Hearts on Fire

by Roberts, Bree

  Okay, all parts of her wanted an encore.

  “We should talk,” he murmured. His thumb was lazily rubbing against the skin of her neck, his warm breath stirring in her ear.

  Jess’s heartbeat quickened and she yearned to reach up and stroke his cheek, to touch his hair. Her body was betraying her again and she was helpless to stop it.

  “Cort…”

  “Hmm?”

  She closed her eyes against the onslaught of emotions coursing through her veins.

  “You left me. I haven’t heard from you in a year. What exactly are we supposed to talk about? I mean, we’ve both moved on.”

  He gazed deeply into her eyes, his own brown eyes smoldering with want, with need. “Have we?” His thumb skimmed along her lower lip. “Have we really?”

  Jess drew a deep breath of frustration. Have we moved on? She thought what she’d been doing the past year was moving on. But really, she’d been in limbo, waiting.

  Waiting for Cort Cavanaugh to come back.

  The realization was like a slap in the face. She’d buried her hopes down deep but they were there. Had always been there. She hadn’t moved on at all. There was nothing different about her life from the previous year, except that Cort wasn’t in it.

  “Why did you never try to contact me?” Her voice was tortured, and Cort could see the pain in her eyes.

  “Jess, I did. At first. You never took my calls so I stopped trying. I can take a hint.”

  Jess remembered curling up in bed, her pillow wet from tears, ignoring the phone when it rang. Stubbornness, pure and simple. And an Irish temper that just couldn’t be tamed. What if she’d answered those calls? How different would the past year have been?

  Sensing her internal struggle, Cort changed the subject. “Why’d you come here? Breaking your own rules now?”

  Jess looked at her feet and pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “I don’t know. The baby, it just tugged at my heart for some reason. I guess I needed to know.” She shrugged. “Needed to see with my own eyes.”

  “That’s a dangerous game to play. It can lead to heartbreak.”

  “No more dangerous than the rest of my life.” And my heart’s already broken.

  Cort leaned in and tucked another stray tendril behind Jess’s ear. “I didn’t move on.” His voice was low, amusement in his eyes replaced by tenderness. “And I’m back. And I want you back.” His finger skimmed along her jawline, sending a quiver into her stomach, and he tilted her chin up, searching her eyes, for what she did not know.

  And apparently finding what he was looking for.

  His lids closed briefly, his face awash with relief, and the faintest of smiles touched his lips. Jess anticipated another fiery kiss. Instead, he pressed his lips softly to her forehead, then turned and walked away.

  Jess swirled the dark red wine around and around in the glass, her feet propped up on the leather ottoman, her eyes mesmerized by the fire in her fireplace. Reaching over to the side table next to her, she plucked a chocolate from the heart-shaped box and popped it into her mouth. The fragrance of the two dozen roses delivered with the chocolates drifted through the room, the smell of the promise of spring, of love. The fire crackled and snapped and she snuggled deeper into the Sherpa throw tucked around her body.

  She reached for the card that came with the flowers and read it for the umpteenth time — “My heart is yours always. Cort.”

  “Damn you, Cort Cavanaugh, for taking the wind out of my sails,” she announced to nobody at all. How the hell was she supposed to muster up some anger and discontent when he pulled a stunt like this? Where was that red-hot temper now?

  She had to hand it to him — the man knew the way to her heart. Jess wondered if chocolate was the downfall of all womankind, or just her. Her own heart was melting just like the little chocolate hearts delighting her tongue.

  A movement at the window caught her eye and she watched through a gap in the curtains with childish awe as the rain transformed into big, fat snowflakes floating softly down. But her pleasure dampened as she sat back, looking around her cozy but lonely house, unable to share the moment with anyone.

  She sighed in resignation. Cort had offered his olive branch. She supposed the ball was in her court and she’d have to swallow her Irish pride and make the next move.

