“You should be here to see what being bad gets you,” he murmured invitingly.
Her breathless laugh had him hard already. He toyed with the fly of his jeans and closed his eyes, thinking about the last time this woman made love to him. He pictured her ample breasts spilling into his face as he palmed her sexy curves, and already it was torture. With her honey blonde hair and pinup body, Aileen reminded him of a lingerie model—she was his very own personal Scarlett Johansson.
Sebastian had met her at a charity function about eight months before, and she was just about the only woman who was willing to deal with his demanding job as a firefighter at the Tucson Fire Department.
“If I was there, what would you do to me?” she asked.
His manhood swelled even more, just from her seductive tone. He liked to think they had more than a sexual thing going on. The only problem was, Aileen had already told him she wasn’t looking for a serious relationship.
“You already know, Aileen. I’d light some fires…”
He paused, thinking, phone sex? It was like being in high school all over again. Back then, he was a pimply, gangly teen trying to figure out if the G-spot really existed. He laughed softly to himself. He was sure that by now, at twenty-six years old, he’d have someone to make love to every night, instead of getting blue balls.
“Enough talk, honey,” he said. “How about you clock out early?”
“You know I can’t leave work,” she answered.
He strained to hear what was going on in the background at her job. It was disappointing that she had to work for the holidays. She was usually off nights. He began to wonder if she was just blowing him off. Lately, he was feeling more attached to her. He missed her when she didn’t call, or when he tried phoning and it would go to voicemail. He disliked that she was rarely free to go out.
He sat up and swung his feet over the edge of the bed. It was time to tell her how he felt. He was about to stop her, when he heard a man’s voice in the background. It wasn’t clear what the man was saying, but it sounded intimate.
“Your boss stepped in?” he asked curiously.
“Hang on, um, Barbara,” she said, and in a voice that was nothing like the sexy purr she had been using before.
“Barbara?” he repeated, confused.
The sound became muffled. He could tell Aileen had put her hand over the phone receiver. He never saw himself as naturally cynical. He was lighthearted for the most part. But, when a woman suddenly called out the wrong name in the middle of a conversation—particularly a female name—alarms went off. He gritted his teeth and stood up, trying not to read too much into it.
“Who’s Barbara?” he asked.
“Look, let me call you back.”
Aileen sounded irritated, but Sebastian wasn’t ready to hang up the phone until he got some answers.
“Aileen, is there something I need to know?”
“Barb, seriously, let me call you back. My, uh…”
Suddenly the guy in the background grabbed the phone and replied jovially, “Hey, Barb. Yep, her husband’s home, honey. She’ll have to call you back.”
Okay. That said it all. Sebastian hung up the phone.
Aileen is married?
Fuck.
I was played.
Chapter 1
Six Months Later
ALEXANDRA groaned inwardly.
“So, tell us, Lexxi Rock,” Kyle O’Myron, the late-night talk show host began.
Whatever Kyle was about to ask would sting. It was clear to her. Alexandra stayed up often to watch his show. His light blue eyes would take on that same glint, and his lips would curve upward just before he pulled the proverbial rug out from under his celebrity guests.
Kyle took far too much pleasure in seeing celebrities squirm, which was the main reason the show’s ratings were always so high, and why she was a guest tonight. She tried to anticipate what he would ask. It was a live show, so all she could do was prepare to flash an unaffected fake smile.
“Earlier today, we learned that your boyfriend and country music star, Wilkes Barracks, made the news when he was seen, um—well, we’ll just call it ‘cozying up’ with debut actress Lydia Daniels.”
“What?” Already, she was shocked. I know I didn’t just hear what I think I heard, she thought.
“That had to come out of left field, didn’t it, Lexxi? You and Wilkes have been dating for a while now. Fans were hoping, crossing their fingers for the two of you to walk down the aisle. By the way, have you seen the footage of Wilkes and Lydia together down in Miami? Run the clip, Rod.”
