Old Flame (Burning Hearts Book 1)

by Lolita Lane

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next day Sarah slept until nearly twelve. The noonday sun slipped through her sheer curtains and fell on her face, making it impossible to sleep. It was uncharacteristically warm for fall, and she awoke sweating and sticky. She stumbled groggily to the shower.

  The chirping of her phone called her back into the bedroom as she was drying off. Noticing Luke’s name, she quickly answered.

  “Hey, what’s up?” she answered.

  “Do you want to come over?” he asked. “It’s ok if you have plans, I’m just feeling really down and I could use some company.”

  “Yeah, sure, I’ll come. What’s your address?”

  She quickly punched it into her maps app and promised to be over in a few minutes. She dressed hurriedly and ran a brush through her damp hair. She cast a quick glance at her reflection and frowned at an errant gray hair, but she noted that she didn’t look so bad for approaching forty in a few years.

  She nearly missed the little driveway that led to his house. It was a winding dirt drive that twisted into a thick pine forest. She pulled up to the cozy little cabin and headed up the steps. He opened the door just before she knocked.

  “Howdy, stranger,” he said. “Come on in.”

  “This place is definitely you,” she commented.

  It was neat and tidy, decorated with a few pieces of furniture and numerous collectibles on shelves and table. He had a massive flat screen television and several game systems, plus a shelf of movies and video games.

  “Oh, this is definitely you,” she said.

  “Have a seat,” he told her. “Do you want something to drink? Dr. Pepper, maybe?”

  “You remembered,” she said, smiling with satisfaction that he’d remembered her favorite soda. She pulled off her coat and laid it and her purse neatly across the end of the couch. “I’ll take one.”

  He stepped into the kitchen and retrieved a Dr. Pepper for her and a beer for himself. He handed her the can and twisted the top off the brown glass bottle, tossing the cap into an empty ashtray on the table.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Sarah said. “I really wanted to ask you about Lacey. I know this is all really raw and painful for you right now, but… how exactly did you two meet? She isn’t exactly… well… she’s not your type.”

  “I know that,” he admitted. “Listen, I’m gonna be honest with you. I was never really in love with her.”

  “But you asked her to marry you,” Sarah pointed out.

  “No, I didn’t. She asked me. And I kind of… I felt cornered because she’d been there for me when I had no one. I felt obligated to say yes.”

  “That’s not like you at all!” Sarah said. “You never let anyone make you do something you don’t want to do.”

  “You don’t know what it’s been like. After you and I broke up… I didn’t date for several years. And when I did, it was nothing but a series of cheating, lying, manipulative bitches.”

  “Wow, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I’ve always had a hard time relating to people,” he said. “Or at least getting close to people. I don’t trust easily. That’s why Lacey was such a godsend. I trusted her. I thought I could trust her. I see how wrong I was.”

  “You were really going to marry her?”

  “I was. Because I never thought I’d find anyone else I could trust, and I didn’t want to be alone.”

  “And now you do?”

  “No, of course I don’t. But after all this… you understand why I can’t just jump back in, right? Not even with you.”

  “So you really didn’t love her at all?”

  “I cared for her. Part of me still does, I guess. But she and I are two very different people. We have nothing in common. I like the outdoors; she can’t stand dirt and bugs. I like roughing it on vacation, and her idea of a getaway involves hot tubs and marble bathrooms and caviar. I like country music and rock, and she likes all that teenybopper pop stuff. We literally couldn’t be more different.”

  “But you must have connected on some level.”

  “She was a warm body in a very dark time of my life. That’s all. I found her whiny, irritating, and boring.”

  “But you were going to marry her. You’d have been miserable!” Sarah pointed out.

  “What’s more miserable? Being married to someone you can’t stand, or being truly alone for the rest of your life?”

  “I guess neither one is a great option,” she admitted.

  “So I chose the one I thought I could live with easiest.”

  “I guess I did, too,” she admitted. “I always had this bad feeling about Eric. I could never quite put my finger on it. I realize now that a lot of it was that I still loved you. I’ve never been able to forget you. But there’s something else. I don’t know what it is, but something about him rubs me the wrong way.”

  “Temper?”

  “Oh, no! He’s never ben anything but nice and calm around me,” she answered. “But the fact is, I haven’t known him all that long, and I haven’t spent nearly as much time getting to know him as I should have before accepting his proposal.”

  “So why did you? Accept it, I mean.”

  “Same basic reason as you. I wanted to settle down, have that white picket fence. The same thing a lot of women want. I guess the old biological clock was ticking, and I felt I was running out of time.”

  “We’re always running out of time. That’s what life is all about. We have to make the most out of the time we’re given, because we never know when ours will run out. I see death every day at work. It puts things into perspective.”

  “Your job must be really tough. How do you do it?”

  “It’s a calling. You’re either born for it, or you’re not. I was. I can feel it in my bones. When I’m fighting a fire, or I pull someone out of a burning building, or I cut someone out of a car, it’s a rush like nothing you can imagine!”

  Luke shivered as the hairs on his arms stood at attention. He rubbed his arm and exhaled sharply, closing his eyes and imagining, Sarah guessed, the feeling of charging into a burning building knowing someone was inside or something similar.

