by Eden Butler
Those big eyes rounded, meeting mine in the mirror when I slowed my rhythm, still inside her, going slower as I grabbed her hand to bring it back my hair, letting her touch my braid, wanting her to know I trusted her. More than anyone, I trusted her.
“Ed…”
“I’ve always belonged to you, baby.” She let her mouth drop open, not seeming able to say anything as I watched her. “That hasn’t changed. What I am, what I have, is yours.” Piper released the smallest noise, a little laugh, a little cry before she pulled away from me, turning to take my mouth and kiss me stupid.
The cottage was hot, the entire place smelled like rosemary, sex, and our sweaty bodies, but that didn’t keep me from lifting her to my waist and bringing her back to the bed, not tired yet, knowing there was still plenty of time to make up.
We moved together like the wind. I knelt on the mattress, still hard, my body greedy for her, and Piper followed, straddling me, slipping on my cock with a satisfied whimper moving past her lips.
“I…take back what I said…” She held onto my shoulders leaning back as I held her by the waist, guiding her over my lap. “This…this right here is so damn good.”
“It all is,” I said, groaning when she squeezed around me. I twisted my head to the side, my eyes squeezed tight at the sensation. “Shit, baby…do that again. Keep…doing it…”
And she did, rocking on top of me, holding on tight, squeezing me from the inside, milking me, owning me until it was all I could do to grip her hair between my fingers, twisting her mouth to mine as we bounced together, our moans and breaths rattling against the small cottage.
When she needed it “harder” and “deeper,” I gave Piper what she wanted.
When I asked for her to be on top, she shoved me against the mattress and rode me harder than any of her ponies she raced around barrels.
Our bodies were sticky. Damp. Our limbs tangled, languid and even as everything in me felt depleted, Piper let me take her from behind, let me hold onto her waist, my fingers tweaking her nipples, my mouth kissing against her spine as I drove into her over and over again.
“Eddie…oh, God…yes!”
One thrust and another with her clamping around me one last time, and we fell together in an exhausted heap on that abused mattress, the sheets and blankets long since kicked to the floor.
I didn’t let her get too far from me, curling an arm around her to pull her against my chest as our breaths evened out and the dizzying weight of the long night began to settle. She was featherlight, and it felt good to have her there, right next to me with the smell of her hair and the warmth from her mouth right against my bare skin.
My Piper. Finally.
The cottage had gone so quiet and we’d gotten so still I thought she’d drifted off, but just as my eyes began to shut, Piper tilted her head, drawing a circle with her nail against my shoulder, picking up the end of my braid before she spoke.
“I’m yours too,” she said through a breath, though her voice was clear. “I never stopped being yours.”
Piper
He was beautiful. Strong. Even when he snored.
“You’re staring again,” Ed said at my restless, five a.m. fingernail strokes against the corded lines of his defined muscles of his chest.
“It’s weird,” I admitted, pulling the pillow off his face.
“It’s not weird.”
“You sleep with a pillow covering your face. That’s weird, sugar.”
“You’re complaining about me already?”
“Well,” I started, stretching, “I haven’t shared a bed with anyone in a long time and you are loud and the whole pillow face hiding thing is…sort of…”
“Dealbreaker?” he asked, resting on his elbows, his gaze sharp as I shrugged, pretending to be bored when he pulled back the blanket to show off the at-attention state of his beautiful body.
“I’m supposed to be impressed?”
Ed grinned, and I rolled my eyes, throwing my legs over the edge of the mattress, ready to stand, only to be pulled back and pinned down, his long hair like a curtain around us.
“You’re impressed. I know you are.” He didn’t give me a chance to deny it before he reached down, kissing me hard, stealing my breath as he wiggled between my legs, ready to slip inside me, and I was only too eager to oblige him, even adjusted my hips, and gave back an enthusiastic kiss.
Then both our cells went off, vibrating against the wood floors next to the pile of clothes we’d left them in.
“Shit…” Ed started, sighing, as he started to pull away.
