“Come on, Kendra, dance with us,” some folks I’d known back in high school—invited with their parents and grandparents to the party—called out to me.
My leg was aching like crazy. I shook my head. “I’m taking a break.”
“And she needs to get me a bottle of water,” Grandma said, covering for me. “It’s hot out here tonight!”
“Right on it, Grandma,” I said, trying to hurry as much as possible to the bar. I didn’t want to limp, but I also didn’t want it to be obvious that I wasn’t dancing for a reason. I waited patiently for one bartender to come to where I stood. I got a bottle of water and a glass of wine, and then I headed back to where Grandma was.
“Slow down on the wine drinking, baby girl,” Grandma told me in a soft voice as she accepted the water from me. “You don’t want to take a spill with your leg still so unsteady.”
“Don’t worry. I’m pacing myself,” I promised before walking away to find a seat where I could rest for a bit without being too obvious about it. I relaxed, chatting with some of Grandma’s older friends who weren’t as robust as her.
Ruth walked over to me, taking a seat. “You look so good, Kendra.” She smiled. “You know we’re all proud of you, right?”
“Oh, I appreciate it,” I replied, smiling at her.
“And you’re a real beauty,” Mabel, another one of Grandma’s friends, said, leaning a bit into her chair. She had had a little more of the wine than she could handle, and her granddaughter was off getting her some food. “Why are you still single?”
“My job keeps me busy,” I replied.
“Hogwash,” Mabel countered. “You’re a diamond. Any man in his right mind can see that from a mile away. Or maybe they’re too stupid to recognize wife potential.” She squinted at me. “Now, tell me what the men are like out there in the big city.”
I shrugged. “They’re the same as they are everywhere else.”
Both old women laughed.
“I seem to recall that city men at least take some pride in their appearance,” Ruth commented. “We used to go into New York for a week in the summer, and girl, let me tell you—”
Mabel interrupted her. “Oh, you can’t tell her about that! She’ll never believe that old women like us used to go pick up hot men.”
I snorted into my glass of wine. “Considering some of Grandma’s stories and warnings, I would absolutely believe it.”
“Well, that was back in the day, when they were cracking down on marijuana,” Ruth mused. “But you could still get ‘special’ cigarettes if you knew somebody in Harlem or Brooklyn.”
I arched a brow. “Y’all got high?”
“Not like folks do today,” Mabel told me. “You know, now that they made it legal here. I’ve been curious to see what it’s like nowadays.”
“It’s still illegal down there in New York, right?” Ruth asked.
I nodded. “They started trying to pass a law to decriminalize it,” I explained, “but it failed. They’re still working on legalizing it.”
“You know, I agree with legalizing it,” Ruth said. “If you let people get drunk, you might as well let them get high.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Well, I can’t take a position. I’ve got to enforce the law.”
Mabel gave me a shrewd look. “And then once it becomes legal, you can say what you want about it?”
I laughed and took a sip of my wine before saying, “When it becomes legal, we’ll see.”
I stayed a little while longer, chatting with Grandma’s friends before my stomach began rumbling. Getting up, I started toward the food tables—it was a buffet, with some servers from the country club wandering around with other little bites and nibbles. Grabbing some chicken and a few pieces of fresh fruit, I gobbled it down.
Taking the last bite, I handed off my plate to a busser when I heard a sharp, loud crack. My heart pounded in my chest.
Three more quick, loud explosions pierced the air, and I nearly dropped to the ground on pure instinct. I glanced around for the source of the noise. The rational part of my brain knew it wasn’t gunshots. I spotted the kids off to the side of the party, running away from the firecrackers they’d set off. Half a dozen more pops shattered the air, startling about half of the partiers—but no one reacted too badly. Except for me.
The firecrackers kept going off, and my heart raced.
Cold sweat trickled down the small of my back.
I shivered. The horrible memory of the feeling of the bullets hitting me came back in a rush. I brushed my trembling fingers against the leg where the bullet had torn into me. More pops cut through the air, making me want to run and scream. But I just stood there terrified, while hearing the echoes of my partner’s shouts in my head.
“You okay, Kendra?” someone asked. I didn’t even know or care who it was.
My voice shook when I replied, “Yeah, I’m okay.” I had to get out of there before I made a bigger ass of myself. “I need to use the restroom. Be back in a second.” I hurried back toward the inside of the building.
Once I got into the clubhouse, I made a beeline for the restrooms. I sighed with relief that the bathroom was quiet and empty. I went into a stall, closing my eyes and forcing myself to take deep, calming breaths like the department’s shrink had taught me.
I’m having a bad reaction.
It’s normal for things to remind me of that day.
It’s normal to not be okay yet.
I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
I am in a safe place.
The noise was fireworks.
After a few minutes, my heart started to slow down, and some adrenaline evaporated out of my system. Walking out of the stall, I checked my face in the mirror. My amber skin was dewy, and my hazel eyes were a tad bit red. Pulling out blotting paper from my clutch, I pressed it to my face before applying more lip gloss to my full lips. As I took another deep breath, I smoothed down my hair before leaving the bathroom and walking back into the party.
