Where There's Smoke: A Texas Heat Novel

Home > Other > Where There's Smoke: A Texas Heat Novel > Page 1
Where There's Smoke: A Texas Heat Novel Page 1

by Octavia McKenzie




  Where There’s Smoke

  A Texas Heat Novel

  By Octavia McKenzie

  Kindle & Print Edition

  Publisher: Jane Austen & Company

  Copyright 2015, Octavia McKenzie

  Books by Octavia McKenzie

  All Jane Austen’s Men Series

  All Jane Austen’s Men, Mr. Darcy’s Journal, Poems & Love Letters

  All Jane Austen’s Men, Mr. Knightley & Captain Wentworth’s Journal, Poems & Love Letters

  All Jane Austen’s Men, The Journal, Poems & Love Letters of Mr. Darcy, Mr. Knightley & All

  Texas Heat Novels

  Blaze

  Slow Burn

  Dear Reader,

  It’s a privilege and a joy to write for you!

  I love connecting with my readers!

  Like me on Facebook & share – Octavia McKenzie, Author

  Twitter - @octaviawrites1

  Instagram - @octaviawrites1

  Email – [email protected]

  This book is dedicated to my teachers, the special ones I’ll never forget, you were amazing, I love you all!

  5th Grade Mr. Kurs, PS 143 Corona, Queens, NY

  6th Grade Mrs. Perez, IS 227, Queens, NY

  9th Grade Mrs. Fishback, Plantation High School, Plantation, FL

  Table of contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 1

  The City of Sin was no place for a pastor and yet Rowan Camden felt right at home. He was comfortable talking to the homeless, prostitutes, the mentally ill, street performers, dancers and tourists who roamed the Vegas Strip. He could totally relate to the outcast, the down trodden and misunderstood.

  Even though he wore a baseball cap, tee shirt and jeans, a few tourists recognized him from his television ministry. He shook hands, held babies, took selfies and prayed with them under the hot neon lights.

  A few women flirted with him. Some had no shame. At home, back in Aberdeen by the Lake, several women were getting bolder. One showed up at his house at midnight requesting private counseling. He didn’t bother opening the door, just sent her on her merry way. Another sent him cards, flowers and her underwear by mail. His secretary, Bertha fielded call after call from single women offering him everything from a lunch date to graphic sexual invitations. The brazen flirtations were shocking and increased with alarming frequency.

  Rowan had to do something. Without ego, he knew part of the problem was his physical appearance. His wife used to call him, delicious divine. At 6’3 of solid muscle, Rowan had a magnetic presence, a sensual pull that women responded to on a primitive level. He looked like a wild Scottish Highlander sent to pillage and vanquish. His blazing red gold hair, smoldering green eyes and chiseled face caused a literal stampede of women in church every Sunday.

  He was regularly approached by modeling agencies and asked to pose for magazine covers – he declined. He already had a calling that he loved. As Rowan strolled down the Vegas Strip, he glanced at M&Ms World and did a double take.

  Sawyer Landon wore a crazy giant M&Ms hat and made silly faces at a little girl. The child clapped her pudgy hands and giggled. Sawyer’s answering smile made him feel as if the sun shined on his face.

  Ever since she rescued him back in elementary school, he had a soft spot for that girl. Sawyer and Rowan became the best of friends. She spotted him and waved like a wild woman. He grinned. Rowan made a head motion for her to come. She made another goofy face to the child before dashing out.

  “Hey girl,” he said as she walked towards him.

  Sawyer waved a bag of candy in his face. “Birthday Cake M&Ms, my life is now complete.”

  He playfully nudged her in the arm. She poked him in the ribs.

  “Ow, Lord your elbows are sharp.”

  She popped an M&M in her mouth and moaned. The sensual sound made his stomach flutter and clench. Strange. He frowned and cleared his throat.

  “How’s my favorite librarian?”

  “In chocolate heaven.”

  They walked side by side. Cars, limos and tourist buses cruised by. Majestic hotels and designer stores lined both sides of the strip.

