Up In Flames (Flirting with Fire Book 2)

by Jennifer Blackwood

  She swallowed hard. The space between her thighs ached. She should just brush this off. Reece was a serial flirt. He was probably just trying to talk himself out of a sticky situation. But the heat flaring in his eyes told a different story. One that made her brain turn the emergency shutoff valve. “On that note, I need to get some stuff done around the house.”

  He leaned down, his beard brushing against her cheek. He whispered, “If you ever need help with that list, you know where to find me.”

  The “Hallelujah Chorus” broke out in her head. Another voice yelled, Yes, girl, ride that behemoth of a man until you break! And a third voice was pondering whether everything was anatomically proportionate. Because, whoa. She shoved those thoughts away. She’d entertained it once . . . okay, plus a few more times, and that was enough.

  “Cocky oaf.” And with that, she pushed him out the door and closed it behind him.

  She could hear Reece’s deep laugh through the door.

  Reece stared at his phone. He’d never been one to sign up for dating sites. Found such frivolous things a waste of time and money. Mostly the money portion. He liked to keep that where it belonged—in his bank account. Much to the chagrin of all his previous dates. His buddies teased him that he was cheap, but really, Reece was economical.

  He’d be laughing them to the bank, because his pension was at top tier, and he was set up for retirement. Sure, that made him sound like an old man. But he didn’t like surprises. And also he didn’t want to be working until he was using a walker.

  Jake’s name popped onto the screen, and Reece answered.

  “What’s up?”

  “Come out with us tonight. Hollywood and I are meeting at Henry’s.”

  “Sure.” Why not? He needed to get Sloane off his mind. Something about the dating site didn’t sit well with him. It wasn’t even the money aspect. He didn’t want to think what else it could be besides the fact that Sloane would be subjecting some poor sucker to her glares. Her attitude was enough to scare hardened criminals.

  By nine thirty, he had joined his friends at Henry’s. People gathered in clumps around the high tops and bar. He threaded his way through the crowd and made it to their table in the back corner. Jake and Hollywood were there, pint glasses in their hands. An empty pint glass sat at the open spot at the table, and Reece slid into the booth and poured beer from the pitcher into the pint.

  “Where were you earlier?” Hollywood asked.

  “Helping Sloane with something.”

  Hollywood raised a brow. “Does this something involve shaving her head?”

  “Why?”

  Hollywood grabbed a clump of blue hair from the back of Reece’s shirt and tossed it to the floor. “Just an educated guess.”

  Reece thought back to this afternoon in her bathroom. Her sitting on the counter watching him. The way her legs parted. How he’d fit between them. He had the fleeting thought of taking her right there, pumping into her while her back banged against the mirror. He swallowed hard. “Unclogged her drain.”

  Hollywood nodded. “Not the exciting response I was hoping for.”

  “At least two of the chores are done.” Two more and he could go back to ignoring her. Which was probably for the best. Things had gotten too real today. He’d never opened up like that to anyone before. Where had all that shit about being damaged come from? It was much better to keep those thoughts to himself.

  “So you mean to say nothing’s going to happen between you two? Seems like a missed opportunity, man.”

  If there was ever a time that proved Hollywood knew nothing about women, this was it. “Not going to go there. Just need to finish the last two tasks and be done with it. Then hopefully I still get to keep my job when this ends.”

  “Whatever you say, man. But if I had a chance with Sloane, I wouldn’t pass it up.”

  “You need to be tall enough to climb onto the big-kid rides before you begin to throw out judgment like that, man.” He didn’t like what Hollywood was implying. Not one bit.

  Hollywood’s phone buzzed on the table, and he peered over, then sent the screen to black without responding.

  This happened several more times.

  “You going to answer that?” Reece asked.

  Hollywood flipped over his phone. “Nope.”

  “Angry girlfriend?”

  “Who said anything about angry? Just not sure things are working out.” It looked like there was more to the story, but Reece wasn’t one to push. If his friend wanted advice, he knew where to go.

