A Little Consequence

by Amy Knupp

  Even though one of the firefighters was still nearby, working things on the truck, she guessed, Selena felt completely alone. She didn’t even have Macey’s phone number, she realized. She could call her mom….

  No. What good would that do? How could her mother help her from Boston? She wasn’t about to go crying home, not until she absolutely had to. Maybe the fire would be extinguished before much damage was done.

  Several people from surrounding vacation houses and condos had begun to gather around her property. Selena had never met any of them and didn’t want to now. She made a point of avoiding eye contact and huddled even deeper into herself.

  Tears filled her eyes and she stared at the house, expecting to see the orange lick of devouring flames any second. When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she dialed information on her phone to find the number of Macey’s bar. When she finally got through, she was told Macey wasn’t currently working. She explained in a rush what was happening and the man promised he would try to track Macey down for her.

  Selena buried her face in her legs and let the tears pour out.

  EVAN HAD BEEN on the nozzle and he’d been able to put the fire down fast. Cleanup, however, was taking three times as long. They’d ventilated the house, removed the charred pieces and cleaned up the water, among other routine postfire tasks.

  At last, Evan helped the others haul equipment to the engine and stowed everything in its place. He took off his helmet and ran his hand through his hair, wishing that could get rid of the stink of smoke. Captain Mendoza went over to talk to the occupant, a woman who looked to be soaked to the bone in a hooded sweatshirt. Her shoulders drooped and her head hung low as Captain Mendoza spoke to her.

  He could understand how having a fire in your house would be overwhelming and scary as hell, but truthfully this woman was lucky. The fire had been slow to spread and there wasn’t a lot of damage beyond the living room. The sliding glass door had been blown out and she’d need a professional service to restore the rest of the room, but beyond that, the main problem would be the smell. The ritzy beach house would likely be habitable soon.

  The purse that the woman clung to caught his attention—he’d seen it somewhere before. He swore to himself as he realized when and where: last night, on the floor between the front seats of Selena’s SUV.

  He looked closer and the hair that fell out of the sides of the wet hood was dark and wavy and below her shoulders. Now that he stared, he recognized that stance, the long legs, the curve of her hips.

  He moved toward her without a second thought.

  “Selena?”

  Her head jerked toward him, and he could tell she was just as surprised to see him.

  “Evan?” Her gaze roved quickly up and down him.

  “Are you okay?” He lowered his eyes to her abdomen.

  She nodded as tears started falling down her face. Hell. He moved past the captain and put an arm around her. When she buried her face in the rough, dirty sleeve of his coat, he instinctively pulled her to him.

  Captain Mendoza gave him a questioning look. Evan nodded once and the captain walked off toward the truck.

  He could feel Selena’s jerky intakes of breath, telling him she was crying, but she kept it silent. Captain Mendoza returned and handed him a thick blanket from the rig and Evan thanked him.

  “Let’s put this around you,” he said gently. “You’re shivering.”

  She didn’t argue, just looked at him with sad eyes as he unfolded the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  “I know you’re upset, darlin’, but are you physically okay? Did you take in any smoke?”

  Selena shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m fine.”

  He didn’t have to fake his concern and pulled her to him again, tucking her head under his chin. “What happened? Do you know?”

  SELENA SUCKED IN a deep breath and straightened, putting space between them. She’d been so surprised to see him, and feeling so alone and scared, that she’d gone to him like a puppy. Now that she’d cried all over him, she could more easily recall the way he’d reacted to her news, treated her.

  “I started a fire in the fireplace,” she said just loud enough to be heard over the engine. “I was beat and I guess I fell asleep on the couch.”

  “No more fires when you’re so tired.” He rubbed her upper arm through the blanket, but if his intent was tenderness, Selena overlooked it.

  “What does it matter to you?”

  “Selena, I’m sorry about last night. We need to talk but this isn’t the place.”

  A nod was all she could manage. She was bone tired, totally spent. Couldn’t even think about the drama between them.

  “I work till morning. Can we talk tomorrow sometime?”

  “Whenever.” She wasn’t about to be easy on him now. Not after the night she’d spent alone, terrified, angry.

  “Do you have a place to go tonight?” Evan asked.

  “Taken care of,” she lied. It would be, soon enough. Macey was on her way and she’d either stay with her or get a cheap hotel room.

  “How’d you score such a nice rental, anyway?” he asked, sizing up the house, which showed no damage on this side. A little worse for wear from age and neglect, it still looked majestic, especially with its turret room and widow’s walk.

  Selena swallowed, determined to keep her family’s money out of this. “I know the owner.”

  “Will he put you up somewhere else? Another rental?”

  “It’s all taken care of,” she said again. “Looks like you better go.” She glanced around him to the three other firefighters, who were still cleaning up.

  “I’m not going to walk off and leave you here by yourself.”

  “You did last night.”

  She couldn’t help it. He’d hurt her and she wasn’t over it yet.

  She could almost hear him counting to ten. “I said I’m sorry. I don’t know what else I can do right now but I want to discuss everything. Later. When I’m not working, smelling like smoke.”

