Ember's Fire: A Hearts of Harkness Romance (The Standish Clan Book 2)

by Norah Wilson

  Jace would have enjoyed it a hell of a lot more had his thoughts not kept drifting back to The Shamrock Arms. What the hell was Terry doing to those people? Probation for someone like Sarah who’d been with the Arms for thirty years? He hoped she would take his advice and call his lawyer, Chris McGrath. Hank too. His brother had no qualms about running people into the ground if it suited his purposes. At this point, probably no one could rescue the situation for the current workers. Not with Terry in charge. But McGrath could at least make sure that WRP Holdings paid for Terry’s arrogance with some fat constructive dismissal settlements. Maybe Terry would even learn a lesson.

  “Mister, I think you need a walking stick!”

  Jace turned his head to see a young boy who’d suddenly popped up beside him. He looked to be about eight, and smiled at Jace, displaying a gap left by a missing front tooth.

  “You think so?” Actually, it wasn’t a bad idea at all. He didn’t really need crutches, but neither did it feel great to put full weight on the ankle.

  “My grampy makes the best darn walking sticks around.” The boy held his gaze with dark brown, intelligent eyes. “He’s got a little booth at the back here. Calhoun’s Carving. And that’s not even the best part.”

  “What’s the best part?” Jace strove to keep a serious expression in the face of the kid’s sales pitch.

  “I get what’s called a ‘commission’ for everyone I bring to the booth who buys something. Do you know what a commission is?”

  “I’ve heard the term before.”

  “A commission is another word for a dollar.”

  Jace nodded, thoughtfully. “How’s business?”

  That missing-tooth made an appearance again. “About to get better, hopefully!”

  Ten minutes later, Jace found himself deep in the market and the proud owner of a polished beech walking stick, hand-carved by Grampy Calhoun himself. It took him a little while to get it right, mainly because he tried using it on his weak side. But as the senior Calhoun explained, it should be carried on the strong side and moved with the weak leg. Once he got the rhythm figured out, he decided it was possibly the best fifty bucks he’d ever spent. The commission earner was already off again scouring the market for his next mark. Jace caught a glimpse of him escorting an older woman by the arm towards his grampy’s shop.

  Jace made his way back to where he had parted company with Ember, intending to wait for her there. He didn’t have her zeal for market shopping. He was more of a get in, get out kind of guy. When he did have to shop for something, he knew what he was after, made a bee-line for it. And that’s exactly what he did when he spotted the Callaghan’s booth.

  He could take or leave booze, but he really enjoyed Callaghan’s products, which included a number of organic fruit wines. He selected a blackberry-gooseberry-plum blend, and another honey mead/rhubarb concoction. Hopefully he and Ember would get a chance to drink one of them. Except this time, he’d be damned sure not to wash down any painkillers with it.

  He thanked the merchant and turned around to see Ember standing there smiling approvingly at his purchase. Not only did she wear the new bright scarf around her neck, new earrings dangled from her ears. Small silver hoops. She carried a shoulder tote made of simple burlap, but finely crafted. It bulged with her purchases. But what really struck him was how beautiful she was. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “Penny for your thoughts.”

  “Just a penny?” Jace grinned. “You should work on commission. Pays better.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Long story.” He moved to stand by her.

  “Well, look at you. I see you got yourself a walking stick.”

  “Hand carved by Odbur Calhoun.”

  “Does he have other wood crafts, or just the walking sticks?”

  Jace started to tell her that he was all about the sticks and canes when she leaned around him.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  He turned to see what she was gazing at with such awe. “What?”

  She brushed past him, crossing quickly to a booth directly behind them full of what he’d taken to be yard sale quality odds and sods. She went straight to a colorful dish and picked it up.

  “Oh my God. Just…oh my God!”

  “You’ve got good taste, young lady,” a woman said from behind the counter.

  Jace peered closer to see what Ember held. “A gravy boat?” He looked at the tiny price tag. A hundred bucks? “A pretty expensive one, isn’t it?”

