Play With Fire: Into The Fire Series

by J. H. Croix

  “I thought the same thing when I saw it,” I added, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Joy buzzed inside of me. With everything that had happened in the last month, I felt knocked back in life. This was something positive, something I could hold onto.

  “Come on,” Risa said. “Let me take you upstairs. You can meet Jessa. She’s the one who does all that furniture. She lives here in Diamond Creek and rents a space upstairs. I like to paint, but I’m not too artsy. I do signs and things for all of our galleries. It’s just Jessa and me up there right now. I’m having the other two rooms renovated.”

  I followed her down the hallway and up the stairs into another hallway with two doors on either side. The distant humming sound I’d heard earlier became stronger, and I assumed this was the renovation work she’d mentioned.

  Risa quickly showed me her space, which had a worktable with paint and posters everywhere. She quickly checked next door, only to discover that Jessa wasn’t there. Just looking into the space made my heart squeeze. Paint was dripped all over the heavy cloth draped on the floor, with unfinished pieces of furniture scattered around.

  “Well, maybe if you’re down here again, you can meet her,” Risa said as she turned away.

  As she spoke, the humming sound slowed in a room across the hall. She paused by the door to open it, calling in, “Hey, how’s it going in here?”

  As soon as the door opened, sheet rock dust blew into the hallway in a thick gust, hitting me right in the face.

  “Oh!”

  I sneezed, and then again and again and again as I tried to catch my breath. It was too much. In a matter of seconds, I was in the midst of an asthma attack.

  Risa appeared to quickly assess what was happening and slammed the door closed, apologizing profusely as she hurried me down the hall. Gasping and wheezing, I could hardly breathe, so she was basically dragging me. She got me down the stairs and into her office. I dimly heard her asking if I had an inhaler. I tried to fumble with my purse, but she took it from me, quickly producing the inhaler and handing it to me.

  A few minutes later, I had my breath back.

  “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t even thinking. That much dust usually sets me off.”

  “You don’t need to apologize,” Risa said, giving my hand a squeeze. “I’m the idiot who decided to open the door while they were sanding the sheetrock.”

  “You couldn’t have known I have asthma,” I said, as I took a slow, steadying breath. It was hard to put to words how good it felt to breathe when you knew what it felt like when you couldn’t.

  “Do you need more of that?” she asked, gesturing to the inhaler curled in my fist.

  After another hit of the inhaler, my lungs felt clear. I leaned back in the chair with a sigh. “Asthma’s a pain in the ass.”

  “How do you deal with it with your pottery?” she asked.

  “Well, there’s not too much dust if I manage it. I love it. I had my studio in San Francisco set up with an air filtering system. I’m sure I can get that set up in Willow Brook.”

  The moment I made that comment, my mind flashed to the sight of Donovan bare-chested and working downstairs at Janet’s B&B. That was how bad off I was when it came to Donovan. A passing comment sent my thoughts spinning in his direction. I forcibly turned my focus away.

  There was a knock at the door. Glancing over, Risa called out, “Come in.”

  A police officer stepped through the door. The moment Risa’s eyes landed on him, her smile widened. She stood and walked to his side. The police officer leaned down and caught her lips in a quick kiss.

  “Had a call out this way, so I thought I’d stop in and see you before I went back to the station,” the police officer said.

  Risa looped her elbow through his and caught my eyes. “This is my husband, Darren. Hon,” she said, gesturing between us, “this is Jasmine Phillips. Quinn’s sister called me about her. I’m hounding her into turning all her pottery over to me.”

  Darren flashed a grin in my direction. “Nice to meet you. Don’t let her push you too hard, or she actually will take all of your pottery. She wouldn’t shut up about it the other night.”

  Risa nudged him with her elbow. “I love finding new stuff,” she said with a sheepish grin.

  They were well-matched. Risa was beautiful, and Darren was handsome with his dark brown hair and eyes.

  “I gotta go, babe,” he said. “Just had a minute to stop by.”

