Forged by Fire: A Small Town Second Chance Romance

by Cleveland, Eddie

  Forged by Fire

  A Small Town Second Chance Romance

  Eddie Cleveland

  Contents

  Acknowledgements

  1. Luke

  2. Karen

  3. Luke

  4. Karen

  5. Luke

  6. Karen

  7. Luke

  8. Karen

  9. Luke

  10. Luke

  11. Karen

  12. Luke

  13. Karen

  14. Karen

  15. Karen

  16. Luke

  17. Karen

  18. Luke

  19. Karen

  20. Luke

  21. Karen

  22. Luke

  23. Luke

  24. Karen

  25. Luke

  26. Karen

  27. Karen

  28. Luke

  29. Luke

  30. Luke

  31. Karen

  32. Karen

  33. Luke

  34. Karen

  Epilogue

  You’re Invited! Wedding Invitation

  Cover Photographer:

  Wander Aguiar

  http://wanderaguiar.com/

  * * *

  Cover Model:

  Travis Saam

  https://www.instagram.com/travis_saam/

  * * *

  Editing:

  Lawrence Editing

  http://www.lawrenceediting.com/

  &

  Proofing with Style

  http://www.proofingstyle.com/about.html

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  Copyright © 2018 by Eddie Cleveland

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  1

  Luke

  Clang!

  Little vibrations shudder up the ladder. I yank it free from the firetruck while the noise tries to tattle on me.

  “Shh!” Karen holds her finger to her lips and ducks down as if there’s actually some kind of danger and we’ll get caught.

  “Aww, c’mon.” I regain my balance with the long ladder and sling it over my shoulder with a grin. “You’re not worried about that little sound, are ya?” I lead her out the open bay door as Karen slinks behind me. “You know everyone in town is stuffing their faces full of spaghetti right now. What’s got you all wound up?”

  “No. I know.” She squints through the blue hue of twilight each way down the street like she’s still not sure that someone isn’t going to come yell at us. She wraps the straps of her backpack around her delicate hands, adjusting them for the tenth time.

  I try to be careful, but the ladder makes another distinctive clang as I snug it up against the side of the station. Karen nearly jumps out of her skin.

  “Okay, what gives?” Stepping back from our stairway to the stars, I pull her close.

  I fill my lungs with the faint smell of strawberries on her long, golden hair. Karen is stiff as a board until I give her neck a little peck. Then another relaxes her into me and the next thing you know, I’ve kissed a path to her signature crimson lips. Her tongue flickers against mine passionately and even though she’s practically melted against me, there’s still something stiff as a board between us.

  I mean, can you blame me? I’ve been interested in Karen Baker since before I even knew how to jerk off. And then, over the years, when I most definitely perfected that art, I’ve spent every moment thinking of her.

  “Do you think anyone knows we’re here?” Karen pulls away from me and glances around again.

  “Sure, I mean, there’s a one hundred percent chance old lady Cantor knows. She’s probably even written about us in her dirty books by now.” I laugh at how red the memory turns Karen’s milky skin.

  “Ohh, God! Don’t remind me.” She groans into her hands and hides her face.

  “What?” I act innocent. “You don’t want to relive her lecture on how exploring your sexuality is a rite of passage?”

  I’ll never forget the mortifying moment she confronted us here. For some reason, a couple years back Mrs. Cantor skipped the biggest social event in our town and decided to talk to us about the importance of love and lust instead of eating spaghetti with everyone else.

  “No!” Karen begins to climb the ladder and I instinctively grab the bottom to keep it steady as she tries to run away from the humiliation.

  “Oh, come on,” I tease. “Didn’t you like her idea? What did she say you were again? Like a pirate wench?”

  Karen grunts as she steps from the top of the ladder onto the roof. I don’t need to see her face to know it’s burning bright. “She said I was like a virginal bud of sexual prowess just getting ready to bloom,” Karen hisses and I can’t help but laugh.

  “Right, right. I was the pirate. Trying to steal yer booty. Yar!” I clamber up the ladder behind her.

  “She’s spent too much time writing those trashy romances. Who even talks to a sixteen-year-old like that?” Karen tosses her backpack to the side and watches me twist around the ladder and join her on the flat roof.

  “Mrs. Mildred Cantor, that’s who. Anyway, she’s the only one who knows we sneak up here and I’m sure the only person she’s told is her readers.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I am.”

  Normally Karen would shove my shoulder or give me a little punch in the arm. That’s how it usually goes when I tell her how right I am. But the twinkle fades from her brown eyes as the blush fades from her cheeks. She stares out over Pine Grove, inspecting the landscape dotted with farms and hippie houses we’ve studied a million times.

  My arms circle her waist as I hold her from behind, gazing along with her over the town that we grew up in. The town that shaped us. The town that once felt so infinitely big, and now, with our high school graduation a couple months behind us, feels crushingly small.

