Walk Through the Fire

by Calle J. Brookes

  It was like this, when he was just like this, that she had a hard time not being attracted to him. Like this he was quiet and contemplative and not like the forceful, dynamic politician he’d been earlier tonight. It was like there were two men inside that hot, handsome body. “How do you do it?”

  “Do what?” He tugged on her hand again, and she let him lead her to the pumpkin orange swing at the end of her porch. He sat down first, then pulled her down—right next to him. Until her thigh was touching his.

  His arm slipped behind her shoulders. She bit back the urge to yelp.

  Annie wanted to do something completely stupid; she wanted to just snuggle up right next to him. Where she didn’t belong. Still, what would just a few minutes hurt? “Be the mayor? Be in front of everyone. You were basically the whipping boy for most of the room tonight. You didn’t cause the storm. Yet everyone wants answers from you. Like you have the magic power needed just to fix everything all nice and pretty and in a big, pink bow.”

  “To tell you a secret, I’m not so sure what I’m doing, either. I had twenty-two months as the deputy mayor. The biggest catastrophe we had was when Farm Road 84 washed out, and we had half the county stranded on the wrong side. I mostly feel like I’m muddling through all of this. And like I may have gotten duped, taking the job. Most days, I think Carl would have been a better mayor than I am, by far.” He sent her a rueful grin, then shook his head. “I shouldn’t say that. I gave the deputy mayoral position a lot of thought before I took it. I knew it was a commitment going in. Carl could have taken it then, but he’d just stepped back a bit to be with his grandson. He’d assured me I could handle it all. I’m not sure I believe he had my best interests at heart that day. I didn’t expect to get the top position, though.”

  “You were an attorney before.” She knew his bio, what she’d read in the newspapers that littered the third-floor break room. She’d pored over the papers everywhere the Barratt name had been mentioned.

  Pitiful. Like a schoolgirl again.

  “Yes. I was a partner in my uncle’s practice, with two of my cousins.” His hand was still playing with her hair. With the back of her neck beneath the ponytail. Annie fought the urge to shiver from the heat of his touch.

  She’d always been sensitive there.

  Annie wanted those fingers elsewhere.

  She was grateful the sun was starting to set and he couldn’t see the fire that hit her cheeks.

  Annie hadn’t had those kinds of thoughts about a man in close to two years. She just hadn’t had the time to even think about a man, let alone be attracted to one. This was probably not the best man to be starting those feelings about again.

  She had to remember that.

  “Are you running again?” There’s another election coming up, she thought. Since he hadn’t won the position but stepped into it with the previous mayor’s death.

  “I honestly don’t know what I’ll do when the time comes. I figure to get through the next few months, possibly the end of the year, then I’ll decide. I want to help the city recover, Annie. Hell, maybe that’s my calling. The law practice I am a partner in was leveled by the storm. We’re rebuilding now. But I was good at being an attorney. I can make a decent living doing that, and not be responsible for the fate of an entire city. There was far less pressure, believe it or not. But...I’m the mayor for a reason. I am trying to remember that. But there are nights like tonight when I wonder if I’m just making things worse for the town. If the town would be better off if I let Carl take over the position. He’d been on the city council for decades before taking the deputy position when I asked him. He’s on boards and charities and civic organizations throughout the county. Throughout the state. I know he's been making hints about retiring, but…”

  “No. I don’t think you are the wrong man at all.” Before she even realized she was moving, Annie leaned her head against his shoulder. This...this was crazy. She was not practically snuggled up with the mayor on a pumpkin orange front porch swing.

  But she was. And it felt good. Right. Like she had found an island in the middle of the ocean, right there snuggled up against him.

  Pitiful, pitiful, pitiful.

  She should pack the boys up and move to Fiji or something. Before she snuggled even closer and made one of the biggest mistakes of her life.

  “To hear your neighbors say it, I am. Especially the guy in the coveralls.”

  “Harley’s been a problem for people in this neighborhood almost as long as I’ve lived here. I don’t think the city could have gotten through the storm if it hadn’t been for you, Turner. I know I couldn’t have.”

