Hearts on Fire: Romance Multi-Author Box Set Anthology

by Violet Vaughn

  I slide violet patent-leather heels onto my feet and head out the door. I’m jittery with excitement because I want to drink with the girls tonight and forget about my troubles. I should be okay to drive if I do it early. But I decide to pack an overnight bag just in case I have too much. I can always crash at Tara’s if I need to.

  Bass pulses through the stairs as I step up to Tara’s apartment. With music that loud, I don’t bother to knock. The door opens to the aroma of all things girl. Tara walks out of the kitchen area with a tray. “Casey! You’re just in time for shots.” She hands me a little paper cup filled with red gelatin and whipped cream. Her perfume accosts my nose as she breezes by, handing them out to Megan, Lisa, and Jill. Tara raises her cup and says, “To dancing until the cows come home!”

  I gulp the contents down before Megan gives me a hug. “Casey, you’re looking hot. I love your shoes.”

  Megan is great too in a tight fuchsia dress that looks fabulous with her dark-blond hair and blue eyes. “Wow, you’re smoking too. Did Nick see you in that outfit?”

  “He did.” She pauses. “Both times I put it on.” She winks at me and then blushes.

  I chuckle. “You hussy! How’s playing house?”

  “It’s awesome. No more driving back and forth to each other’s place. I love it.” Megan has a wine cooler in her hand.

  It looks like a good idea if I want to pace myself, and I ask, “Hey, did you bring enough of those that I could have one?”

  “Of course! I’ll go get it for you.”

  Megan heads to the fridge, and I turn to Lisa and Jill. They both work with Tara. “Casey, you’ve got to try the Irish whiskey cheddar we just got,” says Jill. “It melts in your mouth.”

  Lisa hands me a piece. “Try it.”

  I’m not the least bit hungry, but I should eat something. I nibble it, and the soft cheddar starts off with a bite that ends smoothly. “Oh, yum.”

  Megan slips a cold wine cooler into my hand. “Are we talking about food again?” She reaches over and takes a slice of apple. I do too.

  Tara starts to dance, and we all join her. She yells, “Ladies, I think we need to do some fishing!”

  We leave for the club in a group, and the staccato clicking of stiletto heels on the sidewalk sounds like distant fireworks. With alcohol pulsing through our veins, our voices are high and loud. The dark interior of The Fish Bowl tries to dampen our spirits, but it can’t. We radiate enough energy to drown the strongest of swimmers.

  Tara takes the lead and works her way over to the bar. “Five Jelly Beans, please!”

  Uh-oh. I’m not doing shots. I exchange looks with Megan, and she leans in to the bartender to say, “Make that three, please. We’ll take two wines with seltzer.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No worries. I don’t think Nick would be impressed if I came home and threw up.”

  Lisa and Jill have found us a table near the dance floor, and Tara walks over with the shots while Megan and I trail her. Sweat laced with perfume and cologne and the faded red spotlights swirling around create a sensual atmosphere. The throaty beat calls me, and I set down my drink to grab Megan’s hand. “C’mon.”

  Music flows over me, and I begin to move. I gyrate my hips, and sexual energy reverberates through my body, so I close my eyes and let it take over. When I open them, I see a guy dance behind Megan, his hands on her hips as they sway. The familiar mix of male and woodlands comes my way, and my core begins to pulse with the music. Jason. Hands land on my hips, and I don’t have to turn around to know who’s behind me. We’ve done this a million times. I know how to move, and so does he. I’m dying to lean back into him, but I’m not sure what might happen if I did. The heat of exertion, and something else, drives my movements. I tremble with hunger and feed it with music. His hands are light on me, but their presence sears. I don’t ever want to stop. When Megan looks over at me, she frowns and tilts her head toward our table. I turn to Jason before I leave and say, “Thanks.”

  Once back at the table, Megan leans in toward me and speaks over the music. “That guy was totally turned on by you. Oh my God, you should have seen his face. It’s a good thing he barely touched you. I might have had to go all ninja on him to protect Blaine’s honor.” She laughs.

  I offer a forced smile and say, “I’m pretty sure the guy dancing with you liked what he saw, too.” Cool wine pours down my throat in a gulp.

  “Well, we’re definitely hot.” She places her cold drink on her neck.

