by Lexi Ryan
“I didn’t mean to,” she says. “My thing with Nate was supposed to be a fling.” She rolls her glass in her hands then looks up at me. “Why don’t you give yourself permission to have a fling and see what happens?”
“Because he’s dating your sister-in-law.”
“Max and Janelle?”
I nod but don’t look at her. I don’t need to look to know there’s pity on her face. I can’t compete with Janelle. And, hey, maybe that’s good. Maybe I dodged a bullet.
No. I didn’t dodge anything. I kept my heart for myself so love couldn’t hurt me, and tonight I realized that was like putting distance between me and the man holding the sniper rifle.
We sit in silence, staring at the storm clouds, and I wrap my hands around my beer when they really want to go to my lonely, aching heart.
Six
Nix
He’s found me.
“Holy shit, Nix!” Krystal screeches from the driver’s seat, and jerks the car to a stop. “What is that?”
“Fire,” I murmur. Fire in my front yard. Fire where there should be none. The fire always finds me.
She parks the car by the sidewalk instead of pulling into the drive and hops out. We spent the night at Brady’s, helping Liz pin down the final details for her wedding. A night of laughter, friends, and fun ruined by fire.
The flames dance in the moonless night and cast ghoulish shadows on the front of my house. I force myself to get out.
It’s nothing. It’s nothing. Just some kids screwing around in your yard.
“Dr. Reid?” a deep voice calls from across the street. “Are you okay?”
“Does she seem okay?” Krystal asks sharply. “Her yard is on fire! Get one of those fire trucks over here!”
I faintly register the sounds of footfalls coming closer.
“Did you start it?” the man asks. I hear the frown in his voice, but I don’t look to his face to see it.
I can’t take my eyes off it. I’m mesmerized by its return to my world. It’s like I’m gazing into the eyes of the man who tried to kill me.
“Of course she didn’t start it,” Krystal says. “We’ve been out all night. How could she have set the fire? And why?”
I shake my head, and I’m only faintly aware of the man’s movements, the squeak of the hose spigot as it turns on. I’m entranced by the fire until the flames are dosed with water, and then there’s nothing left but smoke and piles of charred twigs.
“What’s going on?” Max’s voice is the one that snaps me from the spell. He’s standing by the sidewalk, frowning at the shape burned into the ground.
“Nix’s lawn was on fire,” Krystal says. “The fire department is right across the street and they didn’t even notice.”
“It was the size of a campfire,” the firefighter says, winding up my hose. “I assumed she was roasting marshmallows or something out here.”
A shiver crawls up my spine and sends icy prickles shooting through my limbs.
“Who builds a campfire in her front yard? Isn’t that against the law in city limits?”
“Step off, okay?” the man says. “No one was hurt.”
Finally, I turn to the stranger in my yard. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and sexy as hell. New Hope is the Mecca for sexy men, apparently. I probably wouldn’t notice in my shock, but I’ve seen him out washing the fire trucks before.
“That’s no campfire,” Max says, stepping closer. “What’s that supposed to be?” He points to the charred sticks, like a triangle with one side that extends beyond both corners. “Is that supposed to be an ax?”
“Thurisaz.” The word springs from my lips as if shoved from a high ledge, as if it could no longer fit into the chaos in my mind.
“Thor is what?” Krystal says.
Max says, “Who the fuck builds a fire on someone’s lawn? Is that some kind of threat? I’m calling the police.”
“Yes,” Krystal says. “Please call the police. This is freaky.”
I feel as if I’m drowning in memory and need to kick my way to the surface for air—the rune stone cool in my palm, Patrick’s voice in my ear. “Best not to start a battle . . .”
“No police.” I shake my head. “That’s not necessary.”
The firefighter steps forward. “I have to file a report, ma’am. This is vandalism to your property at the very least.”
Ma’am. So strange to be addressed with such a mature word when I suddenly feel sixteen again.
Max is on the phone. Krystal and the firefighter are talking about something, but I can’t hear them over the voice in my head. It’s a voice from my past and one I hope to never hear again.
“Best not to start a battle, but if you do, you’d better finish it.”
* * *
Max
The asshole dispatch sent from the New Hope PD scratches down a few more notes for his report and nods, but it’s obvious he’s not going to do shit about this. I wish my friend Cade had been on duty. He would have taken my concerns seriously, but this kid punk didn’t think someone lighting a fire the size of a grown man was a big deal.
Nix is lost in her own head. She answered the officer’s questions, but barely.
“Is she okay?” I ask Krystal.
Nix sits down on the porch steps and stares into space. “I’m fine,” she says. Not that I believe that for a minute. “You guys go home. It’s no big deal.”
Krystal’s face draws into a frown and she looks at me. “I don’t want to leave her.”
I know she has to be at Hanna’s bakery early to open, so I wave her off. “I’ve got this. Go home.”
She takes a deep breath then exhales slowly. “Okay. But call me if she needs anything.”
“You’re rather optimistic if you think she’d let either one of us know that she needed something.”
“Good point,” Krystal mutters. She joins Nix on the porch steps and whispers something in her ear as she hugs her. Nix hugs her back and nods.