  Ember slid him a dagger look. “I’d pay ten times that.”

  Whoa, way not to negotiate. But as Ember turned the dish gently in her hands, he noticed it had a Christmas pattern on it. And then it clicked.

  “This is it—the exact match to the gravy boat I broke when I was nine.” She lifted shining eyes to him. “Remember, Jace?”

  He did remember. She’d told him about it years ago. She’d been helping her mother with Christmas dinner. Not very effectively, but Margaret Standish hadn’t said a word. Not until she turned around from cutting the pies on the counter to see Ember attempting to drain the gravy into the gravy boat she held in her hand. Her mother had cried, “No, Ember!” and rushed to stop her, knowing she was bound to burn herself badly with the hot gravy if she tried to do it that way. Ember had managed to put the gravy pan down with the only casualty being the stovetop, which got heavily splattered. But she’d bobbled the gravy boat and dropped it. Not a big deal. That’s what her mother had told her. My fault, sweetie. I should have got you to cut the pie while I dealt with the hot gravy. But on their first Christmas as a couple, Ember had confided to him how much she’d regretted breaking that gravy boat. She loved those Christmas dishes. Her family’s Christmas dishes.

  A hundred bucks no longer seemed like that big of a deal.

  Ember already had her wallet open. “This is crazy,” she said to the smiling clerk. “I’ve scoured the Internet, looking to find this dish. You wouldn’t also have a sugar bowl?”

  Jace suppressed a grin. There must have been another mishap Jace hadn’t heard about.

  The woman shook her head. “I’ve only that one piece from that pattern.”

  “I guess that would be too much to ask.”

  Ember watched with satisfaction as the other woman wrapped the china dish in tissue and then bagged it in a pretty hand-stenciled paper bag.

  “That’ll be one hundred dollars.”

  Ember handed over two fifties. The merchant tucked it away inside a cash box, then passed her the bag. Ember tucked it carefully into the pretty burlap shopping bag.

  Back at the car, Jace shoved his crutches into the back seat but kept the walking stick with him as he climbed into the passenger seat. Ember slid behind the wheel, putting her purchases on the seat between them. Jace waited for her to turn the key.

  “Maybe it’s a sign,” she said.

  “A sign?” It took him a moment to figure out what she was talking about. “Finding that dish, you mean?”

  She nodded slowly. “I know you’ll think this is crazy. But Jace, I’ve looked for those pieces—the gravy bowl and sugar dish—for years. I’ve looked everywhere. Everywhere. Then here it is in Shamrock Falls, so close to home. And here we are too.”

  “Yes, here we are,” he said softly.

  Her green eyes were luminous, brimming with emotion. He couldn’t have stopped himself if he wanted to, and he didn’t want to. He leaned toward her, captured her head with a hand and pulled her close for a breath-stealing kiss. Only the laughter of nearby children kept him from losing his head.

  With a groan, he pulled back. “Not the best place to suck face, as those kids might say.”

  “There are kids?”

  He laughed. “Yeah. Coming right up on our six.”

  She checked her side view mirror, then turned horrified eyes on him. “Thank God you heard them. They’d have walked right past the car while we were making out.”

  Even as she spoke, they filed past, ea
ch bearing cones piled high with ice cream.

  “I doubt they’d have passed us by.”

  She blushed. “No more kissing in cars.”

  “I don’t know. That seems pretty radical. How about no more kissing in cars in broad daylight, in busy parking lots?”

  “Deal.” Her gaze dropped to the burlap bag between them. “God, I can’t believe I found that piece. As soon as I get home, I’m going to put it in the cupboard with the rest of the dishes. I cannot wait for Christmas dinner now. The gravy never tasted quite right in a different gravy bowl.” Her eyes widened. “Or wait, maybe I could serve up a late Thanksgiving dinner… No, no, I’ll save it for Christmas.”

