Up in Flames

by Nicole Williams

  I felt his breath against my jaw and I knew if I tilted my chin up a few inches, we would kiss. At least the ironclad willpower I’d honed through my teen years was paying off now. “Elle. I had your number before I came over to talk to you.”

  Cole really did have my number. In fact, he called it the next morning. And again the morning after that. He called every morning that week and left some sort of creative voicemail.

  I never answered.

  Dani had sworn an oath of secrecy to not mention a word about Cole and no one else had leaked the news to Logan that some smokejumper and I huddled rather close in conversation at a kegger.

  Other than work and hanging out at Dani’s house one night, I stayed home. I cowered at home. No more skinny dipping even though it had been sunny and ninety all darn week, I took the long way to work to avoid the few hangouts the smokejumpers liked to frequent, and I definitely stayed away from the parties that seemed to crop up every night.

  Cole was everything I needed to forget, and every thought I couldn’t seem to.

  It was another Friday night close at the diner, but I didn’t have my persistent little helper. After Dani figured out there was either no dirt or none I would give her, she hadn’t brought up the Cole topic again. She was headed to some other party tonight, this one high class since it was actually inside a building. A barn.

  She hadn’t even asked me if I wanted to join her at tonight’s soiree before she high-tailed it out of there as soon as the doors were locked. Probably because I’d been in a funk all week, the kind of funk that would be a major buzzkill at a party.

  Almost every table needed bussed and cleaned since tonight’s florentine and triple berry crepes were a favorite, so I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and slid my promise ring off and put it into my pocket. Industrial strength chemical cleaners and scorching hot water weren’t exactly jewelry friendly.

  I was about to turn on the radio and get down to cleaning business when my phone rang. I was more disappointed than relieved when I saw it wasn’t Cole’s number. His calls had stopped coming in that morning, and even though I hadn’t answered a single one, I missed them. For those few seconds, I knew Cole was thinking about me.

  “Hey, Dad,” I answered, carting the first batch of dishes back to the dishwasher.

  “Hi, sweetheart. How was the night?”

  “Crazy busy. Not an empty table all night.” Like the queen of multi-tasking I was, I propped the phone up on top of the dishwasher and started loading a tray of dirty dishes. I was eager to get out of there. I hadn’t had a night off yet that summer and I’d managed to convince dad to give me the whole weekend off. I didn’t have plans, but that was kind of my favorite way to spend a day or weekend off. If I didn’t have plans, I could do whatever I felt like when I woke up in the morning.

  “Those florentine crepes are a crowd pleaser, that’s for sure. Breakfast and lunch was hopping today, too,” he said, sounding more tired than normal. “I’m heading to bed early tonight, Elle, so would you just wake me up and let me know when you get home? I think I’m catching that summer bug going around.”

  “Yeah. Sure,” I said, trying to remember a time Dad hadn’t been waiting up for me when I’d come home from work. I couldn’t recall a time.

  “Oh, and about this weekend,”—I started to grimace, already anticipating what was coming—“with the big baseball games going on and all the hotels being booked, I’m sure I underestimated the number of wait staff we’ll need Saturday and Sunday night. I talked to Logan earlier and he said you two didn’t have any set plans, so you’d be able to work,” he continued as I felt my grimace work into a scowl. “I just wanted to let you know about the change in plans.”

  “Sounds like you and Logan have got it all worked out,” I said, purposefully sounding overly sweet because I knew if I let my tone convey how I felt right now, Dad would wonder if I’d been lobotomized.

  “Thanks so much, sweetheart,” he said, clueless to my emotions. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  After saying goodbye, the line went quiet. I stared at my phone for a few seconds, contemplating when I’d let Dad and Logan start mapping out my life. I knew it wasn’t done maliciously, but somewhere along the way, I’d handed them the reins.

  Cole was right. If I didn’t take control of my life, someone or someones would.

  Right now, that was all I could think about. The electives Logan had chosen for me in school when I’d hmm’d and haw’d, the Jeep dad had picked out for me when I couldn’t decide, the earl grey tea Logan ordered for me every time we went out to breakfast when I couldn’t decide on drip coffee or a cappuccino. The darn promise ring tucked into my pocket he’d went out and purchased the same day I told him I needed some time to think about our future.

  I’d become a backseat driver to my life years ago and I’d had enough. Dad’s and Logan’s intentions might have been good, but I was done with being steamrolled over at every turn.

  At least for tonight I was.

  The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. The anger was more self-directed than anything, but it was a powerful motivator. I had the diner clean in record time.

