Dallas Fire & Rescue: Lighting His Fire (Kindle Worlds Novella) (MacKay Destiny Book 5)

by L. J. Garland

  “No, you’re right on time,” Brigit agreed with a hint of sarcasm. “We were just discussing my love life. But Kat’s already shared all the details, haven’t you, Kat?”

  The waitress arrived, set an empty glass in front of Jessica, filled it with wine, then left.

  Kat and Jess shared a look, and then the truth bonked Brigit upside the head. No. Surely not. But knowing Kat…. “Wait, is this little impromptu luncheon because of that conversation?”

  “You have been moping about for the last week.” Her sister had the decency to look ashamed.

  She should, the traitor.

  Brigit gulped her wine, attempting to drown the pain searing her heart. “I’ve been working.” She turned toward Jessica, and the room kept moving. She clutched her glass still half-full of the wonderful liquid that had made her head a little swimmy—which was fine. Anything to make her forget about what’s-his-name. “Carter. You do know him, right?”

  “I do.”

  “Sooooo.” She leaned on the table to steady herself. “How?”

  “He worked for me in Tampa.”

  “Tampa. Did he go?”

  Jess frowned. “Do you mean, did he go back to Tampa?”

  “Yep. Exactly.” She took another deep drink then set her glass on the table.

  “No. Not yet.”

  Brigit pointed at her. “Does Aiden know he’s here because of you?” She shook her finger at her. “Bad girl. Aiden won’t like that one bit. Carter hitting on you. It’s like, like…the same thing Randall did with me.”

  “Carter is just a friend who freelances for me, and who is Randall?” Jess looked to Kat.

  “Randall hit on you?” Shock and disgust flowed through her sister’s voice.

  Damn, did I say that out loud? Oh well, cat’s out of the bag. Might as well roll with it. “Mmhmm.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Back at the station. Wanted me to have a drink with him. But I’d rather be here.” She pointed at Jessica. “You, though. Not so sure ’bout.”

  Kat signaled the waitress. “Can we get a basket of bread, please?” When the woman departed, Kat faced Brigit. “You need to stop right there before you say something you’ll regret. Jess and Aiden are fine. Dante and I are fine. Randall is a jerk for hitting on you after just getting engaged. We’re here, dear sister, because of you and Carter.”

  “Carter’s an ass.” But he was supposed to be my ass. She sipped her wine and giggled, sending some of the wine down her windpipe. She coughed. “My ass.”

  The waitress set a basket of bread along with three small plates in the center of the table. “More wine?”

  “Oh yes!” Brigit sang. “Please!”

  Jess looked at Kat as though she needed help or something. Why? She had Aiden. She had Carter. Even Aiden’s cat, Ptomaine, had taken up with her. Not to mention Kat’s kitten, Sparky, who wouldn’t look at Brigit twice but had loved Jess at first sight. Little furball crawled right into her lap and had a two-hour purr-fest! The woman had everything. What else could she need?

  The waitress nodded and hurried off again.

  Kat leaned toward Jess—the woman all men apparently fell for. Scratch that. All men except Dante. He’s over-the-moon with Kat. True blue, that one. Sissy has always had good taste. Not like me, who jumps in bed with a guy I rescued and then spends every minute of the next week at his cabin.

  Kat cleared her throat.

  “Oh God. Did I just say that out loud, too?”

  Her sister blinked at her. “Say what?”

  “Nothing.” She grabbed her wine glass and emptied it. Whew. That was close.

  “I don’t know how much she’ll remember,” Kat said as topped off Jessica’s glass, “but you need to tell her what you told me when I mentioned Carter’s name.”

  Brigit snatched a breadstick. “I still can’t believe you talked about my love life with her.”

  “If you’d shut up for a moment, you’d understand.”

  “Fine.” She twirled the breadstick like a magic wand toward the blonde. “Enlighten me.”

  Jess took a breadstick as well. “So you know I moved my private investigation company from Tampa to here.”

  “Old news, sister. Keep talkin’.”

