by Kim Loraine
“We’re going to put the girls down for bed. Will you two be all right down here alone?” Grace asked.
“Oh, come on, love. They’re adults. Let them alone.” Drew’s answer had Sloan blushing. In truth, she’d been ready to dart for the door at the mention of having to talk to Carson without the distraction of Ellie and Evie.
Silence fell between them and Carson took the opportunity to pour each of them another glass of wine. He touched his glass to hers and took a long drink. She followed suit, letting the alcohol ease her tension.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he offered.
“Thanks. I really like your necklaces.”
He frowned until he looked down at the plastic beads around his neck. “Oh, yeah. They’re my royal jewels.”
She loved that he’d been so comfortable playing with the girls that he’d forgotten he’d been wearing their creations. He pulled them over his head and placed the necklaces on the kitchen counter. “But now you’re not a prince.”
“Guess not,” he said. “You still look like a princess, though.”
“You’re good with them.” Her gaze flicked up toward the ceiling, indicating the twins.
He looked down at his wine, and God help her, she wanted him to bring his gaze back to her. “I like kids. They’re honest.”
“That’s true. Sometimes brutally so.”
“Sloan, are you—”
“I’m sor—”
They spoke at the same time, their words running together. He smiled and laid his hand on the counter close enough to hers that she could feel the heat of his body. If he moved an inch closer, they’d be touching. All she could think about was him kissing her on the beach. She wanted him to kiss her again. She took one step forward and closed the distance between them, letting the scent of him engulf her.
He leaned forward, his lips the only thing she could focus on. Eyes closed, she waited for him to close his mouth over hers. Instead, he stepped away and murmured, “I have to go or I’ll kiss you again.”
Clarity washed over her at his words. She wanted him to kiss her. Again and again. But not until they cleared the air. “Don’t go. Let’s finish dessert, then we can go back to my place and talk.”
He toyed with her hair, gaze focused on the strands rather than her eyes. “I always loved your hair. It’s like sunshine.”
Her stomach flipped at his words. “Carson . . .” she started, but didn’t know what else to say.
“I’m not going to be able to stop feeling things for you, Sloan. I need you to understand that. We can talk, hash it all out, hurt each other by reopening old wounds, but it’s not going to keep me from wanting you. First loves last forever.”
Her chest tightened. He was right. They’d never be friends, never be able to sit in the same room or pass each other in the grocery store without that pang of loss between them. “Sometimes you have to reopen the wound before it can really heal.”
He nodded and finally locked eyes with her. “I really want to kiss you right now.”
Oh, God she wanted him to. And he did. The barest brush of his lips to hers. Electricity ran over her entire body at the feel of his mouth, right and perfect.
Grace came around the corner, a little yelp of surprise announcing her. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
Sloan backed up and ran a hand through her hair, cheeks burning. “It’s fine.”
Carson’s phone rang, saving her from trying to explain why the two of them were kissing in Grace’s kitchen. He excused himself and took the call, concern etched on his handsome face.
“So, I was going to apologize for breaking my promise and leaving you alone with him but . . .” A mischievous smile lit up Grace’s face.
“Obviously there’s still a spark.”
Grace laughed. “A spark? That seemed more like a fireworks show.”
“What are you talking about? It was just a little kiss. Barely anything.”
“It doesn’t have to be all sloppy tongues and grabby hands to be explosive. Some of the best kisses of my life have been nearly chaste.”
Carson walked back in the room with an apology written in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go to the station and cover someone’s shift.” He reached out and brushed his fingers over Sloan’s arm. “We’ll talk soon?”
She nodded, her stomach twisting with worry for him. “Be careful.”
The man flashed her a smile that made his eyes light up. “Always.” Then he left, with the door to much more than friendship finally unlocked.
Chapter 9
Sloan stood outside Station 31, her hands clutching a box of freshly baked blackberry cobbler. She swore she could feel her heart beating in her throat as she pressed the buzzer and waited for an answer.
A handsome man with shaggy blond hair and a familiar smile answered. “Hi, can I help you with something?”
The name on his uniform read Oliver, and she quickly understood why he looked familiar. He must be Michael Oliver’s older brother. She’d known the Olivers in passing only, but throughout her childhood she and Michael had been thrown together at various functions. Nothing really stuck between them because he was older and liked cars and football. She’d been into Barbies and fairy wings. “I’m here to see Carson.”
Brow furrowing, the firefighter assessed her. “Who?”
“Um . . . Sully? I guess that’s what you guys call him.”
“Right. The thing is, if you don’t call him that, you must not know him too well.”
Annoyance started to build in her chest. “I know him better than you’d think. Can you tell him Sloan is here?” Then she offered, “I brought cobbler.”
The man’s focus landed on the box she held out. “What kind?”
“Blackberry.”
He snatched the box with a grin. “Wait there. I’ll get him.”