He didn’t bother to wait for her to respond. He bulldozed ahead.
Alexandra held a breath and felt her pulse quicken. The wall of screens around the set displayed her shirtless boyfriend. It closed in on Wilkes, passionately kissing the buxom, raven-haired young actress, before a backdrop of rolling aquamarine waves and a blazing blue sky. The image was so out of character that for five seconds, only disbelief would register on her face. Her dark brown eyebrows winged up above widened eyes as her mouth dropped open.
Wilkes isn’t a passionate guy!
That can’t be my Wilkes.
As if reading her mind, the clip showed the same scene from a different angle. It was Wilkes all right.
“Son of a bitch,” she said under her breath, confused.
All this time Wilkes had kept her at arm’s length. Their relationship was cool at best, yet there he was setting off fireworks as he kissed that tramp?
Of course, the camera panned over to Alexandra, clocking her reaction in a side-by-side display with the cheating asshole and his actress skank of a sex partner. It took extra effort for her lips to twist in a semblance of a smile for the audience’s sake. On the inside, she was seething with rage. Her boyfriend of over a year had to have grown a pair of brass balls to embarrass her this way. He didn’t even have the decency to phone and dump her, or to give her the heads-up this footage was coming. And he was the one who drove her to the airport to fly in for this show!
Prick.
Alexandra had to assume he wanted her to see it as the feature video clip of this late night show, like everyone else in the audience. The timing of this revelation sucked. She was in the middle of recording an album, for goodness sake. She didn’t need a scandal. Wilkes could have at least waited until the album dropped—at which point any publicity would be good publicity.
“Damn you, Wilkes,” she said under her breath before addressing the footage. “Hmmm, uh, well…” she struggled to respond. “I think it’ll make a great song. In fact, I can’t wait to immortalize another failed relationship on my upcoming album, Kyle. And, good for Wilkes! You know? He’s obviously a classy guy, to have done something like this.”
Kyle tossed his head and laughed. His perfectly coiffed hair didn’t budge. Alexandra forced her contrived smile to remain in place. She was sure Kyle had been hoping for tears—springing that crap on her out of the blue.
Ugh, I hate my life sometimes!
Dressed in the purple and white polka-dot dress that complemented her knee-length purple hair, at least she looked like she had it all together. Looks were deceiving at the moment, but she was the one fans dubbed as an A-list rock superstar with the voice of an angel. Not Wilkes. With that in mind, she pressed on and waded through Kyle’s tough questions.
“There’s the Lexxi Rock America knows and loves, ladies and gentlemen!” he concluded. “Stay tuned. Up next, Lexxi will be performing for us live.”
The second they gave the call for a commercial break, she fled past the greenroom and stamped down a side corridor to her dressing room, grumbling under her breath the whole way.
“Make-up, Miss Lexxi?” a stylist called after her.
She needed to be back on stage in minutes, but ignored the woman. At this point she couldn’t care less if she came off like a diva.
Screw them all.
Alexandra slammed the door behind her and pressed her shoulders aga
inst the doorframe, finally letting out the scream she had been holding in on stage. The carpeted room was well-insulated, but the echo resounded in her bruised heart. By the time she was done pouring out the hurt, she struck up the courage to yank out her smartphone and call Wilkes. It went directly to voicemail.
Typical.
She growled into the phone, “Damn you, Wilkes. You fake, Luke Bryan wannabe bastard! How could you do this to me, and with Lydia Daniels of all people? I guess you two are meant for each other, you one-hit wonder. Don’t even try to get back with me. It’s over between us!”
She hit the end call button, wishing it was a rotary phone like the one her grandmother had, so she could get the satisfaction of slamming the handset into the cradle. She huffed and paced around the closet-sized space, unable to calm down or think of anything else. She couldn’t believe he had cheated on her.
Someone knocked and gave her the two-minute warning. Taking several deep breaths, she forced herself to regain her composure. Once she did, she opened the door and breezed back to the greenroom.
