Where There's Smoke (Holiday Hearts #1)

by Kristin Hardy

  It was the suddenness that took her breath away. It was the unexpectedness that made her knees go weak. It wasn’t desire, she thought in panic, it couldn’t be.

  She didn’t have a choice.

  There had been no warning, just complete sensory assault that broke through the diminishing distance that she’d surrounded herself with. If it had been quick, perhaps she could have waited him out, but it wasn’t. His hands roved over her back, his mouth demanded a response. There was no gentleness this time. This time he took and she gave, oh, she gave.

  He broke through to the wanting, released the desire she’d tried to shut away in a flush of heat that surprised them both. She met the challenge of lips and teeth and tongue, plunging deeper into the kiss and pulling him after.

  Nick felt her quake as he held her. Her strength, her fragility, her secrets combined to draw him on and in. Nothing, no one had ever been like this for him. He couldn’t pull back from it, couldn’t pull away from her. Nothing in him wanted to.

  She was intoxicating in her desire. It didn’t matter that they were on a public street in broad daylight. The dominant thought in his head was more. He felt her hands in his hair, shuddered as she traced fingers down his back. He ran his lips down her jaw, tasting the silky skin, and heard her soft moan.

  How could she defend against this, Sloane wondered dizzily. It was as though he’d taken her over. It seemed impossible that she’d existed without this feeling for so long. Now, like a starving woman confronted with a banquet, she was incapable of holding back. Get away, she thought, even as her arms pulled him closer. Then his mouth found hers again and for that instant of time she became incapable of coherent thought. There was only seduction and pleasure, the sharp nip of teeth tantalizing her, the taste and texture of his tongue arousing.

  They were in public, Nick reminded himself. Some sane portion of his mind warned him to stop before he lost control entirely.

  Before he took it too far.

  He dragged himself back from the edge and gathered enough strength to press her away. They stared at each other, breathing hard. Sloane’s eyes were hot with fury and desire.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she asked in a shaking voice.

  “The same thing you were doing. Are you going to tell me you didn’t enjoy it?”

  “No, I’m not.” Her gaze was unflinching. “But it doesn’t matter. I keep telling you I don’t want to get involved.”

  He reached out and traced a finger down her throat, watching her shiver. “I think it might be a little too late for that.” He gave her a friendly smile. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to the department.”

  Home was usually a sanctuary, but not that night. Sloane prowled her flat restlessly. Cambridge was never short of distractions, but she didn’t really feel like being out among people. A workout might have let her burn off the nervous tension, but she’d already been to the gym that morning. She debated a glass of wine. To relax, she told herself, but she knew that it would be partly to banish thoughts of Nick and decided against it.

  He was sadly confused if he thought that something was brewing between them. It wasn’t going to happen. She couldn’t afford to let it. And yet, somehow it felt as if it was slipping out of her control.

  The sound of the front bell made her start a little. She crossed over to the intercom. “Hello?”

  “Sloane, it’s Candy.”

  It was the last voice she’d have expected. Candy, her brother’s widow. Candy, who’d been as close a friend as she’d ever had.

  Candy, whom she hadn’t seen in over a year and a half. Once upon a time, they’d been almost like sisters. They’d done everything together. They’d been close enough to finish one another’s sentences.

  Once upon a time.

  And the loss that never really went away came welling up again, made vivid by the reminder of Candy’s voice.

  The intercom buzzed again. “Hello? Is this thing working?”

  Sloane bit down on her lower lip, hard. “Sorry, I missed the button. Come on up.”

  The minute it took Candy to come inside gave Sloane a chance to regain her composure. By the time she met her at the top of the stairs, Sloane could give her a hug and a genuine smile. For a minute, everything was all right.

  Candy had lost weight since they’d seen each other last. Her hair was a brighter gold, there was a new assurance in her movements.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Candy’s mouth quirked. “Gee, Sloane, it’s nice to see you, too.”

  “No, it’s great to see you. I meant what brings you up from Hartford?”

