Burning Both Ends

by Sinclaire Jayne

  “You’re pretty hard on yourself,” Dare said softly. “And you didn’t have to explain it all to me. I just didn’t know you had been married. I felt like I’d read you wrong.” The last part was confessed in a whisper.

  “I know,” he said. She finally stopped moving, and he slid his palms down her arms, aching to hold her, but she was still poised on the balls of her feet. “I’m sorry.”

  “It shouldn’t make a difference, I know,” Dare said, biting her lip, a habit that always turned his heart over and aroused him because it was the one little involuntary habit she had that indicated vulnerability, and when she did that, showed a little crack in her armor, she let him in a little bit. And he wanted in so much more. “I told you about Ryan.”

  Shit.

  “Yeah, baby.” He tried again to pull her close, and this time she let him hold her. Her heart pounded, but so did his. God, she’d threatened to leave him. He breathed in the scent of her hair. “You did. I can tell you everything,” he said, loving the way her silky strands caught on his stubble. “Anything you want to know, but I find that I’m still selfish. I want to spend the day together. Just us, so give me a little time to see why she’s here. If you want, you can come down too. I don’t have anything to hide.”

  “The memories clearly bother you, Lock,” she said.

  “She and I both made mistakes,” he said. “And I was angry at myself and angry with her for a long time, but it’s better to get it out there,” he said decisively. “I avoided talking about her with you long enough. She was a terrible wife, and I was a terrible husband. We started out wrong, and I tried to keep the marriage intact for my sister and brothers, but it was wrong for her, wrong for me and wrong for my brothers and sister, but I don’t wish her ill, and I don’t want to ever imply she was the only one at fault.”

  Dare touched his chest. “You have a good heart, Lock. And I still think you’re pretty damned hard on yourself.”

  “I think I have good company there.” He smiled and tried to get her to meet his eyes. She didn’t and Lock felt like a spike had just been hammered into his head and his heart. He hated that he had hurt Dare.

  He felt so inadequate to make this right.

  He closed his eyes. Damnit. He should have told her. He’d thought about it when they were rowing, but he hadn’t wanted to mar the beauty of the day. Plus he was afraid anything too heavy would drive her away.

  Selfish. Coward.

  He still hated the reminders of his failure as a husband and as a man and as a brother, and this was all so new and unexpected with Dare. “I’m sorry” seemed so inadequate, but he said it anyway. She finally looked up at him, and her body seemed slighter in his arms as if the fight had gone out of her.

  “Finish your shower,” Dare said. “I’ll entertain your guest. I might even put on a shirt.”

  “She saw you like that?” Lock looked momentarily stunned and then he was fighting back a laugh. Dare looked a little less fragile. She even grinned and rewarded him with a cocky tilt of her chin.

  “It was your fantasy, not mine.”

  “I’m going to need espresso every damn morning.”

  In the end she did put on a shirt. One of Lock’s uniform shirts, but she buttoned a couple of buttons and in bare feet and palming the coffee, she walked back downstairs.

  Melissa paced around the sitting area. Dare, who’d always moved quietly, watched her for a moment, noted her agitation and wondered about it. Seven years was a long time for so much pent-up emotion if Lock and his ex-wife were really ex, but what did she know about relationships? She’d only had one. And she’d realized by spending these past weeks with Lock, that her relationship with Ryan, that had been the cornerstone of her life, had been so different. She’d been a teenager. And she’d followed Ryan’s lead more than she realized. With Lock, she was a full participant, giving her opinion at work and when they were alone together. Lock never made her feel less or that she should do something because he said it. Now when she looked at the picture of Ryan every night on her phone, he looked so young, like those kids at the rowing center today. And she was twenty-six. Still young, but far from a girl.

  There was so much she didn’t know about Lock. She realized that now. Seeing Melissa had been like a slap, and yet, she felt like she knew the important bits, and it wasn’t just how his eyes darkened to black right before he orgasmed, and how his hands made her feel so cherished as they stroked over her, or that when he rowed and found his rhythm on the Yarra, his face took on a sense of peace and happiness that made him glow and was so beautiful to her she wanted to protect him.

