Firefly Mountain

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Firefly Mountain Page 27

by Christine DePetrillo

Two solid arms cradled her body instead, one at her shoulders, the other behind her knees. Patrick squeezed her body to his, and Gini breathed in that fresh-cut wood scent infused in his skin.

  “What were you doing?” he asked.

  Gini held up the book. “I found this,” she said. “It seemed out of place wedged up there.” She pointed to the top of the shelf.

  Patrick lowered her legs and let his other arm slip from her shoulders once she was steady on her feet. Gini took several steps away from him so she could think. The distance didn’t help. Her thoughts were all jumbled as the feel of Patrick’s skin against the back of her knees lingered. She’d never wanted to touch someone as much as she wanted to touch him.

  Stop it, she warned herself. He wants his space, not you crowding him. She straightened out the front of her T-shirt, backed up a little farther, and looked to the book still in her hands.

  “It’s an animal book,” she said. “For kids.”

  Patrick donned a pair of latex gloves, and Gini silently berated herself for getting her fingerprints all over the book. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She’d been too busy thinking about Patrick. Frowning, she held out the book, and Patrick took it.

  “Where are the kids books usually located?” he asked.

  Gini thought about it for a moment, visualizing the way the aisle used to look. She pointed across from where she’d found the book. “That bookcase over there on the bottom three or four shelves.”

  Patrick pulled an evidence bag from his kit. “So someone had to move this book. Put it purposely up where you risked your life to get it.”

  “I thought it might have been important,” Gini said. “I couldn’t see the title, so I had to get closer.”

  “You could have called me over. I was right here.” Patrick zipped the evidence bag closed.

  “I didn’t want to disturb you,” Gini said.

  “You mean you didn’t want to set eyes on me or be anywhere near me.” Patrick crouched and balanced the book on top of his kit.

  “No,” Gini said. “You don’t want to be anywhere near me. I’m just giving you the privacy you’ve wanted all along.”

  “What are you talking about?” Patrick raised those forest eyes on her, and Gini felt her heart speed up.

  “Since you came here, all you’ve wanted was to be left alone. I’ve been so incredibly annoying asking to photograph you, wanting to…” She let her eyes drop to his chest. “Wanting to touch you, have you touch me.”

  “You don’t want that anymore though, do you? Not after you saw my secret, right? I mean, you ran away pretty quickly.” Patrick stood and rested a hand over his left side as if he were protecting himself.

  “Wait a minute,” Gini said slowly as she took a step closer. “You think I ran from that? From your scars?” She pointed to his chest.

  “You wouldn’t have been the first to do so, Gini. I know they’re wretched. I can hardly look at them, and I’ve lived with them for so long. I would have preferred to keep my secret and not have you run from me.”

  “Patrick.” Gini took another step forward, close enough now that she could reach out and take his hand. She didn’t, but she wanted to. “That’s not why I ran.”

  Patrick narrowed his eyes at her. “Of course it is. It’s a tough secret to keep, Gini, but it’s a harder one to learn.”

  “You’re not the only one with secrets, Patrick.” Gini did take his hand now, and he looked down, confusion written all over his features. “I ran because of me, not you.”

  “I don’t understand,” Patrick said.

  Gini sucked in a breath and heard Haddy’s voice in her head. Talk to him. Suddenly that seemed like exactly the right thing to do.

  “You think those scars would keep me from wanting to be with you?”

  Patrick nodded.

  “Well, then. I guess you don’t think that much of me. I’m pushy, irritating, and selfish, yes, but shallow and cruel, no. At least I try not to be. I like you, Patrick. In fact, I think I more than like you.” Gini paused to shoot a quick glance at his face. His brows were furrowed as he chewed on his bottom lip, listening to her, but clearly still confused as if her words weren’t in a language he understood.

  “I ran away at the beach because I was angry. Angry at myself for not respecting your desire to be left alone and maybe a little angry at the fact that you wanted me to go.”

  “I didn’t want you to see…me.” Patrick’s head bent as he gestured to his side.

