Crazy, Hot Love

by K. L. Grayson

  What would’ve happened to Milo if I’d been seriously injured or worse…

  I shudder at the thought. It wasn’t responsible to take her in.

  But I’ll never forget the shock on Mo’s face when I showed up at Animal Haven.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said, refusing to take the dog.

  “Trust me, she’s better off,” I told her. “Better it happens now before she gets any more attached to me.”

  “She’s already very attached to you.”

  “She’s still young. She’ll forget.”

  Mo just stared at me like I’d grown a second head, and because I was in such a dark place, I simply set Milo down and walked away, ignoring her as she chased after me.

  It’s not something I’m proud of, but I didn’t know what else to do.

  The darkness has faded a bit since then, but it hasn’t completely gone away. I just can’t seem to let go of the guilt. It’s eating at me. Though I didn’t want to, I’ve tried to talk to both my mom and Mo about it. I’ve even talked to my friend Tess, but no one gets it. They tell me I don’t need to feel the way I do, that my feelings are unwarranted, and I shouldn’t carry that guilt around. But they don’t understand that it isn’t a choice. I’d structured my life, my choices, myself around making my father proud, and then I messed up. The shame is embedded inside of me, and while objectively I realize it’s exaggerated, I can’t let it go.

  Our tutoring sessions were suspended for a week—and I did think about never, ever going back—but I’m forcing myself to move forward. I have to keep showing up for those kids. Maybe eventually I’ll redeem myself. Anyway, for now, we’re temporarily working out of the elementary school while Bright Start waits for its new building to become ready. Even though it’s a different building on the opposite side of town, every time I switch from my teaching role to my tutoring role and see my students’ faces, I think about the fire and how I hesitated, and then how I forgot those boys.

  The alarm went off, and rather than rushing the kids out like I should’ve done—like I was taught to do—I assumed it was a prank and asked them to sit down. That was mistake number one. And then came the twins. Their mom brought me cookies when tutoring resumed to thank me for running in after her boys. We both started crying—her because her kids could’ve died that day, and me because I forgot her boys were in the bathroom and didn’t have the courage to tell her. If they’d died, it would’ve been my fault, and that’s something I have to live with.

  But that’s not the worst of it. I have to drive past the firehouse to get to work every morning, and every time I pass, I’m hit with a fresh wave of guilt over Trevor’s injuries. The way he looked at me and talked to me that day in the hospital room is all I think about. It’s clear he was upset, and he has every right to be, but I was trying to make things right. I wanted to show my appreciation, but he didn’t want any part of it.

  And to add insult to injury, he doesn’t seem at all affected or changed by the few minutes we spent alone together in that bathroom at Animal Haven. Foolishly, I thought the next chance he got, he’d pull me into his arms and tell me we never should’ve been apart and whatever this was brewing between us, we needed to figure it out.

  That didn’t happen, and I don’t even know what to think about that. Probably it’s for the best, but it doesn’t feel that way. I don’t know where I stand with my dating rules now, because dating is about the furthest thing from my mind.

  Since walking out of his hospital room three weeks ago, my emotions have been running on an endless cycle, and I can’t seem to process them. Mom has mentioned talking to a counselor. Maybe I need to consider that. She’s also suggested I talk to Trevor about how I’m feeling, but there’s no way I can do that. Not after our last conversation.

  I haven’t seen Trevor since that day in the hospital. I haven’t seen much of anyone, actually, because I’ve secluded myself. I don’t want people to see the shell of a woman I’ve become. I go to work, come home, and other than a weekly trip to Wal-Mart, there isn’t much I do. Netflix has become my best friend. I see my mom and Mo about once a week—although they call me every day—and that’s only because they force themselves into my home. Coop brought me pizza one night, and as soon I busted into tears, he was out the door.

  Rhett showed up on my doorstep a week ago to try to convince me to take Milo back, said she wouldn’t stop crying, but I shut the door in his face. Not my finest moment, but what did he expect was going to happen? After that day, I forbade Mo from mentioning Milo or sending me pictures of her—which she did often—and I threatened her within an inch of her life if anyone showed up on my doorstep again with the dog.

