him.
She realized that this was what it would be like to be his. To be part of his world. To be part of him.
It was just like something out of a movie.
Or even a dream.
She didn’t belong here.
As the guys from the firehouse entered the tent, she found she had trouble meeting their gazes. Any one of them could’ve lost their lives that night at her house. That night when Hayden saved her life.
That night when she’d started a fire.
This was no dream, it was a nightmare. She was forced to stand and smile at them, face them like she wasn’t guilty.
It made her want to blurt out her guilt and beg for their forgiveness. But she knew there could be no forgiveness for what she’d done.
“You’re looking lovely,” Noah Finnegan said to her. “Much prettier than this morning.” He winked at her.
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” She forced a smile that she hoped didn’t look too contrived.
“Definitely. Because this morning, that ugly mug,” he titled his head toward Hayden “was blocking my view.”
“Good save.” She nodded.
“I thought so.” Noah shrugged. “So what can we get you?” He picked up a plate and started piling food onto it like he was saving up for winter.
Hayden grabbed it out of his hand. “I think Sophie can choose what she wants herself.”
“I’m sure she can,” Noah said, and snatched the plate back. “That was for me.”
Royce dropped a piece of fried chicken on another plate and handed it to her. Along with a giant cob of corn. “Start with this.”
“Um, Royce? Fried chicken isn’t an appetizer.” Sophie found her grin was real.
“It is in this house,” he nodded, a serious expression on his face. “Especially when it’s Grandma Rose’s fried chicken.”
“Well then, I guess I better have some.”
“Virgin Lemonade is on the left, that stuff on the right, I think there’s moonshine, vodka, or gasoline in it. I’m not sure.” Hayden steered her away from them and toward the lemonade filled glass dispenser.
“This is serious business, I see.”
“Very serious.” Hayden acknowledged.
His hand was hot on her arm where their skin touched—it was hotter than any touch of the sun. She wanted to jerk away from him to make it stop, but she wanted it to go on forever too. It was a strange contrast of need, desire, and sorrow. Everything was twisted and poisoned by what she’d done.
“I think I should go,” she blurted.
“Why, what’s wrong?” Hayden searched her face.
“Too many people. It’s too bright out. Too hot.” Too much of everything I’m not supposed to want.
“Let me take you inside.” He tugged her arm gently.
“I don’t want to take you away from the festivities. I’ll just grab a cab home.”
“Did someone do something, or say something to you, Sophie?”
For a moment, she allowed herself to bask in his attention. In feeling special, like some princess in a tower and once again, he was her knight in shining armor. It felt so good. But she exhaled, and with that pushed out all those false hopes and wants.
“No.” She bit her lip. “This is just more than I’m ready for. Too much stimulation.”
His hand was still on her arm.
She found herself leaning closer to him, and against her better judgment, she hid her face in his chest. There, in front of everyone.
Sophie started to pull away, but instead, his arms closed around her.
“It’s okay. Why don’t you just come inside for a little bit? If you still want to go home after a glass of water and a few minutes to yourself, I’ll take you.”
“Why do you care that I’m here?” She looked up at him. “I know this morning you didn’t want me to come.”
He looked like she’d punched him. “No, Sophie. It wasn’t you.”
Hayden led her back into the cool interior of the house.
“Then what was it?” She lifted her chin. She knew she should probably let sleeping dogs lie, but maybe if she heard it from his own lips, she’d finally get it through her head and they could be done with this nonsense.
The pained look was still on his face.
She steeled herself. “Look, I’m a big girl. I can take it.”
He looked up at the ceiling, his jaw clenching and unclenching. “I’m not who you think I am,” Hayden said, finally.
“Neither am I,” Sophie answered easily.
“I’ve done you a great disservice.”
She couldn’t imagine what he’d done that could in any way ever be considered any kind of disservice. “I can’t fathom how. You’ve been the only constant in my life, the only sure thing since that night.”
“I’m not any kind of hero, Sophie.”
“To me, you are. To all the people you’ve helped, you are.” She couldn’t help it, she reached out to touch him, to communicate compassion for whatever pain he felt and if she was honest, there was a part of her that hoped against hope she could leech it from him. She could bear it for him because it wasn’t his to shoulder.
But the intensity in his eyes matched what she felt inside.
That ever burning ember that was always for Hayden ignited.
There was a polarity between them now—a gravity. They were drawn together slowly, but inevitably.