Doubt wormed its way inside her mind. But she needed this. Needed to move things forward or stop them completely. The only way to do that was to face him head-on. When the door creaked open, her breath caught at the sight of him. Carson wore his uniform well. That was an understatement if she was being honest. Fitted to his toned body, the dark blue of the button-down shirt only made his eyes stand out even more.
“Sloan. What are you doing here? Is something wrong?” Concern laced his words.
“I . . . um. I made you cobbler.”
His lips twitched as he clearly fought a grin. “Alex said.”
“I needed to talk to you but I couldn’t wait any more. I . . . I’m sorry for how hard things have been between us. For some of the things I said on the beach.”
His gaze fell from her face to the ground. She’d hit a nerve. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. You’ve always been enough. I only said that because, well, because I needed to make you leave. But last night at Grace’s it was so different between us. Everything felt easier, and I think it’s because I’m finally letting go of our past. I know this isn’t the best time, but I’ve got something important to say.”
“I’m listening.”
“You and I have a lot of hurt feelings weighing on us, and we’ve got a lot of happy memories. I . . . we’ve got to figure this out, but there’s so much history and . . . attraction between us, I think it clouds our minds. You can’t keep kissing me all the time.”
He leaned against the doorframe, a confident smile spreading across his face. “I’ve kissed you twice. If you want, I can make it three times.”
“Seriously.” She laughed. “It’s . . . confusing.”
He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “It might be confusing, but it feels really damn good.”
His hand lingered, fingers brushing her jaw. She wanted to lean in and let him kiss her again, right here in
front of the station, in the middle of town where anyone could see. But that wasn’t why she was here.
“What are we doing?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he grinned. “I have no fucking clue. All I know is even when I’m pissed at you I want to see you.”
She moved his hand away from her face, twined their fingers, and focused her gaze on their linked hands. “We’re doing this all wrong.”
He nodded. “I agree.”
“I don’t really know you and you don’t know me. But . . . there’s something between us that I can’t get past.”
“So? Let’s get to know each other. We’ll back up and do things right.”
She took her lower lip between her teeth and pondered how she was going to say what she wanted to say. “I don’t know how we can go backward from here.”
“Let me take you out. We can start over. See where it goes.”
“Like . . . on a date?”
His grin widened. “Only if you want. I’ll pick you up at six on Friday night. We can go wherever you want. Dinner, movie, dessert.”
“Dancing?”
He laughed, an easy sound she wanted to hear more of. “Sure. Fair warning, though. I’m a great dancer. We did a fundraiser auction once and a few of us did a toned down routine from Magic Mike. Let’s just say, I earned the most in tips that night. I’ve got some wicked hip action.”
Her cheeks heated at the unwelcome fantasy of his hips moving as she was clutching his back and he thrust inside her.
“Okay.”
With a nod, he squeezed her hand. “No sex. I’m just warning you. I don’t put out on the first date.”
She let out a sharp laugh. “That is not what I’ve heard.”
“Casual sex is different from dating. I wasn’t dating anyone. I never dated anyone after you. No one was important enough.”
Her stomach flipped at the seriousness in his tone. “Then . . . I promise. No sex.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want you taking advantage of me. You might have noticed, I’ve got a weak-as-fuck will when you’re around.”
Amusement tickled her lips. “I don’t think there’s anything weak about you.”
He put an arm around her, tugging her against his side. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
The scent she’d craved all night engulfed her as she let him hold her while he walked her to her car. He thought he was weak? The man was the strongest person she knew. With every step they took, she let her heart thaw a little, hoping maybe he was right. Maybe they could start over.
~ ~ ~
Sully ran a hand over his hair before checking his reflection yet again. It was five-thirty. He had to leave to get Sloan in fifteen minutes and he didn’t think he’d felt this nervous . . . well, since he was seventeen. Why was it so different with this woman? She’d come back into his life and infiltrated every aspect of him. He was tired of ignoring the persistent need.
“Okay, Sullivan. You’ve got this.” He would have felt like an asshole, standing there, giving himself a fucking pep talk before taking a girl out, but this wasn’t just any girl. Sloan had been the girl. She still was.
A loud rap on his door had his heart racing even though he knew it wasn’t her. Zeus barked and whined at the door.
“I’m coming, buddy. Sit down.” He shook his head at the dog and pushed Zeus aside as he opened the door.
“You owe me, Sullivan. Big time.” Michael stood on Sully’s doorstep, a neatly packaged caramel apple cheesecake in his hands. “Lena never makes me cheesecake.”
“She’s always loved me.”
Michael frowned. “Yeah? Well, she married me.”
“Poor girl.”
His friend tugged the box back. “On second thought—”
“Hey, hey, hey. I need that.”
Michael shoved past him, reaching down to scratch Zeus on the head before making his way into the living room. “So, who’s the lucky girl?”