  “I gotta go easy though, my ass is growing as we speak.”

  One of the things Rowan loved about her, she treated him like a man, not a pastor. So many friends walked on egg shells around him, picking their words carefully, afraid to offend. Not Sawyer! She let him have it with both barrels, cuss words and all, without batting an eyelash.

  His lips twitched. “As that poet Sir Mix a Lott said, ‘I like big butts and I cannot lie.”

  Sawyer had a booming laugh that many thought too loud and brash. He found it endearing. “Seriously, I have way too much junk in my trunk.”

  “Let me see.” Rowan turned her around in the middle of the side walk. Her ass was round and plump. His body inwardly growled. “Nice,” he said, appalled by his own reaction.

  Sawyer spun around. “You should try stuffing it in a pair of jeans.”

  Rowan laughed. “How was your flight?”

  “As near death experiences go, not so great.”

  Rowan grinned. “Turbulence feels scarier than it is. So it was a little bumpy.”

  “At thirty thousand feet.”

  “You’ll live, Cricket.”

  Sawyer felt a thrill every time he called her that. She gave him a sideways glance. Nobody would guess looking at him now that Rowan Camden was a scrawny, pimpled faced nerd back in elementary and middle school. The Greek god beside her was all too human. Sawyer felt an odd burst of pride when women openly drooled as they walked by. She also felt protective of him too. He’s a pastor ladies, back the hell off!

  “Are you staying at The Bellagio?” he asked.

  “Yep.”

  That’s where the wedding of their friends, Donavan McClain and Harper Grant would take place tomorrow.

  “I never thought I would see the day.”

  Sawyer turned to him. “You didn’t know?”

  “Nope, never suspected, they were always at each other’s throats.”

  “You know what they say, there’s a thin line between love and hate. Isn’t that a Bible verse?”

  Rowan threw back his head and laughed. “Ah no. The scriptures say love is a holy fire that burns.”

  Sawyer felt her breath catch. Rowan held her gaze just a second too long. He looked away, frowning. Just then, a woman in a blouse cut to her navel and a mini skirt with stripper heels, squealed when she saw Rowan. “Oh my gad! I’ve seen you on TV, you’re so hot.”

  Sawyer stepped between the woman and Rowan. “Really? Go put some clothes on and take a cold shower, he’s a pastor for God’s sake!”

  The stranger undressed Rowan with her eyes. “Here’s my hotel room key, if you wanna-”

  “I will pop your fake tits with my hair pin if you don’t go away now,” Sawyer said.

  The woman quailed under Sawyer’s – I’ll kill you – glare. She scurried away.

  Rowan and Sawyer linked arms. His shoulders shook with mirth. “Pop her fake tits?”

  “Yep, right through the plastic nipples.”
>
  He roared with laughter. “Cricket, I wish I had you with me 24/7.”

  “I’ll be your pit-bull for the rest of the day, where we going?”

  “To The Zombie Palace.”

  “Aw cool.”

  Chapter 2

  Rowan’s family owned thirty-eight themed hotels worldwide, including The Walking Dead inspired Zombie Palace on the Las Vegas Strip. Guests paid to get the crap scared out of them. Actors in gruesome bloody makeup, roamed the halls and chased guests at random.

  The lobby was lined with giant posters of every Zombie movie ever made. The manager, a woman in her sixties, blushed and preened in response to Rowan’s polite greeting. Sawyer was fascinated by the power Rowan had over females from age 6 months to 100. Sawyer never stopped to examine why she was immune to him. She supposed their close friendship forbid anything more. Besides, she didn’t look at Rowan that way. Women salivated over him like vultures on a slab of meat. He was so much more than a pretty face and great body.

  Sawyer loved his logical mind, his deep intellect and their philosophical debates. They could talk for hours about anything and everything. She lusted after his brain more than anything else. Her parents taught her to look way beyond the superficial. That being said, it was difficult not to acknowledge his masculine beauty.