Trepidation and need curled around each other like twin serpents and the world seemed to stop spinning, time stopped.
Because Hayden Cole bent his head and his lips crashed into hers. It wasn’t quite a kiss, it was too elemental to be a simple mashing of mouths. It was like… she had no words to describe it. It was everything.
It was nothing.
It was all things.
Just as soon as it had begun, it was over. The world around her hadn’t changed, but some
thing inside of her had.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Hayden,” she didn’t know what to say. There was too much she wanted to tell him, too much she couldn’t.
“There you are,” Allison Cole said, a concerned look on her face. “Hayden, why is she so flushed?” Her attention was back on Sophie. “I think you should lie down. Sorry my silly boys had you out in this heat. They should know better. Let’s get you up to Hayden’s old room and you can lie down.”
“I’m fine, really.” But Sophie realized quickly that after dealing with a whole firehouse of men, there was no way she was going to sway Hayden’s mother after she’d made up her mind.
The room was dark and cool, and somehow, still smelled of him. His cologne and his aftershave.
She was still stunned from the kiss, her lips tingled, bee-stung and tender.
“Hayden, you stay with her and I’ll bring up her lemonade.”
They were alone in the dark with this new knowledge between them.
But they’d never been farther apart.
4
Her lips were the sweetest fruit and now that he’d tasted them, he didn’t know if he could make himself forget.
“I—”
She put her hand on his. “Don’t say you shouldn’t have done that.”
“It was a mistake, Sophie.”
“Maybe, but it was a mistake I’d like to make again.”
He hadn’t realized how hungry he’d been for those words. To feel wanted. Desired. To be more than the cardboard cutout of the person he’d allowed himself. Except all of those things were just as forbidden as her lips. They had to be.
“I can’t.”
“Because you’re not attracted to me? Because I’m the burned girl that’s the albatross around your neck?”
Her words cut him in an unexpected way. He hadn’t thought about how she’d feel about what he’d made of her in his head. In truth, Hayden hadn’t thought that she’d ever know, but she did.
“You’re not an albatross, Sophie.”
“No? I’m either the thing that’s weighing you down, or you’ve made me into some kind of china doll. Breakable. Fragile. Most importantly, not real.”
She was right. He didn’t know what to say.
“I shouldn’t have come.” Sophie stood.
“No, I’m glad you did. These things needed to be said.” He touched her arm. “Sit back down, or my mother will skin me alive.”
She laughed. “She would not. I’ll just tell her that I’m not feeling well and you’re going to take me home, okay?”
“I am glad you came.”
“Why?”
The defeated tone in her voice made him feel like the biggest jerk. He remembered what Royce had said. “Because you should be out in the world. Living in it.”
She sighed and pulled away, he knew he was losing ground.
“And I wanted to see you. I didn’t want last night to be over,” he blurted.
“I don’t understand.”
“What happened to you—”
“Can’t we just forget about what happened to me?”
“Is that something you can do? And if you can, what would you tell a client of yours if they said the same thing?”
“I’d tell them that if that’s how they wanted to approach the world, that it was okay, it’s their trauma to carry. I’ve been through the therapy, physical and mental. You saved my life, but if all you see is your own failure when you look at me, we can’t even be friends.”
The idea of not seeing her, not talking to her wasn’t something he wanted to consider. While it was true, he dreaded his yearly pilgrimage, he needed it, too.
“I need you, Sophie. But…”
“You don’t want me?”
“I don’t want to want you. I don’t think what you feel for me is anything but hero worship.”
“So let me get to know you. I mean,” she looked down at her hands as she sank back down on the bed “if it matters.”
“I don’t have relationships.” He said that even as he thought about how soft she was, how good it felt to hold her. The way she smelled, fresh and clean.
“Cut it out with that nonsense. Yes, you do. You have relationships with your brother, your friends, your family.”
“That’s different. They’ve all signed on to make the same sacrifices.” To be honest, he never thought about his family when they were called to a fire. When it was all said and done, he looked for Royce and Royce looked for him, but that was it. They all knew the risks involved.
“So would anyone who chooses to be with you.” She lifted her eyes. “I think you’re afraid.”
He’d never considered it that way. Maybe because his mother had been a firefighter, too. She was already part of it when she married his dad. “Of course I’m afraid. I’m afraid my selfishness is going to cost someone their life. I’m afraid that I’ll put the person I’m with above those lives that count on me to save them because I wouldn’t want to leave anyone the way Ben left Livie.”