  Gini gripped his chin so he had to look at her. “I ran because I didn’t want you to see me either, Patrick.”

  “What do you mean? You’re absolutely perfect.” His finger traced the line of her jaw, and Gini closed her eyes. That simple touch was enough to make her insides flutter.

  “I’m a monster,” she whispered.

  Patrick shook his head and cupped her cheeks with both hands now. He opened his mouth to say something, but Gini shrugged free of his grasp.

  “No,” she said. “I know your secret, and it doesn’t change a thing about how I feel about you. You should know mine so you can decide.”

  Patrick shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Okay, that’s fair. So tell me your secret.”

  “I need to show you.” Gini looked around. “But not here. Come to my farm. It’ll be safer there.”

  “Safer? Gini, just tell—”

  “Patrick, please. If I tell you, you won’t believe me. You’re going to have to see. Come to my farm, please.”

  The desperation in her voice must have convinced him, because Patrick picked up his kit and looked around. “Okay. Are you done here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s go then.” He turned around and led the way out of the aisle. “Midas, venez.” The dog trotted to the front of the market and exited with them. Patrick faced Gini as they stood beside their vehicles. “Show me whatever it is you have to show me,” he said, “and then let’s get this evidence and your pictures to Mason.”

  Gini nodded and climbed into her SUV. She watched Patrick’s truck turn onto the road behind her in her rearview mirror. He was definitely coming to her farmhouse to see what a spectacular light show she could put on. She pushed away all the little voices in her head—ones that sounded like her daddy’s. Patrick’s secret had been revealed. It was only fair to reveal her own. Reveal it and see if he could still want her.

  If he could maybe love her.

  ****

  Patrick parked his truck behind Gini’s in her driveway and wondered what the hell was happening. Did Gini actually say she still wanted him even after seeing him? Did she say she more than liked him? Did she mean she loved him?

  He rested his forehead on the steering wheel until Midas pushed his nose into Patrick’s cheek.

  “You heard her too, right, buddy?” Patrick rubbed the dog’s muzzle. “I’m not imagining things, am I? She did say she wanted me.”

  Midas let out a short bark and nudged Patrick toward the driver side door.

  “Okay, I’m going.” Patrick opened the door, got out, and let Midas jump out after him.

  They met Gini at the barn where she was unlocking the doors. She went inside and grabbed a hose, which she handed to Patrick. He took it as she hefted a block of hay up onto her shoulder.

  “Follow me,” she said.

  They stopped by the house to attach the hose, and Gini made Patrick stretch the hose out as they walked to an open field by her small pond.

  “Gini, what—”

  She waved a hand at him. “Just let me do this. Then you can say whatever you want to say, do whatever you want to do. Even if that means never seeing me again.”

  Patrick wanted to tell her he didn’t want that. No matter what she was about to show him, he wanted to see her again. And again. And again.

  Gini set the hay down by the water’s edge. “The hose is a precaution,” she said. “Be ready to use it.”

  Patrick nodded, not sure why he’d need to use a hose.


  “Piss me off,” Gini said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Get me mad, Patrick. Come on. Say something truly awful.” Gini widened her stance, bracing herself, as she stared at the hay block.

  “Gini, I don’t understand.” What was she trying to show him?

  “Tell me you don’t want me,” Gini said. “That’ll get me good and angry.”

  “I don’t…I don’t…” Patrick sifted a breath through his teeth. “Gini, I can’t say that. I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you.”

  Gini’s smile made Patrick’s knees weak. He dropped the hose and took a step toward her.

  “No, wait,” she said, still smiling, almost laughing. “I’ve got to show you this, Patrick. Pick up the hose and give me a minute.”

  Patrick did as she said and watched as her eyes closed. She looked like a goddess standing in the field with the sun shining off her golden curls, her beautiful face turned up to the sky, a light breeze pressing the front of her shirt to her breasts.

  She was an angel.

  The hay block burst into flames, and Patrick squeezed the hose on as Gini kicked the bale into the pond. The fire hissed to an end as the hay sunk below the water’s surface. Slowly, Gini turned around to face Patrick.