  “I could never do it. I mean, I’ll face some pretty messed up stuff as a journalist, but… I just can’t deal with the kind of responsibility you do.”

  “That’s what I mean. You’re either born for it, or you’re not. I am.”

  He took a swig of beer and held it in his mouth, savoring it. Sarah’s eyes traveled around the room, noting all the firefighter memorabilia.

  “You’re really passionate about it, huh?” she asked.

  “You could say that. It’s all I’ve had for a long time.”

  “It’s dangerous, isn’t it? Collapsing roofs and all.”

  “Well, this was the first time I’ve been put in a coma. But yeah, it’s dangerous. But no more so than a lot of other professions.”

  “I just… I can’t imagine.”

  “You don’t want to. I’ve seen things that would destroy a weaker man.”

  “Like what?”

  “Things I’d rather not talk about. Things that would break your heart. How about a movie?

  Before she could answer, his phone rang. He looked at the screen and shrugged.

  “Unknown Caller,” he told her.

  A moment later, the phone signaled a voicemail message. He held the phone to his ear and listened, his face stolid for a while. Then she noticed his jaw clenching. He touched the screen and set the phone down slowly.

  “Are you ok?” Sarah asked.

  “That was Lacey,” he said.

  “What did she want?”

  “She was calling from jail and begging me to believe that she didn’t do what they’re accusing her of.”

  “Do you believe her?” Sarah asked.

  “No,” he answered simply. “So… movie?”

  “Don’t you want to…”

  “No, I don’t want to talk about it,” he interrupted. “Movie?”

>   She nodded, watching him intently as he searched through rows and rows of Blu-ray discs. He pulled one off the shelf and showed her the cover.

  “We watched that at my aunt’s house!” she gasped, remembering. “She caught us kissing on her couch and nearly had a heart attack!”

  “The look on her face was priceless! I thought she was going to kill me!” he laughed. “Remember how she got all serious and said, ‘Sarah, I’m going to have to inform your mother about this,’ and then she called her and told her you and I were going down the Devil’s path!”

  Sarah coughed and nearly spat Dr. Pepper through her nose. The two of them laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks.

  Sarah stood up to find a bathroom where she could dry her eyes, and as she passed by Luke, she tripped across his feet and stumbled. He caught her before she face planted, and pulled her into his lap, more accidentally than purposefully.

  Their eyes locked, and their smiles faded. Sarah’s lips parted almost imperceptibly, and neither moved a muscle. They were barely breathing. She noticed Luke’s eyes closing, and his face inched closer to hers. She tilted her head back slightly and closed her eyes. His breath was hot on her face. He hovered, his lips so close to hers she could feel the electricity between them. She remembered the familiar scent of his breath from so long ago, tainted, as it had always been before, with the sweet scent of alcohol.

  His nose nudged against hers. He brushed it up the bridge of her nose and then planted a delicate kiss on the tip of it. Tiny goose bumps erupted all over her skin, and she held her breath.

  Finally, his lips touched hers, gently at first and then more urgently. His tongue slipped between her lips, and she accepted it willingly. His arms pulled her in tightly against his body, and his kiss was deep and fiery.

  She weakened in his arms, his touch so familiar, and yet so vastly matured. His kiss was far more skilled than she’d remembered, but still so comfortingly familiar.

  There was a tenderness underlying the passion that pressed so desperately, almost painfully against her lips. It was dizzying, sending her world spiraling about her, a swirling tempest of rekindled desire. He clasped her face between his calloused hands, planting burning kisses across her cheeks, her nose, and even her eyelids.

  His lips reclaimed hers with even more urgency than before. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in, tighter and tighter, until she could scarcely breathe. His hand gripped a fistful of her hair, tugging sharply as though he were claiming her as his possession.

  She twisted herself in his lap, straddling him. Her hands caressed his cheeks as they kissed, remembering the way they’d done this so long ago. It had been more awkward, more tentative, but every bit as passionate.

  His hands slipped inside the back of her shirt and slid against the smooth skin of her back, eliciting a sigh of pleasure from her. Her temples were throbbing, and she felt weak and faint.

  “No,” he said suddenly, breaking away.

  He stood, lifting her with him and lowering her gently to the floor. He edged his way past her and dashed into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it.

  Sarah stood on trembling legs and stared after him. She could still feel the warmth of his hands of her skin, and taste the flavor of his kiss lingering on her lips. She pressed her fingers absently against her mouth.

  He needed time, and she knew it. She wanted to go to him, to cling to him, to love him the way he needed to be loved. She could feel his loneliness, and the bleakness of his miserable life. She so longed to be everything he needed, and more. But he needed time.

  She picked up her coat and purse and quietly left, tossing a longing glance over her shoulder before closing the front door softly behind her.

  She couldn’t bear the thought of returning to her grandmother’s house and trying to act as normal as possible under her watchful eye. Granny Brewer was remarkably perceptive, and she would only press Sarah to reveal what it was that was weighing so heavily on her shoulders.

  She decided to drive around for a while so she could think in peace. As she drove, she noticed a sign that sparked her interest.