  “I just really want my friend back,” Mo says, pulling me out of my head.

  I sigh. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Things have changed. I’m in a funk, and I don’t know how to dig myself out of it.”

  “Don’t apologize. And you don’t need to know how; that’s what you have me for.”

  “Mo,” I sigh. “I told you, I’m really not in the mood to—”

  “Do you trust me, Claire?” she interrupts.

  “Yes.”

  “And don’t you want to get back to your normal life?”

  “Of course, but it’s not that easy.”

  “It is that easy. You just have to start living again. You have to remind yourself that you have things to live for, people in your life who love you and miss you.”

  “Mo…”

  “And I’m going to help you.”

  Oh boy. “I’m afraid to ask.”

  She grins. “We’re going to start by getting you a nice hot shower, and then we’re going to Dirty Dicks. Coop promised to make you your favorite sandwich—”

  “A turkey bacon club.” My stomach growls and Mo laughs. Dirty Dicks has the best food, and it’s been weeks since I ate there. “No tomato, extra mayo, a double order of fries, and a side of pickles.”

  “That’s the one, and it’s my treat.”

  “I don’t know, Mo. It sounds good, and I’ll admit that it would be nice to get out of the house, but I’m not sure I’m ready to see everyone.”

  “It’s just me and you, babe. Coop is working, and Tess went to visit her family.”

  “Really? Tess doesn’t talk about her family much. I wasn’t even sure if she had anyone she was close to.”

  Mo frowns. “She’s pretty tight lipped about them, that’s for sure. I’ve tried getting her to open up a few times, but I don’t get anywhere.”

  Maybe she’s not ready to open up. “One of these days you’ll get through to her.”

  “Maybe. But right now, I’m focused on you. Come on, it’ll be just the two of us.”

  “Rhett?”

  “He’s helping his dad on the ranch.”

  “What about Trevor?”

  “What about him?”

  Mo smiles and waits for me. Bitch. I should’ve known she wouldn’t give up information that easily. I never told her what happened between Trevor and me, but she suspects something, and I think she’s still holding out hope that I’ll cave and give her details.

  I take a deep breath and pick at the hem of my shirt. “How is he?”

  Mo rests her hand on my arm. “He’s good. Back to his old self, working a full schedule and helping out on the ranch.”

  “Good. That’s good. I’m glad to hear that.”

  “He asks about you all the time.”

  I look up. “Really?” That’s shocking.

  Mo nods and sits on the bed next to me. “Really. He’s always asking how you’re doing and where you are. He made a comment the other night that he hasn’t seen you since the fire. I think he misses you,” she says, nudging me.

  A real smile threatens my face, not one of those fake ones I’ve been plastering on. It’s a foreign feeling, and I quickly push it away.

  “He does not,” I scoff.

  “He does too. I could call him, get him to meet us for dinner, if you’d like.�
��

  “No.” I answer a little too quickly, and Mo’s brows shoot up.

  “Come on,” she coaxes. “I know you like him, and since he won’t shut up about you, I’m guessing he likes you too. Maybe this is what you need, a good romp.”

  “A romp?”

  “Yeah, you know, a one-night stand. Some sexy times between the sheets. I bet Trevor could pound you right out of your funk.”

  I bet he could too. Too bad he doesn’t want that from me. “I doubt it.”

  “You forget that I’m sleeping with one of the Allen boys. If Trevor is anything like Rhett, he’s packing some serious heat,” she says, waggling her eyebrows.

  It’s official. I hate her. And not because she’s getting laid daily and I haven’t been touched in well over a year, but because now she’s got me thinking about how big Trevor’s dick is and how great it would be to feel his thick, muscular body pressing me into the mattress. It’s something I fantasized about many times before the fire.

  “I’m not going to sleep with Trevor.”