  A red pickup truck pulled up behind the fire engine. Macey descended from the passenger side and jogged over to Selena.

  “Are you okay?” Macey threw her arms around her as if they’d been friends since preschool.

  Selena could finally smile genuinely in spite of the day, the fire. “I’m fine. The house will be okay with a little work. You didn’t have to rush over here.”

  “You tell me the house is on fire, I’m supposed to sit at home and watch a movie?” Macey finally released her and noticed Evan, who’d walked over to talk to the guy who’d arrived in the truck with Macey—Selena assumed it was her fiancé. “Evan? Everything under control?”

  “Didn’t realize you two knew each other,” Evan said, not hiding his surprise.

  The other guy shrugged and looked at Macey.

  “I could say the same,” Macey said, her gaze darting between Selena and Evan.

  “We’ve met and Evan was just telling me he has to get back to work,” Selena said, hoping to steer Macey toward her truck.

  Evan stared at her, clearly wanting to say more but settling for one word. “Tomorrow.”

  “Later, Drake,” the other guy said as he went toward the driver’s side.

  “Selena, this is my fiancé, Derek Severson. He’s a firefighter, too.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she said automatically.

  “You’re coming with us,” Macey said.

  Her blood chilled at the thought of marrying a man in that kind of dangerous job.

  Oh God.

  She’d been in such a daze it only just now hit her. The father of her baby was in exactly that dangerous job.

  Nausea doubled her over and her head swam.

  “Selena?” Macey came up beside her and supported her arm as they got to the truck. “What’s wrong, hon?”

  Selena breathed in fresh, wet air, trying to regain her equilibrium. She shook her head. “I’m okay. Just absorbing everything, I guess.�
��

  Which was true. Absorbing it as much as she could. She’d promised herself for so long that she’d never get involved with someone who risked his life on a daily basis. She couldn’t have gone out and handpicked someone who scared her more.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  IT COULDN’T BE this hard to change a lightbulb. Could it?

  Selena knew full well she was challenged when it came to everyday household tasks. Not something she was proud of, but when you had a staff to change lightbulbs and vacuum the carpets, why would you insist on doing it yourself? It hadn’t ever crossed her mind.

  She wasn’t complaining. She was lucky to have been left this house in her dad’s will. Even luckier to be back in it twenty-four hours after the fire. The damage wasn’t too bad—she’d already had a restoration company out as well as a contractor to give her an estimate on the boarded-up glass door, thanks to Derek’s help. Some of the furniture and decor from the living room had to be trashed but those were just things. The biggest problem was the smoke stench, but she had all the windows on the main floor open, ceiling fans running, and had moved in extra fans to push fresh air through, as well. Some of her wardrobe would likely have to go, but it wouldn’t fit for much longer anyway.

  She stretched up to the ceiling of her studio again, standing on tiptoe on the arm of the overstuffed chair she’d pushed to the middle of the room. She and the beach house didn’t seem to own a ladder. Daylight brightened this room whether the sun shone or not, but to handle the murals and her start-up business, SJ Enterprises, she planned to put in work after the sun went down. The dim bulb that’d been here wasn’t at all sufficient.

  It’d taken her ages to unscrew the heavy glass cover of the light and then it had slipped out of her hands and fallen. Thankfully the cover had hit the cushioned chair—barely—instead of shattering on the hardwood.

  Lowering her arms and moving closer to the now-empty socket, she turned her iPod up as high as it would go, trying to lose herself in the music. She stretched up yet again and made another attempt. It didn’t seem like the bulb would ever fit, but what did she know? She could barely reach the socket.

  When a man suddenly appeared in the doorway from the stairs, Selena screamed and dropped the lightbulb. It took her a split second to realize it was Evan. His eyes widened.

  The bulb hit the chair cushion, rolled off and shattered.

  She yanked her earbuds out and left them dangling. “What are you doing here?”

  Beyond the surprise of an intruder, her heart raced in a dozen different directions. Sure, he’d said he wanted to talk, but she wasn’t the type to believe a man who said that. Especially not one who’d reacted so badly just two days ago.

  “Making sure you don’t kill yourself changing a lightbulb, it appears. Don’t move.” He came into the room, glanced around and picked up the trash basket next to her plastic art supply cart. “Do you have a broom?”

  Selena laughed hollowly. “A broom? Not to my knowledge.” She started to climb down.

  “I said don’t move.” Evan plucked the glass shards off the floor and tossed them into the trash. “How did the chair get there?”

  “I pushed it.” She couldn’t prevent the “duh” tone.

  He stood and met her eyes. “You are not supposed to be moving heavy furniture.”

  “Says who?”

  “Me.”

  “And why would I do anything you say?”

  “Because you’re carrying my child.”

  She sat down heavily on the cushion. Since when did he consider the baby his child? “Last I knew it was relegated to being my child. How did you get in here?”

  “I walked. You should lock your door.”

  “I thought I did when the contractor left.”

  “Opened right up.” Evan double-checked for glass shards on the floor then put the trash basket back where it belonged. Returning his attention to Selena, he frowned. “You’re a tough woman to find.”