  She’d never felt that before.

  Ever.

  With anyone. It scared her. But it felt good. Right. Even though it should feel wrong.

  “Lock will be out of the shower soon,” Dare said, breezing into the room.

  Melissa jumped.

  Dare curled up in a chair and sipped the coffee. Melissa bit her lip, and looked around as if searching for an escape.

  “Have a seat,” Dare invited.

  Melissa froze and then, clearly reluctant, she perched on a chair. Dare stared, but Melissa’s eyes darted all over the room.

  “The paint color in here is different,” Melissa accused. “And the kitchen’s all updated now. Did Lachlan just do this?”

  She sounded surly as if Lock should have stayed frozen in time waiting for her to return.

  “He didn’t want to make any changes to the house when we were married. Wanted to keep it just as it had been when his parents had been alive like a museum.”

  Dare stared at Melissa. Did she really not have a clue about why Lock hadn’t wanted to redecorate a house after his parents had died, leaving young children orphaned and him their only family. And to still be bitter. She sipped the latte, but the taste was off. And her stomach lurched weirdly. She put it down to being around Melissa’s negative energy. Poor Lock. Dare wondered if she should try to get rid of her, but stifled the impulse. She wasn’t a permanent fixture in his life. She couldn’t let herself be. And the fact she had to keep reminding herself that was worrying.

  “Are you... dating Lachlan?” Melissa finally demanded in a brittle voice.

  Dare considered her answers, while she let the latte warm her hands. She decided she didn’t want to go easy on Melissa, but couldn’t explain to herself exactly why because Lock had to be temporary for so many reasons.

  “We’ve pretty much moved beyond the dating stage.”

  Melissa’s mouth dropped open and Dare leaned further back in the chair and drew her legs up, crossing them tailor style. She stretched one arm up and over the side of the winged chair, consciously taking up more space.

  “You seem surprised,” Dare said.

  She swallowed the other comments that burbled on her lips. Lock wasn’t hers. He wasn’t territory. But she felt fierce. Protective. Lock had clearly been upset that Melissa had shown up. Angry too.

  “Lachlan doesn’t have time to date,” Melissa snapped. “Or to have a relationship. He just wants a housekeeper. He’s married to his job.”

  So, Dare thought, was she. And Lock didn’t seem remotely interested in a housekeeper. And even when they’d been trying to avoid having sex together, they’d had fun. They’d worked out, gone for runs, she’d helped him in the terrace garden a couple of times. He’d grilled out a few meals with her and was far neater than she was and she’d found herself unconsciously upping her game. But she sipped her latte, looking, she hoped, calm and thoughtful. Backing down from a challenge was not in her nature, but she didn’t want Lock’s dealings with Melissa complicated because she’d felt the need to score points against an opponent she didn’t need to engage.

  “And don’t get me started on how much he likes to work out. Always rowing or running or the gym if he’s not at work,” Melissa said.

  Present tense. Not past. Either Melissa wasn’t so past or she was nursing a grudge and keeping watch on Lock. Maybe that was why she’d shown
up this afternoon.

  “Firefighters have to keep in top shape,” Dare said neutrally. “Job requirement.”

  “So they can carry kids out of windows, I guess,” Melissa said, her voice sharp.

  Oh. That video. The one that had created a shit storm for Lock for a few days. The one that had brought the commander of Melbourne Metropolitan down to their little station. She’d thought it so sweet that Lock had tried to protect her—run interference with the press, assuage the demands of her family—that had to burn. Especially as they’d only been pissed at Lock that she hadn’t had full bunker gear. Her father and uncles should have been up in her grill, not Lock’s.

  So she was at least part of the reason Melissa was here.

  “Yes,” Dare agreed calmly. “So they are prepared for all situations in the field.”