  Her mind shied away from that. Why jeopardize the best friendship she ever had? Sawyer and Rowan got chased to the elevator by a groaning, shuffling fat zombie. When the doors closed they collapsed against the wall with laughter.

  “Do you believe they’re sold out most of the year?” Rowan asked. His eyes were every shade of green imaginable. A woman could get happily lost in those eyes. Sawyer smiled up at him, way up. Man, he’s so deliciously tall.

  “The slime dripping from the fake black teeth is a stroke of genius.”

  “You like that? Wait until you see the limbs that fall off. My mother planned every gory detail.”

  The elevator doors opened to the penthouse. The executive wing was located on the twentieth floor. The opulent suites had stunning views of the mountains, the strip and the planes that soared and landed at the airport.

  “Wow,” Sawyer said.

  Deena Camden rushed out of her office, across the plush carpet and hurled herself in her son’s arms.

  “Bubba!” she said.

  Sawyer bit her lip. He glared at her. “Call me Bubba and it’s the last thing you’ll ever say.”

  Sawyer smirked. Deena kissed his rugged cheek. “Oh sweetheart it’s so good to see you. How’s the God business?”

  “Awesome.”

  Deena raised a single sculptured eyebrow. She looked well preserved, slim, graceful and sophisticated. She wore a designer power suit and designer heels.

  “Sawyer!” she hugged her warmly. “How are you darling?”

  “Doing good.”

  “How is your father feeling?”

  “He’s responding well to treatment, thanks.”

  The entire town of Aberdeen by the Lake rallied behind The Landons when her dad was diagnosed with an aggressive form of Leukemia. “I’m so glad to hear it, please give him my regards.”

  “I will.”

  Deena ushered them into her majestic suite of Persian rugs, crown molding, antique desk and butter leather chairs.

  “Isn’t the view splendid?” she said.

  “Indeed,” Rowan said.

  “Your sister’s in London at The Jane Austen and your brother is in St. Lucia at Pirate’s Cove.” There was a slight edge to her voice. Deena was a woman used to getting her own way. She ran a multi-billion dollar empire and she fully expected her eldest son to take his rightful place at the helm. Years ago, Rowan used to run several of the family hotels in New York. After a personal tragedy, he walked away from it all to go to seminary. His career move sent shockwaves through his family and the hospitality industry. Sawyer was proud of everything he accomplished on his own and the thousands he helped on a daily basis with his ministry.

  “I saw your broadcast last week,” Deena said casually.

  “I’m glad you tuned in,” Rowan said.

  The matriarch shrugged indifferently. “So,” she said, “What brings you to Sin City? Not exactly your forte.” She just had to get that dig in.

  Sawyer leaped to his defense, as always. “You remember Donavan McClain and Harper Grant?”

  “Yes of course.”

  “They’re getting married tomorrow and Rowan is conducting the ceremony.”

  “How quaint.”

  Sawyer had just about enough of her biting sarcasm. “He’s amazing at what he does. Do you know he feeds thousands of homeless and he’s built orphanages-”

  “Cricket,” Rowan said, torn between gratitude and exasperation. “I’m a big boy, I can handle my mother, okay?”

  “Fine,” Sawyer grumbled. She gave Deena a dirty look.

  Deena’s lips twitched. She leaned on the edge of her desk and crossed her arms.

  “You’re quite the guardian angel,” she said. Her green eyes took on a speculative gleam. She looked at her son.

  “Your secretary says you’re having problems with stalkers.”

  “What?!” Sawyer glared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I knew you’d go into full battle mode.”

  “I understand the women are becoming quite persistent,” his mother threw gas on the fire.

  Rowan raked a hand through his ginger hair. That was an understatement.

  “You see Sawyer, there are groupies-”

  “Mother-”

  “Groupies?” Sawyer said, her mouth agape.

  “Indeed, they target prominent athletes, politicians, celebrities, men of influence, now that my son pastors one of the top ten largest congregations in the country he’s a target.”

  “It’s not as bad-” Rowan tried to tone it down.

