Sloane. The muscles in his jaw tensed. He turned to find her looking up at him with hands on perfectly rounded hips. Even in her heels, she barely came up to his chest, but she was every bit as menacing as someone three times her size. He usually saw her in crazy patterned scrubs, but tonight she wore a dress that clung to her curves. The candy-cane stockings were a bit much, but that was Sloane. The definition of over-the-top. Over-the-top enthusiasm for boy bands when they were kids. Over-the-top wardrobe choices. Over-the-top amount of love for Barry’s Bakery, where she and his sister and Madison met up every week. And keeping with that trend, over-the-top hate for him.
“What are you still doing here?” he asked. She should have been long gone by now, since the event had ended.
“Erin’s my ride. She’s still off somewhere with Jake, so here I am.” She rocked back on her heels and looked like she was enjoying his discomfort.
Damn it. Where’s the chick who bid on me? He scanned the lobby and didn’t see anyone wandering around, just the rest of the firefighters from the auction talking to their bidders. “If you don’t mind, I’m waiting for my bidder. It’s always a pleasure seeing you, though.” He gritted his teeth. He was at a public event, with the chief around. He’d be nothing but cordial.
“Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.” She held up a pay stub.
He ripped it from her hand and scanned the ticket. There in big letters was Reece’s name. His stomach dropped, and it took everything in him not to crumple up the receipt and chuck it to the ground.
What the hell?
“You bid on me?” He took back all the sour thoughts he’d had about lonely housewives. He’d offer twenty favors to them in exchange for getting out of the four he owed Sloane.
“I wasn’t going to, and then I thought, oh, what an excellent contribution to the Muscular Dystrophy Fund.”
“And you just had to bid on me.”
“Of course. It’s going to be a fun few weeks.” She winked.
He didn’t think it was possible, but his piss-poor mood turned down an even darker road.
And to think at one time, he’d thought Sloane was hot. With curves for days, light-brown skin, full red lips, and honey-brown eyes, she still was. He liked that she wasn’t a stick. He liked having something to grab on to. But when there was zero chemistry there, it wasn’t worth even thinking about.
To put the cherry on top of this ridiculous situation, the chief decided to walk over. “Ah, Jenkins, I see you’ve met your winner. I told her that you would treat her especially nice.”
“Of course, sir. Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He forced his lips to pull into something that might be considered polite. At the very least, like he wasn’t chewing on glass.
Sloane smiled over at him with such a sugary grin, it probably pained her face.
“I’ll let you two kids get to it, then. Have a great night.” The chief nodded to himself, clearly pleased at Reece’s discomfort.
“You too, Chief,” Sloane said.
His pulse hammered as he watched the two of them exchange a pleasant smile. What did she have planned for him?
Reece flexed his fingers, fighting to stay calm. Sloane had no idea that his career was in her hands, and he wasn’t about to tell her. It was information too powerful for this one woman to have.
“So about my favors.” She tapped a bright blue nail to her lips. It matched the color of her hair. Ever since high school, she’d forgone her brown hair and had moved from one shade of the rainbow to the next. He’d seen her with fire-engine red, neon green, purple, but it’d remained blue for the past year. Out of all the colors, he liked this one the most. Ice-cold, like her soul.
“What do you want, Sloane?”
Her teeth raked over her full bottom lip like she was thinking hard about what she wanted. She wasn’t contemplating, though. Sloane didn’t contemplate. She schemed. And he had no doubt that she’d take her sweet time finding ways to make Reece squirm. “I have to think on it. I’ll give you a list of my demands in the morning.”
“You don’t have anything that comes to mind? Not one thing?” It was pointless to argue with her. They’d just go around in circles until both of them left pissed off. That was how it usually went. A year ago, the day after the incident where this whole feud had started, she’d declared he was scum on the bottom of her shoe and then poured her entire cran vodka in his lap. It hadn’t improved since then.
“Oh, I want so much.” Her tongue glided over her lip as she locked eyes with him. “But I’ve always heard delayed gratification has a much better payoff.”
His dick twitched in response, thinking about what that tongue could do in other places. Damn it. No, this would not be happening. Not while staring at Sloane’s lips, of all things.
She pushed up on her tiptoes and whispered into his ear, “I’m going to give you everything you deserve.”
Reece swallowed hard. He knew that it was wrong to find that sentiment hot as hell, because the woman wanted him taken down like big game with a bazooka, but tell that to his hammering pulse.
“Just send me a text. You know my number,” he said.
“Have a good night, Reece. Rest up. It’ll be a long few weeks ahead for you.” Her lips curved into a smile that promised wicked fulfillment of that threat.
He waved her off. Anyone else, and he might brush it off, but he knew Sloane’s wrath. Witnessed it firsthand. He had every reason to be sweating in his turnouts.
Chapter Five
The next morning, Sloane slid into the booth at Barry’s. This was her, Erin’s, and Madison’s go-to place to meet up, share about their day, and sip rich, decadent coffee. Sloane used to work here in high school, to which she attributed her caffeine addiction.
