by Romy Sommer
Blaze
The Minxes of Romance
Blaze features 8 scorching tales by The Minxes of Romance:
Maya Blake
Sally Clements
Catherine Coles
Jodie James
Tara Pammi
Suzanna Ross
Romy Sommer
Lorraine Wilson
The tiny village of Coombethwaite in the English Lake District is the setting for the stories in Blaze, the first anthology from The Minxes of Romance.
Romance is in the air for Coombethwaite’s retained firefighters, and none of them will escape its heat unscorched!
To find out more about The Minxes, visit their blog:
Minxes of Romance
Cover by Heather Howland
Contents:
Memory’s Flame by Maya Blake
The Fire Inside by Romy Sommer
A Smouldering Attraction by Suzanna Ross
Locked Into Love by Catherine Coles
Hot, Bothered and Bewitched by Jodie James
Lighting Love’s Spark by Sally Clements
Worth the Risk by Tara Pammi
A Kindling Romance by Lorraine Wilson
Dear Reader
Memory’s Flame
Maya Blake
Kindle Edition. Copyright © 2012 Maya Blake
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Chapter One
She was back in Coombethwaite.
Seven days away from the Big 3-0 and her life had come full circle. Ellie Cochran glanced out the window of her late grandfather’s three hundred year old stone cottage to make sure no one was watching.
Coombethwaite, Northwest England—population eight hundred.
Enough souls to ensure there was always gossip to go around. And yet, growing up here, it’d seemed as if she had been the sole grist for the village’s gossip mill.
Even after she’d left. Especially after she’d left if her grandfather’s gruff reports had been anything to go by. Apparently, her weekly film critic column in the nation’s top newspaper was enough to keep the village residents in full tittle-tattle flow.
She pulled a light cotton shirt over her tank top and buttoned it up. Over her fair hair she tugged Grandpa’s old beanie and settled it low on her forehead. If it had been daylight instead of a cool June night, she’d have added a pair of shades to complete the camouflage.
A mocking voice asked why she bothered.
Grandpa’s funeral had been very well attended yesterday. By now everyone knew she was back. The rumour mill was working overtime.
But the frantic need to get away from the cottage for just a little while stormed through her. She checked one last time to make sure the oven setting was right for the small casserole she’d shoved in there fifteen minutes ago. Pulling open the door, she cast a glance up and down the quiet street, and stepped out.
In exactly seven days, she’d be gone. Tomorrow, she had an appointment with the estate agent in the morning, then the plumber and electrician in the afternoon. She needed the work to Grandpa’s cottage done ASAP. She was prepared to pay through the nose for ASAP because the need to be gone from here was worth going broke over. Not that she was near bankruptcy. Her success at her job ensured she was comfortable.
Her job.
Yet another thing Grandpa had hated…
Up ahead, the glow of light brightened as the doors to the Rose and Crown Pub opened. Ellie darted into Coombe Street as several men spilled onto the street. Under the cloak of darkness she hesitated, her attention caught by the familiar build of one man. Was it him?
So far she’d been able to avoid him. And if there was a God above, she’d be able to keep a low enough profile to avoid running into—
He turned sharply, as if sensing her gaze.
Ellie jumped back further into the darkness, sucked in a breath and quickened her steps towards her destination. She didn’t need to see if she’d been right.
According to Grandpa, Trouble had been her middle name.
But for the next seven days, she intended to avoid even the faintest whiff of it.
#
Jake turned back to his colleagues, the tingle in his nape abating with a roll of his shoulders. He was tired. If he’d had his way he’d have taken his pint sprawled on his sofa in front of his TV watching mindless drivel, not in the Rose and Crown with Ben watching his mates who weren't on call from the fire station playing the tired game of let's-out-drink-each-other.
But he’d been away for the past fortnight. And it seemed everyone wanted to know every last detail about the famous London Fire Brigade—right down to the colour of the Fire Chief’s boxers!
Was it any wonder he imagined he was being watched from the shadows?
“Guys, I’m calling it a night.” He needed a shave, a shower, and sleep, and not necessarily in that order.
Ben, his twin brother, eyed him with a smirk. “Don’t tell me you’re worn out from the bright lights in the big city. You’re getting soft in your old age, bro.”
“I’m older than you by two minutes, not two years, so enough with the old. And you’d be worn out too if you had to listen to you bang on about nothing for three hours straight.”
“At least tell me you got lucky in London. Or made an attempt to engage a member of the opposite sex in any sort of communication?” His brother pleaded almost wearily.
For a second, Jake wanted to snarl that all guys weren’t as lucky at pulling as his twin seemed to be. He barely stopped himself.
Deep down he knew the reason why. Even after all these years, he hated himself for the mental yardstick he attached to every potential relationship, where every woman was judged and found lacking. Sure, he’d indulged in the odd no-strings relationship, but every single one of them inevitably fizzled out.
