Standing Outside the Fire

by Jillian Neal

  But Jamie was so very, very real. Sitting there right with her begging for a chance. His warmth and his protection and every single thing she already adored about him were right there in the palms of her hands and all she had to do was hold on.

  Her heart thundered in her ears. She was dizzy with the possibility, and she was so sick and tired of being afraid. Maybe nothing good ever came from fear.

  Cautiously, she pressed the words from her mouth. “What if I have questions? What if there’s something I want you to teach me? And these things I don’t know that everyone else already does know, will you teach me and not tease?”

  He looked wounded at her question, but she needed his assurances if she was going to do this. “When have I ever not answered something you asked me? And for the love of god, Charlie, what kind of asshole would I be if I teased you for having questions about things you haven’t done?”

  “Please just say you won’t.”

  “I would never. Don’t you get it? You asking me things, letting me show you things, teaching you how it could be between us, that’s my fantasy.”

  Shock whisked over her skin. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.”

  “What happens when we go back home? Does this all stop?”

  “That is entirely up to you.”

  “What about your job?”

  “Hey,” he brushed her hair away from her shoulder. “Let’s take it one day and one moment at a time, okay? We’ll deal with Holder County when we get back there.”

  “You promise this won’t change our friendship?”

  “I swear to you. Go get me a Bible, I’ll swear on it too.”

  “Okay then.” She took a tentative breath. “I want to try.”

  He crushed her to him, hugging her until she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to breathe and for the first time in her life she didn’t care. She giggled when he peppered kisses on her cheek and jaw. “So, how does this work? Where do we start? I need a plan.”

  Jamie laughed at her outright. “Guess that’s what I get for falling for an OT.”

  “Plans are important,” she insisted, though she was perfectly willing to do whatever he wanted, plan or not.

  “Come take a shower with me. That’s where we start cause I’m sick of smelling like gasoline.”

  As badly as Charlie wished she was the kind of girl who’d hop right into Jamie Holder’s shower with him, she just wasn’t that kind of girl. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because.”

  “Not an answer.”

  Somehow in all of her negotiations about this she’d forgotten that he’d likely want to see her naked. Or at least he thought he did. “I still need to leave my shirt on when we’re together.”

  “No.”

  He offered no other words to soften that blow. Her brow furrowed. “Yes.”

  “You said you trusted me. Trust me with whatever it is you’re so worried about that’s under that shirt. You’re fucking beautiful. Inside and out.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not beautiful there.”

  “You’re beautiful everywhere, but tell me why you think that.”

  This wasn’t the kind of story that she ever wanted to tell. She certainly didn’t want to start at the beginning. “Uh,” she let her eyes rove the room, desperate for some kind of distraction. Nothing was readily available, however. “I have some scars. Bad scars.”

  “From the fire?” he urged.

  She nodded and continued to study the wood grain on the floor.

  “Look at me,” he commanded. She immediately complied. “Do you think I’m attractive?”

  Incredulity morphed her features. “Is the sky blue? Are fire hydrants red? Do cows moo? That’s a ridiculous question. Everyone thinks you’re a hunk. You’re Jamie Holder.”

  “But do you think I’m a hunk?” he continued to prod.

  She cocked her jaw to the side and rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

  “Good. Now we’re getting somewhere. If I had scars anywhere on me, from some horrible moment in my life, would that make me less attractive in your eyes?”

  “Of course not.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “But what? You think I’m that much of a shallow prick?”

  His words cinched her vocal cords. “I don’t think you’re shallow at all.”

  “It sounds like you do.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Then make me understand, baby. Stop being afraid, please.”

  She did owe him an explanation if for no other reason than insinuating that he was shallow. “The other guys that I slept with,” she shrugged like that would brush off the pain and resentment she held.

  “Keep going,” he soothed.

  “They both asked me to put my shirt back on before we…did anything.” It sounded even worse than she’d remembered.

