Flames of Love

by Melissa Foster

  “In your gut?” Regan uncrossed his massive arms and shoved a finger into Cash’s stomach. “What’s going on in there?”

  Cash stared at him, breathing hard, wanting to push him out of his face—one hard shove—but that wouldn’t get the images to disappear. It had taken years to bury those images, and now…now they were back, and Cash saw himself in them.

  “I fucking hated him for putting us in that position. I wanted to beat the shit out of him and rescue him at the same time. I wanted to puke my guts up, and I wanted to kill someone. Hell, I wanted to kill everyone.”

  “And?” Regan yelled.

  “And he should have fucking known what he was doing to us. He knew the risks. He knew we couldn’t go in.” Cash panted, pacing again. He walked behind Tommy, who was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands buried in the sides of his thick hair, and he remembered the weeks that followed. The promise he’d made Tommy swear to. Man, if I ever turn into the guy who does that, drag my ass out of this unit.

  Regan closed the distance between them, stopping Cash from pacing any farther. Cash had six inches on Regan, and still Regan’s presence was that of a brick fucking building. Impossibly wide shoulders, massive arms, and a stare that would knock the wind out of many men.

  “And now you tell me how what you’re doing is any different.” His command came with a calm voice, though his eyes were cold and harsh. Without turning, he pointed at Tommy, holding Cash’s stare. “Tell me, Ryder.” He stepped closer. So close, Cash could see his pupils dilate, could smell coffee on his breath, and could feel his anger filling the slither of space between them, thick and inescapable.

  Cash shifted his eyes to Tommy, then back at Regan. The truth sent a piercing pain through his body. He opened his mouth to respond: There’s no fucking difference. Point made. I’m an ass. I’ll fix it. No words came.

  “You have three seconds to tell me how it’s different, Ryder. I’m not a patient man.”

  “It’s not fucking different. Okay? I get it.” He pushed past Regan, knocking into his shoulder on the way.

  Regan grabbed his arm and spun him around. “I didn’t dismiss you.” He moved in on him again, a breath away. “Now, you tell me what you saw when Tooler came out.”

  Bradleyt. Cash’s muscles tensed. His legs were rooted to the floor. He forced himself to answer through gritted teeth. “He crawled out…dragging the guy alongside him.”

  “More.”

  Fuck you.

  “Two seconds,” Regan pushed.

  “You want to know what I remember? I’ll fucking tell you. The smell of burned flesh—I can still smell it.” He rounded his shoulders forward, fisted his hands. “The guy was dead. He saved a dead man and lost his life.”

  “How?” Regan took a step closer, backing Cash up toward the concrete wall.

  Cash’s body told him to knock Regan out of his way and outrun the memory. His mind knew it was impossible.

  “Details.”

  Cash looked away.

  “Ryder!”

  He snapped his attention back to Regan’s flaring nostrils and angry stare. “In the hospital. Burns over ninety percent of his body, his family by his side, drugged to escape the pain.”

  “Did you see his wife? His kids?”

  He’d never forget the devastation in their eyes or the pain that was still present every holiday when Cathy Tooler brought gift baskets to the station. He couldn’t forget his little girls’ tears that couldn’t have been stopped by anything other than their daddy being healed, and the way the two of them, five and seven at the time, clung to each other, as if they couldn’t remain erect if not for the other’s legs.

  “Yes,” was all he could manage.

  “You tell me, Ryder. Do you want your unit going through that? Your brothers? Do you want them to make a choice between saving your ass and saving their own?” Rhetorical questions, spoken as if they were each beaten into him with a hammer. Regan walked around to the other side of the desk and pulled out a photograph from the drawer. He threw it across the desk to Cash. “What do you see?”

  Cash shifted his eyes and remained where he stood, a few inches beside where Tommy sat.

  “My unit.” The guys I love. My brothers. Aw, hell.

  “What else?” He repeatedly tapped his index finger on to the picture.

  “Brothers. Trust. Loyalty. Courage. Bravery,” Cash shot back. He ran his hand through his hair to break the streak of anger between them. It didn’t work.