  “So, you’re the one from the video? You and Lachlan really? I can’t believe he’d get involved with a coworker. He was always so self-righteous.”

  The shock and outrage on Melissa’s face could have been funny, but Dare was disturbed by the last comment. Melissa could make trouble for Lock if she wanted. Dare didn’t know how much and didn’t want to find out. This encounter required finesse, something she had never excelled at. Tact and finesse were so far out of her wheelhouse they were in another country. Maybe Lock could calm Melissa down. But why should he have to unless, doubt niggled, Melissa wasn’t that far in the past.

  Melissa laughed hollowly.

  “Don’t get too comfortable here. I was the love of Lachlan’s life. He doesn’t do relationships anymore. He hasn’t been with anyone other than a hookup since we split up.” Melissa looked really pleased as if Lock’s isolation and loneliness was an accomplishment.

  “No stalking laws in Australia?” Dare asked, finding it harder and harder to sit still and not demand to know what Melissa wanted. It was none of her business although it felt like it was all her business.

  “I still have friends who work in Metropolitan. They talk and let me know how he’s doing.” Melissa waved aside the stalking accusation. “But Lachlan’s not getting married again. He swore he’d never do it more than once. Told me that before our wedding day to settle my nerves. And he doesn’t want a family. At all. Ever.” Melissa delivered this last pronouncement with a bitterness that would have stung had Dare not already been reminding herself daily of her exit strategy, but still the comment hit. Found a target she didn’t know she had. “And don’t even think about having an oops.” Melissa crossed her arms and her eyes narrowed as if glaring at a memory. “He’ll go ballistic and accuse you of all sorts of terrible things.”

  “Melissa.” Lock entered the room, immediately owning it with his barely leashed tension and sheer animal magnetism.

  His hair was still wet and slicked back with careless fingers and his scent of clean pine and sandalwood immediately reminded Dare of how his skin tasted, and of how his mouth felt as it explored her body. His body was fluid in jeans that hung low on his hips and his worn navy fireman’s T-shirt hugged his muscled frame.

  Melissa shot to her feet. “Lachlan.” She smiled, but it faltered as his mood clearly registered.

  “Why are you here?” His expression was tight, uncompromising, and his mouth a grim line. “What do you need?”

  Dare had only seen him like that once after she’d climbed out the window, and even then his hands had been so gentle as he’d checked her for injuries.

  “I wanted to see you. Obviously.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll go take a shower,” Dare said, rising gracefully from the chair.

  Lock followed her out, and stopped her in the hall that lead to her suite. He took her hand, laced their fingers, and brought hers to his mouth, kissing each one and then holding their linked hands to his cheek. As tense as he’d looked before, now he looked younger, softer.

  “You can stay,” he invited. “Or wait for me in the kitchen,” he whispered.

  “No more naked coffee-making for you,” she said, trying to hide her uncertainty. “You need to...” She indicated the room behind him. Then she handed him back the latte since her stomach was really feeling sloshy now.

  “Yes, but it won’t take long to get this sorted.” His expression was tight and his eyes searched hers for what, she didn’t know. “I want to spend today with you. The whole day and tonight. Just us.”

  She wanted that too. Her heart thudded. This was getting intense. She hadn’t spent a whole day with a man like a couple except as a teenager with Ryan. But they’d been kids. Not sleeping together. Her stomach flipped, whether from fear or longing she had no idea.

  He leaned his forehead against hers. “Say yes.” His breath warmed her face, mingled with hers.

  She should say no. Tell him she had other plans.

  “Yes.”

  The light that flared in his eyes was worth it, and she went to her room. They both knew the score. That she’d leave. That this was so very temporary. But she was the one who always advocated seizing the moment. She had dates on her body to prove that life was fleeting and needed to be lived fully each day.

  He turned back to Melissa, his expression grim.

  He held up his hand when she burst into speech, something about how Dare had been rude and acted tarty and wasn’t his type at all and that she was worried about him. She even said Dare was only out for money.