“Here comes the cake!” Ruth called out from some corner of the celebration.
I made my way to Grandma, giving her a quick hug. A big commotion caught both our attention—a group of hunky firefighters carrying a large cake.
“Since there are so many candles on this,” Mabel said, barely keeping in her laughter, “we thought it would be best to get the fire experts to bring it in.”
I laughed along with everyone else as the group of firefighters brought the cake to Grandma. They’d decked out the cake in candles—I didn’t envy whoever had been in charge of lighting all of them. The firefighters were hot, inspiring plenty of hoots and hollers from the tipsy women at the party.
As the men got closer, I recognized one or two of them from high school. A few of the guys in the group I didn’t recognize at all. They must have moved to town after I left.
They presented the cake to Grandma for her to try to blow out all the candles, and my breath caught when I spotted him. The boy, now a gorgeous man, who had been my best friend until a fire had made him disappear from my life.
Lukas Koch.
3
Lukas
Seeing Kendra at her grandmother’s side was enough of a shock that I had to make sure I didn’t drop my corner of the cake. I held it together and pretended like I didn’t even notice her, while Pearl Hornsby extinguished the candles in three quick blows. Pearl had donated to the fire department for years, so the chief had been on board with her friends’ suggestion that we bring in the cake as a little joke.
“I’m just glad we didn’t have to get out the hose,” Blake, one of my friends in the department, joked.
“You better not have had them ready,” Ruth called out. “We spent good money on that cake.” Everyone laughed, and we set down the cake on the table someone had brought out specifically for it to let the servers cut and serve it all around. It was—as Ruth had pointed out—an expensive cake, made by a local
bakery that Kendra’s grandmother loved.
I tried not to be so obvious while watching Kendra taking her piece of cake. Damn, she’s beautiful. Somehow, she looked exactly like she had back then and different, all at the same time. She was tall and curvy. Her jet-black hair was longer. Her face was a little rounder. And fuck…her full, pouty lips stirred up wicked, carnal thoughts.
The last time I’d seen Kendra, we had both been at the end of high school, technically adults but only just barely. Now, there was something sexy about her that hadn’t been there when we’d been in school together—or maybe I just hadn’t noticed it back then. Either way, she was definitely a woman, but she still looked like the fierce girl who’d frequently been in my corner.
Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I drifted away to get some food and a beer since I wasn’t on the clock. I thought about talking to Kendra, but I couldn’t make myself do it. What would I even say? I’d disappeared right after my mother’s funeral, without even saying goodbye to Kendra or anyone else. Over the years since I’d been back in town, I’d made things right with most of the friends I’d had who were still around, but Kendra was the one person I desperately wanted to apologize to. But would she forgive me?
“Lukas, get over here,” Pearl said, spotting me in the crowd. Kendra was right next to her. I grinned, making my way over in long strides.
“How’s the cake, Mrs. Hornsby?” I asked.
Pearl laughed, shaking her head. “As good as any cake from Harlequin Bakery.” She patted my arm. “Now that I got you over here, you and Kendra can catch up. Maybe you can talk her into staying for a good long while.” Pearl moved away from Kendra’s side faster than I would have thought possible for a seventy-five-year-old woman to do.
For a second, neither of us said anything. It was weird, seeing her again. I hadn’t thought I’d ever really see Kendra after I first came back and heard she’d moved down to New York City. Her life in the city agreed with her.
“She’s got a point, you know,” I said, smiling.
Kendra laughed. “Yeah, I’m not sure she’s ever even met subtlety. How long have you been back in town, Lukas?” She looked me over. “I guess probably a while now.”
“A few years,” I answered. “And you’ve been down in New York all this time, right?”
Kendra nodded. “Yes, I went to the NYPD after I finished my degree. Just recently worked my way up to detective.”
“Congratulations. But you’ve always been smart, ambitious, and beautiful,” I said.
“Thank you,” she replied. “But it was hard work. I’ve made a lot of sacrifices to get the job.”
“Let me guess.” I arched a brow. “They surprised you when you got it, but no one else was?”
Kendra rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. “And you, Mr. Big Bad Firefighter. I never figured you’d be back in town. You could have at least called me—maybe I’d have visited sooner.” She placed her hands on her hips.
“Work keeps me busy,” I said. “But you know what that’s like. I’m sure they keep you busy down there in the big city.”
“Yes, very busy. There hasn’t been too much time for anything but work,” Kendra agreed.
I was smiling despite myself. Just being around her again reminded me of when I’d been in school. The good stuff—not the things I’d worked so hard to forget and put behind me. Around Kendra, there was that familiar feeling, something I hadn’t felt with any of the women in the past.
“Not even dating?” I asked boldly. I wanted—no, needed—to know.
“No.” Kendra shook her head. “But I finally have some time on my hands, so maybe it’s time to change that.” She winked at me saucily.
Was she always this hot? We’d only ever been friends, but with both of us grown up a bit…
The DJ changed the song, and I recognized it in an instant. Kendra groaned when she heard it too and looked around—I assumed to see if it was her grandmother who’d made the song request.
“It’s a popular song,” I pointed out.
Kendra laughed. “It’s a decade old,” she countered.
