Burning Up

by Susan Andersen

“Ah, well, now.” He stepped forward and she retreated as the hard muscle beneath the soft cotton of his black T-shirt brushed her breasts. He kept backing her up until they were in her living room, then closed the door behind them. “Too late to come all-over prim on me now, luv. I already know how much you like it when I talk dirty.” He looked over her shoulder. “This is a nice flat. What is that you’re doing over there?”

  Interest lighting his sunlight-shot-whiskey eyes, he skirted her to reach the spot on the floor where she’d rolled out a long length of green construction paper and arranged the snapshots she’d been taking all summer of her upcoming students. Glue and scissors and a stack of fall-colored paper leaves were positioned above the top edge around the midway point.

  “I’m planning my classroom bulletin board.”

  “Hey.” He squatted down to indicate a photograph. “That’s Ty. And here’s his friend Charlie.” He turned a white smile on her. “This is bleedin’ deadly, Grace. If I’d seen my kisser on my teacher’s wall back in Fourth Class, I would’ve been one thrilled little bugger.” His brows furrowed for a second, making the little silver barbell beneath the left one shift. “Seems like Ty and Charlie should be closer together, though. I haven’t seen the two of ’em separated since I got here.”

  “Now that you mention it, neither have I.” She sank down to sit cross-legged next to him and switched Zach Westler’s snapshot with Charlie’s.

  Jack’s left arm crossed her vision as he reached to pick up a leaf. She got a quick glimpse of a few of the individual tattoos that made up the whole: a Celtic cross, vines, a koi within a fleshy unfurling flower, an icon with an eye in the middle that looked East Indian or Aztecan. Then his thumb gently caressed the crumpled-then-smoothed orange tissue paper she’d glued atop a gold construction-paper leaf, traced its green string veins. “I like this. Where are you going to put it?”

  She pointed to a spot, and he set it in place, then spent a moment finessing the angle. Picking up another, he raised his brows and she pointed out another spot. He arranged that one, as well.

  As if her hand belonged to a stranger, she watched it reach out and trace the tattooed heart on his inner forearm, aware of the heat of his skin beneath the word Mum, which was written on a narrow banner that waved through the heart’s middle.

  He stilled and turned his head to look at her. Her intentions must have been clear on her face, for he raised that brow again and said, “Yeah?”

  She wet her lips. “Yes.”

  “Just to be clear, you’re willing to put aside this brilliant art in favor of shagging?”

  “I am.”

  “Thank you, Jayzus,” he said fervently, and she grinned at him, expecting to be pulled to her feet and asked the way to the bedroom.

  Jack had other ideas. Pulling her over to straddle his lap, he scooted out of reach of the bulletin board project and rolled her onto her back. Then he plastered himself over her, kissing her to within an inch of her life.

  It was the first time in Grace’s life a man had ever wanted her too much to wait for the nicety of a bed. The knowledge set loose her inner hottie. Igniting, she returned his kiss with everything she had. The next thing she knew, it was a full-fledged conflagration.

  “ARE YOU FREAKING kidding me? Three times?”

  Color flowed up Macy’s neck as she looked at her cousin’s incredulous tone. Crap. She hadn’t meant to say a word about that part of this morning’s events. Only…

  Making love with Gabriel had been like nothing she’d ever experienced, and she’d just sort of blurted it out before her inner censor could catch up with her big mouth.

  “Seriously?” Janna demanded. Shifting on the seat of the chintz chair in their room, her newly cast-free leg supported by the ottoman, she gave Macy an enthralled look. “My personal best was twice. And in all honesty? That happened exactly one time. Sex with Sean was usually more about him than me, so unless I lent myself a hand I was lucky to get the first O, never mind a second.”

  “That still made you one up on me. I thought multiple orgasms were a myth.” Sex wasn’t something she’d participated in even a fraction as often as people around here seemed to think. Still, she had had a couple of lovers she’d always assumed were pretty good.

  They hadn’t come close to giving her what she’d experienced with Gabriel, though. Not on their best day.