  After turning off the lights, I locked the place up. I was halfway across the parking lot before I noticed the old Land Cruiser beside my Jeep, complete with the smiling face I’d been thinking about all week.

  “Don’t you know a young woman shouldn’t walk into a dark parking lot alone at night?”

  I really wished I would have freshened up before rushing out of the diner tonight, but it was dark and Cole was far enough away maybe he wouldn’t smell the odd mix of tarragon and apple on my clothes. “Since crime doesn’t really happen here, unless you count a sketchy guy harassing a young woman in a parking lot, I think I’m going to live to see another day.”

  “Just because something’s never happened doesn’t mean it never will,” he said, watching me with that intentional look. That look that said he both had me totally figured out and barely figured out. “You want to be ready for it when it does.”

  Stopping a few feet in front of him, I kept my expression in check. It was hard. Especially with the way he looked tonight. Like sex, seduction, and sin had decided to get it on and Cole Carson was the result. His dark hair was still damp from what I guessed was the shower, but what I liked to imagine was another round of skinny dipping, and his skin had darkened a couple of shades in the summer heat, making his eyes almost glow. Worn jeans and a dark tee that hugged his chest and arms topped off the triple S lovechild.

  I told myself to breathe before replying.

  “Was some veiled, cryptic message in that warning?” Good. I sounded relatively unphased by the deity that was Cole Carson.

  “Sorry. Subtlety isn’t my strong suit. At least it isn’t anymore.”

  I tried to ignore the way his gaze wandered over me, almost so imperceptibly I could have imagined it.

  “What? You calling me every day and stalking me at work isn’t subtle?” I teased.

  “It’s hard to be subtle when the girl you want to be subtle with won’t take your calls.” He shoved off his Land Cruiser and took a step my way.

  Why hadn’t I at least redone my limp, flyaway ponytail?

  “So you used to be subtle,” I said, glancing around the parking lot. It was empty. “But not anymore. Not right now.”

  He nodded. “Yep. Used to be. But not right now. Not with you.”

  He took another step closer, causing me to take one back. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was more scared of him touching me or smelling me.

  “What are you doing tonight?” he asked, the low notes gone.

  “I worked the dinner shift and closed the restaurant tonight,” I replied, knowing it was some time after ten. Tonight was already over. At least if you were the good girl Elle Montgomery.

  “What are you doing right now?” he clarified, moving closer. Now I could smell him and yes, his damp hair was thanks to a shower.
He smelled like soap and shampoo. And some other s-word . . .

  “I’m going home.”

  “It’s a Friday night.”

  “It’s late on a Friday night,” I said, side-stepping my way to the Jeep.

  Cole reached out and grabbed my wrist. His fingers wound around it gently, heating the skin all the way through. “You’ve got a couple options here, Elle. I can either throw you over my shoulder and kidnap you, or I’ll follow you to your place and hang with you there, or you can stop pretending like you’re not dying to spend a couple hours with me and get in my car.” Cole’s expression was so darn confident I almost wanted to tell him to get lost.

  But I didn’t.

  I couldn’t.

  “I don’t have long,” I said, checking the time on my phone. “My dad will call an Amber Alert on me if I’m not home by midnight.”

  “You’re eighteen and officially out of school. Isn’t it about time your dad eased up a bit?”

  Of course it is, was my gut response, but if I gave him that one, Cole would turn that into one big carpe diem conversation I wasn’t in the mood for. I didn’t want to talk about life tonight. I didn’t want to think about it either. I wanted to live it.

  “I’m still his little girl,” I said with a shrug.

  “Daddy Montgomery sounds strict.”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe,” I replied.

  “Why?”

  That was a Pandora’s box I didn’t want to touch with a ten foot pole.

  “It’s his way of trying to keep me safe, I guess,” I said. “My mom died when I was four in a river kayaking accident, and I think he believes if he puts a short leash on me, he won’t have to worry about losing me like he lost her.”

  Cole didn’t even flinch at my words, but I did. I never spoke about my mom or the way she’d died. Why was I now?

  That was another Pandora’s box I didn’t want to be on the same planet as.

  “So he’s willing to risk your happiness to keep you safe? Or at least as safe as a person can pretend to keep another safe?”

  “He doesn’t know I’m not happy,” I said, trying not to let the sadness I felt show. He never asked if I was happy and I never told him I wasn’t. We both assumed what we wanted. “You’re kind of the only one I let in on that little secret.” I smiled sheepishly at Cole, feeling naked again.

