Slow Burn (The Burn Series Book 4)

by Dee Ellis

  By

  Dee Ellis

  Slow Burn by Dee Ellis

  © 2017 by Dee Ellis. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles or reviews and pages where permission is specifically granted by the publisher or author.

  Cover Design: Dee Ellis for Indies Ink

  Interior Design: Dee Ellis for Indies Ink

  Publisher: Dee Ellis

  ISBN 13: 978-1548585587& ISBN 10: 1548585580

  1. Romance 2. New Adult 3. Erotica

  First Edition

  Printed in The U.S.A.

  Slow Burn

  Levi Holt’s an old soul. Married fast, he hoped to build a life with his wife and fight fires with his brothers. Too bad his wife didn’t get the memo that a wedding band meant her Badge Bunnie ways should have ended. Just after the ink is dry in his divorce, he finds a new girl stealing his heart. The tiny baby that his former wife swears is his. Now Levi’s old soul is uncertain if he’s the right guy to raise the little Princess.

  Brynn Gold is in Chicago for all the wrong reasons. Any reason, really. No one needs to know why she doesn’t want to go home. Especially not the tiny Princess that she agrees to help Levi take care of. That adorable baby, and Levi himself, make her heart burn with what she had to give up. Something Brynn doesn’t think she should get to feel the warmth of ever again.

  Levi thinks she does and he’s willing to risk getting burned again to prove it.

  1

  LEVI

  I mean, she was kind of cute. Dark reddish hair. Pretty eyes. Brightest green I had ever seen. Maybe she was more than cute. Looking up at me like that. My chest ached a little when I smiled down at that pretty face and she kind of smiled back.

  Then she started crying. Never heard anything like that. Wailing, sobbing. Little face turned pink and her tiny hands shook in the air. Gasps shook her body and I panicked. I bent and scooped her up and just like that, she stopped. Beside me, I heard a sound of surprise.

  “What was that dirty whore thinking?” I felt the need to protect the tiny ears of the baby I was holding.

  “Jesus, Finn. Baby present, you dickwad.” I cooed at the baby like I knew what I was doing.

  “Because that’s better than calling her whore mother what she is. Isabel did what now?”

  “Left. Dropped her off here and bailed. Told me it was my turn. Didn’t want to be a mother.”

  Apparently, I was a father.

  Eight months ago, my wife Isabel walked out on me. Well actually, I walked in on her fucking a cop I thought was a buddy. Mistaken assumption on my part. I mean, he was at our wedding reception. Then again so was half of the Chicago Fire, Rescue and Police force. Even the ones she had fucked her way through.

  Clearly, she had not been finished. Finn, Cage and Hunter, all my closest friends at Ladder 71 had warned me about her. All three, except Cage, had a run at her. In fact, pretty sure Finn and Hunter shared her once or twice. I was an idiot but I thought I saved her from being that kind of girl. A fucking badge bunny.

  Stupidest shit I ever heard, badge bunny. We didn’t even call them that, not really. They embraced the name though. Called each other bunnies and some of them, the invested bitches, got tattoos on their thighs of a bunny prints. That stupid tattoo was as bad as a Scarlet A if you asked me.

  I took a girl home a few weeks after Isabel left. Dropped to my knees, shoved her thighs open, ready to eat myself some retribution. Instead, I saw that tattoo on her thigh. Hard-on gone. I mean, I still let her suck my dick but it took some work on her part. She was a bunny, she knew what to do.

  I was into Isabel for all the wrong reasons. Two being her filthy mouth and her gorgeous tits. I’m a tit man and hers were fucking amazing. Real ones too, which made them even better. Besides the obvious though, I thought I could save her. I don’t even know if I ever loved her, or loved the idea of her. Of making a whore into a housewife.

  I think there’s a song about how well that works.

  “What’s the nugget’s name?” Finn reached a hand out, his huge palm covering her whole head as he brushed her hair softly.

  “Isabel didn’t tell me. Finn,” I looked up at him and sighed, “how do I even know the kid’s mine?” I held her to me even as I asked.