  Jamie’s fists clenched. “Yeah, well, they’re fuckwads, and that’s what I get for not speaking up about wanting you to be mine earlier. I let you get hurt. But, can I please have a chance to prove to you that I’m not a Grade A douche-nugget?”

  “You had nothing to do with it, and you don’t have to prove anything to me. I know you’re a great guy. I just…if I let you see the scars and you want me to cover them up, it’s okay. I’ll understand. They’re hard to look at.”

  This time he caught her face in both of his hands. “At some point I’m going to prove to you that the only thing that’s hard about looking at you is trying to keep my hands off of you.” He stood with her in his arms and headed to the bathroom.

  Panic flooded through her. Her heart pumped it out with every frantic beat. “Uh…don’t you want to eat first?” Delaying getting naked in front of him seemed tantamount to survival. She hadn’t quite had a chance to wrap her head around everything he’d just said he wanted to do.

  He gave her another one of those entirely too sexy half grins. “Oh angel, trust me, I’m going to devour you like you’re my last fucking meal.”

  Trying to remember everything Dec had told him, Jamie decided it was high time he took the reins. He’d hoped the shower would make her feel a little less exposed than if he stripped her and laid her out on the bed in broad daylight. He planned to do that as well, but he had to take things slowly. He couldn’t afford any missteps.

  “You know,” she started in as he flipped on the bathroom lights, “even if we have sex in the shower and you’re not grossed out by the scars, I still won’t be able to have an orgasm.”

  Jamie ground his teeth but tried not to let her see. He set her on her feet and turned on the faucet. The rhythmic drumming of the water on the tile began to create an intimate feel around them. “Make me a deal,” he urged.

  “You mean more than the one I just made where we decided to throw all caution out the window and date for however long it takes for us to figure out that we shouldn’t?”

  Letting his annoyance display on his face this time, he debated but went on with what he’d planned to say. “Actually, this deal applies to us having sex and us having a relationship. I won’t make you coming my only goal if you won’t go into every experience we have determined that you’re not going to. Same goes for you not deciding now that this thing between us will never work. Deal?”

  “Fine, but I need you to be patient with me. You’re asking me to step way, way out of my comfort zone. I’m not good at that.”

  Heat stained her cheeks and frantic worry scalded her eyes. It killed him. “I’m not trying to be pushy. Can I be completely honest with you? I don’t want to wig you out.”

  “I want us always to be completely honest, even if this,” she gestured to the shower, “doesn’t work out like we want.” She’d said we and that was all he needed to hear.

  “Good. I want that too. I’m being impatient with you now because I feel like I’ve spent the last twenty years being way too patient. I’ve wanted you for a long time, and I never cowboyed up and did anything about i
t.” Her thumb when to her mouth and defeat tugged in his gut. “Don’t do that, please.” He eased her hand away from her face.

  “Sorry. That isn’t entirely true, you know. You asked me out the first day we met.” Her grin stoked the embers of need kindling in his groin.

  “Yeah, but I never did again. I was a fool. There, I said it.”

  “You weren’t a fool. And…” she eyed him cautiously now, “I’ve thought about us being together like this before too. Kind of a lot actually. But it just wasn’t worth risking the friendship for romance. It still isn’t.”

  “I know that. I spend most of my life calculating risks, and this just isn’t one. But right now, I want to hear way more about what’s on your mind when you think of us together like this.”

  The blush that had already bloomed across her face reddened again. She was the perfect combination of sexy, beautiful, and cute. And he was about to make her all his, officially this time.

  He yanked his diesel-stained T-shirt up over his head, and let himself enjoy the way she licked her lips as she stared at him. He let his ego loose. It had taken quite a hit last night, so he figured it was okay for a moment. “You like what you see, sugar?”

  She rolled her eyes at him but couldn’t conceal her grin. “Lust is a sin,” she giggled.

  “Is it?”

  “You didn’t pay any attention to the preachers that whole week at church camp, did you?” Her grin continued to expand, delighting him.

  “I was too busy paying attention to you,” he informed her.