  It’s like when you’re little and you play around by sticking your tiny feet in your father’s shoes. You can’t imagine a day you could ever fit into them, let alone walk a mile. Then, in the blink of an eye, not only did you grow up, but your feet got so long you actually need bigger shoes than he did. And, even if you’re determined to make them fit, even if you want to curl up your toes and crush your foot in them so you can still be just like your dad, the only thing that will happen is you’ll hurt yourself. Not to mention destroy your father’s boots.

  “Was that really two years ago?” Her voice is barely a whisper on the August breeze.

  “It was.”

  For a moment we’re lost. Lost in the memories. Lost in the lazy sprawl of the town. Lost in the years gone by. In each other.

  “Did you tell him yet?” She steps out of my grasp, her voice tightening to a squeak. Karen won’t look straight at me. Instead, she pretends that taking a blanket out of her bag is consuming all of her attention.

  “No.”

  I can feel the weight of her sigh. It’s heavy and filled with words I hope we don’t need to speak. At least not now. I don’t want this night to be soured with another argument about my father.

  “Why not, Luke? We’re supposed to be going to New York in three weeks. Why haven’t you told him yet?” She bites her lip. “I mean, you’re still coming with me, right?” Her voice trembles,
like a child calling out in the dark. I know she needs me. And I would never abandon her.

  “I am. I swear, I am.” I ease over to join her on the blanket. We both lie on our backs like we’ve done almost every month now for four years. The crazy thing is, the sparkle of the stars never gets old. No matter how many times you see it.

  “Then, what’s the holdup?” She rolls into me and I snug my arm around her without thinking.

  “I’m just waiting for the right time, babe. That’s all. My father has been expecting me to become a volunteer firefighter since I was a baby.”

  I know the stars are shining, but I can’t see their light. Instead, every picture of me since I was ten months old is playing in my mind like some kind of movie montage. The one where I’m in my crib in a firefighter onesie. And then when I’m two and my parents turned my stroller into a mini fire truck for Halloween. Oh, and the countless ones of me in a too-big uniform with a matching helmet, grinning from ear to ear as I pose on the trucks or with a hose.

  How do I let down my biggest hero? How do I turn down the job the fire chief offered me and tell him I’d rather work a meaningless job in a foreign city than do what he’s done his whole life? How do I break my father’s heart?

  “I get that.” Karen rests her hand on my chest and snaps me back to reality.

  “I promise, I’ll tell him soon.” I hold up three fingers and give her my scout’s honor even though it’s been years since I was a scout.

  “I know what it’s like to want everything to be perfect.” Karen’s voice is warbling again.

  I search her face for a reason why. It isn’t like her to be nervous about anything. This is the girl who wants us to move from a small community in Oregon clear across the country to the biggest city in America. She’s the same one who has somehow convinced me we can be two crazy kids who beat the odds in New York City. Why on earth is she nervous?

  “What’s going on?” I touch my thumb to her cheek and drag it down to her lips, kissing her gently.

  “Well, I was thinking about us and how I want our first time to be perfect. You know?” She’s studying my face, looking for me to give her something, and I’m not sure what it is. I nod, but I don’t understand what she’s saying. Still, she has my total attention.

  “I realized I don’t want to wait anymore.” She swallows hard. “New York isn’t the place for us to share that for the first time. Not when we’ve shared every other part of our lives here.”

  “Are you saying…?” I don’t want to put words in her mouth. I don’t want to rush the thing, the moment, I’ve been hoping to experience with her for years now. Instead, I half sit up and close my mouth, eager to hear what she has to say.

  “Yes. I don’t think there will ever be a more perfect place, or time, or person of course.” She giggles. “This is the right time.”

  Karen rolls off me completely and reaches into the backpack she brought. Her hand crinkles as she opens her palm and reveals a gold foil wrapper, glinting under the moonlight.

  “Luke, I want to give myself to you.”

  2

  Karen

  The surprise in Luke's piercing blue eyes is quickly burned up by flames of desire. Easing me back on the blanket, he pins me between his arms. His muscles coil and the strength he's using to restrain himself is obvious as he cups my cheek and stares deep into my eyes. “Are you sure?”

  There are so many things I'm not sure of. Every day I struggle, wondering, am I making the right decisions? I'm about to abandon this town for a future that only exists in my dreams right now. I've spent so many nights looking up all the sights in New York City, taking Google Map tours down little alleyways and up the bustling streets in Manhattan and, in my mind at least, when I picture Luke and me there, we're happier. Just being lost in a big city full of possibilities is enough to give me hope that my life can be bright.

  But then, I've spent just as many nights with tight knots curling up inside my stomach, making me sick with worry that could be the biggest mistake of my life. It’s possible that on those same enticing, exciting, exhilarating streets, I could lose myself.