  On the dance floor, Tara keeps some guy occupied, and he looks flustered. Not in a good way. Part of me wants to go save him. “Megan, look.”

  “Oh, that poor guy. Should we help him?”

  I nod my head, and we both go dance with Tara.

  As the night progresses, the floor get packed. It’s hard to stay together, and I lose Megan. It doesn’t matter, since it’s hard to talk, and I’m happy to focus on the music. After the first dance, Jason disappeared. But he’s back on the floor now; he’s seen me. He makes his way over. Moisture from sweat is damp on my skin, and I’m a little buzzed. This time when he puts his hands on my hips, firm pressure is applied, and I move back closer to him. His scent envelops me as he speaks in my ear. “You look beautiful tonight.”

  “Thanks.” I want to tell him he looks hot. But I don’t. He brushes up against me, and I feel his erection hard against my bottom. I want to push back further and feel all of him. In my mind, his hands touch me everywhere. My lips burn with the thought of his, and I wish I could take him right here on the dance floor. Instead, I keep dancing.

  The bartender announces last call, and I know I have to find the girls. I stop dancing and turn to face Jason. “I’ve got to go. Thanks.” Without thinking, I add, “I’ve missed you.” I’m so tempted to kiss him, and I glance at his lips before I notice his eyes are full of the lust I feel, and it takes every ounce of self-control I have to walk away.

  I can’t find anyone, but that’s not unusual. It’s every woman for herself this time of night. But I know how to get into Tara’s apartment, and I head that way. My heels tap on the sidewalk as cool night air chills my dampened skin. Lisa and Jill drive toward me and slow down. Lisa leans out the window and yells, “Tara took someone home. You don’t want to go up there!” I wave at her and smile as they drive away before I realize I need a ride. Drunk, there’s no way I should drive, so I pull out my phone and hope I can catch Megan.

  I discover a text from her. “I miss Nick. I know, pathetic. Gone home.”

  I let out a big sigh and start walking back to find someone I know. A truck pulls up next to me, and I realize it’s Jason. He’s flushed, and his scent reaches my nose as I notice hair stuck to his face with sweat. Damn if my body doesn’t prepare to assault.

  “Hey,” he says. “Lose your friends?”

  “Something like that. I shouldn’t drive. Would you give me a ride home?” I think I might regret this, but right now I don’t care.

  His door groans as he pushes it open for me. I hop up, and when I snap the seat belt in place, it’s like an old friend’s embrace. The odor of his truck is a mix of dirt, stale coffee, and cut pine. My arches cramp up and I reach down to take off my shoes. He chuckles, and I ask, “What’s so funny?”

  “Your feet stink.”

  “Charmer.”

  “Does your boyfriend know about those feet?” He’s still smiling.

  “Oh, you’re a comedian.” I’m letting my sexual frustrations make me angry, and I say, “Not only does he know, he massages them after a long ski day.”

  Pain flickers in his eyes before his face gets serious. “What did you eat today?”

  “What? I’m not trashed, Jason. Just a little buzzed.” I sniff my shoe. It does stink.

  “I know. That’s not why I’m asking. So tell me, what did you eat today?”

  I haven’t missed the food police. But I know one thing; he won’t stop until I tell him, so I might as well get this over with. I think for a minute. “
Coffee, half a sandwich, cheese, and an apple.” Okay, so he doesn’t need to know it was a tiny piece of cheese and one slice of apple. I add, “Hey, at least it’s not junk.”

  “There’s that.” He pauses. “What’s going on? Something’s wrong. You’re skinny and not eating.”

  There’s concern in his voice, and I feel awful because I don’t deserve it. Tears pool in my eyes. “I’m fine.” My voice cracks and gives me away.

  Warm fingers wrap around my hand. “Casey.” His touch is kind, and it makes my tears start to fall.

  We’ve arrived at my house, and the truck groans as he puts it in park. His seat belt snaps back as he turns to me and opens his arms. “Come here.”

  I know I shouldn’t, but I unbuckle and slide over to his embrace. He pets my hair as I cry, and I breathe in the musky wood scent of him. Each stroke of his hand sends a jolt to my heart.