  “And you don’t want to work it out?” Jake asked.

  Hollywood shrugged. “Not sure.”

  “You should at least text her back. Don’t leave her hanging,” Jake said.

  “Okay, Dad.” Hollywood gave a smug grin.

  “I say the fewer attachments, the better,” Reece said. It’d worked for him so far.

  “Yeah, and you can end up like Reece and have an empty apartment,” Jake said, shifting in his seat.

  The comment caused a spear of anger to slice through Reece.

  A smile spread across Hollywood’s face, and he picked up his phone. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “Hey. It’s called minimalism.” Reece liked his life. Work, food, sleep. A woman’s company every once in a while. He’d never thought of his life as lacking. But when Jake put it that way, it made it seem like he was doing something wrong.

  Jake laughed and took a swig from his pint. “Whatever you want to call it.”

  “Just because you’re sick and in love doesn’t mean the rest of us need to drink the Kool-Aid.” It went without saying that he was happy for his best friend and his sister. But that wasn’t the life he’d planned for himself. Reece didn’t need anyone and was completely fine with that.

  “Whatever you say. Hollywood, I’d text the girl back. It’s worth it,” Jake said.

  Reece took a deep pull from his beer. He definitely did not have enough alcohol in him for this conversation. Not when he kept sneaking glances at Sloane’s dating profile like a bona fide stalker. He noticed that she’d changed her bio, per his suggestion. He didn’t know whether that made him happy or made him want to punch himself in the face.

  “I need to head out. Erin wants to see a movie.” Jake threw down a few bills and stood.

  Reece turned to face Hollywood. “What do you say, Hollywood? Want to take some shots?”

  Hollywood shook his head and continued to nurse the same beer he’d been nursing when Reece had arrived. “I need to take it easy tonight. Going to do stairs tomorrow and don’t want to regret my very existence.”

  Reece sat at the end of the bar with his phone out. On a normal Friday night, he’d be making the rounds, blowing off steam from his shift, talking to women. Tonight, he just wasn’t in the mood. Music blared, and most of the patrons were well into their fourth or fifth drinks at this point.

  He scrolled though the dating app. Was he really living a lonely life? He knew Jake didn’t mean it as an insult, but it had rankled him. More than he expected.

  He stared at the profile page he hadn’t bothered to set up yet. He’d downloaded it to . . . what? Spy on Sloane? That didn’t make for a great explanation. The profile setup page asked for a picture and a description. He scrolled through his gallery and loaded one of the pics he’d taken while he was hiking at Silver Falls and BSed a few lines.

  He looked over the information. This was stupid. He didn’t want to have someone depend on him. He liked the quiet of his apartment. The fact that he could do whatever he pleased and didn’t have to check in with anyone. To hell with what his friends said. He was going to be an eternal bachelor and would happily live that existence. His finger highlighted the words he’d put in the description, and then he hit the “Delete” button.

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning was Reece’s day off from the station. He made his way across town with Andie on the MAX, and they got off at the last stop before Pioneer Square. Every three or four
weeks, he made his way down to the local homeless shelter. He’d been volunteering here since his early teens. Mark, the manager, had been running the place for nearly two decades. The man reminded Reece of his uncle, with his barrel chest and scraggly white beard, and he was always in his signature gray Patagonia hoodie.

  When Reece walked into the shelter, he breathed a sigh of relief. With everything going on at the station and getting roped into being Sloane’s errand boy, he welcomed a moment of routine. The building was packed with people. Some were around Reece’s age with kids in tow, and some were older and looked like they’d been going through a rough time for years. Mark’s shelter specialized in not only giving people a place to stay until they could get on their feet, but he and his partner, Gary, also found a lot of work opportunities for people.

  “Why are we at a homeless shelter?” Andie asked.

  Reece had to remind himself that Andie came from a different generation than he did. Even though he was only twelve years older, it made a whole world of difference when it came to how they were raised by their mom.