  “I meant to come be with you in the hospital that first day. But I couldn’t get away. I didn’t leave my temporary office until Elliot Marshall kicked me out. Worse.”

  “What?”

  “He sicced Guard-Gabby and her friends on me. Mel especially had a lot to say. She played the family-cares card and made me feel guilty for upsetting everyone who cared about me.”

  Annie winced, but it was good-natured. Turner’s cousin’s wife could be a bit bossy when she was worried about someone. Mel had turned her attention in Annie’s direction on a few occasions. “I’m sure she did.”

  “Don’t tell Houghton, but I’m half in love with that woman. She...rocks.”

  “She does.”

  “She fits him so well. He needs someone like her in his life. He’s the luckiest bastard on the planet.” His hand slipped down her arm, and he pulled her closer. “Hard not to envy him. Well, most of the time. Mel can be a dictator when she wants to be.”

  “They are lucky they made it through what happened to them.” Mel and Houghton had had some seriously terrifying things happen to them in the early days of their relationship. But they’d made it through.

  Getting through seemed to be the name of the game.

  They appeared just as mismatched as Annie and the man next to her, at least on the surface. A cop on disability pay and a multi-billionaire. A multi-billionaire who’d abducted that cop and carried her off to Mexico.

  That shouldn’t have worked out for them. But it had. She wondered if Mel had had the same fears she had now.

  Annie closed her eyes and reminded herself—she was not in a relationship with Turner Barratt.

  And she wasn’t ever going to be. She had to remember that.

  She turned her head, just a little. Just enough to meet his eyes and tell him that. It was best if they just kept out of each other’s orbits. That way, she didn’t do anything totally stupid.

  But his lips were right there.

  73

  He was going to kiss her. Turner wasn’t about to let her go without kissing her. Suddenly, that was the only thing he could think about.

  Kissing Annie. Nothing sounded more right to him than kissing Annie.

  He breathed her name. Just her name. Annie.

  His hand was already on her shoulder; it was so easy to drop it to encircle her waist. She leaned toward him. His other hand rose to cup her cheek.

  And then his lips brushed hers.

  Turner closed his eyes as he pulled the woman he wanted closer.

  Her lips parted beneath his. Turner had never been slow to react when it was necessary. He deepened the kiss.

  Annie released a sound, something between a sigh and squeak. Turner thought it sounded one hundred percent perfect. And he would be the luckiest bastard on the planet if he ever got the opportunity to get her to make that sound in a thousand other ways. A thousand other touches.

  He deliberately kept his movements slowed, unhurried. Annie was skittish.

  Turner had not missed that at all. He didn’t know if it was because she was young and obviously more inexperienced than the women he usually got involved with, or if it was because something had happened to make her afraid of men.

  He suspected it might have been a mix of both. The last thing he wanted was for her to be afraid of him.

  What he wanted to do was yank he
r into his arms and then devour her. Simple as that. He wanted to consume her, to put his touch on her everywhere. Make it clear to her and anyone else that he, Turner Avery Barratt, had it bad for Annabelle Gaines.

  Hell, he wanted to take out a billboard and show everyone everywhere exactly how he felt about this woman in his arms.

  He was a Barratt, after all. And he wasn’t stupid.

  There was usually truth behind family legends. There was a reason why his family history was littered with men who knew the women they wanted.

  But the ones in the past had known how to go about getting the women they wanted. Turner wasn’t so sure he had that same knowledge.

  One small hand slipped up around his neck.

  And Annie clung to him.

  Turner kissed her as long as she would let him. But the inevitable happened.

  Annie pulled away, shaking her head. “I just can’t do this right now. I’m sorry, but you have to go.”

  Turner nodded and stood. He knew the benefit of a strategic retreat.

  But Annie wasn’t immune to him. Far from it. And that thought gave him hope. It gave him something to look forward to. He walked back toward the community center and his car, actually feeling like he’d taken a few steps forward with her tonight.