  “Fine, then sleep with someone else. You need to brush those cobwebs off and get back on the horse. It’s a great way to relieve stress, and you’ve got that in spades.”

  “I do not have cobwebs.”

  “Really? When was the last time you were with a man? And I mean a real man, not B.O.B.”

  It takes a second to calculate back that far, and when I realize it’s almost been two years, I decide to go on the defensive. “Are we seriously going to talk about this? I already feel like shit about myself and now you want to remind me that I’m practically a born-again virgin?”

  Mo’s smile falls. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel like shit about yourself. I was just trying to lighten the mood and have fun.”

  Damn it. Now I’ve made her feel bad, and that wasn’t my intention. “I’m sorry, Mo. You didn’t make me feel like shit. I’m just not myself, and I’m not in the right frame of mind to have a conversation with anyone, let alone have sex with anyone. This is a bad idea.”

  I grab my comforter from the floor, crawl back into bed, and pull it over my head.

  Mo immediately tears it off.

  “Sorry, sister, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. We’re going out for dinner whether you like it or not, and we’re going to have fun. I promise not to talk about Trevor and his giant penis or getting laid by a man.”

  “No.”

  “Claire…” She juts her bottom lip out and gives me puppy dog eyes. “Please,” she says, grabbing my hands. “I miss you. I know you went through a lot and you’re having a hard time working your way through it—although I don’t understand why—but holing yourself up in your house isn’t the answer. Just come with me, get some fresh air, say hi to a few people you haven’t seen in a while, and maybe it’ll help you clear your mind. Plus, there’s only so much guy talk a girl can take, and I’ve hit my limit. I need my Claire back.”

  How am I supposed to say no to that? “I’ve missed you too.”

  “Does that mean you’ll come?”

  I sigh, sitting back up. “I guess. But you have to promise that if I want to go home, you won’t fight me on it.”

  “I promise.”

  “I’m not kidding, Mo.”

  “I know.” She squeals and pulls me to my feet. “Go get in the shower. I’ll pick you out some clothes. Come on, I’m starving.” She guides me to the bathroom, turns the knob to the shower, smiles, and then walks out.

  I stand at the sink, looking at my reflection in the mirror. Lifting my lips, I try to force a smile, but it falls flat. I already know leaving the house tonight is a bad idea, but I’ve let so many people down, and I refuse to add Mo to that list.

  16

  Claire

  It takes an hour to get me ready. I could’ve been done in twenty minutes, but Mo insisted on fixing my hair. I drew the line at makeup and heels, refusing to get dolled up just to go to Dirty Dicks. I’m in more of a ripped jean, concert T-shirt, and Chuck sort of mood, which isn’t like me at all, and I’m not the only one to notice.

  “Why is everyone staring at me?”

  Mo and I take a table at the back of Dirty Dicks.

  “Because they’ve never seen you in jeans,” she says. “They also haven’t seen you in a few weeks, and they’ve been worried about you.”

  I look up from the menu. “Why?”

  “Really, you have to ask? Because you’re one of them, and they care about you.”

  Sometimes I forgot how small this town is. “Oh.”

  My gaze drifts across the bar. She’s right. I know everyone in here by name, and not only that, I can tell you who their significant others are and where they work, and if they have kids, I can tell you their names as well. They’re all giving me curious looks.

  My thoughts are interrupted when our waitress, Sarah, walks up.

  “Hey, Claire. Good to see you. How’ve you been?”

  I’m sick of people asking me that. I force a smile and look up at her. “I’m good, thank you.”

  She touches my arm. “Glad to have you back.” She winks and turns to Mo. “Sean and I miss you. Things just aren’t the same since you’ve been gone.”

  “It’s only been a week. Coop told me he finally replaced me,” Mo says.

  Replaced her? What is she talking about?

  “Yup. Her name is Willa, and she started last weekend. This is her first bartending job, but she’s a quick learner. I think she’ll fit in just fine.”

  “That’s great.”

