by Dora Hiers
He scraped a hand across the stubble smattered across his cheeks. Besides, what he deserved and what he wanted were two different things, and right now, neither mattered. And with no immediate job opportunity on the horizon, he’d have plenty of time to sleep.
Sighing, he blinked back the weariness and rolled his gaze along the handful of people lined up in front with the pastor.
His brother, Camdon.
Man, how he’d missed his twin. He’d even missed his brother’s controlling nature, but that wasn’t something he’d admit to Camdon.
The groom, famous racecar driver Mason Mulrennan. All fancied up in a black tux and pinning Remi with a love-struck gaze. If it weren’t for all the pictures plastered over the news, Carson would never have guessed that the guy was a celebrity athlete. With his sister’s extreme social phobia, how did she ever hook up with him?
He’d have to ask Camdon. His gaze shifted to the next person in line.
The bride. His baby sister, dressed in a silky white gown, her long hair pulled back in some type of fancy knot under that veil.
When he’d left, hadn’t she been just a kid? The last thing lodged in his brain was her giddy excitement over finally getting her driver’s license. Camdon had gotten on to him for teasing her unmercifully about being an old lady before she could actually drive, but she hadn’t seemed to care. She’d just smiled sweetly and swatted at his arm. Now here she was, all grown up and glowing with a peaceful radiance.
Carson swiped a sleeve across his face, blotting out the moisture burning his eyes. He’d stayed away too long. He refocused on the next person in line.
Sunlight dazzled from the late afternoon sky, glinting like diamonds from a halo-like crown of the blonde-haired beauty standing next to his sister.
Jillian?
He straightened in the chair, sucking in a long breath, holding it until his lungs practically burst with the effort. It couldn’t be her, could it?
Camdon had never mentioned Jillian.
Granted, he’d only called Camdon occasionally, just to let him know that he was still alive and to pass the news along to his mom. Not that his less-than-sporadic calls would stop his mother from worrying. But, talking to his twin was his way of holding on to that tenuous strand linking him to his family without the guilt. And Camdon wouldn’t break down like his mother or sister would.
No. His brother was always a solid rock on the phone, just like he’d always been for their family after their dad’s death.
Unlike him.
But Camdon hadn’t bothered to let on that Jillian had matured into this stunning creature or even that she still lived in the area. Not that he’d ventured to ask about her.
What had he expected? That when he left, she wouldn’t stick around either? Get real, man.
“Mason, you may now kiss your bride.” The kindness in the pastor’s voice snagged his attention back to the couple, now locked in a lingering man and wife kiss.
But the beautiful woman’s silhouette drew his gaze. Was it really her? She’d always been beautiful, but now…
Now she was a stunner. A jade gown dropped midway to her slender ankles. Delicate lacy sleeves highlighted well-defined muscles. The silky material hugged her form and accentuated her curves.
He didn’t like the direction his thoughts were headed. Forcing his gaze up, he tamped down a sigh and silently scolded his wishy-washy heart.
Curly wisps of golden hair had come untucked from the clasp gathering it in the back. Her chin jutted out, and her lips quivered, her knuckles tightly gripping the bouquet. As if she was desperately trying to hold it together.
He twisted to get a better look around the person in front of him. Not difficult since there were only five rows of chairs for the guests.
A tear trickled down the woman’s ivory cheek. She swiped it away with a tissue, leaving a tiny smudge of dark makeup.
Oh, yeah. That confirmed it.
He leaned back, shock pinning him to the chair.
Jillian’s eyes. Always so alluring, so enchanting with her heavy-handed application of dark shadow and mascara, under that glorious fringe of blonde hair. She’d never realized—no, accepted—how beautiful she was, always shrugging off his compliments with a fierce toss of her ponytail. Did she still not believe it?
The happy couple practically danced down the center aisle, love glowing from their faces as they made their way to the back of the gathering. His sister shared a secret smile with him, flicking her head toward the reception area.