He hadn’t meant to be so open, so honest. He hadn’t meant to spill his guts there all over the floor. He was supposed to be impermeable, a mountain of strength and surety. But here he was, in dark room telling all his secrets to the last person who needed to hear them.
“I know that you think I don’t, but I do know who you are, Hayden Cole.”
“Oh really? What’s my favorite color?” He hoped to lighten the tone and steer the conversation away from the things that scarred.
“Blue, but not baby blue, and not navy. Royal blue. Your favorite food is pizza, pineapple and pepperoni, with extra cheese on deep dish crust that you can only get at Luigi’s. Shall I go on?”
“By all means.” So she paid attention to his pizza order. That didn’t mean she knew him.
“Fine, I’ll dig a little deeper. You are a hero, and you hate that you’re a hero because you wanted it so bad and you didn’t realize the price.”
Damn. She went right for the throat. It was startling to hear that his deepest, darkest secrets weren’t so deep or dark after all. That she could see them all any time she chose. Somehow, he’d thought no one could see that part of him.
“Am I that transparent?”
“Only because you’re a good man. You save kittens from trees and help old ladies cross the street.” She held up a finger to stop him. “Even when no one is looking.”
“Tell me something bad about myself,” he challenged.
“Why?”
“If you really know me, you see my flaws, too.” Not that he necessarily needed another kick to the gut, but he was so close. So close to someone seeing him for more than the job. He wanted it to be real, but he had to keep pushing. He had to know that if he let himself have this that it was the real deal.
“What makes you a hero is also what makes you flawed. Your desire to help. You’ll put your life on the line without a second thought. You have a deep need to save everyone, and that’s just not possible. You’ll break yourself trying. Also, you snore.” She smirked.
The thing that had been trying to spark between them flickered. Maybe she really did know more about him than he thought. Maybe she saw him for who he was and still wanted more of him. He was so used to women being more interested in the hero’s mantle than the man underneath that now here was a woman who was interested and he had no idea how to process it.
“I almost want to ask you the same questions, but I’m afraid you won’t be able to answer them. That I’m really just a touchstone to remind you to jump when common sense tells you not to.”
She was right, and seeing it laid on the line like that didn’t paint a pretty picture. “I can’t. Not like that, but I’m torn between wanting to and—”
“Let’s start over,” she interrupted.
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s pretend that we don’t know each other. That I’m not the girl you pulled from a burning building. That girl moved away. She owns an
art gallery in Poughkeepsie.” She waved her hands, as if to dismiss that girl in Poughkeepsie.
“To what end?” He knew should just say no, that this wasn’t just ill-advised, but a bad idea with a capital “bad.”
“So we can really be friends.”
“That kiss was more than friendly, Sophie.” God help him, he wanted to do it again. Especially now, in this quiet place that seemed to have become a place out of time. A little bit of a dream world tucked away, untouched by the outside. Here, he could say anything. He could have anything.
“Well, we’d have to start as friends, don’t you think?” She cocked her head to the side. “Attraction is easy. It’s the rest of it that’s hard.”
Hard, yeah, he was definitely— “What you’re asking for, it’s not fair to you.”
“Why don’t you let me decide what I can live with and what I can’t? This is where the saving everyone part fails you. There are some things you can’t save people from. They have to be allowed to make their own choices. I’ll make my choices and you make yours and we’ll see where things end up. Maybe you’ll break my heart. Maybe I’ll break yours. Maybe this will crash and burn and maybe, it’ll be something amazing.” Her whole face came alight as she said this, her blue eyes wide and utterly guileless. No pretense, no games. She wanted something and she reached for it, seemingly unafraid of being told no.
“You’re fearless.” There were so many things he’d wanted to say to her, but they’d gotten jumbled up on his tongue.
“I wouldn’t go that far. I wouldn’t be able to say these things if we weren’t in the shadows. The next time I see you, I may not be able to look at your face because I’ll remember how I threw myself at you even though you kept saying over and over again it wasn’t what you wanted.”
A knock at the door interrupted them. “Here now, I’ve brought some lemonade,” his mother said, bringing her a glass.
She shot him a look.
“I’m doing much better now, thank you.” She accepted the lemonade and took a sip. “I was just a little overwhelmed. I don’t get out very much.”
“I’ve decided that Hayden should help you with that. You feel safe with him, right?” Allison smiled.