  “You’re coming on a little strong. Aren’t you worried I’ll get the wrong idea and start picking out new wedding gowns again or something?”

  He popped the snap on his Wranglers and reveled in her gaze making a quick trek down his abs to his happy trail. “Making up for lost time, remember? Plus, you hated wedding dress shopping. You texted me from dressing rooms when you were hiding from Louann and Becca, remember?”

  She nodded. “I remember. I just wish I’d seen every freaking red flag that Ed and I were a bad idea.”

  “Lots of people use red flags for blindfolds. Now,” he shoved his jeans down to his boots and skillfully stepped out of both, “come here to me.” She hadn’t taken her gaze off of the rigid bulge in his boxer briefs. She stood there staring at him like she was rooted to the bathroom tile.

  He went to her instead. Easing his hands to her hips, he eased her forward one half step. Panic tensed through her. “Come on, now,” he soothed. “It’s me. This is us. I thought I was your ride or die.” He winked at her and slipped his fingers to the clasp on her jeans. She seemed more comfortable with her lower half being exposed so he’d figured he’d start there.

  “You are.” Her chuckle was haunted. It carried far more pain than tears would’ve been able to sustain. He hated that she continued to conceal things from him. “You go on and get in. I’ll be there in a minute,” she negotiated.

  “No.” He shook his head.

  Her stubborn side resurrected, and Jamie was thrilled to see it. Stubborn he could work with. Her fear crushed him. It robbed him of words. “You don’t get to tell me no,” she huffed.

  “Watch me. I’m not leaving you out here with whatever it is that has you somehow convinced that you’re not stunningly beautiful. So, no. I’m not getting in without you. Someday, I’ll be able to convince you that I have no interest in you showing me the parts of yourself you keep polished and pressed and whatever else. All the ways you think you have to be out in the world, that ain’t for me. I want my Charlie, trusting me enough to be real with me. All the people you have to be Charlotte for, they aren’t real and their opinions don’t matter.”

  Chapter Twenty

  For the tenth time in the last few minutes, Charlie wished she could just believe that the scars weren’t that bad, that she could be fully there with Jamie. That he’d like her no matter what she looked like naked.

  She took some solace in his determination. He wasn’t going to let her out of this. She didn’t really want out of it. His hands made quick work of the zipper on her jeans. He shoved them down her thighs then drove his hands down the back of her panties and gripped her ass.

  Somehow the hunger evident in his grip prodded the girl she always wished she could be from deep in her chest. She moved closer to him instinctively. But her cynical side was right there trying to take exact measure of the lusty look in his eyes and the need tensed in his jaw so she could obsess over any changes once her shirt was off. Her mind was not going to play fair, and she knew it. She just didn’t know how to stop it.

  It seemed Jamie had several creative ways to silence the cruel demons who’d been with her since the night of the fire. He sank his lips to hers, taking her breath hostage and suffocating the cruel voices that wouldn’t give her peace. Tired of always being the person who stood in her own way, Charlie gave herself over to the persuasion of his lips.

  The kiss was steeped in ownership, and she was more than willing to let him have her…as long as he understood that she would always want to hide her broken pieces, even from him.

  He dragged her forward until the evidence of his obvious arousal was nestled against the cradle of her thighs. He was astounding—all focused male, intent on satisfaction. To be the object of his need was, and had always been, her most potent fantasy.

  Her breaths tripped as they tried to escape her lungs. He gripped her ass with more force and began to grind her mound against his cock. “Do you feel how fucking hard you make me? Feel how bad I want to be inside of you, baby. That’s all you.”

  She certainly couldn’t argue with his evidence. He eased back to give her breath and slipped her jeans to the floor. His confidence in quick ways to undress women did nothing to give her peace. He had way more experience than she did, and for the first time in her life she admitted to herself that she hated that. Jealousy was ugly. She knew it was, but dammit, she didn’t know how to fix that either. “You’re awfully good at that,” she huffed although her tone was deep with her own hunger.