  Maybe that was why she’d said that stupid you-make-me-feel-safe stuff to him. She’d been mortified when it sunk in what she’d revealed because it just sounded so damn…needy. She was a big girl, dammit, and she didn’t need anything, thank you very much.

  Still, for all her self-directed pep talks aimed at assuring herself she’d exercised at least a modicum of damage control, uneasiness over the whole business—the dancing-on-the-edge-of-the-abyss screaming sex Gabriel had introduced her to, her uncharacteristic you-big-strong-protector/me-helpless-little-woman response—continued to slice through the rationales she’d been using to convince herself it was no big deal.

  Although, come to think of it…

  Now that her emotions weren’t so raw it occurred to her that he might have thought she meant she felt safe with him because he’d rescued her from a burning building.

  Her shoulders, which had been creeping toward her ears, relaxed. Of course. It made perfect sense that she’d rely on him under those circumstances.

  Not that any of it mattered. The moment Janna was up and self-sufficient again, she was out of here.

  So what if she was enjoying Sugarville again or that the thought of leaving gave her an unexpected pang? Hell, that was completely understandable. Because of course it was going to be hard to leave Auntie and Uncle and Janna and Ty. But she could hardly come up with cutting-edge video concepts living in a hick-water town.

  Could she?

  “Between the fire, your, um, stop at Gabe’s house and the fuss we all made when you got back home, you’ve had a helluvan eventful day,” Janna said. “I have to tell you, I was surprised by how well you held up beneath everyone’s concern. And impressed at how calm you stayed when we were all coming at you at once, wanting either to wrap you up in cotton wool or demanding all the gory details. But now…”

  “Uh-huh.” Leaning back against her dresser, she shot her cousin a lazy smile. “But now you know it’s because…” She pinned down her pinkie finger with her thumb and held up the remaining three fingers.

  Janna laughed, but although Macy liked that her cousin thought she was kidding, it was no joke. The way she’d felt when she and Gabriel left the clinic, she would have cracked under the bombardment of questions, felt smothered by the concern that had radiated from her relatives in waves—never mind dealing with the boarders’ voracious curiosity—if Gabe had brought her straight home. Yet his transforming lovemaking and his need, which had seemed to have matched her own—except he apparently didn’t think it took anything away from him the way she feared hers might—had given her back her equilibrium, not to mention stripping her of all tension.

  A private smile curved her lips.

  “Wow,” Janna said, studying her. “I guess you really let down your guard with Gabe.”

  “What?” Macy snapped erect. “No.” She forced a laugh. Because she hadn’t, had she? She shook her head. No, ma’am. That momentary “feel safe” insanity aside, she was too savvy to get too comfortable—or involved—with any man. That never led to anything but trouble. “It was just…all the moons aligning, y’know?” Her shoulder hitched. “Right situation, right time, right guy.”

  “Sure,” Janna agreed, shooting her a knowing smile. “You being such a player and all when it comes to sex.” She made a get-real noise. “Admit it, you like him.”

  “Well, yeah. Of course I do, or I couldn’t’ve—” she waved a hand “—you know, gotten naked with him. But it’s not like I’m in love with the guy or anything.”

  “Uh-huh.” Janna gave her a look so understanding it made Macy squirm. “You just keep telling yourself t
hat.”

  “You are so full of it,” Macy muttered, knowing full well her cousin couldn’t hear as she stomped down the hallway minutes later. Determined to find an opinion she liked better, she made a beeline for Jack’s trailer. Hell, he knew her better than Janna did these days, anyhow.

  Probably.

  Maybe.

  Jack hadn’t been around when Gabriel had brought her home earlier, however, and now, glancing out the library/rec room window as she passed its doorway, she feared he was still AWOL, since his truck appeared to be gone from the lot behind the house.

  Now what? Her postcoital relaxation was fading fast beneath her irritation at her cousin’s refusal to accept that she wasn’t falling in love. For cri’sake. The idea was preposterous. Even so, Janna’s all-but-laugh-in-her-face adherence to the notion made her feel restless and frankly itchy.

