Flames of Love

by Melissa Foster

  “Great.” Siena forced her best smile and pushed the photographs across the desk.

  “Let me know by the end of the day which one of these guys you want to go out with and I’ll arrange it. And of course, I’ll tip off the paparazzi, too.”

  The idea of going out with an athlete turned her stomach, but not as much as knowing that Jewel, whom she trusted with her career, was the one pushing for the date. Jewel had never made dating the men she suggested feel so critical before. She’d never tied it in as blatantly to Siena’s future success. She valued their relationship, and she believed that Jewel had always been looking out for her best interests, but now? She wasn’t so sure. “You pick and let me know.”

  CASH STOOD OUTSIDE Vetta Miller’s apartment with a bouquet of daisies and a fresh bowl of spaghetti with meatballs, one of the few dishes Cash knew how to cook. He adjusted his long-sleeve shirt and cleared his throat before knocking. He listened for Vetta’s slow shuffle, heard the click of the dead bolt, the slide of the chain, and the click of the second dead bolt. The door opened slowly, and Cash waited for Vetta to lift her gray eyes and meet his gaze.

  “Cash,” she said with a smile.

  Always with a smile, which tugged at his heart and tightened the noose of guilt that hung heavily around his neck at all times. Her silver hair was twisted into a loose bun. Her deeply wrinkled round cheeks trembled a little with her smile. Vetta shuffled to the side of the doorway in her slippers, allowing Cash to enter the small apartment.

  “Come in, sweetie. You look so handsome today.”

  “Thank you, Vetta.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek as he walked into the apartment. Cash had been visiting Vetta for the past few weeks, and he still couldn’t nail down the smell in her apartment. It was a cross between mothballs and chicken soup. Every surface in the small living room was covered with doilies. Much of what Vetta owned had been lost in the fire, and though she was now living in a different apartment, the sofa, upholstered chair, and coffee table looked like new teeth in an old mouth.

  Cash looked away as he passed the black-and-white photographs of Vetta and Samuel hanging on the wall in the living room.

  “I’ve brought you spaghetti and meatballs. Would you like me to put it in the kitchen? Heat it up for you?”

  Vetta settled into a thickly upholstered chair beside a reading light. “How lovely. Thank you, but I’m not very hungry. Perhaps you could just put it in the fridge for me?” She made a little humming sound as he opened the fridge and put the dish inside. He noticed that there weren’t many groceries in the fridge.

  “Do you need me to make a run to the grocery store for you?” He returned to the living room and sat on the couch, feeling Samuel’s eyes on him from his perch on the wall. He lifted his gaze to the old man’s portrait. Samuel was ninety-two years old when he perished in the fire that would haunt Cash forever. He swallowed against the lump in his throat.

  “Aren’t you a dear for offering, but no, thank you. I have enough for the week.” The sleeves of her black sweater fell to the middle of her thickly veined hands. She lifted a shaky hand and settled it atop Cash’s hand. “How are you, Cash?”

  She held his gaze, and in her silence he heard a million accusations. Vetta had never blamed Cash for Samuel’s death, but that didn’t mean that Cash didn’t blame himself, or assume she secretly did as well. He drew his eyes from the picture on the wall to her heavily hooded eyes.

  “I’m well. How are you, Vetta? Is there anything I can get you? Do you need the trash taken out? Your heat adjusted?” It was always too warm in her apartment. Cash didn’t know what Samuel had taken care of before the fire, so he tried to do as much as he could to help her. Vetta didn’t have any children, and he hated knowing she was alone. No matter what Cash did, it would never be enough to fill the void of losing her husband of sixty-seven years.

  “Oh, you know, there is a box of pictures in the bedroom closet that I would love to see, but they’re too heavy for me to take down. And the heater in there seems to be stuck on high.”

  Cash was on his feet and across the room in seconds. “I’ll fix that right up.” He stood at the edge of the bedroom, staring at the double bed, and felt his heart squeeze. Anger clawed at the back of his neck. He pushed himself to enter the bedroom and check the heater, which clicked down to low without hesitation. Then he opened the closet doors, where a handful of clothes hung from wire hangers, two pairs of orthopedic shoes neatly placed beneath them. He grabbed the cardboard shoe box from the top shelf and hurried back into the living room.