When Krystal pulls away, I take a seat beside Nix on the steps. She’s staring at the charred piles of sticks in her yard.
“What does it mean?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Probably nothing. It’s probably just kids screwing around.”
“Not the fire, Nix, the symbol. You said something when you first saw it. And, frankly, you looked like you’d seen a ghost.”
“I’m . . .” Nix clears her throat. “I’m afraid of fire.”
“A Phoenix who’s afraid of fire?”
“Rebirth hurts more than you’d imagine.” She lifts her eyes to mine, but her face is guarded. “I said something? What did I say?”
“Thor-something?”
She rubs her bare arms. “Oh, that. That’s nothing. I used to . . . I knew someone who liked runes. It kind of looked like one of those.”
“Kent?” I ask. It’s the only name I have from the past she doesn’t talk about, but when I say it, her face pales.
“What?”
“Was your boyfriend Kent the one who liked runes? You mentioned Kent a few months ago.”
“No,” she says carefully. “Kent was a doctor.”
As if that explains anything at all. Fuck, this is frustrating. “If I ask you a question, do you promise to answer truthfully?”
She just looks at me, and I know she’ll not make any such promise.
I sigh and ask anyway. “Do you think someone’s trying to hurt you?”
She shakes her head. “If they were trying to hurt me, why set the fire to my yard? Why not my house? And why when I’m not home?”
I suppose she has a point, but I still don’t like it. The thing is, if she hadn’t reacted the way she did, I’d probably think it was kids too. But the fire panicked her. I saw it in her face. “Would you stay at my place tonight?” I ask, and when her eyes go wide, I add, “In the guest bedroom. Just so I know you’re safe.”
“I’m safe.” She pushes to her feet and rolls back her shoulders, looking less like someone who feels co
mfortable alone in her house and more like someone preparing for a fight. “I have a security system that’s tied into the smoke detectors, so even if I did think this was something of concern, I wouldn’t be worried about sleeping under my own roof.”
“I’d feel better if you were sleeping under mine.” I can already tell this is an argument I’m going to lose, and I stand too.
“Good night, Max,” she says. “Thanks for worrying about me, but I’m going to be fine.”
You’re a terrible liar, I think, but I know she’s had a hard enough night, and I don’t know that either one of us is up for me calling her on her lies. “Good night, Nix.”
Seven
Max
“Sounds like high school kids,” Will says.
The river rushes beside us as we approach the final stretch of our run. I kick up the pace a few notches as downtown New Hope grows closer. “I don’t think so.”
“Remember all the times we’d steal beer from Sam’s parents’ fridge? We’d find a place to make a campfire and drink it while we tried to impress whatever girl was on our arm that week.” He smiles at the memory, but I shake my head because he’s missing the fucking point.
“If it were in her backyard, I might buy it, but this was in the middle of her front yard. And the sticks were laid in this weird shape that was nothing like a campfire.” Never mind this feeling in my gut that tells me there’s more to it.
“So what do you think it was?”
“I don’t know. But I have a feeling Nix knows more than she’s saying.” If only she’d let me in. Will looks skeptical as hell. “What’s that face for?”
“You’re so into her.”
“I’m not.”
“Do I need to remind you that you do this?”
“Do what?”
He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm, and we turn off the river path and toward the sidewalk that leads to my health club. “Swoop in? Save the girl?”
“I don’t—” I stop running and stare straight ahead, and Will stops too.
“Speak of the devil,” he mutters.
Half a block ahead of us, Nix is passing Will’s art gallery and headed our way. She’s dressed for the office in her typical slacks and button-up shirt, and she’s looking at us, but I have a feeling she doesn’t see us. Her face is drawn, as if exhaustion hangs on every cell. My first thought is how much I’d like to take her home and tuck her into bed.
I don’t want to save her, not exactly. But damn, someone needs to watch after her.
“Good morning, Nix,” Will calls before I can find my tongue.
She shakes her head and blinks, as if registering our presence for the first time. “Hi.”
“How are you this morning?” I ask. “No more problems last night?”
“No, it was fine.” She frowns. “I’m sorry I didn’t want to stay with you. I just knew it wasn’t a big deal.”
At that, Will arches a brow. His expression says he can read me like a fucking book.
“Can I talk to you alone for a minute?” I ask Nix. Will doesn’t need any more ammunition than he already has.
Nix looks to Will and then back to me. “Me?”
“I could use your medical advice about something,” I lie.
“I told you to go to the clinic for that discharge, man,” Will says, barely choking back his laughter at his own joke. “One little shot will clear it right up.”
I punch him in the arm, and he stumbles sideways and rubs his bicep, but it doesn’t wipe the smirk off his face.
“Um, sure,” Nix says. She leads the way away from Will and into Hanna’s bakery.
I follow, and when the doors close behind us, she drags me to the corner. An older couple sits at a table on the opposite side of the bakery and a few women stand in line at the register. Thank goodness it’s not as crowded in here this morning as it usually is, but I’d still rather have this conversation in private.
“Should I be tested?” Nix asks in a whisper.