“I’m ready for my hair and make-up retouches now,” she told the staff coolly.
The show must go on.
Chapter 2
SEBASTIAN was focused. He and his team had to be fearless tonight. Controlling this raging fire had already been hell. Sirens wailed and the sound grew louder as an ambulance hurtled to a halt near the curb. Uniformed police officers were already onsite, struggling to maintain the perimeter with the expanding crowd. The once sleepy neighborhood street transformed into a scene from any family’s worst nightmare.
Neighbors gathered outside the burning single story residence, their concerned faces illuminated by the orange and red flames lighting up the dark night sky. The voices in the growing crowd didn’t help. They blended into a monotone rumble, except for one frantic cry that overruled all the noise. Sebastian noticed a woman running up to him, dressed only in a tattered robe, with bare feet and wild hair.
“They’re still in there!” she screamed. “My babies are still in their bedroom! I couldn’t get to them! Oh my God!”
Sebastian was one of the firefighters preparing to enter the house. Others were on the hoses, raining down high arcs of water from several directions. Somehow, the wild flames still pushed dangerously through the windows that had been shattered. The fire was fully involved by then. It took several police officers to safely pull the panicked mother out of harm’s way, and to keep her from trying to re-enter the house. Sebastian felt for her. She had to be feeling overwhelmed with uncertainty.
“We’re going in now, ma’am,” he reassured her as his team geared up to enter.
Time was of the essence. Within moments, he was the first one through the front door of the house. Inside, all he could hear was the deafening hiss of steam as water hit the flames nearby. Three more firefighters followed behind him. None of them were deterred by the wall of fire blocking their path. This was what they were trained to face as a search-and-rescue unit.
“Keep going, guys. Watch your step,” he called out to encourage his crew. They split into two teams so they could cover more ground. No matter how many times he did this, he always got that nervous feeling. As lead man, he was confident in his abilities. He was the right person for the job, and responsible for his team. He knew how high the stakes were, for them and the people they were sent in to save. It was a lot on any one man’s shoulders, but he refused to doubt himself in the heat of the moment. Not this night. Not when there were children relying on him, and a woman out there who would die inside if he didn’t get them out safely.
He struggled between breaths to listen for the sound of children’s voices. The monstrous roar of the fire and his rapid, shallow inhales and exhales through the breathing apparatus drowned out some of the noise. There were also pops and creaks of walls settling, glass breaking, water cascading down walls, things falling around them—everything but the sound he was desperately trying to hear.
Please, let them be alive.
He methodically moved through the house. From the living room, through the kitchen, and into a short corridor that led to several bedrooms, he and his men waded through what felt like the bowels of hell. In the back of his mind, he tried to keep track of the slow-paced movement of time. As slow as it felt, he knew they were running out of it. Behind him, everywhere the fire had died down, there was stillness and quiet. The firefighters outside were making progress. Through the smoke up ahead, he could make out a faint orange glow. It was the last of the crackling fire in this part of the house. But the smoke was too thick for him to see much else. He began to move more quickly. Those kids were running out of air.
Just as he made it to the last bedroom of the house, he bumped into an oddly placed piece of furniture. It sat smack in the middle of the hallway, and stopped him dead in his tracks. Searing pain shot through his knee.
“Dammit!” he growled through gritted teeth.
“You alright, Bash?”
He felt a hand on his shoulder. His teammate, Jeff Barker, gestured for Sebastian to get back outside to tend to his injury.
“I’m fine,” he shouted back, tensing through the pain until it became a dull throb.
He took careful steps, and there was almost no visible limp. He was too close to turn back now. Pushing into the bedroom, he called out the kid’s names. He looked past the blaze at the bed in the middle of the room. The flickering light illuminated a child-size bundle beneath the covers. He groaned in dread. Then, suddenly he heard it. It was the sound of coughs and sobs, coming from the closet.
He turned to Jeff. “I can hear them!”