  “You are such a doll. Just set it down here.” He put the shoe box on the coffee table. The box was filled with envelopes of all sizes and colors. “Would you be a dear and hand me the envelope there? The blue one?”

  He grabbed the blue envelope nearest the top. Handwritten in pencil on the front of the envelope was 1967. He handed it to her.

  “Ah, yes. Each of these envelopes represents a year we were together. Some of them have a few years, because you know, it’s hard to catalog a year. Some years only have three or four pictures, and honestly, some years aren’t even in there. Life goes by so fast. Sometimes twelve months would go by in the blink of an eye, and we’d realize we hadn’t taken a single picture.” Her arthritic fingers wrestled with the photos as she withdrew them. “In 1967 Samuel was still working as a doctor at the hospital. That was before his eyesight began to fail. He cared for a boy—Paul was his name.” She handed Cash a photograph of Samuel with a little boy. Dressed in a lab coat, Samuel was wearing a wide smile, his arm draped over the little boy’s shoulder.

  “Paul’s cute.”

  “Yes, he was.” She caught Cash’s gaze and held it. “Paul’s heart was bad, and there was a procedure that might or might not save him. Samuel and Paul’s family had to make a very difficult decision.” She paused and shifted her eyes away, as if she were watching a scene unfold before her eyes. “Funny how pictures can jog a memory.”

  Cash’s muscles tensed.

  “They proceeded with the surgery, and Paul made it through, for a day or two, and then his little heart gave out.” She knitted her brows together and lowered her eyes to the photograph. “Samuel was eaten up over his passing.”

  Cash dropped his eyes to the floor. “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, honey, there was nothing anyone could do. Samuel did the best he could.” She covered Cash’s hand with her own. “That’s all anyone can ever ask.”

  I didn’t do the best I could. I should have fought harder to get into the apartment and save him. Cash had a stellar record. Nobody died on his watch. Until Samuel. Cash’s pulse sped up. He sensed that she was telling him the story to make him feel better, but guilt gripped his chest, heavy and dense, just like the beam that had kept him from making the rescue. Inescapable. Cash took a deep breath. Samuel was trapped. Anger and guilt coalesced, sending him to his feet.

  She squeezed his hand as he rose.

  “Vetta, I’m sorry…”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for, dear. Samuel believed strongly that when it was time, it was time. Everyone has an expiration date, Cash. We just don’t know when it is.” She smiled, and Cash choked behind a cough. “Goodness, are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes.” He coughed again, trying to dislodge the lump that had settled in his throat. “I…uh…” He eyed the box. “Would you like me to put these in an album for you? Something you can flip through, maybe?”

  “You don’t have to do that, Cash.”

  “I’d like to.” She’d lost her husband because he’d been weak, unprepared. He should have anticipated the beam burning through and moved faster instead of taking the time to look up and assess the ceiling. The least he could do was make it easier to keep Samuel’s memory alive. “I’ll bring these back as soon as I can. Are you sure you don’t want me to warm up that spaghetti?”

  “No, thank you.” She rose to her feet, pressed her thin lips together, and her gaze softened. “Cash, tell m
e about your work before you go. Did the storm bring many emergencies?”

  He clenched his jaw. “I wasn’t on duty.”

  “So you didn’t have to rescue anyone?” Her gray eyes didn’t stray from his.

  “Yeah. I actually did. A woman ran off a back road just outside the city. I rescued her.” And she was a big pain in my ass.

  “With your unit?”