  When I’m done, I glance up into his eyes to notice their color is deep in the darkness of the night. My gaze falls to his lips, and I want to kiss him. I bite my lip in reflex, tamping down the impulse. I reach up and touch his mouth with my fingers, and the skin is soft under my finger before he pushes me away. “You need to get back on your side of the truck.” His voice is husky. He holds his head for a moment and then takes my shoulders. “Really, I need you to move.”

  I move over without a word, and he says, “You’re just too tempting that close.” He shifts in his seat. “So why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

  You’re pretty tempting yourself. “I can’t. I just can’t.” I pick up my shoes and my purse. “Thanks for the ride.” The door creaks open, and I slide off the leather seat. The gravel in the driveway hurts my feet, but I walk on it anyway.

  23

  Day two of avoiding Blaine and way too many days of avoiding Gretchen, and I resist the urge to curl up on the couch and just cry. I need to deal, so I call Gretchen.

  In a fake answering-machine voice, Gretchen answers my call. “This number is no longer in service. The owner’s best friend left her hanging, so she died from a broken heart. Please don’t leave a message. Save it for hell.” She laughs at herself. “Because the owner will save her a seat.”

  I snort. “Hi, Gretch.”

  “What’s going on, girlfriend?”

  I tear up. “My life sucks. I want to marry one man and sleep with another.”

  “Wait, what? Who do you want to screw?”

  I sigh. And close my eyes for the hit that’s coming. “Jason.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yup, that’s what I want to do.” I giggle at my Gretchen joke.

  She snorts. “That was good.”

  “I know.” Tears well up in my eyes. Where the hell is that tissue box?

  “So, tell me again, why the hell aren’t you with Jason?”

  The tears fall now. “Oh, Gretchen. I wish I could flip a switch in him to make him want a family.”

  “Not everyone has children. It’s not the end of the world, you know. There are so many ways to have kids in your life.”

  “I want my own.”

  “And you think you can have them with a man who can’t sleep with you?”

  “That’s not true!” I throw a pillow across the room. “It’s just...” I sigh and speak through clenched teeth. “We’re working on it.”

  “At the risk of not hearing from you for another month, you have too many rules in place. You’re a control freak, and life doesn’t bend because you command it to. My advice is to listen to your heart, because your head is fucked up.”

  There’s silence for a moment, and then Gretchen says, “Look, I know you’re pissed at me right now. It’s okay. I think you need to be. Take a long look at why.” Then she adds, “I’ll call you in a few days, and you will answer. I promise I won’t be a bitch. Okay?”

  I cut the conversation short. “Okay. Bye.”

  She’s right. I’m pissed off. She has no idea how amazing Blaine is. We’ll fix this, and in a few years, I’ll wonder why I let this be such a big deal. She’ll see.

  Minutes after I hang up with Gretchen, my phone vibrates. It’s a text from Megan.

  “Chick flick day?”

  “Sure. What’s up?” It’s dreary weather, and while I could shoot home interiors, I can blow off work for Megan.

  “Nick and I had a fight. I need to get out of here for a while.”

  “Come over any time. Want me to get anything?”

  “No. I’ll bring stuff. Thanks. Got tissues?”

  I smile at that one. “Cases :)”

  Still mad at Gretchen, I enter cleaning mode. I race around picking up the spent tissues and do a quick vacuum. The bathroom gets scrubbed. Standing in the kitchen, I ponder a deep clean of the fridge, when the rumble of Megan’s car announces she’s here. I gather popcorn and chocolate truffles and set them on the counter.

  With a quick knock, Megan walks in. “Your place is always so clean. I love it. I don’t suppose you’d give Nick a lesson? He’s such a slob.”

  “What happened?”

  Megan plunks down on the sofa, and her bags thump at her feet. Tears brim in her eyes. I grab a box of tissues and hand it to her.

  “Oh Casey, I moved in with a pig. He leaves his clothes wherever he took them off. It’s crazy; if I didn’t pick them up, they would stay there for days. For all I know, he would just put them back on again instead of doing laundry. And the kitchen.” She huffs. “The man doesn’t know how to load a dishwasher. No, it’s worse than that. The dishes don’t even make it to the sink. I swear he thinks moving in with me was like getting a housekeeper.” She yanks a tissue out of the box and blows so hard she honks before she says, “Don’t even get me started on how gross the bathroom is. What was I thinking?”

  I take the bags from her and move to the kitchen to empty them. “Did you try to talk to him about it?”