With his heart racing, he tested the heat of the door handle. Gesturing for Jeff to stand back, Sebastian carefully opened the closet door. Each of them gathered up a child in their arms. They signaled the other two firefighters performing search-and-rescue, and everyone made it out of the house alive. Outside, he and Jeff passed the kids to the paramedics. The children’s mother showed her heart-felt relief. She kissed her little ones over and over as they were placed into gurneys and lifted into the back of an ambulance.
As Sebastian stepped away from the happy reunion, his leg seized. His knee was injured more seriously than he had first thought.
“Just give it to me straight, Dr. Orwell.”
Sebastian was itching to finish up his visit to the emergency room. Flexing his knee, he looked at the x-rays that the orthopedic surgeon loaded on the computer screen.
“See this here and here?” the doctor asked, pointing out two sections with a stylus. “That’s a rip in your meniscus, and those are some tiny bone fragments in the joint space. It’s nothing life-threatening, but it’s going to keep you off that leg for a few weeks, and it’s going to require—”
“Don’t say it,” Sebastian groaned.
“Surgery,” he answered. “Yes, I know that’s not what you want to hear, but we can’t have those fragments moving around. We’ll want to take a closer look by doing an arthroscopy. It’s a simple procedure. We’ll go in with a camera and see what can be repaired. The good news is we can fix it once we know more. For now, you can start some physical therapy, get the arthroscopy procedure, and eventually, you’ll be back on your feet.”
“What’s the bad news?”
“You’ll be out of work for a few months.”
Dammit.
“Did you say months?”
Dr. Orwell nodded, anticipating his protests. He waved his hands to stop Sebastian before he went too much further. “Call it a vacation, Mr. Sullivan. First thing tomorrow, you’ll need to schedule a visit with our day clinic orthopedic surgeon. I can prescribe some anti-inflammatories for you now. I hope you reported this to your employer before you left work tonight.”
“Yes,” Sebastian grumbled, thinking of all the paperwork he had to complete for worker’s compensation to be processed. At least he had great insurance. The fire department took excellent care of its staff.
Dr. Orwell exc
used himself to see another patient. Sebastian carefully hopped off the examination table and got dressed. He had already been fitted with a brace, and was administered a steroid shot. Thankfully, it made the stiffening joint pain more manageable, although now, his limp had become more pronounced. By the time he filled the prescription and drove home, it was after midnight.
He parked his Jeep outside the three-car garage at his house. It was times like this he wished he had installed a garage door opener. With this injury, manually lifting the heavy door was out of the question. He would park in the driveway for a while. He sat there for a minute, gazing up at the split-level, three-story home he had inherited from his late parents. It was a comfortable and attractive house; prime real estate in a cul-de-sac slightly out of his tax bracket. He didn’t quite fit the profile of his well-off, mostly middle-aged neighbors, but as he had lived there all his life, he got along with them well enough.
For the three years since he had moved back in, he made sure the place kept its curb appeal. He landscaped the lawn, kept the shrubbery trimmed, and suspended colorful hanging plants along the porch every spring. He was no home designer, but got compliments on the great job his contractor had done during a renovation last year. He had even splurged and got them to install a large pair of bay windows that extended from the main floor up to the third level. It wasn’t the largest house on the street, but it held its own, and still felt like home to Sebastian.
He suppressed a cry of discomfort as he climbed out of the Jeep. The effect of the steroid was wearing off. He hobbled along the dim sidewalk, lit only by the streetlight, until he was up the three steps that took him through the short, winding walkway to his front porch. This design was such a good idea at the time. In hindsight, he hadn’t thought of ease-of-access when the landscaper had recommended it.
By now, Sebastian was in a foul mood. He was returning to an empty house. He would give almost anything to walk in and know someone would be there for him. Frustrated, he fumbled in his pocket for keys and opened the front door. He stepped in and let the door slam behind him, grumbling as he allowed himself an extra-long moment of self-pity.
Hollywood Undercover Page 2