“Who in the world at this hour,” I said, not hiding the irritation in my tone then wincing when I caught the expression on his face. “Dang. I forgot. That could be Evie…”
“The baby—”
We scrambled from the mattress, diving to the pile of clothes and grabbed our phones at the same time. The ringing had stopped, but my heart began to pound when I spotted the mass of text messages I’d missed.
“It’s Tasso…” Ed said, holding his phone to his ear.
But I wasn’t listening to him. My focus was on Alex’s frantic voice and the sirens in the background of the message he left.
“Piper…”
“Ed…we have to go! Now!”
“The B&B…” Ed said, grabbing his jeans, tugging them on just as I scrambled to find my clothes.
“A fire! A damn fire? At my B&B?”
“Hey,” he said, handing me my bra and shirt, already dressed, his hand on my face. “Take a breath. I’ll drive, and we’ll figure this out.”
The smoke billowed in the air so thick the stench of it thickened in my sinuses five miles before we’d even made it to town.
“It’ll be okay, baby…you’ll see.”
I didn’t believe Ed. Wanted to. Wanted nothing more than for him to be right, but the closer we came to town, the thicker the streets had grown with the rumble of running fire engines and the flashing of lights. They all converged on my pretty Victorian.
Even this early in the morning, cars crowded at the corners four blocks from the B&B. Crowds of onlookers congregated in the store parking lot across the street from it. Gray-haired old women and thick waisted older men left the pre-opening tasks of their tiny shops and corner stores to stare in horror as fire trucks yanked fat ropes of hoses toward my burning livelihood.
“Eddie…”
It was two of the longest seconds of my life, everything pausing—the lights moving in slow motion, the noise of sirens and anxious, screaming voices muted, the thundering of my heart slowing until it became a half beat rhythm rocking me into a false sense of calm. Then, I looked at Eddie, saw the flash of red lighting up the cab of his truck as we stopped in the middle of the street, unable to do anything but stare up at the Victorian, eyes unblinking as the entire right side of the building burned.
“Nizhóní…”
Then time unfroze, sped forward and we blinked, looking away from each other and the noise and bustle and chaos flooded back into my head, crashed my senses as we both jumped from the truck and ran right for my B&B.
“Oh God…God!”
I ran straight for the Victorian, not seeing anything but the burning wood and curling dead trim. Not hearing the screams behind me telling me to stop. Then—arms holding me back. Ed’s voice against my ear and my brother Alex, fresh from the hospital, catching me before the firemen did, holding me back, curling his big brother arms around me, tight, fierce, like I was six years old again and Charmaine Dilson had pushed me off the monkey bars.
“It’ll be okay,” he said against the top of my head. “We’ll fix it. I promise…”
“Alex…” I wanted to throw up, watching years of work, elbow grease and decades of history crackle and singe beneath the flames and smoke. “Oh God…”
“Did everybody get out?” I heard Ed say behind me, his voice loud, screaming over the din of crowding voices, over the thrash of water and the shouts coming from men donning yellow slickers and h
ard hats as they ran toward the fire.
“All the guests…I…I think…”
Eliza’s voice only registered when Ed asked her again, his tone frantic. “My friends? The Australian fella and his wife? What about them?”
“They didn’t answer their door. And the smoke was. It was so bad by that time. I couldn’t breathe.”
I pulled away from my brother, spotted Eliza with a blanket around her shoulders and Ed looking green, his eyes round and frantic as he glared at her. Normally, she was sensible. She was meticulous with keeping track of the guests. Eliza should have had a head count.
“You didn’t open it to make sure?” Ed yelled, looking close to running into to the B&B when the girl shook her head.
“I’ll check with the marshal,” Alex said, tapping my shoulder.
“Eliza?” She blinked up at me, hurrying to my side, her pink cheeks paling. “What happened? Where did it start?” I sounded sick, like something had crept into the back of my throat and made a nest there.
