The crowd that comes in at ten keeps me busy until closing time. The sexy stranger orders two more drinks. After closing time, I wipe down the counter and the surfaces.
Half-past twelve finds me at a corner table sipping my drink and ogling Ace. Away from the counter, I can look at him properly. The shirt he’s got on does nothing to hide his ripped abs and bulging biceps. He’s clearly a man who loves the gym. The hint of dark facial hair enhances his sex appeal but it's more than that. I try to analyze the hot pull of attraction that I feel for him. I’ve never felt anything like this for any other man. He has an air of self-control, making him seem in total control of everything around him. While other men would be hunting for something to say, Ace is content to sit and listen to the background music. I, on the other hand, want to talk. So far, we’ve only exchanged names and general chit chat.
“Are you from around here?” I ask him.
“Yes, but this is my first time here,” Ace says, his eyes dark. There’s something dark and dangerous about him. My insides tremble.
“I don’t live too far away from here,” I tell him, and then my face heats up at the implication of my words.
He contemplates me. “How about we continue this at my place?”
I form the words no in my mouth. Panic engulfs my chest. What if I say no and I never see him again? What if he’s the one? It’s only a drink after all?
I know he can see the conflict in my face. Another man would jump in and try to cajole me into going home with him. Not Ace. He sits watching me. Waiting for me to make up my mind. And that’s the clincher. I find it sexy as hell. He’s so confident that he just waits.
Like he knows the answer will be yes.
I grapple with indecision. Just one drink, I tell myself.
Who was I kidding, I think later as we hungrily eat each other’s mouth in the elevator? He tastes of the bourbon I served him earlier with a hint of mint. The elevator comes to a stop and he breaks the kiss and leads me to his apartment.
I register the bareness of his apartment before he pulls me into his arms again and before I can protest, our mouths have meshed together. Warning bells ring in my head. It’s all moving too fast. We need to get to know each other first before jumping into bed.
Maybe we can get to know each other afterward.
His hands find my nipples underneath my top and all rational thought leaves my head. I moan as his fingers expertly tease my nipples over my lace bra. I realize that we’re moving and by the time we get to what I assume is his bedroom, we don’t have a stitch of clothing on and I’m panting for him to take me.
I’m embarrassed by my lust, but I take comfort in that it’s mutual. Ace guides me to the bed and arranges himself between my legs. I let out moans as his tongue works over my folds. I’ve missed this so badly. I come over and over again as he tirelessly pleasures me.
My body screams for more. “I want you,” I tell him, and he growls in response.
It’s only later that I realize with dismay that we had sex without protection. I prop myself up on my arm. “Did you?”
Ace trains those gorgeous liquid brown eyes on me and when understanding dawns, he shakes his head. “No, but I withdrew.”
Relief surges through me. I’ve never done anything so stupid. I can’t even tell my sister. She’ll chew me out for it and lecture me about the dangerous diseases that lurk in strangers’ bodies.
I lower my head and plant kisses on his hairy chest. He has a distinct woodsy scent as if he works outside.
I raise my head for some conversation. “So, what is that you do?”
He threads his fingers through my hair. “Right now, what I want to do is to ravish you again and again.” He pulls me to lie on top of him and kneads my backside.
His manhood hardens between my legs and I shift so that it rubs deliciously against my still sensitive sweet spot. He cups the back of my head and brings me down to his lips. He nibbles on my lower lip and then sucks it as if it’s the sweetest thing he has ever tasted.
He slides down and captures my left nipple in his mouth and plays with the other. My nipples are the most sensitive part of my body and before long, I’m squirming and moaning his name. He nips each nipple with just the right amount of pressure.
He drags his tongue down to my belly, pushing me up so that I’m on all fours. He slides further down and grips my hips with his big hands. I gyrate as if I’m on the dance floor as his tongue teases my pussy.
I grab a fistful of bedsheets as an orgasm rolls around my stomach working its way to the rest of my body. Ace completely slides from under me and I hear the rustle of a foil packet.
Moments later, he thrusts his manhood deep into me, filling more than just my pussy. He fills a void in me that I hadn’t known existed. He glides in and out of me in perfect rhythm.
He makes me forget all the heartbreak of the previous months. It doesn’t matter that Eric left me without an explanation or goodbye. What matters is here and now and the pleasure that wipes away all that pain.
Is it possible to fall for a man hours after meeting him? I have a feeling about Ace. He’s special. The sex is out of this world but it’s more than that. We have an almost spiritual connection. I felt it the moment he walked up to the bar, and by the way, he stared at me, I know he felt it too.
I see stars as the world around me splinters into a million pieces and it’s a while before the tremors in my body cease. Ace goes to the bathroom and when he returns, he wraps me in his big arms and I lie on his chest as if we’ve been sleeping together for years.
I’m exhausted after that session and I feel my eyelids growing heavy. We don’t make an attempt at conversation which suits me just fine. We can talk when we wake up. I sleep with a smile on my face.
It’s the silence that wakes me up. I blink at harsh sunlight burning my eyes. I feel my side, where Ace had lain. His side of the bed is empty. I listen to his sounds in the kitchen or bathroom. Nothing. When my vision clears, I look around the bedroom.