  And knowing he wasn’t going to stop.

  74

  “So you’re the next Barratt bride?” Someone slapped a newspaper with a familiar cartoon garlic down in front of Annie. She looked up from where she was sipping the only soda she allowed herself each day. She needed the caffeine. Syrus had kept her up late the night before, suffering from yet another ear infection. He was most likely going to need the tubes in his ears eventually. She needed to have a word with Nikkie Jean about her opinion on that. He just never had been able to handle even the mildest of colds well.

  Jillian and Nikkie Jean stood there, looking at her expectantly.

  “Shhh!” Annie scoped out the cafeteria, reassuring herself that no one was listening to them. “No one knows it’s me. Here, anyway. Yet.”

  “Well, we do. The green scrubs gave you away. Within seconds.” Nikkie Jean sank into the chair across from her. She had a tray laden with food and was eyeing it like she was starving. Jillian had a matching tray. “Not to mention the porch. That thing stands out like Cinderella’s pumpkin.”

  “No kidding,” Jillian added.

  “I love it when Linda works,” Nikkie Jean said, poking a plastic spoon into her chocolate pudding cup. She had two cups on her tray. “Always gives me extra pudding. She likes me.”

  “You mean she gives you extra food without charging you.” Annie’s lips twitched. Linda, who had once worked as an obstetrics dietician, had a soft spot for pregnant women who worked in the hospital. It was well-known.

  “Something like that. She keeps telling me she hopes that if she feeds me enough, I’ll finally grow.” She shot Annie a grin. Nikkie Jean was a bit sensitive about her lack of height, but she hid it with snarky jokes. And she took people’s comments with her characteristic good humor. “I told her I finally am growing. At last. I’m just growing out instead of up. Or…around, rather.”

  “No kidding,” Jillian said, eyeing Nikkie Jean’s bump. Which was quite a bit bigger than her own now. “Are you sure there’s not more than one in there?”

  “Well...as sure as we can be. I don’t think Caine’s number five is hiding in there. But it’s possible. It would be awesome if there was. And he’s hit doubles before. I’ll need to calculate the odds.” A seriously intrigued look went through Nikkie Jean’s eyes behind the glasses. Today’s had tiny cartoon tornados on each frame. Where she’d found them, Annie didn’t have a clue. She suspected the glasses were custom-made. As were the rest of her ever-changing eyewear. Whereas other women bought jewelry, Nikkie Jean bought eyeglass frames. From somewhere. Annie had never asked.

  Typical Nikkie Jean.

  “I sincerely hope that if there are twins to be born to our men, that it’s you and not me,” Jillian said with feeling.

  “I’m pretty certain it’s just one. We’ll check with the next ultrasound. We’re scheduled for next week.”

  “Still don’t know the sexes?” It was getting close to that point for both, she thought.

  “Hmmm. We know. We’re just not telling,” Jillian said, a secret look in her brown eyes.

  “Can’t tell on Jelly Bean. Baby won’t stay still long enough to get a good shot. But that was at the last checkup. Layla promises she’ll try again next time.” Nikkie Jean waved the paper between them. “But back to this. You are kissing the mayor. Well, if you were aliens, I’d say you were trying to suck his face off and devour him. Doing a good job of it, too. So...spill.”

  “What’s there to say? He walked me home, we talked a bit, sat on the swing, he kissed me. And apparently one of my neighbors decided to make a few bucks selling photos to the Snotty Garlic.”

  And Annie was fighting the anger that brought. The only thing that had saved her from being the talk of the hospital nurses had been the fact that her name had not been mentioned. And Turner’s strong back was to the road, blocking her from the camera.

  “But the orange porch swing is very distinctive,” Nikkie Jean pointed out. “All anyone has to do is drive down Boethe Street and your secret identity will get outed. It may just be a matter of time.”

  “I know.” That had been something she’d considered after a phone call from her mother—an avid Garlic subscriber—had given her the third degree, as well as pointed out that a man like a Barratt wasn’t the type of man Annie would ever be able to hold onto for long. Her mother had practically cackled it.