“I got so many good shots last night.” Madison plopped into the booth next to Sloane and pulled out her camera. She powered it up and flipped through a few of the pictures. Most of them were of the men in their gear. But there was one of Sloane holding up her paddle. Her mouth was open and her eyes set in concentration. It must have been the exact moment she’d yelled out the winning amount.
“You’ll have to print that one out for me. I didn’t even see you there last night.”
“It’s a photographer’s job to be a ninja. I shouldn’t be noticed. All I need is to get the perfect shot.”
Madison had been snapping photos since middle school, when they’d taken a photography class together. She’d since been named the top wedding photographer of Portland two years in a row. The woman had an eye for details and managed to capture a myriad of emotions in a single shot.
“Hear anything back from that show you applied to?”
Madison was hell-bent on making it onto Professional MeetCute. She claimed it would be a good career builder, that it would give her international reach. Sloane didn’t watch a lot of reality TV, but most of the nurses in her unit were glued to the show. The premise was simple—people of all walks of life and different professions were brought together to complete physical and mental challenges. Madison’s parents had both passed within the last year, and it was something her mother had always loved. Sloane guessed that this was a way to pay respects to her mom. That was the only reason she could think of for why her shy best friend would want to be in the spotlight of millions of viewers.
Madison shook her head. “They said that selected people would be notified in the New Year.”
“Not too much longer, then.”
“I’m busy, anyway. I’m completely booked with Christmas weddings.”
“I thought you were going to do Christmas with me this year?”
Sloane’s parents had decided that they’d spend the holidays down in Florida in their new time-share. Missing Thanksgiving and Christmas was a first for them. They’d invited Sloane to come, but she couldn’t get that much time off to make the trip. Plus, she’d peeked at the December extended forecast, and there was snow predicted for the entire week of Christmas. Sloa
ne had experienced a rainy holiday. Even an icy one. But never a white one. There was no way she’d miss this opportunity.
“I’ll be there in the evening. Just have a couple of shoots in the morning,” Madison said.
Moments later, Erin slid into the booth across from Sloane and Madison, bearing a latte and a plate with three cherry tarts. They were Erin’s favorite. Sloane was more of a lemon fan, but her philosophy was a free tart was her favorite kind of tart. “Sorry I’m late. I got caught up in traffic.”
Sloane snagged a tart. “Traffic made you late . . . by foot?” She lived five blocks from here.
“Okay, fine. I was with Jake, and we had a late start to the morning.”
“At least someone in our group is getting some.”
Erin smiled but didn’t deny Sloane’s comment.
“So you never did tell me. How did last night go? I tried to find you two after the auction, but you were both miraculously gone,” Madison said.
“You didn’t actually kill my brother and then hide his body, did you? Because that might be a breach of the friendship code.”
“Before you drove me home? Not enough time. I did manage to kick some dirt on the fresh grave, though.” She bit into the cherry tart, and the flaky, buttery crust melted on her tongue.
“I still can’t believe you dropped three hundred bucks on Reece, of all people,” Madison said, wide-eyed. Her red hair was pulled into a messy bun, and she leaned over the table, grabbing a sugar packet from the tiny bin in the corner of the table. She opened it and dumped it into her coffee. “There were much better-looking guys there that I wouldn’t mind washing my car.”
“Yeah, but none as special as Erin’s brother.” She’d gone to bed last night contemplating if this was really a smart choice. She’d landed on the opinion that maybe it’d been a rash decision. But not much she could do about it now. She’d see it through, because now she was getting her money’s worth. The only plus side was that this was tax deductible.
“I wouldn’t want to spend any more time with him, especially with how he treated you,” Madison said.
“I still can’t believe he said those things to you. It makes me want to punch him in the face,” Erin said.
“Line up,” Sloane said.
“Man, how come I never have opportunities like this fall in my lap? I’ve had plenty of ex-boyfriends who needed to be put in their place. You’re a genius, by the way,” Madison said.
Let’s be real here. Madison could barely manage an evil glance, let alone sabotage. Sloane clapped her hand on Madison’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’ll get to my level one day, Padawan.”
A piece of tart dangled from Erin’s lip, and she swiped at it with the pad of her thumb. “So what do you have planned? Besides total annihilation, of course.”
It wouldn’t be a complete and utter takedown. She wasn’t that cruel. Also, she didn’t have enough time on her hands to really get into the whole ruining-someone’s-life thing. But she did want to make him squirm a bit. “I don’t know.”
She thought back to last night and her odd interaction with the chief. She clutched her cup of coffee between her palms, savoring the warmth of the mug in her chilled hands. “The weird thing is, the fire chief wants me to report back to him. Is Reece in some kind of trouble at work?”
Erin shrugged. “Beats me. He always seems happy after a shift.”
She still couldn’t shake the interaction they’d had. How he’d eyed Reece with suspicion. Like he truly didn’t like him. Welcome to the club, Chief. There’s a line out the door.
So Reece would get a taste of his own medicine, just a little harmless fun to put him in his place. Then she’d be on her merry way.
“What if you made him paint your toes?” Erin offered.
Sloane grimaced. “First, I don’t want anyone touching my feet. Second, that’s too nice.”
“What if you made him eat something really gross,” Madison chimed in. “Like cow tongue or Rocky Mountain oysters.”