He nodded and released the breath he’d been holding, filling his lungs with the wonderful aromas floating on the breeze. Roses. Cake. Coffee. Slow roasted pork.
His belly growled loud enough to earn a glare from the old bat next to him, but he ignored her.
He’d meet up with Remi in a minute. First, he planned to track down Jillian, who never once glanced in his direction as she practically flew down the aisle, hanging on to Camdon’s arm and smiling up at his twin with a familiarity that unsettled him, leaving his stomach churning from more than just hunger.
He hadn’t expected a hero's welcome. But he never expected to find that his high school sweetheart had fallen in love with his brother, either.
****
Thirteen years. Without one word to her, although she knew he’d called his brother plenty of times.
Did he expect that she’d just waltz into his arms now that he was back?
So not happening!
Jillian clung to Camdon’s arm with her tightest firefighter grip, doing her best to sail past the long-legged man whose dark head perched higher than the rest of the guests seated in the last row, but that was proving harder than she imagined.
Especially after catching sight of him during the march to the altar. Almost like an apparition, he’d hiked onto Remi’s property from the distance, his face hidden by the sun’s blinding glare. Weariness dogged his steps and stooped his shoulders. Fatigue dimmed his eyes. If the tattered jeans and shabby boots were any indication, he’d walked the whole way back to Harrison.
She knew the moment he’d recognized her, after the ceremony had started. If she had her way, he wouldn’t see her now. Maybe if she didn’t glance in his direction, if she worked her way to the edge of the crowd, if she ignored the invisible tug that anchored her to him, she could sneak out of here unnoticed. Remi would understand.
“Well, would you look at that? He made it back.” Camdon leaned down, close to her ear, pleasure deepening his voice. So much like his twin’s, yet Camdon’s voice never made her heart leap. Never even so much as caused a blip in her pulse.
“It’ll all work out.” Camdon patted her hand, acknowledging her deep intake of breath. “Come on.”
“But I’m with—” She tried to tug her hand away, but the man wouldn’t let go. She couldn’t escape now. Not without making a scene.
Camdon led her toward the back then finally released her to yank the chair out from behind his brother. He curled a giant paw around his twin’s shoulder and pulled him into a hug.
Caught off-guard, Carson swiveled. His boot tangled with the chair leg, sending him sprawling—
Oh no! She didn’t have time to brace herself for impact. The breath squeezed from her lungs, and she staggered backwards, trying desperately to keep her balance. Her spiked heel snagged in the grass. Her arms flailed, windmill fashion. She closed her eyes, prepared for the pain—
A long arm snaked around her back, saving her from smacking the ground, as effortlessly as if they were professional salsa dancers performing a complicated dip. She closed her eyes and breathed deep of freshly mowed grass, thankful that Camdon had kept her upright.
She expected to smell his familiar woody fragrance, but all she took in was the scent of outdoors, of long walks in the sun, definitely masculine…
But definitely not Camdon.
Her lashes fluttered open.
“May I have this dance?” Carson’s familiar face smiled down at her, tiny crinkles
fanning out from those luscious emerald orbs. The brown speckled flakes seemed a bit faded with time, but they still twinkled. One arm still latched around her back. The other gripped his brother’s forearm.
With extremely little effort, he hoisted her so that they both stood upright, but her head huddled close to his chest. So close that his short puffs of air tickled her cheeks.
Her pulse ratcheted up to rocket speed, and dampness blanketed the palm that gripped the bouquet. How could he still have this effect on her? She wouldn’t allow it!
She wedged a sweaty palm against his chest and gave him a not-so-gentle shove, brushing his hand away in the process. Then she tugged the awkward shoes off and gripped them with two fingers, her gaze sliding to the bouquet of now-withering buds. Blades of grass pricked her bare feet, sparking her ire even further.