He was so tired of the chase, there’d been no one in the last year; not since he turned thirty. More and more he’d begun to wonder if there ever would be. And the more he wondered, the more he hated himself for it.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come back to mine to watch the footie?” Nick, his soon-to-be-married friend offered.
“No, thanks all the same. I’ll catch up with you on Monday. Or if I’m called out before then.” He was on call for the next forty-eight hours.
He shrugged off more ‘light weight’ jokes, stuffed his hands into the pockets of his lambs’ wool jacket and struck out towards his house.
His footsteps slowed as he reached Coombe Street. Although the soft street lamps showed no one in sight, again his nape tingled. With stiffened shoulders, he quickened his steps past Mrs Cromaty’s house before the nosy old gal stepped out to casually catch sight of him. He didn’t feel like another good-natured interrogation, even though it would take a Spanish Inquisition to make him admit the stupid thing he’d done whilst in London.
He made it safely past her house and o
nto Prince Lane. With relief, he fished out his keys.
It’d barely scraped through the keyhole of his beloved barn conversion when the explosion ripped through the night air behind him.
Chapter Two
At first Ellie thought the sound was fireworks. From her crouched position at her grandfather’s graveside, she looked up into the sky, and waited expectantly for the shower of coloured lights.
It never came. She held her breath, her heart climbing into her throat as the implication of what it could be sank in. Letting go of the flowers she’d been arranging over her grandfather’s grave, she slowly rose, almost afraid to look down the hill towards Grandpa’s cottage.
No…Dear God, please. No.
Faulty wires…not so sure about the gas connections either. The words of the surveyor filtered through her head. What were the chances…? Striding to the fence she’d scaled minutes ago, she clambered over it again, the old habit slipping back on like a favourite glove. Her landing wasn’t as smooth as it’d been on the way into the graveyard and she felt a tear as she let go of the fence. Great, a pair of designer jeans, ruined.
From her position on the hill beside St Peter’s Church, she saw the first signs of smoke and her heart climbed into her throat. She quickened her steps just as the faint sound of a fire engine’s siren whistled through the air.
Please, please, please…
She rushed past Mrs Cromaty’s and sure enough, the curtain twitched as the old woman went into full spy mode.
People were beginning to spill out onto the streets as she broke into a run. The sight of flames licking up one side of her childhood home ripped a sob from her throat.
“No!”
Ellie didn’t slow down. Flames and smoke spilled out of the back, where the kitchen was located. With any luck she’d be able to get in the front door and do something…anything, before the flames took proper hold.
Pulling the beanie off her head, she held it in front of her face, and lunged for the front door. Her fingers connected with the doorknob just as strong arms snagged her waist and yanked her away.
“I’m not sure whether you’re stupid or plain crazy, or whether fires burn differently where you come from but there’s no way I’m letting you enter a thatched cottage on fire, Ellie.”
Shock ripped through her. She struggled to free herself. When the arms loosened, she turned and found herself face to face with Jake Spencer…her one time best friend. And the reason she’d left and stayed away from Coombethwaite.
#
Jake was thankful he didn’t have time to dwell on the expressions criss-crossing Ellie Cochran’s face.
Without stopping to think about it, he swung her into his arms and marched across the street, far beyond harm’s reach just as Coombethwaite’s single fire engine arrived.
“Stay here, and don’t even think about going anywhere near that cottage.”
Her lips—still bow-shaped and as tempting as hell, pursed. “But—”
“But nothing. Stay here and let me do my job, Ellie, or I’ll get one of the other guys to come and physically restrain you.” Over his shoulder, Ben and other members of the fire crew were already setting up the hose. The explosion had blown out the kitchen window and flames now licked dangerously close to the thatched roof. If it took hold, there would be no saving Cochran Cottage.
“I’d forgotten how bossy you can get.”
“I haven’t forgotten how impetuous and hot-headed you can get. I can’t worry about you pulling a fast one if I leave you alone, but if you want me to save your grandfather’s cottage I need you to promise you’ll stay here.”
Her lips pursed further but the look she shot him contained a hint of sadness that tugged at him.
“I’ll stay here. Go.”
He nodded and released her. She caught his arm as he turned. “There’s a box in the second bedroom…under the bed. If you can, please save it."
"I'll do my best. And, Ellie?”
“Yes?
“It’s nice to see you.”
Her lips lifted in a smile that didn’t reach the sadness in her eyes.
“It’s nice to see you, too.” She glanced at the smoking cottage and her eyes darkened. The old protectiveness he’d always felt towards her pushed forward.
“Don’t worry, I’ll do my best. Do you have any idea how the fire started?”
“Casserole in the old gas oven. Or it could’ve been the wires. I think they’re faulty.”