  Risa turned with him to the door. He dipped his head again, dropping a kiss on the side of her neck. It was rather innocent, yet the intimacy between them was so powerful, I felt as if I were interrupting. They clearly loved each other. That was what I wanted. Emotion tightened my chest out of the blue. I forced my eyes away from them and stood to walk to the window.

  “Isn’t that view just ridiculous?” Risa asked over my shoulder.

  Turning back, I smiled, forcing myself not to dwell on the personal mess of my life. Somehow my asthma attack had knocked me off kilter and reminded me of how uncertain everything was for me. “It is. My parents used to bring us down here in the summer sometimes. It’s so pretty. Anyway, I should go. I want to get back to Willow Brook before it’s too late.”

  “You’ll call me as soon as you think you can start supplying us, right?” Risa asked in return.

  It still didn’t feel quite real that she planned to sell my pottery. “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Of course I’m sure! Once you have some inventory, let me know and we’ll sort out how much we need on a week-to-week basis. My partners in Anchorage can meet with you at any time as well. I won’t be up there for another couple of months, which is why I was hoping you could come down here. Thank you for making the drive,” she said with another warm smile.

  The tension that had quickly bundled inside eased slightly. “I’m glad I came. I have to say, your enthusiasm is a little surprising. I like my work but …” My words trailed off because I wasn’t sure what I meant to say.

  “I can’t even imagine what it’s like to try to sell art somewhere like San Francisco,” she offered. “We opened a gallery in Seattle, and I go down maybe once a year. It’s totally different. I love art, but I don’t love the pretentiousness that comes with it sometimes.”

  “That’s one way to put it,” I said with a laugh. “Anyway, I’ll email or call. My goal is to hopefully sort out a studio space in the next few weeks.”

  “You sure you’re okay to drive?” she asked as I put my inhaler back in my purse and hooked my purse over my shoulder.

  “Oh, I’m fine. Trust me. By no means was that the worst asthma attack I’ve ever had. It just took me off guard.”

  Risa stepped to me and gave me a quick hug. “We’re going to be friends. I just know it. You might not be down here in Diamond Creek, but with your pottery, we’ll be in touch a lot. If you need anything, just let me know.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jasmine

  As I drove home late that afternoon, I felt a little out of whack. Between Risa dropping this absolutely amazing opportunity in my lap and my unexpected asthma attack, I just felt off.

  Asthma had been a part of my life since I was a little girl. I hated it. When I was little, I’d had a few too many bad asthma attacks. I didn’t like to think about it much, but my asthma has been part of what drove a wedge between Levi and I when we were younger. Levi was four years older than me and only occasionally let me tag along with him.

  I forgot to bring my inhaler once when we were out hiking nearby, not long after we moved to Willow Brook. It was an average summer day in Alaska. We were at Swan Lake, but on the far side. When I realized I didn’t have my inhaler, I knew I should’ve told Levi we needed to go back. But we were with a few other friends, just wild kids running free.

  When you’re young and you don’t quite grasp the seriousness of certain things, you think you can will them away. I had an awful asthma attack that afternoon, and Levi carried me back to Wildlands where our pare
nts were having lunch.

  I remember being so scared, more frightened than I’d ever been. I’d had asthma attacks before, yet that had been the first and only time in my life when I didn’t have my inhaler with me. I’d been almost blue by the time he got me to Wildlands, and it had terrified my parents. For good reason.

  Levi had always been an overprotective brother before then. Not in the annoying bossy way, but just taking care of me. Since that day, well, it had been worse. By nature, Levi was an easygoing, teasing kind of guy. Yet, when it came to me after that, let’s just say adolescence wasn’t too fun for me with him around the house.

  As an adult, I could look back and realize he must have been scared to death that day. He’d been aware enough to see the terror in my parents’ faces. I barely remembered that afternoon, although I vividly recalled not being able to breathe and how scary that was.