The closet doors are flung open like someone was packing. Heart thumping, I sit up and peer into the open wardrobe. It’s empty. I jump from the bed, dragging the covers with me. I peer into the bathroom and the guest bedroom.
He’s not in the living room or kitchen either. And there’s no note. I let out a nervous laugh. He’s probably gone out to get us some breakfast. Two hours later, after I’ve showered and dressed, a knock comes on the door.
Relief floods me. I fling the front door and come face to face with a man with a badge pinned on his shirt that says Pinnacle real estate. He’s carrying a file.
He narrows his eyes. “I’m sorry. Mr. Carter said he would vacate the apartment by today.”
Chapter 2
Ace
Two Years Later
“Dive for cover!” I scream to my fellow soldiers. I manage to dive into a trench before it goes off.
The stench of burning flesh pulls me from my hiding spot. A scream works its way up my throat when I see the damage from the grenade. I crawl closer and recognize Jareth…and scream.
I sit up with my breath coming out in gasps. I can still smell the smoke. I look around wildly and recognize my surroundings. I’m not in Afghanistan. I’m in my newly bought condo in LA. It’s over now. No more grenades and smoke and loss.
No more pain. Except that is not true. I have left the battlefield, but the battlefield has not left me. What kind of fucked up life am I living?
I fall back into bed and look up at the ceiling. My body is coated in sweat and it takes a few minutes before my breathing returns to normal. I glance at the clock on my nightstand. Three am. A couple more hours before I need to wake up and get ready to go to work.
There's no chance of falling asleep again so I get up and tread to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. I open the French doors in the kitchen and step out into the balcony.
The night air is chilly but refreshing. It makes me feel alive to feel cold instead of the numbness
that I’ve lived with since I came back from Afghanistan. The firefighter training helped to keep my mind busy and sometimes I am able to fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.
Knots of anxiety form in my stomach and I inhale deeply to dispel them. I can’t afford to fuck up now. Not when I've come so far. I aced the fire training course. It was child's play, to be honest. Everything is easy after you've faced bombs and witnessed unimaginable human suffering.
I’m back in California and no one knows. Not my parents, not my brother, or my best friend, Park. Guilt surfaces in my gut. I should have let Park know that I was back. Knowing him and his wife Rachel, they would have organized a big party to welcome me back home. The very last thing I need.
It’s still odd to be among people. To walk down the streets without ducking every so often. I feel exposed when I go out, but we’d been told to expect that. It’s harder than I imagined to blend back into civilian life. But time will take care of that. If only these fucking flashbacks would stop.
I bring my thoughts back to Park. I make a point to call him sometime during the day. My brother Declan floats to my mind and despite everything that happened between us, a part of me misses him. He's older than me by a year and we were best buddies growing up before a woman came between us.
I harden my heart. I've earned the right to cut people who do not add value out of my life and Declan is one of them. So are my parents. They took sides when Declan had clearly been in the wrong. And that’s putting it mildly.
I drink too much coffee between three and five and by the time I go for my five-mile run, I feel high on caffeine. I get back to my apartment, shower, and leave for work. The run has done me good and I feel like any other normal human being going to work. It feels good to feel normal again.
I wish I could capture that feeling and keep it for those moments when I’m plunged into a black hole and have no memory of what it feels like to be simply Ace Carter.
I'm excited as I drive toward LA Fire Department Station 255. I can’t remember feeling this excited about anything. It feels like a new start for me. I’m one of those people who actually love to work but not just any job.
I found my calling of helping people when I was in the military. Being a firefighter is a dream come true. Before I was deployed, Declan and I ran a real estate company, and though it became more successful than we had dreamed it never filled me with a sense of purpose as the military did. I need to be doing something that contributes to society for my life to feel purposeful. And firefighting is perfect for me and I can’t wait to start.
It's quarter to seven when I park my SUV outside the station and kill the engine.
My palms are damp and my stomach hard with tension as I get out of the car. I'm familiar with the layout of the station and walk up to the glass doors and push them open.
"Good morning," a middle-aged dark-haired woman says with a smile. "My name is Catherine and you must be Ace Carter. I work the reception part-time.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She grins. "Welcome.”
I look around. It seems so quiet though there wouldn’t be a lot of activity in the reception area.
"The guys are about to change shifts. Go on in, everyone is in the dayroom."
I inhale deeply. "Thanks."
I push the door open and enter a huge room arranged with comfortable chairs as well as a huge TV. Everyone turns to me and those who are seated stand.
I'd met the chief for a briefing the previous week. He’s a burly but kindly man called Mason. He steps forward.
"Welcome Carter!" he bellows and grips my hand. "We've been expecting you."
My nervousness is immediately dispelled as the guys welcome me into the fold. This is what I’ve been missing since leaving Afghanistan. A sense of brotherhood. Of belonging. Of working for a larger cause, knowing that I was contributing to making the world a better, safer place.