“Okay.” Pulling his helmet firmly onto his head, he bent forward and walked through the front door. Memories crowded in as he glanced around the small living room. He’d spent many stolen hours in here with Ellie when her grandfather had been away. Hours he’d mistakenly hoped would stretch into a lifetime.
Smoke flowed from under the kitchen door, which had thankfully been pulled shut. Jake breathed a sigh of relief. So far the fire seemed contained only to the kitchen but they had to act fast. Ben came up behind him with two canisters—one carbon dioxide, one water.
He glanced at his brother. “You yakked at me for three hours straight the minute I got off the train, but you couldn’t find ten seconds to tell me she was back?”
Ben shrugged. “I figured you’d find out anyway. And frankly, I wanted to delay the return of the look.”
Jake frowned. “What look?”
“The one you’re wearing right now. The one that says I-don’t-know-whether-to-scream-with-happiness-or-shoot-myself-in-the-head. Face it bro, Ellie always had that effect on you. I thought you deserved a good night’s sleep before getting hit upside the head with that news. Of course, I should’ve known when she returned it would be with a bloody bang.”
“Whatever you think of her, I don’t believe Ellie is the type to deliberately get careless about fires.”
Ben’s jaw tightened. “Yeah, that’s another reason I didn’t tell you she was back. Even after twelve years, you still jump to her defence at every turn.”
A bang on the door from the other side signalled it was safe to go in. Jake glared at his brother. “Maybe I wouldn't have to, if anyone gave her a chance.”
He grabbed one canister from his brother, pulled off the nozzle tab and with a deep breath, headed towards the kitchen.
#
Ellie stood on the pavement, frozen despite the activity surging around her. She wasn’t sure which part of the unfolding situation shocked her most – her burning cottage or the fact that she’d come face to face with Jake Spencer for the first time in twelve years.
The memory of him lifting and holding her close slowly fizzled through her, unfreezing her senses. A loud crash ripped through the air, galvanizing her forward. She was at the door when it opened. Jake filled the frame, blocking her way.
“What happened?” she demanded, trying to look over his shoulder.
“One of the kitchen cupboards fell down. The whole wall is seriously damaged but we managed to put the fire out before it touched the roof.”
“Can I go in?”
He grabbed her arm and steered her back to the pavement. “No, we have to make sure everything's secure first.”
“I have to—”
“Whatever you have to do can wait until the cottage is safe. I hope you’re not thinking you can stay here tonight?”
She frowned. “If the damage is only in the kitchen, why can’t I stay here after you’ve secured it?”
“The smell of smoke for a start. And there’s no electricity and no gas. We’ve turned them both off as a safety precaution. As the explosion also damaged part of the water pipes, the kitchen’s flooded, so there's no water either.”
Ellie licked her lips as the words sank in. “So you’re saying…”
“Until we declare the cottage safe and the fire inspector has been and approved any repairs, you can’t stay here.”
She closed her eyes as despair raked through her. So much for keeping a low profile and making a quick exit. “Dammit. Where am I going to go?” She wasn’t aware
she’d whispered the words aloud until Jake’s hand tightened on her arm.
She glanced up to find his intent gaze on her face. He seemed to be gauging her reaction. The reason became clear seconds later.
“I have a spare room. You're coming to stay with me.”
Chapter Three
Ellie sucked in a breath and immediately shook her head. “No, that’s very generous of you but I can’t. Thanks, anyway.”
Jake’s jaw clenched at how easily she’d dismissed him. The memories that intruded this time weren’t fond ones. They were ones of Ellie walking away as if what they’d shared meant nothing to her. As if she wasn’t trampling on his heart.
“Unless you’re planning on camping in the park or sleeping on the village square bench, I’d take the offer if I were you.”
“But there’s no need. Coombethwaite Hotel—”
“Is fully booked. Nick is getting married next week. As of tomorrow, his fiancée’s guests are arriving from all over the country for the pre-wedding shindigs they’ve planned. Even the motel and student’s hostel are taken.”
“But…won’t your…wife object?”
His hand dropped. “If that’s a subtle way of trying to find out if I’m married, the answer is no. No wife, no girlfriend. And I’ll make sure my blow-up doll is well hidden.” His attempt at a grin faded when her face remained serious. “That was a joke, by the way.”
“Jake…”
He almost groaned at the never-quite-forgotten raspy sound of his name on her lips.
“What, are jokes forbidden in London these days?”
Her sigh blew the honey-coloured fringe off her forehead. The curls tumbling down her shoulders made his fingers itch to feel their softness again. He clenched his gloved hands into fists and kept them at his sides.
“Of course not. Just that…” She paused and looked around. Hastily averted gazes of curious residents made her lips firm before she stepped closer. “I don’t want to set tongues wagging again, Jake. I really just wanted to bury my grandfather quietly, put his affairs in order and leave.”