  Sarah pulls out her pen and pad. “So, what are you ladies having tonight?”

  “Tell Coop Claire wants her usual, and I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries.”

  “Got it.” She scribbles everything down and then looks up. “Soda? Beer? Wine?”

  “I’ll have a Diet Coke,” Mo says.

  “Me too.”

  Sarah nods, stuffs the pad in her back pocket, and walks off.

  Arms folded across my chest, I lean back in the booth and stare at Mo.

  “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks.

  “You don’t work here anymore? Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, feeling affronted. I don’t know why I ask, though. I know the answer before it comes out of her mouth.

  “Because you’ve had enough on your plate, and I’ve barely seen you to tell you.”

  “We talk almost every day,” I retort.

  “No, I call to check on you, and you growl at me a few times and hang up. We haven’t had a real conversation in a long time, and the few times you do say more than two words, I don’t want to talk about me, I want to talk about you because I’m worried about you.”

  “Don’t be. I’m going to be fine, Mo. I know I’ve been off, but that fire was scary and after what happened to my dad…I just need to work through some things in my head. But I’ll be okay.” As I say these words, I really, really hope they’re true.

  Her shoulders relax. “Promise?”

  “I promise. This isn’t much different than the rough patch you went through after your dad’s stroke. And just because I’m working through things in my head doesn’t mean you aren’t my best friend. I still want to know what’s going on in your life.”

  “I quit Dirty Dicks.”

  I laugh. “I can see that. But how?”

  Mo was supposed to be a veterinarian. She was going to take over her father’s practice. She was accepted into a program, but just a few months in, her father had a stroke. Mo’s mother ran out on them a long time ago, so it was no surprise when Mo dropped out of school to come home and take care of her dad. Between taking over Animal Haven and managing her dad’s medical bills—including paying caregivers, which happened to be my mom and aunt—Mo was sucked dry monetarily.

  She started bartending on weekends to help make ends meet. She had her hands full until a few months back when her Dad moved in with my mom.

  My mother devoted herself to Mo’s dad. Taking care of him after
his stroke kept her busy, something she needed after retirement, and it kept the bills paid. Phil uses a wheelchair, but other than some speech issues, he’s completely with it, and over time they sort of fell in love.

  I never expected my mom to meet another man. After my father’s death, she was devastated. He was her first love—her only love—and she vowed no man would ever fill the void left in her life and in her heart.

  There will forever be an empty spot at the head of our table on Thanksgiving. The Santa cap Dad wore on Christmas morning while doling out gifts is a reminder of how uneventful the holidays are without him. Birthdays mean a hug and a card instead of a bouquet of flowers and a trip around the living room in his arms. All the small things and moments most people take for granted are the things we miss the most.

  The emptiness he left behind is part of the reason I vowed never to date a firefighter, let alone marry one. I want to keep my heart safe.

  And to think I was ready to give that up for a shot with Trevor.

  “I’m going back to school.” Mo claps her hands, yanking me out of my thoughts, and I question whether or not I heard her right.

  “What?”

  “I’m going back to school,” she repeats. “I start my first class in August.”

  “Mo, that’s great.” Reaching across the table, I grab her hand. “I’m so excited for you.”

  “Thank you. It all happened sort of fast.” She gets a dreamy look in her eye, the same one she gets when Rhett walks into a room. “I couldn’t do it without Rhett.”

  “Is he paying for it?”

  She scrunches her nose. “No. He wants to, but I can’t let him do that. But he is the one who encouraged it.”

  “I don’t understand. You relied on that paycheck from bartending. How are things going to work out now?”

  “Everything sort of fell into place after Dad moved in with your mom. I’m no longer paying for caregivers, and that frees up a lot of money. Plus, I’ve got Rhett, and now that he’s connected to the shelter, donations have been pouring in. But I’m taking out a loan to pay for school.”

  “Must be nice dating a world-champion bull rider.” I wink, and when Sarah drops our sodas off at the table, I pop the straw in my glass and take a sip.