  “Your risk taking puts every one of those guys in the same damn place, Ryder.” His stare softened just enough for Cash to become aware of the man he was beneath the fury. The man he respected. The man who taught him to respect the beast and the men whose lives depended on him.

  Cash set a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and felt the knotted muscles beneath his palm. No matter how he tried to formulate a response, the words felt wrong. I know indicated that he knew what he was doing when he did it. The truth was, at those moments, his mind went blank. It shot back to the guys pulling him away from saving Samuel Miller. I’m sorry would be worthless spoken to Regan, and maybe even to Tommy. Words felt too weak for the shame and sorrow that he felt. Regan was one hundred percent correct, and it slayed Cash to know that he’d risked putting his friends in such an awful position.

  “Sit down.” Regan nodded to the chair beside Tommy.

  Relieved for the direction, Cash did as he was told.

  “You got a girlfriend, Ryder?”

  Cash rubbed his tattoo as he answered, silently swearing he’d never let Tooler’s images get away from him again. He needed that reminder. “Yeah.”

  “New relationship? Old?”

  “New.”

  Regan leaned across the desk. “The next time you go into a fire, I want you to ask yourself if you want to see that woman’s face standing over you in the hospital—or worse—standing beside you when you’re visiting a fellow firefighter in the hospital because of some stunt you pulled. We clear?”

  When Cash first began as a firefighter, it was his family’s images that he kept in his mind as he prepared for each rescue. He told himself it was them in the fire. That’s what kept him focused and allowed him to push the fear away—because fear existed no matter how often he and the guys pretended it didn’t. Now it would be Siena’s face he’d picture, and she wouldn’t be in need of rescue. He’d picture her waiting for him safely away from the fire. Waiting for him to come back to her. Holy hell, how hadn’t he realized how much he wanted that until just then?

  Chapter Sixteen

  SIENA SAT ON her couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table staring at the front page of Us Daily with her cell phone pressed to her ear, listening to Jewel rave about the exposure. The headlines read, Is It Love?

  “Jewel, this is such garbage. I read all about Gunner. He’s fixing his rep with me, and…I can’t believe this will do anything other than ruin mine.”

  She’d gotten up early to scour the gossip magazines down at the café. She’d ignored Bogey’s disapproving headshake while she’d paid for a handful of them. She wasn’t front-page news on the other magazines, but she was a few pages in and mentioned on the cover. Hot new couple! Gunner Gibson scores Siena Remington. Her stomach had been off ever since she brought them home and memorized every word of the articles. She felt dirty and ashamed to have faked the date. She kept flashing to Cash’s face, the way he’d looked so stricken when she’d first told him what she had to do and the way he’d spun it in his head to try to get past it. Getting past an idea was one thing. Getting past seeing your girlfriend on the front page of a magazine kissing another man was another.

  “Look, we all know you’re a top model this week, but it’s a fickle business.” Jewel sighed. “You know all this, Siena.”

  “You know what? I don’t think it is. I have solid contracts with Chanel, H&M, and Revlon. I’ve been one of your top models forever and this…” She tossed the magazine onto the coffee table with a si
gh. “It just makes me feel cheap.”

  “Funny. It’ll have the opposite effect on your contracts.”

  She pictured Jewel touching her hair, sitting with her legs crossed, looking out the window of her penthouse apartment with a satisfied grin on her thin lips.

  “Well, it’s done. At least that’s good. Now I can go back to my normal life.” And forget about the stupid picture. Another call interrupted theirs, and Siena glanced at the screen. Savannah. Great.

  “Well, not exactly. You need to meet Gunner again. His agent called this morning, and Gunner’s popularity rank soared after the picture came out. You’re trending on Twitter. Did you know that?”

  Oh God. “No, I didn’t, and if we’re gaining that much attention, why do I have to meet him again? Have you met him? He’s a pig.” Siena had a Twitter account, but she rarely used it, and it was the last thing she wanted to check as she thought of the headlines all over the Internet. How could she even ask Cash to deal with something like that? She wasn’t sure she would be able to do the same for him.

  “A handsome pig. It’s not like it’s a hardship for you. Spend an hour pretending you’re having a good time. Dinner. Later this week.”