“We’re not in middle school. It needs to be something more strategic. Reece is all about himself. We need to show him that there’s more to the world than him.” Maybe she’d make him wait it out till after next weekend. She had a shift at the Humane Society and would come up with something while walking the dogs. Inspiration always seemed to strike her there.
And then it hit her. Reece needed to think of other people. Well, she had an idea.
“Oh, I’ve got something.” She cackled as she pulled out her phone and clicked on her messenger app.
Sloane: I have your first task.
The first message beeped through Reece’s phone as he was scrubbing toilets at work. It had been a week since he’d been shot, and his stitches itched and pulled each time he moved. The pain had mostly subsided, but he was more than ready for them to dissolve. The man who’d shot him was in jail awaiting trial. Let him rot in there.
Hollywood and Jake were somewhere in the station performing their daily duties of keeping the station clean and functioning. They’d already met for their morning debriefing, and the chief hadn’t even looked in his direction. Which was an upgrade from the tense meeting in his office last week.
He tossed the toilet scrubber into its container and replied to Sloane’s message. The faster he got this over with, the better. He’d tried apologizing long ago, but they were far past that now.
Reece: What is it?
Sloane: I’ll need you to come with me somewhere this weekend.
Reece: Should I bring a shovel and trash bags?
Sloane: Not this time. But I like your thinking. Wear clothes that you don’t mind getting dirty.
“Your face is turning a weird shade of purple, man. Everything okay?” Hollywood asked as he walked into the bathroom. Cole’s nickname fit, given his uncanny resemblance to a big-name actor all the women seemed to fawn over. He was a damn good firefighter and had been on Reece’s and Jake’s engine for a few years.
Reece clicked out of his message app and shoved his phone back into his pocket.
“Just the auction. How did you get out of doing it, anyway?” Hollywood was still new enough to the station that he should have been first pick for last night’s event.
“Picked up a shift for Gonzalez. Figured they couldn’t make me if I was working.”
If he’d had the sense to avoid the chief before the auction, he may have gotten away with it too. “Smart man.”
“Has Sloane decided your fate yet? I’d expect her to have a grocery list of items for you by now.”
Reece shook his head. Of course Jake had told him. His men gossiped more than a bunch of grannies on a park bench.
But Hollywood was right. That was how it normally worked. Even though bidders technically had four weeks to space out the tasks or chores—which was how the event was created—usually the bidders had the four chores at the ready. Reece could knock them out in a few hours. There was no doubt in his mind Sloane would drag this out to the very last possible minute.
“Apparently I’m needed to escort her somewhere this weekend.”
He raised a brow. “Like a date?”
“Doubt it. She told me to wear clothes that could get dirty.”
Another text buzzed in his pocket, but he chose to ignore it.
“Should I be worried for your safety?” Hollywood asked.
“I can handle a woman who only comes up to my chest.” She might talk a good game, but Sloane wouldn’t actually do anything to hurt Reece. Probably.
“We are talking about the same Sloane, right?”
Reece ignored Hollywood’s comment. “Don’t you have a truck to wash?”
“All right, man. Just let me know if you need me to bail you out. Or delete your browser history before your mom cleans out your apartment after the funeral.”
Reece flipped him the bird in response, but Hollywood was already out the door and heading out into the engine bay.
“I can handle her,” he grumbled, and the
n grabbed the toilet brush, finishing up in the bathroom. Unable to ignore the phone in his pocket, he pulled it back out and looked at her message.
Sloane: Might also want to wear shoes that you don’t mind getting ruined. See you Saturday. ;-)
Where the hell was she taking him?
Chapter Six
Reece stopped by his mother’s house thirty minutes before he needed to pick up Sloane for wherever she was taking him today.
He made it a habit to stop by on his days off to help around the house. Swap out a light bulb for her, fix an appliance that was on the fritz. Today he was changing the filter in her fridge since the light had been on for a few weeks.
He tore open the filter box, extracted the old one from the fridge, and put the new one in its place. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard above the sink and filled it several times, dumping the water into the sink until there were no longer little black beads in the water.
“Thanks, honey.” His mom kissed his arm and gave it a squeeze. “What are you up to today?” She sat down at the kitchen table and opened up the ledger she kept for her food truck. She’d owned and operated Butter Me Up since Reece was a kid. He’d grown up helping hand out flyers, cleaning windows, and when he was a teen, helping behind the register in the Airstream. The smell of peanut butter and freshly baked bread would forever be ingrained in his sinuses.
“Just going out with a friend.” He didn’t bother telling his mom that it was Sloane he was going with. She’d just give him a hard time and start playing matchmaker. She’d kept off his case for the most part after things had gone south with Amber. And now with Erin back in town, it had taken her interest in Reece’s life down a notch.
“Well, have fun.” She was distracted, hooking the side of her glasses between her teeth as she regarded the papers.
“Anything else I can do for you before I go?”
She shook her head and waved him off. “You go. Love you, sweetie.”
“Love you too.”
Just as he was about to head out the door, his sister Andie came out of her room, some horrible punk-rock music blaring.
Up In Flames (Flirting with Fire Book 2) Page 5