  “No. I was on my way to see my brother. It was after my shift.” My shift. Cash took pride in being a firefighter, and he knew that Tommy was right. The guys had been giving him shit for taking unnecessary risks and going too far during rescues. It was only a matter of time before the chief put him on desk duty to handle administrative paperwork, supplies, coordination of schedules. It just about killed him thinking about the very real possibility. He had to pull his shit together. The thought of the alarm sounding and the clamor of the men slamming their feet into their boots and shouting to one another and knowing he wouldn’t be leaving with them made his gut burn. But he’d be damned if he could stop taking the risks that—ever since Samuel’s death—seemed vital. He had less to lose than the other guys. Almost every one of them had a girlfriend or a wife, and they risked their lives every day because it was the nature of their job. Lately, Cash had taken that to the extreme, leaving his partner behind and ignoring orders to evacuate when there was still a victim inside. And now, standing with Vetta, he felt the air being sucked from his lungs. He had to get out of there. He picked up the box and she touched his arm.

  “Cash, I’m sure that woman was very thankful.”

  He thought of the venom in Siena’s eyes when he’d told her to get back into the car, the way he could barely think when he was leaning over her in the truck, and the way she thanked him without even meeting his eyes. She’s anything but thankful. “She’s unharmed. That’s all that matters.”

  Chapter Four

  NIGHTCAPS WAS AS busy as ever when Siena arrived. She wasn’t a big drinker, but after the day she’d had, she jumped at the chance to meet her brothers Dex and Sage and Sage’s girlfriend, Kate, for a good, stiff drink. She weaved through the crowd and found them at a booth in the back of the bar. Dex waved and she felt instant relief. Her brothers had that effect on her. They’d always been there for her, and tonight she could think of no place she’d rather be. She hung her coat on the end of the booth and slid in beside Dex.

  “You look determined.” Dex scanned her face. “Bad day on the runway?”

  “Ha-ha. Hey, Sage, Kate. Where’s Ellie?” Dex had recently been reunited with a friend from their childhood, Ellie Parker, and Siena had been the only one in the family not to know they’d been madly in love with each other for years. Well, Siena and apparently Dex, but he figured it out pretty fast, while Siena was left dumfounded. She adored Ellie, but as Dex’s twin, she was shocked that she didn’t have some sort of twin intuition. A sixth sense or something.

  “She’s working with the other teachers on the software project.” Ellie was a teacher who specialized in education for low-income kids. She’d won a grant to develop an educational software program specifically aimed toward low-income children. She and several other teachers were working with Dex and a few of his employees to develop the program.

  “Wow. She’s working late. She’s really jumped in feet first.”

  “What’re you drinking?” Sage asked. He’d cut his dark curls when he’d gone to Belize, where he met Kate, and now they were growing back, framing his handsome face. Siena had always been envious of his thick, curly hair. And now, watching him with his arm around Kate, she was envious of their relationship, too. Their love was a painful reminder of what Jewel was making her do.

  “Something strong enough that you guys are going to have to walk me home.” Siena picked up Dex’s beer and took a sip.

  “That bad?” Kate’s long dark hair fell over her shoulder as she reached across the table and touched Siena’s hand. The sleeve of her navy-blue sweater flared at the end and covered all but her fingertips. “Anything Sage and I can do?”

  Kate had been living with Sage since they returned from Belize, where Kate had been running a nonprofit program for artists to aid newly developing nations. Sage had joined the project, and recently, they had founded their own nonprofit. Siena had never seen her brother look happier, and Kate had already become like a sister to her. She was warm, friendly, smart, and industrious, but what Siena loved most about her was that she was as genuinely caring as Sage was, and completely disinterested in his wealth. She longed to find someone who would love her for who she was and not what she had.

  “Not unless you can erase the memory of a really handsome asshole from my mind, convince my agent that I shouldn’t date an athlete, and explain to the rental car company...Oh, never mind.” She sighed and rested her head on Dex’s shoulder. “I’m glad you guys are here.”

  Sage returned with a shot of tequila and a glass of sangria. “To soothe my baby sister’s soul.” He leaned over and kissed her head.

  “Thanks, Sage. I can’t do a shot by myself.” She eyed each of them, and they all held their hands up.

  “I’ve got a meeting with Mitch and Regina in about an hour, and I’m three beers deep already.” Dex’s hair hung over his eyes. He wore a black T-shirt emblazoned with some PC game character on the front.