“Oh, Miss Piper…I don’t know. I thought I heard something out on the patio and when I went out there was nothing.” She wiped at her face, using the thin wool blanket to dry her cheeks. “When I came back to the lobby the front door was open, and I hurried to shut it. It was a good ten minutes later that the fire alarm went off. In the kitchen pantry.”
“The kitchen?” Ed said, dropping his mouth open.
“Sweetie,” I tried, knowing why he’d already stepped back, his attention shooting through the mass of cars in our makeshift parking lot to the left side of the building and out on the side walk. But there was no brand new BMW that I saw. Chance and Aubrey had likely left before the fire.
“The marshal says they’re clearing the third floor now, but there’s a room at the end…” Alex said.
“It’s their room,” Ed said, grabbing his cell, his fingers already working over the screen.
“His friends?” Alex asked me as we both watched Ed, then turned when three firefighters shot out of the Victorian followed by the roar of flames and billowing smoke.
“Oh, Lord!” The windows along the third floor began to break, and we turned, taking two steps forward before a line of firemen stopped us, holding up their arms to keep us back.
“There’s nothing we can do right now. It’s too hot,” one of them told us, his face black with soot.
“My building…” I tried, that rotten feeling in my stomach coiling.
“Chance?” Ed yelled and I turned, that sensation of sick bubbling in my gut now as he walked away from the firemen, the cell at his ear.
“Miss Warren… can you think of anyone who might want to burn down your place?” I jerked my gaze back to the firefighter when I heard the question.
“What?”
“Ma’am, I’m sorry. I’m only going by what we saw in there. It was pretty obvious. Someone used an accelerant and they didn’t try to hide it. You got cameras?”
“I—yeah, of course I do.” Next to me Alex gripped my shoulder. It was the first time I hadn’t felt completely on my own in five years.
“And is there a security back up for them?”
“Yeah, in Mill Valley. That’s where the corporate security office is. They’ll have a feed of whoever was in there.” I turned, looking for Eliza, figuring by the way she sat next to the open fire hydrants on the wet sidewalk, her face drawn and shocked, that she’d be a little useless for statements.
“We’ll check with them tomorrow. I’m sure it will—”
“Hey, get back here!”
There was a shadow. Black silhouette. Long legs. Round, strong shoulders I spotted that ran right toward the side of the house not on fire. I could make out his frame, the shape of his body and, God help me, the long braid that swung behind him as he shimmied up the porch and onto the roofline.
“Ed! Oh my God! Eddie!”
“Oh hell no!” Alex ran after me, catching me around the middle, stopping me before I could follow Ed as he moved onto the top most trusses of the roof, avoiding the rotunda on the right and the burning shingles that fell from it like wax sliding off a lit candle.
“Eddie! Get down! Please! Oh my God, please!” The bile was in my throat now as I watched him crouch down, arms over his head, tearing off his jacket to wrap it around his hand. “Please. Eddie, please!” He didn’t look back before he found a window near the trusses and punch the glass in.
“What is he doing? That fool!” Alex’s grip got tighter when the firefighters pushed us back, standing in front of us. “Does he think they’re in there?”
“I don’t know. Oh God, Alex…I can’t….I just can’t…if he doesn’t come out of there…”
“Don’t say that.” He pulled me to his chest, his hand over my head as we watched the burning building. My brother’s heart hammered in my ear, his fingers shook against my face. “He’ll be back. He’ll be okay.” Alex loved Evie. He could never stand to see her hurt. She’d lost so much. I didn’t know if Alex would have the strength to tell his wife that her brother hadn’t come out of that burning building.
“Please, Eddie…oh, please…”
The song came to me then out of nowhere. Flashes of memory. Rhythm and music, coalescing in my thoughts, mingling with my fear.
Me and Eddie dancing to that sad, slow song.
Making the awful opposite.
The grass is blue.
And I could breathe without him.
No. I couldn’t.
I could live without him.
No. Never.
My life was worth living without him.
Not one damn second.
The tears came hard then, and I hid them in my brother’s shirt, burying my face against his chest. I couldn’t play that game anymore. Not without Eddie.