  “You don’t. Does it matter right now?” We exchanged a look and I shook my head.

  Finn Cooper was kind of a dick, most of the time. But he was also one of the best guys I knew, deep down. Married life had tamed him. Really, his woman had tamed him long before they took the plunge. I knew what his question meant; this tiny thing needed somebody.

  I didn’t know if I could be that somebody. If I even wanted to be. I was a firefighter; my job put my life in danger every day. I’d spent a few months wallowing in heartbreak. Which meant lots of whisky and women. I didn’t know if I could be a father. I glanced over my shoulder as Cage Cooper, his brother-in-law and best friend, stepped into the room.

  “What. The. Fuck?” Before I could object, he took the baby out of my arms, pressing her to his chest.

  “Levi planted his seed. Isabel thinks growing a baby was the end of her part as a mother.” Finn smirked and moved with Cage, taking the baby a few steps away.

  I can’t explain it, even though after that moment, I tried more than once to figure it out. I had no brothers or sisters. I was close to my parents but had been on my own since they had passed when I was a teen. We hadn’t made the time to talk about a family. But it seemed like now maybe, I was being given one anyway.

  Watching Cage walk away with that baby in his hands, I panicked. That was my daughter. My family. Mine. Besides, Cage was a one man basting machine trying to get his wife Charli pregnant. Surprised his baby batter didn’t produce a football team of Coopers. The fuck didn’t need to bond with my spawn.

  “Yeah...fuck Isabel. You can take it from here. What’s the midget’s name?” Cage asked me, but neither he nor Finn ever looked away from that baby.

  Can’t blame them. Little stinker was pretty darn cute. Chunky legs and cheeks aside, she was a pretty baby. Smiling up at those idiots, her bright eyes glistening, I thought she might be the prettiest baby I’d ever seen. My baby should be lovely, of course. God knows her whore mother was a stunner.

  Too bad she used her powers for evil. Isabel had vanished for months and that cute little bundle gave me some answers to a few questions I’d had. Long before walking out on me, with child it would seem, things had been heading downhill, head first, and picking up speed.

  “I don’t even know why I married you.” Iz said during one of the final, nastier, blow outs we’d had.

  Just a few months into our marriage, I’d wondered the same thing, to be honest. Isabel was bright and bubbly, full of life. Funny and sweet, but also jaded and sometimes cynical. We were polar opposites; I thought it was a good thing.

  “Just tell me why, bro. Give me a valid reason you did something so damn stupid.” Hunter, my boss and closest friend here in Chicago, asked when he found out I’d married her.

  At first, I did not have a valid reason. Even wondered if he was right; if that quickie wedding had been stupid. Didn’t even have a good excuse.

  Isabel didn’t trap me, didn’t get knocked up—at least not at first—didn’t want me for my money or even need my last name to stay in the country. All reasons I could have fallen back on.

  My reasons were my own. Not even Isabel really knew. I maybe never talked about a family with Isabel; but I knew one day I’d want one. I’d been alone
so damn long. Getting married, having someone, hoping for something more, it was reason enough. Love was never the reason I gave when they asked why Isabel.

  Because I think we both know love was never involved. Lust, for sure. Isabel was a hot strawberry blonde with nice tits, a hoover for a mouth and legs that spread at the sight of a uniform. I was young, dumb and full of come. Precisely how I’d ended up here, with a tiny little person who needed someone.

  “Give me the nugget. Guess I’ll take that day after all, Hunter.” I nodded at a brooding Hunter who watched over us as we handled the baby.

  With a midget of his own on the way, Hunter had turned into a softer, gentler papa bear. Unless, of course, Lola was near; then he was growly and grumpy and fuck if anyone wanted to touch her little round belly.

  “Take the weekend, Levi. I promise that nugget will adjust faster than you, bro. Call Lola if you need something.” Hunter nodded, the flash of a smile whenever he spoke of his wife making me smirk. Wish I had something that made me feel like that.