Someone pushes a cup of coffee into my hands. The names fly by me, but I know over time I’ll come to know them well. Soon everyone in my shift arrives and we all sit down for a briefing from the team leader of the shift that’s leaving. Then with waves and calls to be safe, the guys leave and I’m officially on shift.
The chief instructs his deputy to keep an eye on me and make sure that I'm comfortable.
"We'll get a lot of false alarms," Collins tells me but we're pretty busy, being in downtown LA.”
I accompany him outside and we chat as we inspect the vehicles and do some light maintenance jobs. The PA crackles as we are cleaning one of the engines.
The lights of the station come on and there's a flurry of controlled activity as we change and gather our gear. There is a palpable air of tension. Adrenaline flows through my veins. This is it. My very first call.
The call-out is for fire and no one likes a fire. I learned that during my training. There are five of us in the truck and seconds later, it’s cruising down the road, sirens blazing.
The commercial building on fire is on Bay Street but luckily, the building is at the end of the street. Heavy dark smoke rises to the sky and orange flames hiss out of the ground floor of the building.
We jump out of the truck and grab our gear. My insides clench as I wonder whether there are any people trapped in the building. I know how it feels like to be blinded by smoke and the panic that follows as you inhale the poisonous air. My chest tightens and my breathing accelerates. My training kicks in before my emotions can get the better of me.
For the two hours, we battle the fire, changing hoses and manpower intermittently until we get it under control. By the time it’s over, I'm exhausted but proud of myself.
As I follow Collins out of the black shell that is one side of the ground floor, a loud creaking sound rises above the noise of seeping water, before a bang sounds.
After that, my mind goes blank and the next time I come around I'm seated in the fire truck with Collins and the chief on either side of me. My breathing apparatus is off and my overall is unbuttoned and so is my shirt. My chest is bare.
I glance from one to the other in confusion. "What happened?" I’m thinking a blast went off and I happened to be close to it. But it doesn’t appear as if I have any injuries.
The Chief looks at me with concern in his eyes. "You lost it a little in there. You started screaming for everyone to get down.”
I cover my face as my memory returns. I remember hearing a loud noise and after that my sick brain transported me back to Afghanistan. I vaguely remember crouching down and urging Collins to do the same. I recall grabbing what I thought was my weapon and aiming it toward the noise. Shame floods me. I must have looked insane. A grown man crouching on the ground holding a pretend weapon.
The chief pats my shoulders.
"I'm sorry," I say. I can’t fucking believe this has happened on my very first day. So much for making a good impression.
"Hey, we understand. You've been through a lot in the last couple of years," he says. "You were great out there," Collins says but I don’t register that. All I can feel is shame and disappointment.
This is the one thing that has kept me going for the last few months. The chance of working at a job I know I’ll love and contributing to society. Then I have to go and fuck it up on the first day. I clench my fists in suppressed anger.
"Take it easy," the chief says. "Take the rest of the day off and come back Friday for a new shift if you feel up to it. If you don’t, call me and we'll reschedule it."
I should be grateful that he's been so kind to me. Instead, I'm angry that I'm being treated like a baby. They think I’m fragile now. Great.
***
It's five in the evening and instead of being at work, pitching in, and doing my bit, I'm pacing the living room of my condo. A place I had hoped not to see until tomorrow morning after a successful shift. I go over everything that happened and try to figure out what triggered the episode. It must have been the loud creaking noise or the bang that followed.
I hate loud unexpected noises. They take me back to the war zone. But it’s unavoidable.
I need a plan for the next time it happens, but I can’t for the life of me think of anything. I'm used to dealing with real live enemies. Visible enemies. This time the enemy is internal. Invisible. How do you fight something you can't see?
I'm restless and I feel like a caged animal. I need to get out. I could drive down to the bay and see Park. It would not take more than forty-five minutes. I quickly discard that idea.
I'm not in the right frame of mind for a reunion. Then a memory comes to mind. A brunette with the most gorgeous hazel eyes I've ever seen. But what I need from her is not her face, as nice as I remember it to be. I need the same thing she gave me two years ago—her sexy body.
What are the chances that she's still working at The Alma? Next to zero but it’s worth a shot. I grab my keys and jacket and head downstairs to the parking lot on the ground floor. I haven’t decided on what to do but right now, what I need is a distraction. Someone to make me forget and the brunette fits that bill perfectly. As I drive, I wrack my brain for her name but, for the life of me, I cannot remember. Essie. No, but it was a short name.
Fifteen minutes later, I navigate to the parking space behind the cocktail bar and kill the engine. I prepare myself to do some amount of groveling. I'm not as well versed with women's psychology as my brother, but I know enough to realize that I didn’t exactly leave her a happy camper the last time we were together.
Okay, maybe more than that. I was a bit of an asshole but in my defense, I was angry and hurting. My brother had stolen my girlfriend. My high school sweetheart at that. The girl I planned on spending the rest of my life with.
I'd enrolled in the military as an act of defiance. The night the sexy brunette and I were together had been my last night before deployment. That night had healed something inside me and calmed me down. She had helped me without even knowing and I'm hoping that she'll help me again.
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