  “Enough,” he said again, his hand held out. “First. I want the key back, Melissa. Then we’ll talk.”

  Melissa crossed her arms. “This was my home too.”

  “Not for seven years, Melissa. I want the key.”

  “You going to give it to her?” She sounded outraged. “She’s not your type. She’s... she’s...” Melissa lacked the imagination to come up with a suitable word to describe Dare, and Lock didn’t give a shit about her opinion.

  “Key, Melissa. Then you tell me what you want. Then you leave.”

  “Why are you behaving like this? I was your wife.”

  “Was,” he said softly careful not to let any reaction show.

  It would feed her. She craved conflict and drama like he craved a long row or run in the morning.

  She crossed her arms. “You’re not going to marry her are you?”

  Was that why she was here, because she heard her was with a woman? He looked at her, his mind turning over possibilities. He could see her struggle, trying to think how to play this. She had been exhausting as a wife, trying to manipulate him, guilt him. She’d even wanted him to send his sister and brothers to distant relatives or away to boarding school so they could finally start living their lives.

  Money?

  He’d paid heavily in the divorce. Had barely managed to keep the house. His siblings’ home. For years, he’d felt guilty about marrying Melissa. He’d felt that by trying to make his brothers and sister’s lives easier, he’d made everything worse.

  But now, since he’d met Dare, he just felt done with the past—only looking forward. It was like he was finally relieved of his burdens of guilt and shame and regret and he could just be a man.

  “I’ll walk you out,” he finally said, no longer feeling obligated to at least hear her out.

  “So I can keep the key?” She smiled.

  “Sure. I’ll change the locks.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  He opened the front door and steered her out. Her face was pale with anger.

  “Fine,” she practically shouted. “Here’s your key back. But I don’t think she’s going to want it. I know she’s at your station. And I know what the stupid departmental policies are since you were always quoting them and studying them and boring me to death with all of your rules and obsession about your job and getting a promotion and rowing and family and this elephant of a house. It will be hard to enjoy it when you don’t have a job!”

  She threw the key at him and he caught it. Then Lock closed the door. Her words sank under his skin, and for a moment he hesitated, the key burning a hole in
his hand. Then he set it down on the entry table and walked toward Dare’s room, already shrugging off his shirt. He might have already had a shower this morning, but it seemed symbolic, washing clean the past. Starting the morning over the right way. He dropped his pants when he opened her door to her bedroom.

  He was done with rules and playing it safe.

  Chapter Thirteen

  She was late. Dare sat in a camp chair and stared blankly across one of the first responder tents, hundreds of kilometers from Melbourne. She downed a bottle of water and frowned at the trays of sandwiches. The thought of meat turned her stomach, but they had fruit. She should eat. This was the first chance she’d had to sit and to eat in over eight hours. Dare was finally getting her wish to see a bushfire up close and personal, and all she could focus on was that she was late. And not just a little late.

  She’d been here for almost two weeks, trying to ignore the fact that she was late. She should have clued in her first month at South Yarra station when Mim had asked for tampons so she wouldn’t have to stop on the way home. Dare had been carrying them around because she’d felt like her period was about to start, but it never had. She’d made mental excuses that as a trained, advanced life support medic she knew were ludicrous. She was dehydrated and working full-out so she hadn’t ovulated. Her hormones were still off from the travel. But after feeling like she was going to start her period at any minute for over a month now, and having tender and now swollen breasts coupled with mild nausea and loss of appetite and a sense of exhaustion that felt like a wave hitting and dragging her under, Dare was running out of excuses.

  But she was on the pill! True she’d missed one dose when she’d flown to Australia, but she’d doubled up the next day, and she and Lock had used condoms every single time. No carelessness for Lock.

  She nearly groaned. What the hell was she going to do about him? How would she break that news to the man who never ever wanted children that, surprise, the woman heading back home to the States in a few weeks had another passenger on board?