  “They send him underwear, naked pictures, all with the goal of toppling a pastor and getting their fifteen minutes of fame.”

  Sawyer looked at him with wounded eyes.

  “Hey,” he said. He cupped her chin gently. “Look at me.”

  “No.”

  “Sawyer-”

  “I’m pissed off at you right now.”

  “With everything going on with your dad, I didn’t want to upset you.”

  “You’re only human, all it takes is a moment of weakness and bam – you’re accidently inside some skank’s vagina.”

  Rowan fought a surge of tenderness. Deena’s shrewd eyes darted between the two of them.

  “I won’t break my vow to God,” he said.

  “The church board is also pressuring him to remarry did he tell you that?”

  Rowan glared at his mother. “You’re not helping.”

  “What can I do?” Sawyer asked. He stroked her rosy cheek. “Nothing, Cricket.”

  “Oh that’s not exactly true,” Deena said smoothly. “I have a solution.”

  Rowan flashed his mother a warning look. Sawyer soothed his arm. It was the kind of gesture couples did, without conscious thought, after years of marriage.

  Deena watched them together, fascinated. “You need time to decide who and what you want,” Deena said to her son, “And you my dear,” she addressed Sawyer, “The best way to attract a man is to capture the interest of another.”

  Rowan and Sawyer gaped at her. They spoke at the same time.

  “Are you saying-”

  “You’re not suggesting we-”

  “Pretend to date, yes,” Deena said.

  “I can’t date my best friend,” Rowan burst out, “She’s like a sister to me.”

  Sawyer flinched. Deena noticed and went in for the kill. “My point exactly, Sawyer is the only woman on the planet immune to your charm, she’s oblivious to your good looks, you couldn’t seduce her if you tried.”

  That irritated Rowan. Was Sawyer really immune to him?

  “You can
trust her as your loyal beloved friend. The church board would back off, your female admirers will realize you’re taken and most will cease and desist.”

  The possibility of the pressure being lifted from his shoulders, even temporarily would be a welcome relief.

  “No one will believe it,” Sawyer said.

  Deena and Rowan raised identical eyebrows.

  “Look at me,” she blurted out, “My hair’s a frizz ball, my face is average, and don’t even get me started on my ass-”

  “Sawyer Elizabeth Landon,” Rowan said sharply, “Stop putting yourself down.”

  “Rowan, I’m being realistic. I’m a frumpy librarian from a small southern town. I’m like a rusty Ford pickup and you’re a hot, sexy Jaguar convertible.”

  Rowan’s heart flipped over in his chest. She thinks I’m hot and sexy?

  “Oh nothing a little make over won’t cure,” Deena said. She made a show of studying her perfect manicure.

  “No,” Rowan said, “I like Sawyer just the way she is, she doesn’t need a makeover.”

  “Ah, yeah I do,” Sawyer muttered.

  “Nothing drastic, just a few tweaks here and there, so what do you say?” Deena said, “You’ll have to be rather convincing, I suspect in the beginning you’ll be under a lot of scrutiny as a couple, but if you can fool the good folks of Aberdeen, you’ll be home free.”

  “I don’t know, it feels deceitful,” Rowan said uneasily. “What if some nice guy wants to ask Sawyer out but he doesn’t because I’m in the way?”

  “Prince Charming got lost on the way to my house years ago,” Sawyer said. “No worries there.”

  Rowan frowned. “Mom, can you give us a minute alone please?”

  Deena sailed through the door as if her work for the day was done.

  Chapter 3

  Rowan’s mesmerizing green eyes were troubled. “Sawyer, you don’t have to do this, I get a lot of criticism, nasty articles and social media posts about everything from my clothes to word by word analysis of what I say every Sunday, it doesn’t phase me. But I don’t want you exposed to hurtful comments.”

  “I’m tough remember?”

  “Yeah but you’re my girl,” he said softly, “I don’t even know how to pretend we’re something more. Not because I don’t think you’re attractive, it’s just that we’ve been friends for so long, I don’t want to ruin us.”

 

‹ Prev