  Just now, as I drove north along the highway, flanked by the ocean and the mountains, I took a deep breath of air and let it out. Air was such a gift, and it was easy not to appreciate it unless you’d experienced times when you couldn’t get your lungs to work.

  I knew a part of me was defensive. I’d fought so hard to show that I could do things on my own, that I didn’t need to have anyone hover over me. The hovering and the background worry from my parents and Levi had been part of what spurred me to leave Willow Brook. Yet, somehow, I spun right back like a boomerang.

  Life had sent me careening back. I wanted to show them I could take care of myself, yet all I’d shown them was how much I needed them.

  As I drove home, I considered my options for finding a place to set up a studio. I needed space for my pottery wheel, my kiln, a worktable, a glazing area, and storage. I thanked the stars my old kiln and wheel from high school were still stored in my parents’ garage. The studio where I’d worked in San Francisco included rented equipment. Though I had the more costly items, I still needed to find a space and have it set up. I either needed to call in a big favor from Lucy and Amelia … or I could ask Donovan. I couldn’t even believe I was considering asking for his help.

  I didn’t know why, but that seemed the easier of the two. Even though Lucy had already offered to help, relying on her meant Levi would be involved. I hated this old sore spot between us.

  Sometimes, when I was being honest with myself, I knew part of my desire to spread my wings and fly away from Willow Brook went all the way back to the afternoon he’d likely saved my life. It was odd how events could shift the course of a life.

  It was just an asthma attack. Asthma was something so many people had. Yet, I’d been careless, and I had almost died as a result of it. That had profoundly shifted the dynamics in my relationship with Levi, who I adored and still did, and my parents.

  It was unspoken in our family, but I’d been trying ever since to make up for my carelessness and show that I was someone else. Instead, I’d had the poor judgment to get engaged to an asshole who screwed around on me. Then, I’d let my temper get the best of me and lost my job as a result of it.

  Now, here I was, back in Alaska, the place that held my heart all along. It was hard to miss a place, and yet try so hard to prove yourself away from it.

  I hated depending on people.

  The landscape rolled by as I drove north from Diamond Creek. Sterling Highway wound along the coast. Here and there, the highway angled further inland, yet Cook Inlet was visible most of the way. The mountains rose tall on the far side. Even now, at the height of summer, there was still a little snow left on some of the tallest peaks. An icy blue glacier glittered under the bright sun. It was late afternoon, and the sun wouldn’t set for hours yet.

  Eventually, I turned onto Seward Highway, the highway that would bring me through Anchorage before I traveled west to Willow Brook. Seward Highway went through the Chugach Mountains. For a little while, the ocean disappeared from view as I passed through trees and along Trail Creek. The scenery was so beautiful it almost brought me to tears.

  Beyond the mountain pass, I traveled along Turnagain Arm, the portion of highway that hugged the feet of the mountains as they kissed the salty ocean waters of Cook Inlet. I remembered thinking the mountains were so close on the far side when I was a little girl that if I could stretch far enough, I could touch them.

  Traffic crawled for a stretch, with vehicles slowing down to view the Beluga whales traveling through the inlet, their white forms flashing as they undulated through the surface of the water. A raven flew past the side of my car, its call distinct and clear.

  Hours after I left Diamond Creek, I turned onto the side highway that would lead me to Willow Brook. As I rolled into town, my heart thudded, and I resolved to myself that I would somehow soon, once and for all, try to clear the air over that afternoon long ago when Levi saved my life.

  The oddest thing about all of it was there was nothing dramatic about it. I didn’t have an exciting story to tell about almost dying. My near-death story was an asthma attack. All I’d done was forget to bring my inhaler. I’d been too damn stubborn to go back and get it.

  By the time I pulled up in front of Janet’s little B&B, I was feeling raw and vulnerable. Despite the great news from Risa, somehow this day had rubbed against old wounds—striking at that feeling as if I could never quite stand on my own two feet, that feeling of vulnerability. As awesome as Risa’s offer was—and believe me, it was way more than awesome—it struck a nerve. She was so confident it would all work out. What if it didn’t?