  “Carter worked for me in Tampa.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  Jess set the bread on her plate. “He’s really good at what he does.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Stop with the sarcasm, Brij,” Kat snapped.

  Brigit sulked. “Fine. Continue.”

  “So after I got set up in Sacramento, I got a call. I can’t give you all the details because it wouldn’t be ethical, but it was a job that required skills I don’t have. So I called Carter.”

  Why did it hurt even to hear his name? She bit her breadstick and chewed. “Acquisitions.”

  “Yes.”

  She snapped off another bite. “So if you can’t give me details, what can you tell me?”

  “That he’s a good guy. Before I hired him, I did a deep background check. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, only that Kat said you were seeing a named Carter. I wasn’t 100 percent sure it was him until I asked him and he got all growly.”

  Brigit swallowed. “What did he say?”

  “Not much, really. But that’s Carter. He keeps things to himself.” She sipped her wine. “I can tell you his life before I hired him was a bit…bumpy.”

  “Bumpy how? A long line of women in his past?”

  “That’s not my story to tell.” She tilted her head, her sharp eyes scrutinizing her. “I can tell you I’ve seen him with other women from time to time, but nothing serious. He’s a bit of a loner, I guess.”

  Brigit snorted. “Yeah, he made that clear up front.” Gone, baby, gone. Back to Tampa as soon as this job is done.

  “All I’m saying is I’ve known him for quite a few years. He’s a good guy. You should give him a chance.”

  “I’ll take that under advisement.” Brigit pushed back from the table. “Gotta go to the little girls’ room.”

  She went to the bathroom, and, after taking care of business, she washed her hands then pulled out her cell. Give him a chance. Yeah, we’ll see about that.

  Aquarius: Your friends are inconsistent today, encouraging you one minute and then criticizing you the next. Don’t be confused by their mixed messages. As of late, you’ve instinctually thrown yourself into a rut, but Aries aligning with Venus tries to toss your life into chaos and, though you’re ready to shake things up, expressing your feelings is a bit risky at this point. Your head is urging you to stand up and demand answers, and while taking this path will pay off in the long run, you need to be ready to deal with the other person’s answers. As the sun sets on your day, remember the words Deepak Chopra wrote, “All great changes are preceded by chaos.”

  Chaos. Yeah, that about sums it up. After making a quick call, she tucked her phone into her pocket and returned to the table where Kat and Jess waited for her.

  “Okay, so great talk. Thanks for your advice. I think I had a little too much wine, so I’m going to head out.” When Kat opened her mouth to protest, Brigit held up her hand. “I’ve called Uber. You two should stay and enjoy lunch.”

  “Brij.” Her sister looked up at her, uncertainty flooding her features.

  She bent and kissed her cheek. “No worries, Kat. All is well in the universe.” Turning, she pecked Jess on the cheek, too. “We’re good. Thanks for what you could tell me. And keep my brother happy.”

  Not allowing them a chance to protest her departure, she walked away, giving a quick wave over her shoulder as she headed out the door.

  All great things are preceded by chaos indeed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Don’t think about her, damn it. After spending another unproductive stakeout camped in the bushes, watching the comings and goings at Randall Winters’ mini-mansion, he needed to stretch his legs. Not to mention, do something to get rid of the hard-on he�
�d sported for over four hours—courtesy of his personal stash of Brigit MacKay movies permanently stored in his brain. So damn sexy and smart and independent. She didn’t need anyone. But since they’d been apart for the last ten days, it’d become painfully clear his heart needed her. Fuck!

  He pulled the Harley up to the cabin and tromped inside, changing into sweats and sneakers. Taking off on a trail that paralleled the Bravo River for a couple of miles, he used each step to try to keep himself focused on the job so he could head home to Tampa. He’d followed Victoria Florentino, Randall Winters’ fiancée, hoping for the opportunity to bump into her and divest her of the cameo necklace Randall had presented her at the party. But by day four, when she’d left her home, wearing other pieces of jewelry, it became clear ole Randall hadn’t let her keep it. Probably won’t let her wear it again until she says “I do,” and maybe not even then. Even though he made a big show about giving it to her as an engagement present, he’d find some excuse to keep it for her. He stole that necklace. To him, it’s a prize. No doubt he’s got it tucked away somewhere safe.