“I can take care of myself.” She’d survived a long time without his help, and she didn’t need it today. Immediately she regretted the words. Especially when he nodded, slow and uncertain, and clamped his lips together, a tic pulsing in his jaw. A lone tear trickled from his long lashes and tracked down his whisker-heavy cheek.
Her heart twisted, and her heart puddled at her feet. She sucked in a breath, warning her primary organ to behave.
He squeezed his lids closed and pressed a thumb and finger against them.
“Jillian.” When his hand fell away, all traces of the moisture had disappeared, leaving his face void of emotion. Not his voice, though. The single whispered word was full of it.
“It’s good to see you, Carson.” As much as she might want to, she couldn’t deny it. But she didn’t have to like it.
“I’d have to say it’s a whole lot better to see you.” His eyes gleamed with appreciation. His lips quivered into a smile, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down along his throat.
Obviously the man who stood before her now, allowing her to witness a glimpse of his vulnerable side, wasn’t the same cocky guy who’d thrown away her love years ago.
Her only response was to puff her shoulders back, steeling her spine against the onslaught of good memories.
Snuggling together at high school football games. Holding hands as they walked to school. Licking from the same chocolate-covered dipped cone on Saturday nights. Sharing kisses that singed the hair on her arms.
Treasured memories that she’d stuffed deep down, and then encased them with blocks of concrete. That way his leaving couldn’t hurt her so much.
Ha. As if that had worked.
She’d forgiven him a long time ago, but that didn’t mean she planned to make this reunion easier for him.
“You must be Carson Lambright.” A male voice broke into her thoughts, sounding hollow and far off at first, before it finally seeped into her consciousness.
Corbin Randolph.
Her date.
As if she needed the reminder that she wasn’t here alone, an arm wrapped around her back, and Corbin pulled her next to his side in a possessive gesture.
She narrowed her eyes at her friend, debating how to handle this awkward situation. In a moment of weakness, she had accepted Corbin’s invitation to escort her to Remi’s wedding. They’d been friends for a long time, but that’s all she’d ever permitted their relationship to be.
Until tonight. When she’d intended to allow their friendship to advance to the next level. A more-than-friends relationship. But she hadn’t told Corbin that, yet.
Because she’d finally waved the white flag of surrender on casual dating. How many times did she want to acknowledge the hideous scars marring her body? Or decide to dress in a pair of shorts just to catch her date’s reaction? Or watch a guy try to cover his horror behind a hand or turning his head?
It didn’t matter which guy or how long she’d known them. They all reacted the same. With revulsion. Except Corbin, who had a morbid fascination with the medical miracle of skin grafts.
Yep. She was done with the dating scene. But, neither could she imagine a lifetime of loneliness, of pining for a man who didn’t care whether she existed or not. And her heart literally ached from putting her dreams of love and children off forever.
Corbin was the logical choice for a future. They enjoyed each other’s company. He made her laugh, and he was pleasant and easy enough to talk to. Her scars didn’t matter to him. But the biggest reason?
He had no control over her heart.
None whatsoever.
No, her heart had only danced to the tune of the man in front of her. The man whose shoulders had suddenly stooped, as if long, backbreaking years of manual labor had aged him right before her eyes.
But he’d willingly snuffed out the music to their dance a long time ago.
Carson stared at the arm that had disappeared around her waist. The brown flecks in his gorgeous eyes widened, and a heavy eyebrow arched. A muscle ticked along his clenched jaw.
Surely he wasn’t…jealous?
She considered snuggling closer to Corbin. For about one second. She’d never been one to play games, and she wasn’t about to start now just because Carson showed a flicker of emotion where she was concerned.
Jerking away from Corbin’s side, she stepped out of his reach, determined not to be sucked into the bitter surge of feelings threatening to drag her back out to the sea of despair that she’d almost drowned in the day she graduated high school.
The day Carson left.