  “Did you…” Patrick’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Did you do that?”

  Gini nodded and sank to her knees in the tall grass. Patrick released the hose and ran to her. She was so pale, and a sheen of sweat coated her forehead. He gathered her into his arms and picked her up. She didn’t say anything as he carried her to the house. Little shudders rippled through her body, and Patrick squeezed her closer.

  “Keys,” he said as he stepped up onto the back porch.

  Gini pointed to her purse on the steps. Patrick set her down in one of the rocking chairs on the porch and retrieved her bag. He set it in her lap, but she shook her head.

  “You.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  Patrick slid his hand into her purse and sifted around a travel alarm clock, a wrench, a cake decorating tip kit, and a packet of cucumber seeds before his fingers closed around Gini’s keys. He tried the keys in the lock until he found the right one then scooped up Gini and brought her inside. Midas wiggled in after them, sniffing at Gini’s dangling feet.

  “Midas, couchez.” The dog sank to his belly by the door, a whimper his only sign he wasn’t happy about Patrick’s command.

  Patrick eased Gini onto her couch, propping up her head on one of the throw pillows. Saber jumped up onto Gini’s stomach and rubbed his cheek along her neck.

  “What can I do?” Patrick asked.

  “You’ve already done it,” Gini said. “You came to me even after seeing what I can do, what a freak of nature I am. Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

  Patrick studied her face. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew she could be dangerous with what she could do, and yet, he couldn’t tear himself away from her.

  “I’m not afraid of fire, Gini. I hate what it did to my family and me. What it does to everyone it touches, but that’s why I became a firefighter. So I could stop it, control it.” Patrick kneeled beside the couch. “You only start fires when you’re angry?”

  Gini shifted Saber to the cushions and rolled to her side to face him. “Yes.”

  Patrick pushed her hair back from where it had pooled at her neck. “Then I guess I’ll have to make sure you’re always happy.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, quick and light at first, then slow and hungrily.

  Gini shifted to make room for him on the couch. He climbed up one leg at a time until he was atop her, their bodies pressed against one another.

  “You make me happy, Patrick. I don’t have to pretend to be happy with you. I just am.” Gini slid her arms around Patrick’s shoulders as she parted her legs so one rested on either side of his hips.

  Patrick nipped at her ear and down her neck until his lips met hers again. They teased and tasted until Patrick thought he was going to explode with need. He wanted Gini, every fire-starting molecule of her.

  “Want to make me even happier?” Gini pushed gently on Patrick’s shoulders so there was a little space between them. Patrick wasn’t particularly fond of that space.

  “I want to make you the happiest you’ve ever been in your life,” he said.

  Gini slid up to a sitting position. “Come with me.” She wiggled out from underneath him and held out her hand.

  Patrick let her tug him to his feet. Gini led him down the hallway past her darkroom, her office, to the doorway at the end. She nudged the door open with her foot and pulled him inside.

  Her bedroom lay in afternoon shadows before him. The bed was an enormous king-sized with a barn wood headboard and frame. It was exactly what he’d thought about making for his own bed once he’d gotten the master bedroom finished.

  Gini eased onto the harvest orange bedspread and leaned back on her hands. She bent her legs so the heels of her feet rested on the edge of the mattress. Her blue eyes and smile sent the invitation.

  All Patrick had to do was accept.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  She didn’t think he was going to come to her. Patrick stood in the doorway of her bedroom, a look on his face caught somewhere between arousal and fear. Was he having second thoughts about wanting her now that he knew she was a human match?

  Gini let one of her legs dangle off the side of the bed. Any minute now she’d have to walk Patrick to her front door and say good-bye. He wasn’t going to make love to her. He had changed his mind. She could tell.

  When Patrick walked deeper into the room, pushed her shoulders down so her back rested on the bed, and crawled up the length of her, Gini nearly screamed in victory. She wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him down to her. She wasn’t letting him get away. Not today, not ever.