  Siena lowered her feet to the floor and pulled her hair over one shoulder, then ran her fingers through the ends. “Jewel.”

  “One more date. That’s it. One dinner to feed the media.”

  One dinner. One night. She wanted to refuse so badly she could hear the word coming from her lips, but she was in this deep. The damage was already done.

  “Fine. But this is the last time.”

  “I’ll text you the details. Remember, Siena, keep your eye on the prize.”

  Unfortunately, Siena was beginning to think that she and Jewel had different ideas of what that prize was. The prize she was thinking of came in an attitude-laden, six-foot-four handsome package of sheer masculinity on the outside and mushy romantic on the inside.

  After she ended the call with Jewel, she read the texts that had come in while she’d been talking. Willow’s was the first to appear. You didn’t tell me? Then she read a text from Savannah. Call me! And she had a voicemail from her mother. She texted Willow first. Spur of moment. Will catch up w/u l8r. K?

  Her phone vibrated before she could make a decision about who to call first, Savannah or her mother.

  Fine. Just 1 question. Did u spend the night alone? Siena loved Willow, but she wasn’t the type of friend she could spill her guts to. Willow loved drama too much, and she had loose lips, and while Siena liked drama, she hated being the center of this type of drama. She texted back. YES! More l8r. Gotta run. Xox.

  She answered a knock at the door, and when she saw the FedEx man through the peephole, it took her a minute to remember that she’d asked Treat for the photos of Savannah. She opened the door, accepted the package, and when she closed the door behind her, she leaned against it, wondering why Cash hadn’t texted her. He could be busy. She had no idea what firemen did all day. Surely they couldn’t be out rescuing people every minute. She remembered his sooty body, hyped up with adrenaline, pressed against her the evening before, and a shudder ran through her.

  Her phone rang, pulling her out of her thoughts. Savannah.

  “Oh my God. You went out with Gunner Gibson and didn’t tell me?”

  “I was just about to return your call.” Siena sat on the couch and opened the package, smiling as she leafed through the pictures of Savannah.

  “How did you even connect with him? He’s my friend Aida’s client and he’s a handful, Siena. You’d be better off with the smart-ass fireman than Gunner.”

  Siena felt like she and Cash had been together longer than a few days, and it felt weird that Savannah didn’t know about them yet. She reminded herself that no one knew about him yet—except her mother. And the guys at the station, according to Cash.

  “Yeah, about him…” She bit her lower lip, contemplating what to say about Cash. “I’m actually dating him now.”

  Savannah laughed. “No way! Jack told me there was something in the way you talked about him that made him think you liked him.”

  “Really? How could there have been? I didn’t even know I liked him in that way.” She remembered how Cash had met her at the bottom of the stairs and how her heart had leaped into her throat and the way her body had reacted to being so close to him.

  “If you’d seen me when I first met Jack…Oh my God, Siena. He was so abrasive, but there was this underlying current that was too strong to turn away from. You didn’t feel any of that with Cash? Because Jack bet me twenty bucks that you’d end up dating him.”

  “My brother bet on me?” She couldn’t imagine Jack doing that. Building a brick wall between her and any man, she could see, but betting on her? No way.

  “He liked him. He said you guys reminded him of me and him. But if you’re dating him—”

  “Cash.”

  “Sorry. If you’re dating Cash, why were you out with Gunner?”

  “It’s a long story.” And I can’t tell you anyway. She set the pictures down on the couch. “Are you excited about your bridal shower?”

  “Yeah. More about seeing everyone than the actual shower. I’m excited about seeing my dad. I haven’t seen him in a few months.” The shower was going to be at her father’s ranch in Weston, Colorado.

  “Well, I can’t wait. I’m excited to see everyone, too.”

  They talked for a few more minutes about the shower, and after ending the call, Siena debated texting Cash. She was torn between calling him and talking about the pictures and texting him and acting as though the meeting with Gunner, and the pictures, never happened. Of course, he might be avoiding her because he’d seen the pictures. They were supposed to see each other in a few hours, and she had no idea where they were meeting. The perfect excuse to text. Only a few hrs until I get 2 see u. Where do u want 2 meet?