She gripped the bunch of roses so tight that sharp fingernails dug into her skin. The sweet smell of cake and flowers battled with the strong scent of roasted pork, churning in her belly, threatening to expose the hamburger she’d scarfed down for lunch. She gulped it back and loosened her hold on the flowers.
“Corbin Randolph. Meet Carson Lambright, my twin. Corbin’s our favorite local vet.” Camdon saved her from speaking, the emotion and warring scents leaving her throat raw, her tummy unsettled.
Carson held out a hand and, after a second’s hesitation, her date accepted the handshake, reluctance lining his downturned lips and firming his jaw. As if he knew Carson was a threat. Had the gossip mill already started here at the wedding? Had Corbin heard the rumors about their past? Or was her face giving something away?
She wrangled her emotions, schooling her features, and then glanced at Carson. Fatigue shadowed his face and something else. Respect? Resignation? She couldn’t tell.
Camdon clapped a hand around his brother’s shoulder, joy and disbelief softening the sharp edges of his usually serious expression. “I still can’t believe you’re back, man. When did you get in?”
“The moment Remi began her march down the aisle. Literally.”
Well, technically, he’d sauntered into the yard when Jillian stumbled down the aisle, but she didn’t correct him. She hid her expression by tucking some flyaway strands of hair back behind an ear.
“Did you meet Ryan?”
“Yeah. Looks like Mom and Remi both did well.” His dew-glazed gaze slid back to her, and his voice dropped a notch, as did his chin. “Jillian, I—”
Light jazz came across the speakers situated strategically in Remi’s yard, then a clear male voice cut in. “What a fabulous afternoon for a wedding, right, folks? Congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Mason Mulrennan!”
The music man waited until the applause died down, then continued. “While the bride and groom take care of pictures, relax, dance, whatever floats your boat. The party’s just getting started.”
“That’s our cue.” Indecision crossed Camdon’s face, not a typical expression for the unflappable and confident Deputy City Manager. “Carson, you know Remi’s going to want you in the pictures.”
Carson’s chest lifted. His nostrils flared slightly before his lips compressed. “I’m not dressed for pictures.”
His brother nodded and flicked his head toward the house. “We can fix that. Come on.”
Carson allowed his brother to lead him away, but after a couple steps, he turned around, his eyes begging her for something. What? “Jillian
, can we talk later?”
The wanderer wanted to talk.
She’d wanted to talk thirteen years ago. Now? Not so much. Now, she was ready to listen.
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CRAVING A SWEET FIREFIGHTER ROMANCE? How about a peek at Fully Involved, the first book in the Merriville Firefighter Heroes series? He fights fires. She saves kids. Can they stop battling each other long enough to realize they want the same thing? Love, family...forever.
“We can’t win them all, Cammie.”
Campbell “Cammie” Parkson wrangled her car into an empty parking spot on the opposite end of the hospital’s emergency room entrance. Sheesh. Talk about a hike.
Of all the stupid things to say—
If she ignored her boss, maybe he’d think their connection had dropped? She switched off the engine, thankful for the brief period of silence.
Wouldn’t last long, though. Not with the ambulance due to arrive any minute.
She snatched the phone from the cradle and her purse from the seat and dashed to the entry, the phone sandwiched between shoulder and ear, coming awfully close to smashing her nose against the glass entrance door before it slid all the way open. The phone dropped, snagging between her coat and sweater.
“Argh!” Growling, she dug it out and forced herself to slow down. Enough to flick a cursory nod toward the curly white-haired volunteer behind the reception desk and flash her credentials. The wet soles of her boots squeaked down the long narrow hall.
We can’t win them all.
Her supervisor’s words ricocheted in her head until she wanted to spit them out. Or resign.
So, she held her tongue.
Keeping children safe was about protecting innocent lives, about listening to little people who couldn’t speak up for themselves. About valuing life, every life. Period.
Not…winning! Please, God, let this boy survive.
“Cammie, you still there?”