“It is ‘our’ song,” I replied.
The opening of “Mr. Brightside” shifted into the first verse, and I held out my hand to her. “Come on. Let’s do this.”
“Hard pass,” she answered before giving me a grin.
“Scared this German white boy could outdance you?”
She burst out laughing. “You couldn’t in high school, and I doubt you can now.”
“Then dance with me, Kendra Powell,” I demanded.
Kendra raised an eyebrow then put her hand in mine. We moved to where more people were dancing and started moving to the beat of the music, just the way we had a decade before. But a decade before, we’d been on the verge of graduating high school, at the prom together as friends.
We sang along with the words; it wasn’t possible not to. As we kept dancing, I noticed Kendra wasn’t a little slower just because we were both closer to thirty than twenty. She moved, and I saw her wince. She was favoring one leg, putting all of her weight on the other in a way she never had when we’d been friends as kids. Maybe she’d fucked up her other knee in the line of duty, but she didn’t act like someone dealing with an old injury. It looked like something I’d seen in the men I’d served with in the military when I was fresh out of high school and sent overseas by the US government.
The song ended, and I noticed Kendra was limping a bit as we headed back to where we’d been standing before our dance.
Moving a little closer to her, I said, “Here,” offering her my arm to lean on.
She stopped, giving my arm the once-over. “Well, look at your Thor-like arm,” she started. “I don’t remember you having all this muscle potential in high school.” Her lips tilted up at the corners as she teasingly touched the bulging muscles pressed against the material of my dress shirt. “Now stop being such a show-off. You’re making the other men jealous.”
I couldn’t help the laughter that boomed out of me. “You’re such a smartass.” Pushing a stray curl behind her ear, I continued. “But this isn’t about my spectacular guns. Just grab on to my arm.”
Her eyes twinkled with laughter. “Okay, if you insist.” She looped her arm over mine, pressing her luscious curves against my side.
Loving how good Kendra felt against me, I swallowed hard, tamping down my rising desire to push her into a corner, take her lips in a passionate kiss, and show her I was no longer the shy boy she once knew.
Shit, Lukas. Get your head out of the gutter.
I needed a distraction from my dirty thoughts, so I asked the next logical question on my mind. “I take it whatever happened to your leg isn’t common knowledge?”
Kendra gave me the wry look I immediately recognized, and it was like nothing had changed in the ten years since I’d last seen her.
“It’s not a fresh injury, but it’s not fully healed,” Kendra replied as I led her over to some chairs set up in the corner. She sat down and I followed, taking a seat in front of her.
“What happened?” I inquired. “Or do you not want to say?” Even though I knew good and damned well that Kendra Powell could take care of herself—I’d seen her in action well before she’d ever been a cop—someone had hurt her, and that was more than enough to rile up my protective instincts.
Her gaze darted away then back to me. “They call it an ‘officer-involved shooting incident.’” She pressed her palms against the top of her thighs. “Someone injured me.” She sighed heavily. “It’ll heal. But for now, it’s still stiff and achy.”
“Did the bullet get you in the thigh?” I asked.
“Yes,” she croaked. “It’s one of those things—they give you a bulletproof vest to keep you from getting hit in the major organs, but your body’s more than that.”
I had to know more, so I pushed the line of conversation. “I knew a guy back in the day—different unit from mine but same division. He got some shrapnel in an IED
attack, and they put him on PT.” I paused. “They have you doing physical therapy, right?”
Kendra nodded. “Lots of it.” Her lips twisted wryly. “The PT said I could expect to get seventy-five-percent function back. I’m supposed to continue doing it while I’m here since I know all the exercises.”
“You’d better,” I told her. “And if you want a workout buddy, I’m here for you.”
“You look like you’re no stranger to the gym,” she mused while looking me over. There was a glint of appreciation in her eyes that made me want to preen like a peacock.
“Unfortunately, ever since I left the military, I don’t work out as much as I used to. So, all this—” I flexed the muscles in my arms playfully “—is pure white-boy magic.”
She chuckled. “Lukas, you’re still crazy as ever.”
I loved the way her face lit up when she laughed. I sat back a bit in my chair and grinned. “I see you still love wearing all black.” I ran a finger across her knee.
Kendra laughed. “It’s my signature color, even though Grandma is always whining about wanting to see me in something else besides black.”
“In fairness to her, it’s the truth,” I chided. “Throughout high school, you wore nothing but black, even to prom.” I smiled just remembering the battle Kendra had with her grandmother over what to wear to prom. Pearl told her that unless she wore a dress, Kendra wouldn’t get to wear her mother’s pearls to the dance. So, in typical Kendra fashion, she’d chosen a dress that looked as much like a tux as possible—black and white, with a bow in the front and tails at the back. It had looked hot on her, I’d had to admit.
Kendra rolled her eyes. “You two don’t count with my clothes selection.” She ran her fingers through her thick, shoulder-length hair.
“I’m not complaining, Kendra.” Acting on instinct, I reached forward, tracing a finger across her cheek. “I bet you would look killer in something black, lace, and barely there.”
HEART OF FIRE Page 2