  His mother had focused a lot on giving back to the community and had hammered it into Erin and Reece as kids. Reece figured that by the time Andie came around, his mom was tired. And he didn’t blame her. But now Andie wanted to get into college and had zero to show for the last year.

  “You said you needed a way to build that résumé of yours. Well, here you go, kid.”

  Back when he was younger, their mother had started Reece and Erin out volunteering at soup kitchens. Said that giving back to the community was of the utmost importance. Both Reece and Erin had taken that seriously, and they’d ended up in careers that helped the community.

  “I have character. I donate to the Salvation Army during the holidays.” She toyed with the thick braid that hung over her shoulder and glanced around the shelter uncertainly.

  “Spare change in a red tin isn’t going to win you points, Andie.” Jesus, his sister had a lot to learn. He was hoping that he could get her set up on a regular schedule down here. It might do her some good.

  She released a dragged-out sigh. “Fine.”

  “I can’t believe Mom never made you do this when you were in high school.” It hadn’t even been an option when he was younger. He liked that about their family—that they had been so involved with the community.

  “Well, she was busy with you guys, and then once I got to high school, I don’t think she cared as much.” His sister frowned.

  Reece couldn’t even begin to contemplate how that must have felt, but she had a chance to break out from that and do some good today.

  He didn’t know how to respond. Because he’d felt it. How his mom was more worried about the food truck and making ends meet back then.

  “We ruined her,” he admitted.

  “Totally.” She smiled. “So what do we do first?”

  “We meet with the manager.”

  Mark caught sight of Reece and moved from the back part of the building, where he was folding blankets, over to him. He clapped a hand on his back and smiled.

  “Haven’t seen your ugly mug in here lately. Thought you might have disappeared on us.”

  “Been crazy with the job lately.” He shrugged off his coat and hooked it onto the rack in the corner of the volunteer station. The movement felt familiar, something he’d done hundreds of times.

  Andie shuffled next to Reece with her thumbs in her pockets, her back hunched as she nervously looked around.

  “Mark, this is my sister Andie. She’s here to help out a little. Beef up her résumé before she goes off to a big-shot college.”

  The skin around Mark’s eyes crinkled as he beamed at Andie. “Wonderful. Well, we need help in the serving line today. If you could help dish out lasagna, that’d be great. Do you have a food-handler’s card?”

  Andie looked from Mark to Reece. “Yeah. I work on my mom’s food truck, so I know the protocol.”

  “Great. Where’s that other sister of yours? Haven’t seen her around in a while.”

  “She just moved back into the area. Keeping herself busy with a new teaching job,” Reece said.

  Mark smiled and zipped his hoodie closer to his chin as someone opened up the door to the shelter and a gust of chilly morning air funneled in. “Glad to hear it. She always was a great girl.”

  Reece nodded. He and his sister may not have gotten along all the time, but he respected her. They were both worried about Andie, who seemed to be spiraling lately. She was working at their mother’s food truck, but she seemed angrier than normal. The more any of them pushed, trying to figure out why, the more she closed up.

  “What do you need me to do today?” Reece asked, washing his hands in the staff station. The shelter was large compared to others around town, with several rows of sleeping stations, benches upon benches, tables for meals, and an area for job planning and counseling. Mark and Gary had set up an operation that had been highlighted in the national news over the years.

  “Lunch is about to be served. You can help your sister out with scooping minestrone to people.”

  “Works for me.” He liked talking with the families and getting to know them. Most were just in a tight spot because they’d lost a job. He pulled on a smock, a hairnet, and gloves.

  Once the food station was fully prepped, Mark announced to people that lunch was ready.

  A line of about fifty people formed, and Reece started ladling soup. “How are you doing today?” He spooned the minestrone into an older woman’s soup cup, and everything he was worried about earlier slipped to the back of his mind.

  He looked over at his sister, who was dishing out lasagna to a little kid. His sister may be a little rough around the edges, but he hoped that she could get her act together.