  “I’ve got a two-day marketing seminar in town. I left a message on your answering machine about a week ago, asking about dinner.” She glanced over to where the machine sat blinking. “Of course, you may not have gotten it.”

  Sloane shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t check the machine here very often. Work’s the best place to get me.”

  A mixture of reproach and resignation flickered over Candy’s face. “Checking out from the world again?”

  “Not at all,” Sloane said briskly, shoving the guilt away down deep. “For example, tonight I’m going to take my sister-in-law out to dinner.”

  “Unless your sister-in-law takes you out first,” Candy replied. “Expense account, remember? Dinner’s on me, tonight.” She grinned. “Get your coat and let’s go somewhere nice. I’m starving.”

  They lingered over dinner at Icarus, bathed in the warm rosy glow of the tony South End restaurant’s dark wood and blush-colored walls.

  “So how are things?” Sloane asked. “You look good. I like the hair.”

  “Thanks. I was worried it was going to come out too blond, but it seems to work.”

  “Very polished. You look like a fast-tracker. Is the seminar going well?”

  “Good. I’m learning a lot so time goes pretty fast. How’s work going for you?”

  “Great. I’m keeping busy.”

  “A good way to keep warm this time of year. I swear it’s another four or five degrees colder up here than back home.”

  How had it come to this? Sloane wondered. There was a time when Candy would have been her first confidante about everything. Forget about hair and weather, they’d have poured some wine and started really dishing, sharing their lives. Now, they’d been reduced to small talk.

  A wave of regret washed through her. She set down her fork.

  “So, it’s Pete’s birthday in a couple of weeks,” Candy was saying. “He’s going to be thirteen. We’re having a little party. I thought maybe you could come down for it. It would mean a lot to him.”

  Come down to the house where Sloane had lived with Mitch and his wife after their grandfather had died, while she was finishing high school, going to UConn. Sloane swallowed. “I don’t see how I can.” She remembered her last visit to the Hartford house, the memories crowding up around her until she couldn’t breathe. The memories Candy brought with her. “It’s just that I’m in a critical phase of this project right now.”

  “You’ve been in a critical phase for the past four years,” Candy said quietly.

  “We’ve started testing. Now’s the time that really counts.”

  “Now’s the time with Pete, too.”

  “Candy, I just need to get past this,” Sloane said desperately, knowing as she said it that she wasn’t talking about the Orienteer project.

  “I know that you do.” Candy’s voice was soft as she looked down at the pale-rose tablecloth. Laughter erupted at a table across the room. The waiter leaned in to clear away their entrees.

  “Dinner was wonderful. You’re going to have to come here for marketing seminars more often,” Sloane said, trying for a change in subject.

  “Hartford’s not that far away, you know,” Candy told Sloane as she topped off their glasses. “You could come to dinner. We miss you,” she added.

  “I check in with you guys,” Sloane protested.

  �
�Sure. Birthday cards, holiday cards. Shoot, not a week goes by that Pete doesn’t get a postcard or a letter from you. But I bet he could walk right past you on the street and you wouldn’t recognize him. It’s not the same, Sloane.”

  It felt as though she were sinking in quicksand and her chest tightened. “I’ve been pretty tied up with work.”

  “Sure. Work.”

  “I’m doing something important, Candy. When it’s done, I’ll have more time. Hey, how’s Pete doing?” she asked, trying to ignore the flash of hurt in Candy’s eyes. “He doesn’t write back very often.”

  There was a pause. “Not great,” Candy said finally. “He’s a good kid but he’s having trouble in school. He’s not concentrating well. He hasn’t, really, since we lost Mitch.”

  Sloane’s stomach tightened. “Is he still seeing the therapist?”

  “Some.” Candy spun her wineglass slowly by the stem. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” She hesitated. “Mitch never wanted to talk much about when you lost your parents. How was it for you?”

  Like the world had spun off its axis and nothing would ever be safe again. And it was just the first time she would have that feeling. “God, Candy, it’s hard to go back there. I was so young.”