  Apartment for rent. Just $99 moves you in today!

  She raised an eyebrow and quickly turned into the complex, a furious honk screaming after her.

  She entered the office and a smiling mid-forties woman with frosted blonde hair and frightening long orange fingernails greeted her with a thick southern accent.

  “Y’all come on in!” she said, waving her hand toward herself. “Looking for an apartment?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said.

  “Oh, don’t go calling me ma’am. My mother was a ma’am. I’m Georgette! Actually, just call me Georgie, most do.”

  “Oh… ok, Georgie.”

  “What kind of apartment are you looking for, honey? We have plenty of one and two-bedroom models available. Only one three-bedroom at the moment, I’m afraid. And honey, you don’t want that one. Trust me. It’s right above the dumpsters and the smell… pee-eww! I mean, I could move you into that one, but I just wouldn’t feel right.”

  “A one-bedroom is alright,” Sarah said. “It’s just me.”

  “Pretty little thing like you isn’t married? Why ever not?”

  “I was engaged, but… I called it off. He just wasn’t the right one.”

  Georgette lowered her voice and said, “Did he hit you? The bastard!”

  “No, no, nothing like that,” Sarah said. “It just didn’t feel right. I had a bad feeling. And… well, the truth is I’m in love with someone else.”

  “Oh, do tell!” Georgette begged, obviously sensing drama.

  “Nothing to tell, really. We dated twenty years ago and broke up. We recently reunited, but I’ve never been able to forget him. I think he feels the same way I do, but he’s reluctant to get into a relationship because he just recently got screwed over by the woman he was going to marry.”

  “Well, I’ll be,” Georgette breathed. “And he’s punishing you for her bad behavior.”

  “Not really,” Sarah argued. “I mean, he’s not doing it on purpose. I guess he’s just scared, because he’s been hurt his whole life.”

  “Poor thing,” Georgette muttered, shaking her head sadly. “Well, you need to step up and show him what it’s like to have a real woman. Show him we’re not all the same!”

  “I’m trying. Believe me, I’m trying.”

  “Well, let’s go show you that apartment, shall we?” Georgette asked. “Do you want one near the pool or in the back of the community where it’s quiet and there are more trees?”

  “Trees, please,” Sarah answered. “I love nature.”

  “So do I, honey,” Georgette said, lifting a key off a peg behind her. “Now, this apartment ain’t nothing fancy. It’s just a basic one-bedroom. But it has a dishwasher and a microwave. I think you’ll like it.” Outside, Georgette passed by a golf cart and said, “We could take that thing, but I think you’ll enjoy walking. It’s a nice community overall.”

  They trudged up a hill and kept going for a while, passing several two-story apartment buildings and a sparking swimming pool that was currently closed, but still uncovered.

  “This is it,” Georgette said when they reached the last building on the right. “It’s right upstairs. Come on.”

  Sarah followed the woman up a flight of stairs and watched as her orange claws struggled with the key. She turned it, and pushed the door open, standing aside and letting Sarah enter first.

  The foyer was tiny and uncarpeted. Georgette flicked a switch and the room lit up slightly, but the overhead light was weak. The woman entered the living room and pushed open the vertical blinds, allowing sunlight to pour across the mottled cream-colored carpet.

  “The carpet’s actually new,” Georgette said. “I know it looks dirty, but that’s just the pattern in the carpet. There’s fresh paint… though you’re free to paint it any color you want, just put it back like this before you move out and we won’t have to cha
rge you a painting fee.” She moved into the kitchen and said, “Basic fixtures in here. Some of the remodeled apartments have black appliances and updated counters and cabinets, but they cost more per month.”

  Sarah stepped over to the sliding glass doors and took note of the large balcony that overlooked the parking lot. She could picture it filled with potted plants and flowers and a cozy little patio table and chairs.

  “…stove, fridge, microwave, dishwasher. Everything you need, really,” Georgette continued. “Come in this way and I’ll show you the bedroom.”

  Sarah followed Georgette into a simple square room. It was a bit small, but Georgette walked over to a set of double French doors and flung them open, stepping outside. Sarah passed through the doors and onto a larger balcony than the one out front. This one overlooked a quiet wooded area, and she could hear birds chirping nearby.

  “I’ll take it,” Sarah said.

  “But you haven’t even seen the bathrooms, yet. There’s an en suite off the bedroom and a half bath for guests off the foyer. And you don’t even know the price!”

  “The French doors and the balcony sold me,” Sarah said. “I’ll take it.”

  Sarah leaned against the railing of the balcony and breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of grass and damp leaves. She closed her eyes and listened to a breeze rustling through the leaves, their dry, browning crackle music to her ears.

  “Alright, honey, let’s head back to the office and get you all signed up,” said Georgette. “It’s $625 a month, water include. You’ll need to get the lights turned on in your name within fourteen days. Of course, because of our special you only have to pay $99 to move in today. Your first month’s rent won’t be due until the first of next month.”

  Georgette locked up the apartment and Sarah tuned out her idle chatter as they walked back to the office. She could already picture herself living there, surrounded by the peace and quiet of nature, knowing it was really hers.