  Except home wasn’t going to be home much longer. He’d have to tell her soon, before Titus did. But not until they’d spoken to Bridget. He wished he could advance the clock and get that conversation over with. But at the same time, he wished he could stretch these hours out. They might be the last ones they spent together, no matter what Bridget had to say.

  He swallowed, stared straight ahead out the windshield. “So, we still have two hours before we need to be on the road. Are there any other sights you’d like to see?”

  “Could we get that room back at the Arms?”

  That brought his head around. Her eyes held an invitation he was unable to deny, even though she might damn him for it later.

  “We absolutely could.”

  Chapter 22

  “AND THIS was only twelve dollars.” Ember held up the last of her purchases—a colorful, beadwork barrette done up in a simple but beautiful red and gold four-petal flower design.

  “Very nice.”

  She appreciated his focus. A lesser man’s eyes would have glazed over long ago. As it was, Jace was just on that glassy edge. She put the barrette back in her bag.

  When they’d landed back at The Shamrock Arms. Sarah and Hank were still on duty and were glad to put them back in the same room. Both employees seemed more at ease now, especially Sarah. She still had that little bit of worry behind her smile, but that huge ball of tension Ember had sensed in her seemed to have dissipated somewhat. Jace had done that, given them reason to hope their situations could improve.

  They were sitting now on what was just about the most comfortable queen bed Ember had ever experienced. The room had more of a country inn feel than a hotel vibe. Ember loved it—right down to how the windows were angled to give the most spectacular view.

  She reclined on her side, propping herself up on an elbow. “So let’s see what you bought?”

  “My walking stick? You saw it. And it was cheaper than the gravy boat, I might add.”

  “Ah but not nearly so awesome. But I was talking about the wine. What did you get?”

  He explained that they were organic fruit wines, made from blends of things like blackberries, blueberries, gooseberries, plums, apricots, and so on. Most blends, he explained, contained up to five different fruits to give it complexity and layers.

  She sat up. “Can we open one?”

  “Sure. We could each have a glass, then leave the half bottle for the maid.”

  Ember jumped off the bed and fetched the two thin-stemmed wine glasses and a corkscrew from the rustic sideboard that served as an entertainment unit. She handed the glasses over to Jace, while she herself uncorked the wine.

  Jace held the glasses as she poured.

  “You look like you’ve had practice with that.”

  “Jealous?” she teased, then immediately regretted it. “Sorry, Jace, I—”

  “Yes.”

  She could feel the rise of heat in her cheeks as she set the wine on the night table beside them. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was trying to be…I don’t know...playful, I guess. I shouldn’t have. I’m not…”

  “Not what?”

  She bit her lip. “Not unaware that the weekend won’t last forever.” She looked away, up into the chandelier that hung down over the bed. Anywhere but into Jace’s eyes.

  “Well for as long as it lasts, it’s a weekend for truths, isn’t it?”

  His soft words surprised her. Yes, there had been truth between them, but he was also holding something back. And there would be more truth to come, hopefully, from Bridget.

  “Yes,” she agreed. “It’s certainly shaping up that way.”

  “Then let’s make a rule.” He placed the glasses of wine on the night table on his side of the bed. “Nothing’s off the table.”

  This time she didn’t even try to hide her surprise. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Her heart pounded, but she kept her voice steady, normal. “You said you never really had a serious relationship.”

  He nodded.

  “You sort of intimated that you were the reason why those relationships didn’t progress. What did you mean?”

  “Oh, I was the problem, all right.” A distant look came to his eyes. “No matter how beautiful or amazing or kind those women were, they weren’t you.”

  Though she hadn’t had so much as a sip of wine, her head whirled. Was that why her own attempts at relationships had failed?

  At first, she’d been quite wildly attracted to Mick’s long hair, slightly androgenous face, and metrosexual vibe. He was so...cool. But as the relationship progressed, the things she’d told herself she liked about him turned out to be the very things that drove her crazy. He spent more time on his hair than she did, and probably had better facial care products. And then there was the way he fussed about his clothes. She’d had to break it off when she started fantasizing about cutting his ponytail off with the kitchen shears.