  Gabe had gone out to the Kilimner place again to investigate the fire, so he wasn’t around. And in all honesty, now that she was no longer in the grip of his burn-down-the-town brand of lovemaking, she wasn’t all that certain she could even look at him without feeling ten kinds of self-conscious, never mind carry on a coherent conversation. Because, Lord. She had never felt anything like that with any man, let alone responded in a way even approaching the brazenness she’d displayed with him.

  She wouldn’t mind the distraction of chauffeuring Ty to whatever was on today’s schedule—the pool again, if she remembered correctly, followed by tryouts for soccer—but her aunt seemed to think she should be resting. And Auntie so rarely dug in her heels that when she did there was no arguing with her. As a result, Uncle Bud had taken over Macy’s usual chores.

  She considered throwing herself into a dress-up session to end all dress-up sessions. But in all honesty, even if she could dredge up the least desire to return to her and Janna’s room where she’d open herself up to even more comments she didn’t want to hear, she was in no mood to muck about with costumes and cosmetics.

  Sometimes real life just sucked the joy right out of make-believe.

  She went out onto the front porch, but there wasn’t so much as a breath of fresh air or shade to be found. So she went back inside to poke her head into the kitchen, secretly relieved when her aunt wasn’t there. She wandered into the rec room and shot a desultory, solitary game of pool. Then she decided, heat or no heat, a walk would help clear her mind and settle her down, so she went back to the kitchen, grabbed an apple and let herself out the back door.

  She was heading back from the relative coolness of the orchard a bit later when she heard the throaty sound of Jack’s diesel-fueled truck coming up the drive and promptly corrected her course toward his trailer. She was there to meet him when he pulled up next to his trailer and shut down the engine.

  Before she could say more than a God-I’m-glad-to-see-you inspired “Hey,” Jack had leaped out of the cab and grasped her upper arms. “You all right?” he demanded. “I heard in town that you were trapped in a burning building.”

  “I’m fine—Gabriel got me out before things got completely hairy. But how on earth did you hear about it?”

  “I stopped by the bank to use the ATM and that cute little bird manning the window told me.”

  “Good God. The Internet has nothing on Sugarville when it comes to instant communication.”

  “I know.” Grinning, he slung a wiry arm around her shoulders and ushered her into his trailer. “I love this town.”

  Macy felt a strange twinge. Because a huge part of her loved it, too. But it seemed to be constantly engaged in a war with another part that thought matters would be best served all ’round if she hit the road back to southern Cal the instant Janna was up to resuming her responsibilities.

  “Clearly they love you, too,” she said a bit sourly, “because not a soul has sold your story to the rags and brought the paparazzi down on your head. Me, they want to burn in effigy. Well, when they’re not actively trying to drown me, that is.”

  Jack’s countenance promptly darkened. “You’ll get no argument from me there’s some shitehawk wankers in this town. But a lot of folks have been nice, too—and to you as well as me, luv, even knowing what they think they know about you. I love that I can walk down Commerce Street without being mobbed. And that I can actually hold a conversation that doesn’t begin and end with my ability to rock a guitar.” He smacked his forehead. “But what a gob I am to keep you standing.” Sweeping the Sunday papers off the dinette’s bench seats, he waved her in. “Here. Sit yerself down. Can I get you a G?”

  “I can’t drink a whole Guinness, but I’d love a snort.”

  He pulled a bottle from the cupboard, opened it and poured a shot into a teacup. The rest he upended into a beer mug and brought them both over. Handing her the dainty flowered cup, he slid into the dinette seat opposite her. “Tell me about the fire. How the bloody bollocks did you get trapped?”

  She recounted her adventure, conscious that she didn’t have the same discomfort sharing the details with him that she’d had with her family. Jack didn’t exclaim or baby a person to death, and she tried to verbalize her appreciation. “One of the things I love about you is your laid-back approach. I gotta tell you I dreaded coming home this afternoon because I knew Auntie and Uncle’s first inclination would be to wrap me in cotton wool. Instead I talked Gabriel into taking me out to see the house he’s building.”

  “Sounds like he was an all-around big help today, yeah?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” she agreed, seeing too late the trap in having introduced the topic. Heat crawled up her throat and onto her cheeks.