  “Eight isn’t that young, Sloane.” Her eyes were bleak. “Talk to me. Help me understand. How do you get past it?”

  How could Sloane tell her that sometimes maybe you didn’t?

  “The therapist says he has to work his way through it so that he doesn’t get emotionally locked in. I don’t think he’s ever really grieved. How did you do it?”

  “I don’t know. I had Mitch. I had my grandparents.” She paused. “For a while, anyway.”

  “Pete has my parents, he’s got me. Maybe he’s got to get used to the fact that that’s all he’s got.”

  “I do what I can,” Sloane whispered.

  Candy reached across the table and took her hand. “I know.”

  Chapter Five

  The sounds of ringing shattered the silence in the dark room. Nick jerked awake. Reflexively, he reached for his turnouts, searching blindly with his hand. And came up with a remote control. Consciousness dawned even as the ring repeated.

  It wasn’t an alarm, he realized, it was his phone.

  “Yeah,” he mumbled into the receiver, swinging groggily upright on his living-room couch. He’d stumbled into his house after working a twenty-four-hour trick, dumped his kit and flopped down on the couch intending to relax for a few minutes before he did something about dinner.

  That had been ten hours before.

  “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t realize you’d be asleep. I’ll call you later.”

  It was his mother. He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Hey. Everything okay?”

  “Of course. Everything’s fine, I’ll let you go.”

  “It’s okay, I’m up now.” He yawned. “Talk to me. I’ve got to stay on a normal schedule anyway. Billy’s got a rush job to frame up a couple of houses.” Billy Burnett was a local contractor who threw work Nick’s way when he had time. “I’m going to work for him Thursday through Saturday.”

  “Those are your days off.”

  “I need the money. I didn’t do a lick of work for him the last two months because of the exam. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Renovation of this place ain’t cheap, you know,” he added, looking around the living room of the Methuen fixer-upper he’d bought the year before.

  “I think it’s criminal that the fire department doesn’t pay you men a living wage. What other job forces people to kill themselves working outside jobs to make ends meet?”

  Nick rose and stretched. “Feel free to write the city of Boston, but I don’t think it’ll change any time soon. It is what it is, Ma. Besides, I like swinging a hammer.”

  His mother snorted, unconvinced. “How did your exam go?”

  “I think I scored pretty high but that doesn’t mean anything until the rankings come out. I’m hoping I’ll wind up near the top of the list. Then it’s just a matter of waiting for an opening.”

  “How long?”

  “Hard to say. Could be months, could be a couple years.” He rose and headed toward the kitchen, taking the cordless phone with him. “So how was your birthday?”

  “Very nice. Jacob and I drove to Gabriel’s hotel and we all had dinner. That’s why we weren’t home when you called.”

  “Champagne kisses and caviar dreams?” He rummaged in the cupboard for a new coffee filter.

  “It’s a beautiful place. A little too snitzy for me, but Gabriel loves it and you can tell the people who work for him like him a lot.”

  Now is was Nick’s turn to snort. “It’s all an act. They live in fear of him. He’s broken their spirits.”

  “Oh, I expect he’s a very fair boss, just like you are.”

  “And did you like your gift?” he asked, scooping coffee into the filter.

  “It’s lovely.” Pleasure bloomed in her voice. “Such a sweet idea. I wish I could wear it all the time.”

  “Why can’t you?”

  She laughed. “Gathering eggs in the henhouse? With my luck I’d catch it on a nail or something and break it.”

  “Ma, if you want to wear it, wear it. That’s why we got it for you. Put it under your shirt if you’re worried.”

  “Do you think?”

  “Yeah, I think. It’ll be fine.”

  “Then I will,” she said happily.

  “Glad to see you’ve got some sense. So how’s everything else going?”

  “Oh, we’re well. We got about six inches of snow last night, so Jacob’s been up and down in the groves making sure everything is all right.”

  “It’s good for him. Gives him something to do.” Nick focused on the coffeemaker, willing it to brew.