  An hour before, I had been working towards something in the ballpark. Or at the very least, the parking lot. Done with badge bunnies, I was lining up a legit date with the hot blonde from the coffee shop next door. Isabel had barged in, set the little bundle of cuteness at my feet and said two words.

  “She’s yours.” I’d let her get about ten feet away before I scooped the baby up and marched after her.

  “What? What the fuck are you doing here, what is this?” I motioned towards the baby and regretted it; she was a little human, not a thing.

  “I tried. I did, Levi. Just not cut out for it. Now it’s your turn.” A grumbling muscle car idled at the curb, “I swear she is yours. I didn’t know.... I mean when I left, I didn’t know. I might not have left.” That was a fucking lie and she couldn’t even look me in the face to deliver it.

  Iz had been gone for months, long before I walked in on her get railed by another badge wearing fuck. I tried, at first, to make it work. I brought home dinner and flowers and took every other weekend off. It was pointless. I barely knew Iz when we got together so it didn’t take much for her to become a stranger again.

  To be honest, I was fucking relieved. It hurt, yeah. But I was so exhausted by then. I’d made a mistake and then tried for almost a year to atone for it. To figure out how to make something out of that mistake. As I stroll out of the fire house into the cool fall night, I think, just maybe, I did.

  After my parents died, I moved Chicago. An aunt took me in for a few months but it didn’t last. By then I was becoming a pro at getting everything wrong. Dropped out of school, kicked around the streets for a while, got into trouble. Marrying the wrong girl had actually been my first attempt to go straight. That turned out to be wrong too, but maybe this wasn’t.

  Before I scooped up that little nugget and took her inside to the guys, I looked right into Iz’ eyes. I saw a different woman looking back at me. Not the woman I thought I married, or even the one she became after that marriage began to fail. Someone lost and seemingly vacant, willing me to cut her loose from the burden she’d placed at my feet.

  I was a firefighter. I helped people. Saved people every day. I could save this little baby. After deciding not only that I could, but that I would, I headed home.

  “What is your name, Princess face?” I murmur as she wraps a tiny fist around my finger.

  Iz had dropped her off with a little pink and yellow diaper bag, with monkeys on it, a few diapers and bottles. Nothing else. No name, no idea how old she was, nothing. Iz never was good with the details.

  “Let me see what I can find out.” Hunter insisted just before I’d headed out with her.

  “I just need to know how old she is. Her birthday. Her name.” I could have mentioned DNA shit, too. Truth was, I didn’t care.

  I didn’t need to know. Not now, at least. I needed to get this little baby set up, get her fed, and figure out how to work my life around her for right now. The weekend Hunter had given me was not long enough, but it was a start.

  After picking up tiny diapers, some milk and some canned formula—since I had no idea which was best—I grabbed the L that took me to my place in midtown.

  Along the way, I spoke to the little nugget as she cooed up at me. That little fist never let go of my finger. It was fall, but warm for September in Chicago. Still, I had picked up a cute monkey blanket at the store, wrapping the little Princess up in it.

  Her eyes were bright, green, lively like Iz and her button nose was cute as shit. A downy soft patch of reddish hair spiked up on her little head and I touched my nose to it. Damn, babies really did smell good. Fresh and new. Like second chances.

  “Doesn’t matter what your mama did, nugget. Or what I did before. Matters that I make it right. And I will, I promise.” I clutch that baby close as I ride the L home, laden down with shit I never thought I might need.

  Once I got home, the little Princess was passed out. I’d picked up just the essentials—what I assumed were the essentials, anyway—so I had no crib or bassinet for her. For tonight, I’d just have to make do. On my massive king sleigh bed—something Iz had picked out—I made a fortress of pillows in the center. I set the little nugget carefully inside before moving to lie down alongside her.

  I had no clue what I was doing, and I knew that. I knew that I would very likely be calling Lola or Hunter in the near future. Probably Gwen Cooper and the rest of the Cooper women too. Besides knowing the nugget needed to be fed and changed, I didn’t know much else.