  She trailed kisses along his cheek to his ear then forged a path down his neck, up his whiskered chin, and finally to his waiting lips. The kiss was hot, deep, and full of longing—years of stored passion ready to overflow. Gini wanted to bathe in that passion, let it run in rivulets over her skin. She nipped on Patrick’s bottom lip and slid her hands up into his hair.

  They kissed until a sound rumbled in Patrick’s throat, so masculine, so able to turn Gini’s insides into a bubbling Vesuvius. He sat back on his heels and straddled her thighs. The view from where she lay had her depths clutching with need. Patrick’s eyes were black suns with leafy green coronas as he stared down at her. His Burnam Fire Department polo shirt was still tucked into his navy uniform pants as if he were a present waiting to be unwrapped.

  Gini placed her palms on his chest, and his ribs expanded as he took in a swift breath. “Did I hurt you?” she asked.

  Patrick shook his head. “No. I just…it’s only…no one’s touched me in so long.”

  Gini sat up and brushed her lips against Patrick’s as she ran her hands down his bare arms. He shuddered and pulled her closer, feasting on her mouth with hungry strokes.

  “Let me touch you, Patrick. I want to touch you. All of you.” Gini looked into his eyes as she tugged at his shirt. He didn’t stop her as the bottom hem cleared the waistband of his pants. She slid her hands under the shirt and pressed her palms to his flesh. Bumpy and cratered, the skin on his left side was actually smoother than she’d expected. Her fingers grazed the bandage where he’d been hurt during the beach rescue, and she pictured Patrick running off to save those boaters. He hadn’t hesitated at all. Just jumped into action. Gini fell a little deeper on that thought.

  She slowly raised his shirt until he shrugged the rest of the way out of it. The shadows in her bedroom had multiplied and though she wanted to see him, she didn’t turn on the light. There were more ways to see than with her eyes.

  Patrick must have had the same notion, because he made no move to turn on a light either. Instead, he traced swirls onto her thigh and caressed the patch of stomach he’d exposed by lifting her tank
top. He ran his lips along her collarbone, pushing aside the thin straps of her shirt to clear a path for his mouth’s journey along her skin. When he rid her of the tank top, he let out another noise, low and satisfied.

  “You’re so beautiful. So beautiful.” He dropped kisses along the edge of the bright blue lace bra corralling her breasts then he freed them, let them spill into his ready hands.

  Gini arched her back, pressed her breasts into his palms as his touch brought her nipples to tight buds. When his mouth closed over one of her breasts and his tongue flicked over the sensitive tip, she forgot everything. Her name. Her address. Her ability to have intelligent thoughts and form words. There was only Patrick touching her, making love to her, and he was everything she needed.

  ****

  Her hair smelled of wildflowers, and her skin tasted like ripened summer peaches. Patrick could feast on her for the rest of his life and never tire of her flavor. In fact, his craving was only growing the more he drank her in.

  Gini’s hands were on his scars. He knew that, but he could barely feel them there, that skin having lost most of its sensitivity to touch. She hadn’t moved her hands since removing his shirt, hadn’t recoiled at the feel or sight of his ruined flesh. Instead, she kept her right palm pressed to his scars while her other hand worked on unzipping his pants.

  Patrick stopped her so he could investigate her breasts more. The feel of them filling his mouth made him mumble in appreciation to whatever deity had created her. Such perfection had to be applauded.

  Small noises escaped Gini’s throat as he swept his lips between her breasts and caught the other one in his mouth. Feeling her body wriggle beneath his own in what he hoped was pleasure sent a jolt of electricity throughout his system. He was going to have her. Today. Now.

  Patrick slid Gini’s shorts and underwear off so she was naked on the orange bedspread. Her skin nearly glowed in the shadows of her bedroom.

  How could someone so flawless be content with someone like me? It didn’t seem possible, but there Gini was, smiling up at him, working on the zipper of his pants again. She wanted the full show and was handling what she’d seen so far. If the heat coming off her body was any indication of how much she wanted him, he’d better hurry out of his pants.

 

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