  I gave my head a shake as I parked my car outside the B&B. It had been a full two weeks since I’d seen Donovan.

  When I saw his truck parked out front, it was like a bell ringing inside, the vibration humming through my body. I didn’t know what was worse—to see him, or not to see him. I hadn’t laid eyes on him since that night when what had passed between us was so intimate that every time I thought about it, I blushed straight through.

  Taking a deep breath, and telling myself I wouldn’t see him because that would be the easiest thing, I quietly let myself in downstairs. I hated admitting it, but ever since I’d come in and found him shirtless working down here, I wondered every night if I’d find him here again. I didn’t have the nerve to try to ask around and find out when he might be back from the fire. He was on Levi’s crew, so they were out there together. I was too anxious about my feelings for Donovan to even dare ask Lucy when Levi would be back.

  That was a cue to how ridiculous I was feeling. Tonight, it was dead quiet downstairs. Just the hallway light was on. Walking through, feeling slightly bruised inside over my own messed up head, I made my way upstairs.

  Cresting the landing, I almost jumped out of my skin when I saw Donovan at the far end of the hallway, shirtless and fiddling with the window. He didn’t appear to have heard me come in, so I took a moment to enjoy the sight of his back. If you’d told me before I’d met Donovan that a man’s back would turn me on, I would’ve laughed. But this was now the second time I’d encountered Donovan’s shirtless back and gotten hot all over.

  He had an arm stretched up, the muscles in his shoulder bunching as he gave the window a hard push.

  “For fuck’s sake,” he mumbled to himself. “Just open.”

  My question slipped out before I thought about it, more of a reflex than anything. “Do you need some help?”

  He froze. Before he even turned, the air felt charged. The hum of electricity started at the floor and lifted, filling the space in the hallway. He brought his arm down and slowly turned. My mouth went dry. His chest was a work of art—all hard planes. I itched to touch him, to trace every ridge.

  I managed to meet his eyes and not look away, although I knew my cheeks were bright pink. I felt on fire, inside and out.

  His eyes held mine, his gaze assessing, measuring. It felt as if he could look right through me. All a jumble inside as it was, I suddenly felt even more vulnerable.

  He looked tired with a hint of weariness contained in his eyes.

  “D
id you just get back?” I asked.

  “I did. Just about an hour ago.”

  All I could seem to do was stand there with need spinning through my veins.

  “I could use some help,” he added after a pause.

  For a moment, I forgot I had asked him a question. Then, I remembered.

  “Oh! Okay.”

  He was at the end of the hall, perhaps twenty feet away from me. I walked toward him, pausing by my door to set down my purse. As I approached him, I felt the burn of his gaze on me with every step. I was wearing my favorite cowboy boots. I wore them so often, they were almost like a friend. The leather was soft and worn, hugging my calves and fitting me perfectly. I wore a twirly skirt that fell just to my knees with a loose blouse over a navy silk camisole.

  I hadn’t thought much about how I looked until his eyes swept up and down my body as I approached. My nipples tightened to little points, so tight they ached.

  If nipples could talk, I was fairly certain mine would cry out Donovan’s name and ask him for a lick, and maybe a nip of his teeth. Slick need coiled between my thighs. I told myself that right about now would be a good time to tell him I couldn’t help with whatever he was doing with the window. Because it was dangerous to get that close to him when I felt this vulnerable and needy.

  But the desire inside of me was far more powerful and drowned out everything else. It was bossy, snapping at me, cracking like a whip, and driving every step forward. I reached him, nearly shuddering inside.

  “Are you trying to open the window?” I asked inanely.

  Of course he’s trying to open it. Idiot.

  My critical voice had plenty of practice and always knew when to chime in.

  I ignored it and tried to catch my breath and function like a normal human being. This was a friendly neighbor who needed help with the window in the hallway.