  “I’ve been here for hours. I had a restoration company in here for most of the day.”

  “Didn’t think you’d be back here so fast. Figured the owner would want to make repairs before letting you in.”

  “The owner’s fine with it. I went to Derek and Macey’s place. Left there early this morning.” She crawled over the arm of the chair to the floor. He was looming too close and she didn’t like feeling trapped. She began pushing the chair to its original place.

  “Dammit, Selena. Do you listen?”

  “Only when it suits me. There’s no reason I can’t push this back. It slides easily enough.”

  He removed her hands and finished the job for her.

  “Why do you think it’s okay to barge into my home?” she said, scowling at his back while not allowing her gaze to stray too low.

  “You didn’t answer when I knocked or rang the bell.”

  “That doesn’t make it okay to come on in.”

  He held up his hand. “Look, Selena, I don’t apologize much, let alone multiple times for the same offense, but I’m sorry for the other night. I didn’t handle the news well.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “I was caught completely off guard.”

  “You said an apology, not excuses.”

  He looked away, clearly frustrated.

  “So you’ve apologized. Now you can go.”

  Evan shook his head. “We’re going to talk.”

  She really wanted to kick him out and not hear anything he had to say. What was the point? She could never have a future with him. He might be a nice guy; maybe he was a warm, caring person, but she couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her child live with the fear of losing him. Selena knew that fear too well.

  Going through it again would wreck her almost as much as watching her son or daughter suffer it.

  The sun was sinking quickly. She turned on the lamp on the end table, then sank into the chair’s big cushions, tucking her legs beneath her. Fatigue rolled over her as it seemed to do every day lately. It was all she could do to hold her head up and look at him. “Say what you came to say.”

  Evan perched on the stool in front of her easel. His face was etched with worry, shoulders rigid. He studied the paint she’d spattered on the floor, his fingers steepled on his thighs.

  Selena allowed herself to admire those large, capable hands, a little awed in spite of herself. Those hands had the power to save buildings, rescue people, and yet they could be so tender on a woman’s body.

  “I… We should get married,” Evan said finally, meeting her gaze head-on.

  There was a two-second lapse as his words sank in and she switched gears from the hot memory of the night they’d shared to the icy fear of having him in her life.

  “Why would we do that?” she blurted. “You seemed content to stay out of it the other night.”

  “Knee-jerk reaction.”

  “You don’t have to marry me, Evan. This isn’t the fifties.”

  “I do. It’s my child as much as yours.”

  Selena chewed frantically on her lip. “We aren’t getting married.”

  “You haven’t even considered it.”

  She popped off the chair and walked to the row of windows that overlooked the water. “I don’t need to consider it. The answer is no.”

  “This is my child, too. We make decisions together. You don’t get to say no.”

  “About marrying you? Oh, yes, I do.”

  “So you’re fine with making our child’s life a nightmare just like that?” he asked.

  “It’s more likely it would be a nightmare if we did get married.”

  “Do you really want to get into splitting custody? I get the kid on days A, B and C and you get him on D, E and F? Two beds, two wardrobes, two toy boxes?”

  “Are you saying you want custody?” A new fear niggled at her. She’d barely started to brew this baby and they were already arguing about custody? That was another slice of life she’d prefer her child to avoid.

  “I’m
saying I want to do this together. In the same house.”

  “So we get married for show?”

  He came up behind her and brushed her hair back behind her shoulder. His breath caressed the side of her neck.

  “There’s a lot more between us than that,” he said in a near-whisper. “The way I remember it, we didn’t have any trouble making things work in the bedroom.”

  His words sent unwanted heat through her. Dammit. “So we share a house and have unlimited sex. Sounds like a great deal for a kid.”

  “Better than the alternative.” He pivoted away from her and took over the chair. When she turned to look at him, his forehead rested on his hands and he rubbed his temples.

  “What changed, Evan? The other night you were hell-bent on not having anything to do with me or the pregnancy. Now, two days later you want the complete opposite?”

  She could see his jaw tighten, even across the dimly lit room. He didn’t meet her eyes. Selena walked over to him as calmly as she could and sat on the fat arm of the chair since there was no other comfortable place to sit. “Explain it to me,” she said. “Because for all I know, tomorrow you’ll be back to ‘no way, I’m outta here.’”

  He merely shook his head. “I won’t change my mind. You can count on it.”

  “Neither will I.”

  “You won’t even consider marrying me?”

  “No.”

  He stood, punching the other arm of the chair. He paced to the far wall and back again, then stared down at her. “Why?”

  He would never understand her fears about his job if she told him, just as her mother didn’t truly grasp the way her brother’s special ops career made her feel. They thought she was overreacting, being a spoiled brat.

  Selena just shook her head.

  Evan stared at her for a long moment. “Unfortunately, I’m stubborn when I don’t get my way. I’m not giving up on this, Selena. I will be in this child’s life. And I’m going to make you see that marrying me is the best thing for us.”

  “Good luck,” she said.

  “Why the hell did you tell me about the pregnancy if you don’t want me to have any part in this child’s life?” Evan demanded.