  Carter followed the trail as it veered away from the river to slope up along the ridge near the highway—and Randall’s house. One foot in front of the other. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck. His heart thumpa-thumped in time with his breath.

  Over the last five days, he’d followed Randall Winters, learned his routines, places he frequented, and gathered general information that might help in the necklace recovery. He’d also spent different times observing the guy’s home. People who came and went, when, and which days. Between the gardener, housekeeper, cook, and Randall himself, someone is always there. Not to mention the new guy—who looks like he might’ve played football at some point—walking the property perimeter. Makes slipping inside a second time to find the necklace damn near impossible. I barely escaped the first time, and if Brigit hadn’t seen me lying off the side of the road—

  Damn it! Stop thinking about her. The trail dipped down into a meadow, and he picked up the pace.

  Running from something, Carter?

  No.

  Yes.

  Fuck, I don’t know.

  Sweat coated his skin while the cool air burned his lungs. He followed the trail as it coasted along behind the Black Bear Lodge. A few minutes later, he jogged past his Harley and stopped on the cabin porch while he unlocked the door. As he strode inside, a flowery scent filled his nostrils.

  Brigit. The subtle fragrance swirled around him, and he breathed deep. For a moment, he half-expected her to exit the bedroom and greet him. The memory of her shoulder-length dark hair filled his mind. The softness of the strands as he wrapped them around his fingers and gave a sharp tug. Desire flooding her bright-blue eyes as he pounded into her.

  Go to her, his mind whispered.

  His body agreed, his shaft hardening, pressing against his sweats.

  No. I can’t take that chance again. He strode to the bedroom where he stripped then stepped into the shower, letting the lukewarm water pour over him.

  He replayed the night of the party for the millionth time. After she’d discovered him in old man Winter’s home office the safe right there. After she’d put all the pieces together in her head—at least the pieces she knew about. God she’d been pissed, lifting her chin in defiance as she told him off. The kiss. And then she’d walked away, her high heels making her lush hips sway in a way that had his groin aching. He’d wanted to chase her down, throw her over his shoulder, and take her back to his cabin where he’d fuck her until neither of them could think straight. But, instead, she left him, hopping into her Jeep and driving away.

  The memory tore at him. He shut off the water then grabbed a towel. It’s better that she’s pissed at me. At least then only one heart will break.

  He pulled on a clean pair of sweats then scrubbed the towel over his head.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Who could that be? He padded out of the bedroom.

  Bam! Bam! Bam!

  “Hold your damn horses.” He yanked the door open, and his heart stuttered.

  “’Bout damn time.” Brigit stared up at him, her normally sharp-blue eyes a little glassy.

  He stepped back, and she waltzed inside—well, more like tottered—her arms waving about with a beer bottle in each hand.

  He closed the door. “One of those for me?”

  “No.” She brandished a bottle in his direction. “They’re both for me.” She leaned toward him a bit too far, lost her balance, and toppled forward.

  Reaching out, he caught her, silky skin skimming over his. Helping her regain her balance, he pulled her to him, her soft breasts pressing against his bare chest. Her gaze met his, and, for a fraction of a second, he imagined himself kissing her, tasting her lips, exploring the sweetness of her mouth. Heat shot to his groin.

  “No.” She lifted her chin, fire dancing in her eyes. “You, Carter Kohl, can just let go of me right this instant.” She backed up a step. “You and your strong arms and your hard chest and that sexy scruffy jaw of yours. That’s not why I came here.”

  Unable to stay away, he moved closer to her. “So why are you here, Brigit?”

  “Well, Carter, I was advised to give you a chance to tell your side of the story.” Her brow furrowed. “Not like you’ve been trying to. No banging down my door to talk to me. To explain anything. To demand a second chance.” She frowned then pivoted toward the door. “Maybe I was wrong.”