  “I think he’s happiest when he’s got a to-do list a mile long and most of it involves being outside,” she agreed. “He’s always been the best suited of the three of you to the farm.”

  God knew he hadn’t been, Nick thought. Too much quiet, not enough action. Being in the ladder truck headed to a fire in Boston, that was where he was happiest. “Everything okay with Gabe? I haven’t talked with him for a while.”

  “Oh he’s fine. A little worried, maybe. The owner of his hotel passed away and they’re making rumblings about changes.”

  “Gabe doesn’t mind changes.” That would be Jacob, who always wanted things to remain the same.

  “Yes, but he wants to be the one to choose them. How did I raise three such stubborn men?”

  Nick grinned as he poured coffee and took a blissful sip. “Surely we couldn’t have gotten it from you?”

  “You know who you got it from. There wasn’t a more stubborn man born than your father.”

  “Lucky for us. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have kept after you until you married him and we wouldn’t be here.”

  “Well, I’m glad he stuck with it, too. Anyway, I should let you go. I was mostly calling to see if you survived.”

  “I did, thanks. Sorry I missed your birthday. I’ll try to get up there soon. I’ve got a lot of work in the next couple months, but I should have a few days coming after that.”

  “We’re going to see you at Thanksgiving, aren’t we?”

  Guilt pricked at him. “I wish. I’m booked for day shift the day before and then night shift on Thanksgiving.”

  “Oh.” She paused. “That’s a shame. The other kids are all going to be here and I’ve invited the other Trasks.”

  “The whole clan,” he said slowly. “You haven’t done that in years.”

  “I thought it would be nice to gather for something happy for a change.”

  Even all these months later, the whisper of grief still lurked in her voice. And it left him with the same helpless feeling it always did. “I don’t see how I can do it, Ma. The best I could do would be drive up for breakfast and head out after.”

  “Of course not. You’d spend more time on the road
than you would with us. I don’t want you to take the chance of being tired in a fire. Stay in Boston. We’ll keep.”

  “I really will make it up there. I swear. Look, I’ve got a three-day break after the holiday. I’ve got some cabinets being delivered for the house, but I’ll try to get up for a couple of days at the end.”

  “Are you ever going to finish that house?”

  Nick looked around the living room with its stripped walls awaiting fresh paint. “One of these days.”

  “And then you’ll sell it and turn around and buy another. You thrive on chaos, Nicholas,” she said reprovingly.

  “I thrive on hard work.”

  “Like your brothers. I thought now that your test was out of the way, we might see you a little more.”

  “I’ll get up there the week after the holiday, I swear.”

  “And you’ll spend the whole time itching to install those cabinets,” she said in amused resignation.

  Nick shrugged. “They’ll keep.”

  “Put in your cabinets. Come up later if you can. Are you working Christmas?”

  “Christmas Day. I’m off Christmas Eve, though.”

  “Then you can come up then.”

  “Or you can come down.”

  “Don’t you want to see your brothers?”

  Nick didn’t want to go there. “Look, I’ll make it up there,” he promised. “Soon. Tell everyone I said hello and tell Jacob to give you a big kiss for me.”

  The last light from the setting sun was fading as Sloane pulled her car into the little parking lot next to the fire station. It was the worst part about fall, the gradual shortening of the days. Sloane turned off her engine and let out a long breath, tapping her fingers on the wheel. A week had passed since the scene in front of the diner. A week during which she’d been completely unable to work out any rational plan when it came to dealing with Nick Trask.

  Not that she had a lot of experience when it came to dealing with men in general. Oh, she’d dated in high school a few times but little more. It had been college before she’d gotten serious about anyone. She’d met Greg Bentley in a lab class junior year. He’d made her laugh, talked her into study sessions that stretched into pizza and beer at the student center. Those sessions had morphed into dates, at first occasional and then regularly. Let me in, he’d said. He’d been patient and she’d finally trusted him enough, cared for him enough to give him her innocence in a night that she still didn’t regret.