  Chapter Four

  Jess crunched through the snow to her truck. The smell of fresh snow drifted along with the snowflakes that landed on her long lashes, and a soft hush blanketed the town. The clouds were an ash-gray smudge in the sky but it couldn’t dampen her spirits today. She was a woman on a mission.

  She had no idea where Cort was staying, but she was certain that she needed to figure out a way to fix the rift between them. Since tomorrow was Valentine’s Day, she had several options to choose from. Sexy lingerie? Dinner? Hot sex? All of the above? It would be a work day so technically she’d have to wait until the day after to show him that her heart was still his for the taking.

  With hope in her heart for the first time in a year, she stopped at Starbucks for the morning cup of Joe she needed to ease the haze of last night’s wine. She groaned in disgust that she’d eaten every last piece of chocolate from the heart-shaped box, wondering if there was a special place in hell for such gluttonous behavior.

  Next she stopped at Victoria’s Secret to score a sexy red bra-and-thong combo. She was already going to hell for the chocolates, may as well not skimp on the pleasures of the flesh.

  At the grocery store she picked up Cort’s favorite — filet mignon — and ingredients for side dishes and cheesecake, and more wine. Hearts, flowers and heart-shaped balloons were displayed everywhere but it didn’t bother her now. Instead, those things gave her a zing of excitement and anticipation. She wasn’t deluded into thinking they’d pick up where they left off. These things take time, and she had plenty of that.

  After a quick trip home to refrigerate the perishables, she spent the rest of her day at the spa, getting scrubbed, waxed, buffed, and her nails polished to perfection. By the time evening descended, her skin was soft and smooth and her wallet was empty. Her body was a wet noodle, limp from extreme relaxation, and she looked forward to settling by the fire with a good book.

  At nine o’clock she was ready to call it a night and was halfway into her bed when the phone rang. Caller I.D. clued her in and she answered curiously, “Chief Clay. What’s up?”

  “All hands, Jess. Five-alarm. Get to the station and get your gear ASAP.”

  “Yep.” Her terse reply wasn’t heard — he’d already hung up.

  Scrambling back into her jeans and shirt, she grabbed a hair tie and slipped into her snow boots. Apprehension and adrenaline had her heart thumping faster. She’d never been called in when off-duty. This one must be a doozy.

  Her pickup roared to life and she gunned it around corners and through nearly empty streets, making the station in record time.

  Her team was already there waiting for her. “Hurry Jess,” they called out as she raced to the turn-out room where she yanked out her gear, kicked off her boots and stepped into her work boots and pants, pulling the suspender straps up to her shoulders, then she ran for the chief’s office. She’d need to “requisition” another helmet, which was just a fancy word for take it now, pay for it later.

  Down the pole she slid, then hefted the rest of her gear onto her body, and Danny was waiting with her SCBA tank, helping her into it even though they both knew she didn’t need the help. They hopped onto the firetruck and it left the station, sirens wailing like banshees.

  The lights of the town blurred by and Jess looked at her newly manicured nails without really seeing them, wondering what kind of horrors awaited, thinking once again of the Ramsey baby. She began nervously braiding her hair as the truck made its way to the fire.

  “Where are we headed?” Jess asked.

  Mark replied, “You know the Standard Arms Apartments down on Peachtree?”

  Shit.” She shook her head
in dismay.

  The Standard Arms Apartments complex was five stories of one- and two-bedroom apartments. Residents were packed in like sardines because of the cheap rent. The building itself, a brick structure built in the 1950’s, was always one faulty electrical switch away from a disaster, and multiple fines from the fire marshal had resulted in numerous band-aids to keep the place limping along and up to code. Nobody on Jess’s truck was surprised at their current destination, and everyone aboard had been there more than once before for minor issues.

  But a five-alarm fire meant this particular building was done for, for good. And probably meant death for some residents as well. The firefighters sat in solemn silence as the truck approached the building.