  Her stomach fluttered nervously as she waited for him to respond. Ten minutes later she worried he’d seen the pictures and was having second thoughts. She sank down on the couch, let her head fall back, and closed her eyes. When her phone vibrated five minutes later with a text from Cash, she was afraid to read it. She stared at the message indicator, then set the phone in her lap and twisted the ends of her hair. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. Just read it.

  She picked the phone back up and held her breath as she read the text. Ur place? Around 6?

  She should be relieved that it didn’t say he couldn’t make it. Or to bug off completely because of the pictures, but she wasn’t relieved. She had hoped for something more. Miss you? Can’t wait? Anything to indicate he was glad to be meeting her. Oh my God, I’m overthinking again. He’s a guy. Guys don’t do that. Having eased her mind enough to respond, she texted back. Perfect. Can’t wait.

  Siena called her mother to let her know that she had the pictures from Treat. She’d kept the interior pages of the photo album and her mother had taken the wooden binder home to decorate.

  “Hi, Mom. I got the pictures of Savannah.”

  “Oh, good, honey. I have Jack’s right here. I’ll have to bring them to you. Oh, dear, I’m not sure when I can get into the city.”

  “Just FedEx them. That’s what Treat did. I’ll have them by Tuesday or Wednesday. I can’t get out to your house before that anyway.”

  “Okay, that’s smart. I’ll do that. How are you otherwise?”

  Siena walked to the window and looked outside, wishing she could take back the time she’d spent with Gunner. To the rest of the family it would just look like she’d gone on a date with him, but her mother knew the truth. And so did she, and the truth of it made her stomach feel sick again.

  Might as well get it over with. “I guess you saw the pictures?”

  “I haven’t seen them in print, but I saw them online. It looked like you had a nice time.”

  That was her mother’s way. She wouldn’t make Siena feel bad, and she wouldn’t assume anything negative. She’d a
llow Siena to reveal what she wanted to reveal. The problem was, with her mother she rarely needed to reveal anything. Her mother could read her voice better than anyone ever could.

  “Not really.” Siena turned her back to the window. “He’s a dumb, jocky jerk.”

  Her mother laughed. “The kiss didn’t look like you felt that way.”

  “Ugh. I hate this. The whole thing is so ridiculous. It’s a ruse, nothing more.”

  “I suppose, but do you think Cash will see it that way?”

  She sighed. “I don’t know. I ended up telling him it was a fake date, so you should be glad that I listened to you.”

  “I’m glad you listened to your heart, or your conscience, whatever drove you to be honest with him instead of leaving him in the dark. You can’t build a relationship on legs made of lies.”

  Siena sighed. She just hoped she had a relationship left to worry about.

  Chapter Seventeen

  CASH FINISHED PUTTING away the groceries he’d brought for Vetta, then sat on her sofa thinking about his meeting with Regan. He couldn’t believe he’d blocked out the very thoughts he’d gotten the tattoo to remember. He looked down at the tattoo and traced the sharp lines, and his mind moved to Samuel and the instant he’d realized that he wasn’t going to be able to save him.

  He looked at Vetta’s bedroom door. She’d excused herself to take care of something, and he could hear her moving around in there. While he waited, his mind drifted back to that awful day. He could almost feel the heat of the flames licking at his back a foot from the entrance to their burning apartment. He’d heard a crack and looked up as a beam, engulfed in flames, came crashing through the ceiling, bringing flaming debris with it, blocking the entrance to the apartment and missing Cash by inches. Someone tugged at his arm, pulling him away from the apartment. He pushed forward, and someone grabbed his other arm. He spun around. There’s a guy in there! I can get him! Tommy shook his head, shouted something Cash couldn’t make out. He pointed to the ceiling. Cash knew the risks. One beam down, flames covering what was left of the ceiling—they had a minute, maybe, before it came tumbling down. He could do it. He could get in there, grab the guy, and get out—but he was being dragged down the stairs. No! Let me go! He fought against them. He’d saved the man’s wife and she’d pleaded, My husband. Please, get my husband. He has a weak heart.