  He stepped in front of her, blocking her path, and she plowed into him again. Unable to stop himself, he wrapped his arms around her—and damn if she didn’t feel amazing. When it came to Brigit MacKay, he was in so much trouble.

  Her shoulders slumped, her body molding to his as she rubbed her cheek against his chest. Good Lord! Carter gritted his teeth, unsure of how much more he could endure before stripping her naked and burying himself deep inside her.

  “Why did you lie to me?” she whispered.

  “I never lied, darlin’.”

  She tilted her head back to look up at him. “You just never told me the whole truth.”

  His heart knocked against his ribs while his body reacted to her closeness. No way could he evade the truth. He’d fallen in love with her, the honest-to-goodness certainty of it vibrating all the way down to his marrow. Whether he’d meant to or not didn’t matter. It would never work—not for her, and certainly not for him.

  “I’ll tell you now, if you want. But first”—he took the beers from her hands—“I need to put these in the fridge. You need coffee.”

  She followed him to the kitchenette, so close behind him her heady flowery scent teased his senses. She gazed up at him, her crystal-blues boring into him, compelling him to tell her what she wanted to know. What she deserved to know. “So tell me.”

  He stowed the bottles and turned to her. “I was married.”

  Her eyes widened. “Okay.”

  “It wasn’t good.”

  ***

  Portland, Maine, 5 years ago….

  Two days. Carter sat on cheap couch in the crappy motel room he’d rented, holding a bowl of soggy cereal in one hand and legal documents in the other, while he watched snow fall outside. How did my life get so fucked up so fast?

  Two days ago, he’d gone to his job at James M. Volaran Art & Jewelry Insurance as usual. After a couple of errands at lunch, he headed home early on a Friday afternoon. He’d entered the house, an envelope in one hand and a dozen roses in the other.

  “Tina! I’m home!”

  Bumpa-thump.

  Carter tilted his head. The sound had come from their bedroom. Maybe she was getting out of the shower? He strode down the hallway and pushed open the door. “Tina?”

  Carter blinked. His mind stalled.

  Tina was naked. Bouncing up and down. On top of some guy. In their bed.

  Carter forced away the image, and, instead, stared out the window at the fat flakes covering a world he didn’t understand anymore. Tina, his wife, th
e woman he loved, had cheated on him. In their home. In their bed.

  Her shrill, nasally voice had followed him down the hall on his retreat. “I know you’ve been screwing around on me, Carter! I want a divorce!”

  Anger tore through him. Cheating on her? Hell, he’d worked his ass off to make her 25th birthday something special. He’d slapped the tickets to Maui on the entryway table and stormed out of the house before he beat the guy in his bedroom senseless and ended up in jail.

  Hopping into his car, he’d driven to a nearby bar where he sat for five hours, nursing two beers, giving the asshole fucking his wife time to clear out. Carter needed to talk to Tina, needed to understand what had happened and why.

  At last, he’d pulled into the driveway. The porchlight shone like a beacon, guiding him home to the life he’d worked so hard to create. Striding up the walkway, he went over the plan he’d made to win back the woman he’d given his heart to, the woman he’d promised to love and cherish until death did they part.

  The front door opened, and a different man—this one muscled up like a weight lifter—in an expensive suit stood on the threshold. “Carter Kohl?”

  He frowned. “Yeah.”

  The guy shoved an envelope into his hands. “You’ve been served.” He set a small suitcase on the porch then shut the door, the deadbolt slamming home.

  Carter stared at the envelope. Served? What the— He banged on the door. “Open the fuck up. I need to talk to Tina. Now!”

  The porch light went out.

  Now he sat in a ratty motel room, trying to figure out what happened. Sure, she’d been kind of distant and maybe a little snippy for the last couple of months, but he’d thought it was because he’d been in and out of town for work. He’s had no clue their relationship had devolved to this. How was he supposed to put the pieces of his marriage back together? Only one person could tell him how to do that. Tina.

  He set the cereal bowl on the coffee table. Grabbing his jacket and keys, he went to his car. The cold wind blew, but somehow, the numbness enveloping him shielded the effects.