  Chaos reigned. Firetrucks, firefighters, ambulances, EMTs, and police choked the street surrounding the complex, and a riot of noise met her ears. Water hoses snaked along between cars parked curbside, and as usual some jerk had blocked the fire hydrant with their car, which now had both front windows knocked out and a hose snaking right through the inside. Water pooled in the streets as the ladder crews continued a steady stream into various sections of the structure in an attempt to tame the inferno, and smoke billowed from blasted-out windows.

  Chief Clay met them as they stepped off their truck and briefed them on the situation.

  “Okay, listen up. We just got word that a couple of guys from C shift are trapped on the third floor south stairwell. They can’t go down farther due to the fire and they can’t go up because the fourth floor stairwell section collapsed behind them. So there’s a hole on fifth you’re going to get to and drop lines for them to get back up. Kyle, Jess, and Danny go up the northern stairwell to the fifth floor and make your way to the south end. Tommy, get that truck maneuvered in on the south end, over there,” he pointed, “and Mark you get a water cannon ready. I’ll be along to help shortly. We need to get that stairwell fire out just in case.”

  “In case of what?” Danny asked.

  Chief Clay’s expression was grim. “In case they can’t get back up to fifth.” He looked each one of them in the eye in turn. “Jess, did you pay for that new helmet?”

  “Of course not, Chief.” She began opening compartments on the truck, grabbing spools of rope and loading it onto her shoulders. “No venting issues I assume.”

  “Venting is completed. Just get your asses in there and bring out our boys.”

  “Jess, it was your turn to bring the S’mores stuff,” Kyle quipped as he lead the way into the building’s northern stairwell.

  Jess shook her head with disdain. “How can you joke about something like this?”

  “How can you not? It’s how I deal with it, blondie.”

  “Test. Test.” Danny keyed up his radio and the others gave a gloved thumbs-up. “Let’s do this.”

  The stairwell was eerily quiet and pitch black and Kyle shone his flashlight in to chase away the darkness. Jess cringed as two rats scurried past, their claws scratching along the concrete floor like fingernails inside a coffin.

  “Well, well, no fire alarm and no emergency lights,” Kyle observed. “I smell a lawsuit.”

  Jess’s heart gave a lurch for the residents that such negligence may have doomed to their deaths, silently praying that against the odds everyone made it out. As they passed the third floor, they could finally hear an alarm.

  “Chief, why can’t we just go down the third floor hallway to the other side? Over.” Jessica stopped her ascent, waiting for the answer.

  Chief Clay’s voice crackled over the radio. “The entire middle section of the second and third floors are gone. Fourth floor is questionable but we know the fifth is still good. Over.”

  “Roger that.”

  They continued on two more flights and entered the north-end of the fifth floor hallway. Here there were working emergency lights and alarms and they made their way slowly toward the other end. A smoky haze cut the light to dim at best, and near the middle of the long hall there was no light at all. They stepped over and around piles of trash and discarded furnishings that screamed “fire hazard.”

  At the end of the hallway they opened the stairwell door to darkness and more smoke. Kyle again flicked on his flashlight to reveal no landing on the other side of the door.

  “Jesus Christ.”

  Jess closed her eyes briefly. Any one of them could have stepped blindly through the door, only to plunge two stories below.

  “Help me with these ropes. We need to find something to secure them to.”

  “Doorknobs is all I see. Jess, you’re the lightest. Let’s lower you down to three.”

  “Oh sure, send the girl.” Her lips tugged into a feeble smile then began tying the rope to her harness, and Danny and Kyle helped.

  Five minutes later Jess’s legs dangled beneath her and she held tight to the rope with one hand as she dropped foot by foot. Her free hand shone her flashlight around as she dropped, vainly shining it down to where the waiting men should have been. The smoke was too thick to see that far down.

  Keying up her radio, she said, “Stop lowering. I’m at three now. Gonna swing a little. Hold on tight.”

  She pushed off the wall with her legs and used one hand to maneuver onto the stair’s landing. Peering down, she could see the flames below, the heat of it causing rivulets of sweat to run down between her breasts.

  “I’m standing. Give me more slack, I want to check things out. And drop that rope down for the other guys.”