  Her mother was adamant that Turner was just trying to get Annie in his bed for some inexplicable reason. Or use her to further his political agenda. Annie wasn’t enough of a woman to capture a man like Turner’s interest long-term, after all. At least according to her mother.

  It had to be because of the storm.

  Or a publicity stunt. His cozying up to the young single mother injured in the storm would look damned good to voters. Annie was just a tool.

  Her mother’s attitude didn’t surprise her in the least. Her mother always had made it clear Annie only had a few things going for her. Number one was her willingness to work. Number two was that she didn’t make waves or cause trouble. That was just about it.

  Neither of those qualities would catch her a millionaire. Annie just needed to get that idea out of her head, right away. Before she did something completely stupid.

  Annie hadn’t known what to say. What she had said wasn’t repeatable, and had been followed up with her ending the call and blocking her mother’s number.

  Annie had taken the power to hurt her away from her mother long ago.

  Annie had made that perfectly clear on the phone that morning. She seriously doubted she’d hear from her mother for a very long time. If ever again.

  Although, that was a blessing as far as Annie was concerned.

  She’d only tolerated her mother for the last two years, anyway. Since her mother was the foster parent the boys had originally been placed with.

  It had taken some doing and some favors Jake had called in from somewhere to get Annie added to the boys’ case files a few months later.

  But Jake had made it happen. Fortunately, the boys had a better caseworker than Josie had. Their caseworker was a miracle worker. If it hadn’t been for her, Annie’s mother would have still had a huge say in what happened to the boys. The caseworker had fought for Annie.

  Now, the boys were hers.

  Her mother hated that Annie had won that battle against her.

  “Mom pointed out that it was probably a publicity stunt on Turner’s part.” She rolled her eyes at Nikkie Jean. Nikkie Jean had met her mother once—that had been a fun experience. Nikkie Jean had trouble behaving sometimes. Especially when she thought she was protecting someone she loved. “I’m just hoping it’ll blow over in a day or two, anyway. Once someone gives act
ual coverage of last night’s meeting.”

  “Your mother is such a piece of work,” Nikkie Jean said, her gaze going to the cafeteria entrance just as her own father walked in, a bunch of men—including Jillian’s husband—and women in suits behind him. “Oh boogers. Speaking of parents...If he’s here now, it’s only a matter of time before he finds his way to Barratt County.”

  Annie winced on her friend’s behalf.

  Nikkie Jean’s father had officially purchased both Finley Creek General Hospital and Barratt County a week ago. It had been everywhere on the news sites. Barratt County—where Nikkie Jean’s fiancé was the chief of medicine. A fact no one had bothered to share with Nikkie Jean’s father.

  When Nikkie Jean and her father did come face-to-face, there were going to be some serious fireworks ignited.

  Annie would almost pay to be a fly on the wall when Jordan Carrington realized the chief of medicine he’d been arguing with so heatedly via emails and phone conversations—both men had very different visions for Barratt County—was the father of his grandchild.

  Caine wanted to let it fly with Jordan Carrington, for Nikkie Jean’s sake, but he was also very, very good at running his hospital. And he had a staff depending on him to do it to the best of his ability.

  It was going to be a massive blowup when things finally boiled to the surface.

  Caine would be stuck right in the middle.

  “Don’t go anywhere,” Jillian said, firmly. “Don’t let him run you off, Nik. Even if he owns the hospital now, you have a contract.”

  Nikkie Jean shot her a baleful look. “I own the hospital now, too. I’m never going to be able to escape him.”

  “What?” Annie and Jillian asked in unison. Way too loudly. They drew looks. Nikkie Jean shushed them, then leaned forward. Annie watched Jordan Carrington study his daughter from clear across the cafeteria, where he now stood with Jillian’s husband. Annie leaned forward, as did Jillian. “What’s going on?”

  Before Nikkie Jean could answer, her name was called over the intercom system. An emergency with a patient. Nikkie Jean jumped to her feet.