“It’s Sloan.”
“Who?”
“Sloan Carmichael. Well, it’s Thomas now.”
Michael’s brow furrowed. “Wait . . . Sloan? Like, Sloan from high school? She’s back?”
“Where have you been, Mike? Do you seriously spend all your time at home or work? She’s been here for months.”
“Shit.” Michael’s eyes widened. “Wait, that was her? She was at the barbecue. I thought that chick looked familiar.” He set the cheesecake box on the coffee table as he settled in on the couch. “Why didn’t you tell me? You doing okay with that?”
There was a big part of him that wanted to unburden himself to Michael. But his issues were just that—his. No one needed to deal with his shit. They all carried their own baggage. “I’m fine. We’re going out tonight, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, but if I remember right, she kind of destroyed you.”
His chest tightened. Yeah, she did. She destroyed him beyond repair when she left. But, Michael didn’t need to know that. “We were kids. It’s so much worse when you’re a teenager and angst pretty much rules your emotions.”
His friend frowned and shoved to his feet. “Sure. Whatever you say, man. Have a good night.”
Guilt swamped him. Michael was like a brother, but Sully wasn’t ready to sit down and have the conversation they needed to have. As he walked his friend to the door, he clapped Michael on the shoulder. “Tell Lena thanks for me, okay?”
Michael’s narrowed eyes met his. “Yeah. You be careful with this chick. I need you sharp for everything we’ve got going on at work. The last two fires have been ruled arson. Our guy is getting bolder and that’s dangerous for everyone.”
“I’m good, man.”
As soon as the door shut, Sully let out a heavy breath. He hated for anyone to worry about him. The scrutiny made his skin feel tight and uncomfortable, like it didn’t fit. A suspicious jingling filled the air and with a sinking feeling in his gut, he turned to see Zeus. The dog’s head was dangerously close to the cheesecake filled box and his nose pushed the white package to the edge of the table.
“Zeus! No!” he shouted, but it was too late. The box fell to the ground. “Shit.”
Zeus dove in, nose first, as Sully scrambled to get across the living room. He reached for the ruined dessert, but a sharp pain radiated up his leg as his shin connected with the edge of the table. He growled in frustration as his shin throbbed and the dog licked caramel and cheesecake off his snout.
“I hope you’re happy. If you get sick while I’m gone, I’m going to be so pissed.”
After he recovered the box, he limped to the kitchen and tossed the box and partially eaten cheesecake into the trash. He sat on a barstool and rolled up his pant leg. A large knot had already formed on his shin. He glanced at the clock on the microwave and groaned. Dammit, he’d needed to leave five minutes ago. Zeus padded into the room, his tail wagging and tongue lolling, proud of himself, no doubt. Caramel still stuck to his whiskers, the dog was unaffected by Sully’s mood.
“Come on, buddy. Let’s get you cleaned up before you track dessert all over the house.”
Ten minutes later, he was seriously late to pick up Sloan, and because he was an idiot, he hadn’t gotten her number. She probably thought he was standing her up. That was the last thing he wanted. Their relationship was held together by weak threads of connection at the moment. He needed to pull them tighter, add more strength, and build a bridge between them. Not weaken the already frail supports.
He pulled his car out into traffic, gripped the steering wheel, and ran through his plan as he drove to her house. Tonight he’d make up for lost time. He’d prove they deserved another chance. He’d make her his.
~ ~ ~
Sloan stared at the photo in her hands, her heart aching with a bitters
weet pang of loss and hope. Deep down she knew she’d done the right thing all those years ago. But now that she saw Carson for the man he’d become . . . she couldn’t help but wonder about the life they might have had. They’d only been kids. Her dad had said it over and over when she’d told her parents about the pregnancy. You’re too young. Jesus, Sloan. You guys are two stupid kids. How can he give you any kind of life? They’d told her not to date him, that he wasn’t part of their plan for her life and he’d resent her if she stayed.
What she hadn’t understood was that her heart had been right when it screamed at her not to listen. Sometimes you have to block out your head and let your heart lead. But the breaths before taking that leap are the most terrifying moments and most people choose to let their heads take control. That’s what she’d done.
The single tone of her doorbell ringing had her nearly jumping out of her skin as she was pulled from the memory. She placed the picture back on the shelf, then ran a hand over her hair and straightened her deep red sweater. She could see the top of Carson’s head through the small rectangular window at the top of her door. He must have been swaying on his feet because he moved from side to side as she approached. It was hard to fight her smile as she shook her head. Some things don’t change. He’d done the same thing when he’d picked her up for prom. Carson Sullivan was nervous.
As she opened the door she started to tease him, but the moment his eyes met hers, all words vanished. He grinned, a crooked smile that sent her heart fluttering.
“You,” he rasped. “You look so beautiful.”
An involuntary smile found its way to her lips at the compliment. “You’re late.”