It takes a minute for her meaning to click, but when it does, I release a horrified laugh. “Nix, Will was razzing me. He’s just being a dick to be funny.” And to prove to me that I have a thing for you. She ducks her head, and I cock mine for a better view of her blush. “Seriously.”
“So, no discharge?”
“Fuck no. And if you’re thinking about discharge next time I get you alone, I swear Bailey’s going to pay for it.”
That wipes the blush right off her face. In fact, she’s gone damn near pale. “Next time you get me alone?”
Well, fuck. I’m making a mess of this already. I got one night with Nix. Hell, not even a full night. I got part of a night, and then Liz showed up and dissolved into tears because Sam was being a fucking idiot.
I got part of a night, and I thought it was pretty spectacular. And I’d thought she thought it was pretty spectacular too. For a minute, I’d thought maybe we could be spectacular together. Until she avoided me every day thereafter.
“Max, listen, I know we’ve never, um, we’ve never talked about it directly . . .” She surveys the counter, probably to make sure none of her friends are listening in on this conversation. Hanna’s not around—she’s probably in the back—and Krystal is busy with a customer. “I guess it’s time we do. That night was . . .” She shifts from one foot to the other and then drums her fingers on her thighs. The movement takes my eyes down to her long, long legs and reminds me, as if I needed a reminder, how much I want a chance at a full night with Dr. Phoenix Reid. The kind that starts with wine and good food and moves on to slow seduction and doesn’t end until we’re sipping coffee and warming the water for our morning shower.
William’s wrong. I don’t want to save her. I want something much more satisfying.
I shove my hands into my pockets. “Is there going to be a next time, Nix?”
She lifts her head and locks her eyes on mine. The morning light slants in the bakery windows, highlighting the sharp angles of her cheekbones and making her big eyes captivating.
Captivating. Fuck. A few nights ago, I was drinking wine in the moonlight with an honest-to-God Hollywood starlet, and I didn’t once think of her as captivating. What’s happening to me?
“Any chance we could forget that night ever happened?” she asks.
For a moment, I’m so tangled in my thoughts that I think she’s talking about my date with Janelle, then I realize she’s talking about our night together. “You want to forget the night at your house happened?”
She nods. “Yes.”
“You mean, so we can hang out together without me imagining your legs wrapped around my waist?”
Her lips part. Hot. Then she licks them. Hotter. “Yeah,” she whispers, her voice catching. “Something like that.”
“I’d rather not forget it, if it’s all the same to you.” I step forward—close enough that I could kiss her, though I won’t. Close enough that I could bury my nose in her hair and take a hit off her scent, but I won’t. I love the way she smells. She uses this soap that smells like crisp linens. Not sweet or flowery, just clean. “As memories go, it’s a favorite of mine.”
Her eyes widen. “It is?”
And there it is, that contradictory bit of her. On the one hand, sometimes she seems more mature than the rest of us and unfazed by the petty bullshit we let rule so much of our lives. She’s confident in who she is and what she’s about. On the other hand, any time I’ve given her a compliment on anything other than her skills as a doctor, it takes her by surprise.
I drop my gaze to her lips. “Yeah. It is.”
She backs up a few steps and her body tenses.
“Are you all right?” I ask. “For a few months now, it’s seemed like you’ve been on edge. I’ve been worried about you.”
* * *
Nix
He’s been worried about me. That explains so much. “You don’t need to date me just to take care of me. I can take care of myself.”
He lau
ghs. Actually laughs. I don’t see anything funny about any of this.
“Huh.” He rocks back on his heels and crosses his arms over his sweaty T-shirt. You’d think such a motion would assist me in taking my eyes off his broad chest. Instead, it makes the muscles in his arms bulge, and it’s as if a magnetic force is drawing my eyes to him.
Dear God. After Patrick, didn’t I swear I’d never fall for a man this beautiful?
“I thought you were smarter than that,” he says, and that gets my attention.
“Uh . . . what?”
He cocks a brow. “I thought you were smarter than that.”
“Yeah, I heard the words the first time. Still don’t know what they’re supposed to mean. Just because a woman won’t sleep with you doesn’t mean she’s not smart.” I throw the words up like a shield, but when Max flinches I know they strike like a knife.
“Jesus, Nix.”
“I’m sorry.” It’s my turn to flinch. I suck at this. What does Lizzy say when something is difficult? It sucks hairy goat testicles. Pretty much. “I shouldn’t have said that. That was bitchy.”
“Yeah, it was.” He rocks back on his heels and rolls his shoulders.
“I am sorry. It’s just that I don’t need you pretending to like me just to lift my spirits.”
He studies me for five wild beats of my heart, his expression unreadable. “I’m mature enough to handle it when a woman isn’t interested. Don’t sweat it. But for the record, I don’t ask women out to lift their spirits. Did that once before, and it didn’t end well. I think I’ve learned my lesson.” When I only stare at him, completely unsure what that’s supposed to mean, he sighs, shakes his head, and backs toward the door. “Have a good day, Nix. Give me a call if someone tries to set any more of your shit on fire.”
“Good morning,” Krystal says when the door swings shut behind Max.
I turn to her and grimace. “How much of that did you hear?”
“Only the last bit about the fire, sadly. Did I miss anything good?”