  “I have. I’ve asked him nicely to pick things up, but it doesn’t work. So this morning I lost it, and he told me I was a nag.” She gasps as she begins to cry again. “And if he’d wanted a mother, he would have moved home.”

  I sit next to her and pull her shaking body into my arms. “Megan.” She sobs on my shoulder, and warm tears soak through my shirt. When she’s done, I wipe hair out of her face. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I get it. Want a truffle?”

  Her eyes light up. “Yes.”

  I go to the kitchen to grab two truffles and the DVD. “Magic Mike? This looks a little like porn, Megan.” I chuckle.

  “It’s not porn. It’s eye candy. Channing Tatum is delicious as a stripper.” She smiles.

  “Ah, I do like candy.” I flash a wicked smile at her.

  “You put it in, and I’ll organize the snacks.”

  She returns with the cookies on a plate, the chips in a bowl, side plates, and two glasses of diet soda over ice. The movie is cued up, and I hit Play.

  Taking a cookie, she says, “The acting is awful. We’re watching it for the dancing and the bodies.” She snickers.

  I sit back, prepared to lose myself in silliness.

  A few minutes into the movie, my phone rattles as it vibrates on the kitchen counter. I guess it’s Blaine, so I don’t go look, because I’m not ready to deal with him yet.

  During a scene lull without skin, I get up for ice cream.

  “Casey?” asks Megan. “Did you know Blaine was coming over?”

  “No. Is he here?” Crap.

  “He just pulled in.” The voices on the TV stop.

  I walk back to the living room, and Megan is clearing the table. “Don’t do that. I’ll tell him to go.”

  “Ah, I don’t think so. He has flowers.” She carries the food into the kitchen.

  Flowers? My stomach sinks, and I wonder if someone told him about me dancing with Jason. I notice Megan only muted the movie as I walk to the door.

  Before he can knock, I open the door. Blaine pushes the flowers out toward me,
and the aroma of peach roses fills my nose as I take them. “These are lovely. What’s the occasion?”

  He leans in for a quick kiss. He whispers, “It seems like you’re mad at me. I’m apologizing in advance.”

  I frown. “Let me put these in water.”

  Back in the kitchen, Megan mouths, “What?”

  I shake my head and shrug my shoulders. I give her hug as I say, “Thanks for cleaning up. You’re good at it.”

  She smiles at my joke. “Thanks. Keep the movie for a while.” She waggles her eyebrows at me. “Maybe it’ll be inspiration.”

  I hop on the counter and search the top shelves of Clara’s cabinet, hoping to find a vase. I pull down a rectangular one with little glass pebbles in the bottom. They rattle as water rushes into the vase. I spend time arranging the flowers carefully. Eventually I can’t stall any longer and make my way into the living room.

  Blaine stands up and comes toward me as if he’s on a mission. The vase clunks on the coffee table when I set it down, and without a word he pulls me close for a kiss. It’s not the tender kiss I’m used to. It’s deep and passionate. At least I think it is, and I push my hips closer to find out. Wow, he’s hard, and it makes my stomach flutter. Blaine lowers us to the couch, and I straddle him. He says, “Kiss my neck.” I lower my head and nip at his warm skin as his hands move under my shirt and up my back. My skin tingles in response. I don’t know where this is coming from, but I will it to keep going. Making my way back to his lips, he pushes me aside and starts to kiss my shoulder. I throw my head back and lift up so he can go lower. He responds by rising to stay on top of my shoulder. Okay, kind of weird. But heck, we do weird. I grind into his erection. It’s still there, and I take it as a sign we can move this to the bedroom. Standing up, I pull him with me. There is no mistaking the lust in his eyes.

  Once in the bedroom, I direct him to the bed and push him down. He bounces on the mattress as he lands on his back, and I crawl onto him to kiss his neck. My hands lift his shirt slowly as his gentle fingers move under my top to hold my back. He flips me over and straddles me to makes quick work of removing his shirt. Channing’s got nothing on Blaine, and I sigh at the sight of him as I reach up and grab the waistband of his jeans. Blaine’s stomach is trembling, and I can’t believe we’ve made it this far. His button pops open when I yank. He works on the zipper, and it hums as he lowers it. Oh my word, this is really happening.