  “Lightweight,” Siena teased.

  “I’m painting tonight, so one more beer and Kate and I are out of here.” Sage shrugged.

  She should have guessed. He had on one of his many paint-streaked long-sleeve shirts. “So I’m on my own?” Siena sighed. “Fine.” She sprinkled salt on her hand, licked it, then sucked back the tequila and chased it with sangria. “Ah. That’s a start.”

  “Wanna tell us about the handsome asshole?” Dex pulled her close. “Want me and Sage to take someone out?”

  “Ugh. I ran off the road last night in a rental car, and—”

  “Wait. Stop.” Dex pulled back from her with an angry look in his eye. “You were out in that storm? What were you thinking?”

  “Siena, really?” Sage took a swig of his drink.

  “Sage, don’t be so judgmental.” Kate crossed her arms. “Siena, really?”

  Siena laughed. “Okay, so it was stupid. Willow called me from her parents’ house and invited me for dinner, and I’d just gotten home and had three messages from that jerk I went out with last week. The snow wasn’t that bad when I left…” The snow wasn’t that bad when she’d rented the car, but it was definitely bad within minutes of leaving the rental car parking lot.

  Kate shook her head. “That’s really dangerous.”

  “Thanks. I wish you would have told me that before I went over the edge of the road,” Siena said with a sigh.

  “But you were okay? Jesus, Siena.” Dex pulled her close again.

  “Yeah, fine, until this smart-ass fireman rescued me.”

  “You were rescued by a smart-ass fireman? Sounds good to me.” Jack’s fiancée, Savannah, pulled up two chairs to the end of the booth. She was tall and slim with thick, auburn hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Savannah was an entertainment attorney, and she must have come directly from the office, because she wore black slacks and a white silk blouse beneath a tailored jacket.

  “Hey.” Jack towered over Savannah and tugged on her hand with a teasing scowl. At six four, he always towered. Like Cash. “Hey, Siena.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek, then held a hand out toward Kate, who was too far away to hug. “Kate, good to see you.”

  “Hi,” Kate said.

  “Hi, Jack.” Siena had hoped to avoid Jack finding out about her accident. He was so protective of her that she knew she’d be in for a lecture.

  They settled into their chairs. “Tell me about the sexy fireman.” Savannah shot a glance at Jack. “I just want to get caught up. No one is sexier than my survivor man.” She wrapped her hand around the back of Jack’s neck and kissed him.

  “Smart-ass fireman,” Siena corrected. “He lai
d into me about not being prepared and…” And then leaned over me and nearly drowned me with his virility. She cleared her throat. “And he was really sweet when he was guiding me to safety, but then once I was safe, he was just an ass.”

  Savannah glanced at Jack.

  “What?” Jack wrinkled his brow.

  “Sounds like something you did when we first met.” Savannah kissed the back of Jack’s hand, which she held in her lap. “Jack was all over the place when we first met.”

  “I was a broken man, no doubt.” He took a swig of his beer. “But you healed me.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her temple. “Sometimes arrogant men make the best partners, or at least that’s what I’m told.”

  “No, thank you,” Siena said. She leaned against Dex’s shoulder. “I want romance and sweetness. I want to be treated like you guys treat Ellie, Kate, and Savannah.”

  Kate and Savannah exchanged a glance.

  “What?” Siena asked.

  “I think that look was supposed to mean that we’re not all romance and sweetness. Besides, do you really want a pushover? Siena, you’re a strong woman.” Sage leaned back and held Kate’s hand. “You’re not a wallflower. You need a guy who can stand up to you when you get…”

  Siena narrowed her eyes.

  “When you get the way you get.” Sage lifted his beer bottle. “You know I love you.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Siena looked around the table. “Come on. Am I a bitch?”

  “Oh my God, no.” Savannah narrowed her green eyes and smacked Jack’s arm. “Tell her she’s not a bitch. You guys are awful.”

  “You are not a bitch, Siena. In fact, you’re hardly ever bitchy. But if you hook up with a guy who’s not a challenge, you’ll be bored in a week.”