  A familiar face moved to the front of the line where Reece was ladling out soup. Eva. She was a regular here at the shelter. Eva had to be in her early fifties, and she camped out on Stark with her husband, who was a military vet.

  “I was wondering when I’d see you again,” she said.

  “Missed seeing your shining face.”

  Eva blushed. “Always such a charmer.”

  Andie snorted. “You’ve really cornered the market on the over-fifty crowd, huh?”

  His sister’s customer-service skills could use a spit shine. “It’s called human decency. You should try it sometime.”

  Andie shrugged and went back to slopping lasagna onto people’s plates.

  Once the lunch rush died down, he and Andie helped Gary clean up the area, putting foil over the leftover food and sliding it into the industrial-size fridge.

  Andie was folding the final piece of foil over a tin of marinara when she said, “Hey, Reece?”

  He glanced up from writing the date on the lasagna tin. “Yeah?”

  Her face softened. “Thanks for helping me out. I know Erin gives you a hard time sometimes, but you’re a really good brother.”

  He wrapped his sister into a side hug. At least he was getting something right. He might piss off Erin, Sloane, and his chief, but at least he could help out Andie.

  Sloane had become addicted to the stupid dating apps. Self-diagnosed, of course. She was currently in the downward-dog pose at Bikram yoga, sweating in places she didn’t think she could sweat, and her eyes kept darting to the pocket of her bag where she’d tucked her phone. Madison had dragged Erin and Sloane to hot yoga since it was Free Guest Saturday at the gym she went to. Yoga wasn’t usually in Sloane’s repertoire. She’d always been more of the fumble-around-on-a-treadmill-and-lift-some-free-weights type.

  New-age spa music funneled out of the speakers in the boom box next to the instructor on the floor. The woman was in her early thirties, had that slim yoga physique, and not even a splotch of red staining her cheeks. Sloane, on the other hand, had sweat dripping onto her yoga mat like she was a leaky faucet.

  “And now we’re moving into happy-baby pose.” Sloane watched as the instructor lay on her back
and then grabbed both of her feet, legs spread wide.

  Sloane did the same. She wasn’t one to stretch often. If often meant never. She grabbed her feet, and the stretch burned. “Holy crap, I think I broke my vagina,” she whispered to Erin, who was on the mat next to her.

  She wondered if she’d had a better sex life—or any sex life, for that matter—over the past year, then maybe she wouldn’t feel like her body was going to snap like a rubber band.

  “Good. And now we are moving into child’s pose. Find your inner peace. Let the worries of today flow out your fingertips,” the instructor urged.

  Sloane didn’t know how she was supposed to find her inner peace when blood was rushing to her head and there was a massive wedgie that needed Excalibur-level extraction, but she closed her eyes and tried to channel inner peace.

  She glanced over at Erin and Madison, who both looked like they were doing a much better job of finding their inner chi.

  The instructor reached for the CD player at the front of the class and turned down the music. “Class is over, my friends. Feel free to take as long as you need to get up from your poses.”

  Sloane groaned as she scrunched up to a kneeling position. “Do you feel as disgusting as I think I must look right now?”

  “Like you’ve just taken a bath in your own sweat?” Erin asked.

  Sloane stood, grabbed the bottle of cleaning product, sprayed down her mat, and then rolled it up. “Is it normal to sweat between your butt cheeks?”

  “It’s called detoxing. You’ll thank your body for this later,” Madison said.

  “Yes, I’ll be thanking it with some Goldfish and a nice red to go along with it,” she said.

  Sloane fished her phone out of her bag and clicked into her messages. Nothing from any of the guys she’d been messaging.

  “Are you guys coming over for Scrabble tonight?” Erin asked while slinging her gym bag over her shoulder. Neither she nor Madison looked nearly as sweaty as Sloane. Maybe she was having hot flashes twenty years early.

  Madison dabbed her face with a white towel. “Can’t. I have to edit photos from my shoot last week. I’m way behind.”