  I could lose him.

  If that does happen, if this move is a catastrophe that ruins everything, well, then I need tonight. I will need to have this simple time when everything is still ahead of us. I need to make this memory, just like I already have the memories of Luke being the first boy to hold my hand, my first kiss, the first boy I ever snuck in my room ... now I need him to be the first boy to ever be inside me.

  “I've never been more sure of anything, Luke.” My voice is hoarse with emotion. I swallow hard to try to prevent a lump from forming in my throat. It's not that I'm going to cry, it just always gets like this when my feelings overwhelm me. What can I say? At the end of the day, I'm just a big softy. “I love you. And I don't want to wait another moment to share this with you. I'm ready now.”

  Pulling him down toward me, I wrap my arms up around his shoulder blades and his tender lips reward me. I taste his fervor as our tongues twist together in a deeper and more meaningful kiss than I've ever experienced before.

  For a moment my mind wanders, taking me back to the beginning. I met Luke at this very fire station. We couldn't have been more than five years old at the time. My father had been letting me explore while he did inventory on the trucks. I was splashing around in the little puddles that dripped out of the ends of the hoses when I saw a spider. My shriek radiated off the walls and a group of firefighters, including Dad, came running, circling me, worried I’d hurt myself. They laughed when I pointed down to the bug with tears in my eyes.

  “Silly girl. All that noise over a little bug?”

  Luke didn't find it funny, though. He marched right over, his chest puffed out, his little hands balled into fists. He pushed past the adults’ legs and broke into the circle with me and stomped it down until the spider was flat on the concrete floor.

  “I killed it for you.” He was so proud. “It won't hurt you now.” He gave me a little half-grin I've probably seen a million times since and stuck out his chubby little hand. “I'm Luke. What's your name?”

  My heart was fluttering so quick, but I had no idea it was because of a boy. I figured the spider still had me wound up. Actually, it took a few more years before I realized my feelings for him. It was still a couple more after that before we ever made anything official. And by official I mean that cute and innocent time in your life when you call a boy your “boyfriend” but you just play games and watch movies together.

  Blinking hard, the memory fades. I look over Luke's shoulder up at the stars. The kisses he trails down my neck send shivers through my entire body. A tingle travels inside me, making my nipples pert and continuing down lower, to the place I've never been touched before.

  I’m not really sure what to do. Obviously, I know the mechanics. Sex isn’t some kind of mystery to me. But what girls at sleepovers don’t tell you, and what you never learn in sex ed class is: how do you have this sexy, magical experience when you can barely think straight and your heart is thumping out of your chest and your throat is dry and you’re having a million thoughts per second and …

  Luke makes some space between our bodies. His flattened palm slides up my shirt until his fingertips graze my breast. Instinctively, I open my legs for him and he grinds against me. Despite the fact we're both wearing denim I can feel his erection.

  Normally this would be the point that I stop things. It's not like we've never fooled around, but before tonight I've tried to keep things above the waist. I'm not sure why. I'm not overly religious and I don’t think there's anything wrong with sex. It's just that, whenever Luke has pushed into me like this, my feelings of anticipation and longing have always turned into anxiety. Fear.

  I'm not afraid now.

  Pleasure radiates through me even though we still have our clothes on. I feel feverish, like I need to remove these stupid fabric barriers from my skin. Like the only thing that can stop this fire fro
m burning up my flesh is being blanketed by his naked body.

  “Help me get this off,” I whisper.

  Luke moves back so I can half sit up. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s ready. I know he wants this, but the telltale little tremble in his fingers is a dead giveaway that I’m not the only one battling my nerves. There's no chance he'll be able to get my bra undone, so I pop it off myself.

  Luke tugs on the back of his T-shirt, peeling it off his body. He abandons it with my clothes. I lean into him. Some girls wouldn’t think this is a romantic way to lose their virginity. I’ve heard the gag-worthy sagas from high school seniors who supposedly lost their V-card in a king-sized bed covered in rose petals while every perfect romance song crooned for them. I’ve just never felt like every moment in life needs to be Instagram-worthy. I might be young, but the times in my life that have already had the most meaning have been the least planned.

  The heat from the hot August sun radiates from the concrete roof, but it does nothing to prevent my body from breaking out in tiny goose bumps. A long shiver licks my spine and for just one second, when neither of us seems to be in a hurry for this moment to end, I wonder: is this a mistake?

  No. I’m just letting my nerves get to me. Besides, this feels more perfect than any hotel bed with scattered flowers ever could. The warmth of Luke’s breath billows around me, protecting me from the slight chill in the darkness shrouding us. So maybe we don’t have a sexy soundtrack of Top 40 hits. Instead, Mother Nature is serenading us with a symphony of crickets in the distance. As our half-naked bodies press together, I’m lost in the strength of his skin.