  He gave her that signature Holder smirk. “I’ve imagined undressing you hundreds of times. I’ve got it all worked out in my head how to get you nekkid as fast as I possibly can.”

  “I thought it was because you’ve undressed so many other women.” The truth was just too close to the surface for her to keep it at bay.

  He paused and then locked his eyes on hers. “You remember yesterday when you asked me why I never kept anyone around for more than a date or two?”

  Charlie nodded and wondered where he was going with this.

  “It’s because none of them were you.”

  Shock shattered over her. He’d been so open about being attracted to her. She’d always been attracted to him as well. She hadn’t thought of it as a secret, really. It was just something they mutually chose to ignore. It was a byproduct of their closeness and nothing else. Until he put it in context of every other relationship he’d ever ended, and there were quite a few of them.

  His honesty became a soft blanket she could use to keep herself covered and warm. It was a shield that would keep her safe, when her clothes were off. He’d always been that for her—a safe harbor, a fierce protector, her hero. She dammed the fear and admitted that she wanted him under the blanket with her.

  She wanted to share the parts of herself with him even if she knew they were hideous. Gathering her courage into a bundle of ripped shards, she pressed on. “I spent three months at the Parkland Pediatric Burn Center in Texas before we moved to Holder County.” The words turned to ashes on her tongue. She assumed that was apropos considering what they were discussing, but she still wanted to gag.

  Jamie gave her a gentle nod and eased his hands up her sides. This time she didn’t stop him. The sensation of having someone else’s hands there was one of the oddest things she’d ever felt. She could feel his warmth through her T-shirt, and somehow it didn’t frighten her. “Second degree? Third? Did your dad stay with you while you were ou
t there? My god, baby, I wished I known you then, so I could’ve at least visited you.”

  “Um…” the memories vibrated in her chest right along with her heart, “third degree. Less than ten percent of my…” she gestured to her chest, “body, so that was good. That’s what the doctors kept saying. That’s still what they say. I was lucky, I guess.”

  “Bet you didn’t feel too lucky back then. I bet you were scared, and I bet you were pissed the fuck off.”

  For some inexplicable reason, that made her smile. He really did know her better than anyone. “A little of those things too. When you have an injury like that on your rib cage, you have to have your arm in an axillary splint to prevent contractures. It, uh,” she raised her arm up in the air beside her head precisely the way it had been in the splint for so long, “looks like this. It was miserable, and I just kept thinking that I looked like I was raising my hand to answer a question in school, only…” her voice snagged on the memory, “I didn’t understand anything. I didn’t have any answers, and I was mostly by myself because Dad and Becca were being treated at Mercy in Oklahoma City. I was just scared and that made me angry at myself. And I was so sad because…my mom,” she tried to shrug away a lifetime of devastation but only succeeded in compounding it further. Her shoulders tensed under the invisible weight. She had to be stronger. That was her job.

  “Keep going, sweetheart.” Jamie folded her into his embrace, like maybe he could help her carry some of the guilt and confusion. “Tell me everything you felt, or wished you felt, or how it all was just so fucking unfair. I want to know.”

  Memories continued to resurface in bits and pieces that didn’t make much sense. She eased off of his chest, though that was the last thing she really wanted to do. But she wanted to share this with him, to maybe have someone who could help her figure out those months of her life that still didn’t make any sense. “That’s when I learned to braid my hair.” She gnawed on her lip, but the words continued to pour from her. “Maya taught me. She was my inpatient occupational therapist. I loved her so much. She’s why I wanted to become an OT. The braiding was for range of motion.” She continued to supply far too many details, but Jamie listened intently like he didn’t want to miss a single word. “She was so great. I felt so hideously ugly, so she always brought things for me to do that sort of helped that, I guess. I remember one day she brought all of these ribbons, and my goal for that morning was to braid all of the ribbons in my hair. It hurt. God, it hurt so bad. It felt like I was stretching my skin so far I was sure it was going to tear apart. I couldn’t stand it, but I refused to stop.”