  Hell, I didn’t even know if I would be so willing to care for this little baby tomorrow morning, after I’d slept on it. I kind of thought, watching her sleep in that mass of pillows, I probably would though. And if I didn’t, I would find the right place for her.

  For once, it wasn’t about my wounded ego or my baggage. It wasn’t about what Isabel or anyone before her, or since, had done to me. Or what I had done to myself. No, it was about this tiny, innocent baby and what would be the right choice for her.

  I knew what it was like to go it alone. To wonder if you mattered to anyone. If you might ever have a place that was yours, people that considered you important. I knew what it felt like to have nothing and no one.

  I had screwed up plenty in my life. Lying in that big bed, watching the sunlight chase the horizon, I made a vow to the little nugget left at my feet. A vow that the moment I breathed it, I knew I would do anything to keep.

  “I got you now, Princess. Daddy or not, I got you now and I promise to do right by you.”

  2

  BRYNN

  I am almost positive I packed my bags six times. Maybe eight. Just to unpack them the moment I was given an excuse to stay. Any excuse, I would take it and drag those pricey Louis Vuitton’s back from the door and unpack them all over again. But, those excuses were heading into bullshit territory now, just shy of four months later. I’d take them while they were coming, though.

  “You can’t leave until we hit all the museums.”

  “Can’t go back to Boston until you’ve hit Navy Pier.”

  “We should go to the festival next weekend, so don’t go home yet.”

  Either Lola Byrne—my best friend for most my life—knew I didn’t want to go back to Boston or she selfishly didn’t want me to go back. I could deal with a selfish Lola. Because, I knew Lola being selfish with me, if that were truly the case, benefited me.

  Besides, we could blame our selfish excuses on valid life shit. The two of us had been inseparable once, never went a day without talking or seeing one another. We even had a plan to go off to college together, dorm together, experience life together. Until six months ago, it had been years since I’d even talked to her.

  Our plans had gotten derailed by two men. Mine, by accident. Hers by choice. Then life took us on two different rides, so far from our plan that neither of us knew how to get it back on track. At least not until Chicago.

  Though temporarily derailed, I got my plan back on track by g
oing to school at 25. It was harder than I expected so when I saw a skype call during a particularly rough study session, I didn’t question who was on the other end. One call got the rest of my plan back on track.

  “Brynn. My China Doll.” Within moments, it was like the four years since the last time I’d heard Lola call me lady friend had never happened.

  One five hour skype session turned into a call every night for a week. Then phone calls every day, texts in between and, eventually, I made a trip down south for her wedding. Well, her second one.

  Lola Byrne reminded me of who I wanted to be once. Because she wasn’t the girl I had once known, but the girl she was always meant to be. Not their wilting Violet, a sheltered puppet her calculating family tried to destroy. But bright, loud, bubbly, vibrant Lola. The girl I knew was always there.

  That’s the girl I followed to Chicago after another Skype session that reminded me I wasn’t who I wanted to be. Because, Lola wasn’t Violet anymore and that was okay. I wanted to be Brynn again, the one I’d been before I’d let one mistake throw me so off plan. I thought by going to school, pretending to figure my plan out again, I was okay again.

  Then I watched my best friend get married to the man who had saved her. Who had loved her for the loud, bright, outside-the-lines woman she was. And I watched the amazing group of friends she’d made embrace her, and then me, and I realized I didn’t have to be the girl I’d been parading as for so long. I could be me. And people like Lola and her friends Gigi, and Charli, would like me for just who I was.

  “We doing dinner tonight?” Lola was shouting now as I wandered around the upper loft of the converted old fire station that was she and Gigi’s studio.

  Lola was bright, with fading purple and teal hair, a glowing smile and a bright yellow sundress. Her round belly looked like a sweet lemon drop. The real Lola, she always glowed, even when she was Violet. Even when her family did everything to dim her light. Now though? Now pregnant, married, and blissfully happy, she positively beamed sunlight.