  Good grief. She’d blushed more since coming back to Sugarville than she had in the entire ten years she’d been gone.

  His mug of ale suspended midway to his mouth, Jack stared at her. Then he slowly lowered it back to the table. “Feckin’ hell. You did the deed with Donovan.”

  Her face burned hotter yet.

  “What do they bleedin’ do, put Spanish fly in the town reservoir?”

  “Okay, that’s an odd little segue,” she said, puzzled, as she searched his face. Then a lightbulb went off over her head and she slowly set her own cup on the table. “Oh. My. Gawd. Jack Savage, have you been getting busy with my nephew’s schoolteacher?”

  His eyes went soft. “She’s amazing, Mace. I like her…damn.” He shook his head. “More than I have words to say.”

  She didn’t know why it bothered her. It wasn’t the fact that he had a thing for Grace. She liked the teacher a lot and could actually visualize her with Jack, as Grace was just the nice-girl type he had always gone for. But his easy acceptance of his feelings—that made her uncomfortable. “Janna thinks I’m in love with Gabriel,” she blurted. Picking up her teacup, she tossed back the last sip, then blotted her lips with the back of her hand. “Isn’t that the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard?”

  “Hell, no. Dumbest thing I’ve heard is any word out of that cod Mayfield’s mouth. You and Gabe, on the other hand—Jayzus, you’ve been strikin’ sparks off each other for as long as I’ve been here.”

  “Okay, sure. But that’s just—you know—sex. Janna suddenly claiming I’m in love with the man is something entirely different. Jeez, Jack, I’ve known him for all of five minutes. I’m not about to fall head over heels for a guy I’m barely even acquainted with—”

  He snorted. “I’d say you made a good piece of progress down that road today.”

  Heat flared, deep and unbidden, as Jack’s words triggered a memory of Gabe’s hot mouth against her skin and the look that had been in his eyes as he slid deeply—

  She slammed a door shut on the memory. “As I was saying—” Essaying a coolness she didn’t feel, she lifted her chin. “The idea that I’m in love with a guy who I know well only in the Biblical sense…well, that’s about as logical as you deciding you’re in love with Grace.”

  “Ah, well, now, here’s the thing, luv,” he said with a befuddled smile. “I think I may be.”

  “No.” Macy scratched
her arms in an attempt to alleviate the sudden persistent itch just under her skin. “That doesn’t make sense. If I’ve known Gabriel five minutes, you’ve known Gracie three. That’s simply not long enough to fall in love.”

  He shrugged. “Who’s to say what constitutes long enough?” Reaching across the table, he ruffled her hair. “Sometimes, Macy girl, the heart just decides on its own timetable.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  GABE STARED BLANKLY at the slim stack of file folders in his lap. A hot, dry breeze plucked at his hair, rolling in through the open window of his SUV, which was parked beneath the stand of Douglas firs and alders out near the county line. It was the same spot where he and Johnny had gotten together the day Macy first rolled into town.

  Maybe that was why every time he let his mind drift, hoping his subconscious would miraculously solve his arsonist case, he found himself thinking of her instead—and about the best-damn-sex-ever morning they’d shared two days ago.

  He wanted more. He’d taken a stab at convincing himself that one session with Macy was enough, that the smart money was on backing off. But he didn’t buy it. She was sweet and fun and so giving with the people she cared about that it just knocked him on his butt.

  The sudden funny pang in the region of his heart—almost as if he desired to be counted among that select group—caught him unprepared for a moment. Then he shook it off. Because that wasn’t what their relationship was about.

  Still, that kind of sex didn’t just roll around every day of the week. So what if it wasn’t the greatest love match of their generation? Hell, with the increasing progress Janna was showing in her recovery, Macy probably wouldn’t even be around much longer.

  They might as well explore the possibilities as long as she was.

  It was a damn good idea—maybe even brilliant. The only drawback was that she clearly wasn’t on the same page of his game plan. Here they were, two people living in the same house, and his few glimpses of her since bringing her home the day before yesterday had been her shapely butt going out the door of whatever room he walked into.