  The rope slacked as another two lengths of rope snaked down to hang beside her, and Jess tentatively stepped through the open stairwell door.

  Only the hazy orange glow of fire lit the hallway. Smoke hung thick and lazy in the air, waiting for an escape route. As she stepped into the hall, she dragged the ropes in with her.

  “Fire department. Call out if you can hear me.”

  “Here!” Two figures loomed out of the smoke toward her. “Give me a hand with Mike. We’ll send him up first.”

  Jess’s stomach pitched as she recognized Cort’s voice. What was he doing here? Her insides spun up a little tighter with worry, with the need to get them out.

  “Jess? What the hell are you doing here? It’s not your shift.” Cort’s voice was edgy given the dangerous situation they were in.

  “I got called in. Just help me get Mike hooked up.”

  They tied the extra rope to Mike’s harness with the efficiency and speed of a well-trained team, despite having spent the last year apart, and lead him to the stairwell.

  Jess queued up her radio. “Ready here. Start pulling.”

  Slowly Mike ascended, pulled by Danny and Kyle, and Jess turned to Cort as they waited. They stared at each other through their masks, and she could see the angst in his eyes mirroring her own.

  “The structure won’t hold much longer. You’re going next.” Cort’s stern voice barked the order but Jess never cared much for being bossed around. Nor did she want him left down here by himself while they pulled her out.

  “No, Cort. My rescue, my way.” She smirked a little inside her mask, knowing Cort couldn’t see.

  But he could hear it in her voice and he swore softly. “Still as stubborn as always, I see. Did you get the chocolates I sent?”

  “Got them. Ate them. I suppose I should thank you but my hips are cursing you even as we speak.”

  “Ropes are on the way,” Kyle crackled over her radio, and Jess grabbed them as soon as she could reach them.

  “Okay Cort. Let’s tie you up.” A glint of humor twinkled in her eye, and she wasn’t sure but she thought she saw one of his eyebrows raise in mock shock.

  “Mmm, I like the sound of that.” His fingers deftly tied the rope into his harness on one side as Jess tied the other.

  “You next, Jess.”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “It’s not up for debate.” A danger flashed in his eyes that warned it wasn’t negotiable.

  An earsplitting crack above their heads had Jess’s head snappin
g up to look at the ceiling above as it groaned like an old arthritic dog, and then it began to bow downward.

  Directly over Cort’s head.

  Without thinking, she plowed her right shoulder into him like a seasoned linebacker, shoving as hard as she could.

  Time slowed almost to a halt as she saw Cort flounder backwards and lose his balance, his hands grabbing air, surprise swimming into his brown eyes, and then fear as he watched the ceiling come down where he had been standing.

  Where Jessica stood now.

  He’d seen it in her eyes, shining unmistakably and unapologetically with the love that still burned like a wildfire for him. He watched, helpless as she crumpled like a rag doll, and the weight and shock of the debris undermined what was left of the floor’s structural integrity. A hole opened up to the burning floor below, taking the ceiling debris with it. Taking Jessica with it.

  Jess was gone.

  Chapter Five

  Cort stared at the gaping hole, a quick flash of horror transforming his face, screaming, “Jess! Jess!” His heart jumped into his throat and he scrambled to his feet, knowing his own safety on what was left of the hallway floor was in dire jeopardy. “No, no, no.” She couldn’t be gone. He couldn’t live without her.

  The air was thick with heat from below as he got on his hands and knees, inching forward to the gaping hole, but his rope was tangling him up.

  His rope. Jess’s rope! He keyed his radio, voice full of urgency. “Pull Jess out. Pull Jess out. She fell!” Then in a cry of desperation he yelled it out, hoping the guys up top could hear. “Pull Jessica out!”

  He could barely see her through the smoke that smothered his vision, could barely see his own hands, but there she was, dangling, tied to her own rope and harness. Her body was limp, her head and neck lolled, unconscious and hopefully not broken. At least the debris had fallen on down and he didn’t need to dig her out.