I didn’t want to.
From the side of the house, one of the firefighters shouted, calling to his co-workers, “Get a ladder!” and the sound ripped through my body.
“Piper! Look!” Alex pushed my shoulder, tipping my chin up and I followed his finger as he pointed to the roof, my throat clogging, my eyes swollen as Aubrey peeked out of the window first, followed immediately by Chance’s filthy blond head. The Aussie held his wife to his side, guiding her over the roofline, toward the waiting firefighters as they ran to fix the ladder toward the flameless side of the building.
But my attention locked onto that window. Waiting. Watching. My breath still. My heart racing like a jackhammer.
Where was he?
Eddie…you damn well better not—
Aubrey was on the ground, being lifted by a large firefighter while Chance barked complaints at the man from the center rung of the ladder before Ed finally staggered out of the window, weaving onto the roof line, coughing and wheezing into the waiting firemen who pulled him the rest of the way off the roof.
“Wait…hold on…” Alex tried when I started to break away, but I wouldn’t hear of it.
“To hell with that,” I told him, slapping his hand off my arm as I ran right to Eddie, already at the ambulance, being looked over by a paramedic, an oxygen mask covering his face.
“You can’t be in here…” the blonde paramedic tried, frowning at me when I climbed into the van anyway. “Piper…”
“Abigail Clemson, shut up. Is he okay?” I asked her, wiping the wetness from my face.
“I’m still assessing him, you stubborn ass, but he looks okay.” She leaned over Eddie, slipping the stethoscope into her ears, pushing the base against his heart. “His lungs sound good, but I don’t like the look of that burn.” It was a red, angry welt that ran along his neck and singed into the back of his scalp just behind his ear. “Looks superficial, but we still need to take him in. Damn fool. Who the hell runs into a burning building?”
“Somebody with friends who need a rescue,” I told her, sitting next to him when she closed the door and the engine cranked.
He blinked up at me, his smile weak, face filthy with soot.
“Their g
onna take you to Presbyterian Memorial,” I told him, still crying, still livid the damn fool’d played the hero. “Evie will kill you when she hears about this.” I sniffled, head shaking when he moved his chin up, looking resigned. “But she’ll have to wait till I get through with you!”
Again Ed nodded, grabbing my hand when I dipped my head, unable to look at him. Then he tugged me closer, touching my face, wiping the tears there dry with his thumb before he reached for his mask. “Don’t do that.” He motioned for me, and I leaned close, head shaking when I heard his question.
“He wants to know how his friends are.”
Abigail smiled, adjusting his oxygen. “Both being assessed in the other wagons but from what I hear, they’ll be fine.” She shook her head, a smile drifting on her mouth. “Who the hell would have figured? Eddie Mescal. Big damn hero.”
“Me,” I told her, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “He’s always been my hero.”
Three Years Later
Eddie
Tasso didn’t think three was too young to let a boy learn how to ride without a saddle.
“My grandson is strong,” he reasoned with Evie, getting only The She Glare, as Alex called it, something my kid sister had learned from Shímasani and Tasso pretended he hated seeing. He didn’t.
“Spit of her Shímasani,” he told me as Evie walked away after informing my grandfather that Lonan, my nephew, would ride ponies, not horses, with saddles, like the rest of his pre-school friends who had congregated on my sister’s ranch to celebrate the kid’s birthday.
“You could sneak off with him when she’s not looking,” I reasoned, making sure to keep my voice low in case my sister heard me. Kid sister or not, even I was a little scared of that She Glare.
“Shíyázhí,” he said, “you are her big brother and only a husband for one year.”
“I remember, Tasso. I was kneeling in front of you in that Hogan during the ceremony.”
“Even if you’re married to your beloved, and know your sister’s ways, you’ve still got a lot to learn about women.”
My bride decided just then would be the perfect time to make an appearance, moving out of the house carrying a tray of sandwiches and shooting me a smile that had me forgetting about She Glares and me being a little stupid about all things I didn’t know about women.