  With Harrison, she thought she’d chosen more wisely. Short cropped hair that would never see a man-bun, more masculine features, conservative attire. But she’d found other things to nit-pick. Like the faint clicking sound his jaw made when he chewed, or his excessive neatness. Eventually, her irritation level had made it easier to be alone.

  Could it have been that their only real failing was that they weren’t Jace?

  Yes. Absolutely yes.

  While she might tell the world those relationships had failed because they’d gotten in the way of her doctor dreams, the truth was the issues could have been worked out. The push-pull over her time could have been managed. They were good men, both of them. The negatives she’d focused on were foibles, superficial. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d pulled back because...dammit, there was only one man she’d ever imagined linking her life to.

  To think that Jace might have been handicapped the same way made her heart squeeze. Had he ever sunk his hands into a woman’s hair and inhaled, only to find it didn’t smell right? Or find himself struggling to make conversation with someone he was beginning to think he didn’t even like, for the lamest reasons?

  God, if only things had been different...

  “Jace, that night…” Her heart thudded so hard, she felt dizzy with it. “These last few days…” She paused again, drew a deep breath. “I wanted you to be my first. My only. I know it wouldn’t have been great sex, but it would have been you and me. It would have been everything.”

  “Oh, Ember.”

  There was so much emotion in his voice. It throbbed with the same regret that resonated in her own chest.

  She didn’t know who reached for whom, but she found herself on the bed, on top of him, limbs tangled.They kissed hotly. Desperately. Hands streaked over her clothes, arousing a fire everywhere they touched. Then he flipped her over, pressing her into the mattress with his weight.

  She caught the hem of his T-shirt and dragged it up so she could lay hands on his bare, heated skin. “Can we get these clothes off?”

  “God, yes.”

  He moved off her long enough to shed his clothes. She wasted no time stripping her own off, but before she tossed her flannel shirt, she retrieved the condom she’d put in its pocket.

  He came back down on top of her, his weight pinning her, his chest crushing her breasts, his hands framing her
face, fingers burrowed into her hair. And then his mouth was on hers again, fiercely this time, taking everything she could give.

  She dropped the condom beside her so she could use both hands on him. She glided them over his back, thrilling to the hard muscle beneath warm skin.

  He’d parted her legs and was poised at her entrance before she remembered protection.

  “Wait!” she panted. “The condom.” Casting blindly around with her hand, she found it where she’d dropped it in the sheets.

  After the briefest of pauses, he sheathed himself and moved between her legs again. As fast and furious as the buildup had been, now that he was poised to enter her, he held himself still.

  “Please,” she arched up against him. “Don’t hold back, Jace.” She bit him lightly on the point of his shoulder and he shuddered. “Let’s set this bed alight,” she murmured against his throat. “We tore the Band-Aids off last time with that slow love-making. This time, let’s cleanse those wounds with fire.”

  “Ember...”

  Her name on his lips sounded like a plea for reason, for caution, but she was beyond heeding it. Evidently, so was he.

  Bracing himself above her, he pushed into her, sinking himself to the hilt. She cried out with shock and delight. When he withdrew again, she rose to meet the next thrust and the next. Together they built an inexorable rhythm, drawing them closer and closer to the precipice. When she felt her orgasm coming, she fought with tooth and nail to hold it back, wanting to draw out the agonizing pleasure. But it took her with a ferocity that ripped the top right off her world.

  His thrusts grew faster, wilder, until his own orgasm claimed him a moment later, leaving him shuddering in her arms.

  Tonight, she decided, as she held him tight, glorying in the weight of him. No matter what came of the visit with Bridget Northrup, she would tell him later tonight. She’d fallen in love all over again.

  Chapter 23

  AT JACE’S direction, Ember took Exit 105. Fifteen minutes later, they were cruising through a quaint little neighbourhood.