  “Why?” Cole asked his favorite one word question again. “Why haven’t you told him you’re not happy?”

  “Because I don’t want to rock the boat,” I said, hoping he’d accept that tip of the iceberg answer and move on.

  “Elle,” he said, my name coming out of his mouth in a smooth caress, “you’d better start rocking that boat right now or else your life is going to pass you by before you even get started living it.”

  Those words hit me hard. Because they were true. And because they were what I’d been living in fear of for a while. My entire life passing me by while I offered conventional smiles and washed dishes at the sink.

  A car whizzed by us on the road in front of the diner. Shaking the dreary thoughts loose for the time being, I squared my shoulders and approached Cole.

  This time, when I looked into his eyes, I felt strength instead of the swoon I normally did. “I’m ready to rock that boat whenever you are.”

  “WHEN YOU SAID you were planning on taking me on a grand adventure, I didn’t exactly picture this,” I whispered as Cole led me down the dark hall.

  “You know what they say. Every great adventure begins and ends at a smokejumper camp,” he replied back in a hushed voice.

  I rolled my eyes. “Where is everybody?” I knew enough about the camp to know most of the smokejumpers lived, ate, and slept here, but I’d never actually been inside.

  “It’s a Friday night and it was a long winter,” Cole whispered, his eyes gleaming when he glanced back at me. “If they’re not on call, they’re either at a bar or a party looking for a pretty girl with loose morals and looser standards.”

  I made a face. It was the same story every year. “Then why are we whispering?” I asked, as we entered a large kitchen and dining area.

  Cole paused and turned to face me. “Because I like being able to make you whisper,” he said, examining my mouth like it was something he wanted to taste. “Even if it isn’t in the way I’d prefer to.”

  I might have been inexperienced and a prude-by-circumstance, but I didn’t need to have slept with someone to know that look on Cole’s face. The longer I looked at him, the more uncomfortable I became. The more uncomfortable I became, the more confident he became. When I was sure I was either going to slap him or kiss him, he spun around.

  “You want something to drink?” he asked as he pulled the fridge door open.

  From an intimacy that made me blush one moment to a casual question the next . . . I couldn’t keep up with him.

  Although I enjoyed the challenge.

  “What do you have?” I came up behind him and peered inside.

  Beer, beer, and beer. And an almost empty container of orange juice.

  “I’ll have some water,” I said as Cole shuffled through the bottles.

  “Yeah, me too.” Ending his search, he shut the fridge door and wandered over to the sink.

  “You can have a beer around me, you know. I’m not that straight-laced,” I said, watching Cole fill two plastic cups from the tap. Even performing something as everyday as filling a cup of water, he intrigued me.

  “I don’t really drink anymore.” Turning the water off, Cole handed me a glass.

  “Why not?” In addition to being intriguing, Cole had perfected the art of surprising me.

  “Because I’m that guy who doesn’t do moderation too well,” he said, chugging his entire glass of water. “The last time I had something to drink, the cops were en route when my buddies managed to wrestle me out of that bar.”

  “How long ago was that?” I asked and took a sip of my water.

  “Right before I became a smokejumper three summers ago.”

  “Why did you become a smokejumper?” I looked around the dark room. It wasn’t a glamorous life, nor did it pay all that well. It was dangerous, the hours were long at the height of fire season, and it made keeping a long-term relationship tough.

  With all of these supposed downsides to the job, I’d never met a single smokejumper who didn’t absolutely love his or her job. Cole was no exception.

  “My grandma raised me and a couple of my cousins,” he said. “My family was something of a dysfunctional mess, but Grandma took care of the responsibilities her daughters wouldn’t.” Cole had caught me, yet again, off guard. I hadn’t arrived at any conclusions about his past, but I hadn’t expected him to be so open about it over a glass of water in a dark kitchen. “My oldest cousin, Tommy, became a smokejumper a couple years out of high school. He loved the job and told me when and if I was ever ready for a change, I should give it a shot.”

  I scanned the room before scanning him. “Looks like you gave it a shot.”

  “I couldn’t get out of Bend fast enough once I finally figured out the life I’d been living there wasn’t the life I wanted. I was on the next bus out of town. Literally,” Cole said, leaning his hip into the counter. “Sound familiar? Small town born and raised teenager, trying and failing to accept their small town future?”

  When I didn’t give him the satisfaction of an agreement, he grinned. “You and I are more alike than you think, Elle Montgomery.”

  I was starting to realize that. And it scared me. But it excited me just as much.

  “So is cousin Tommy stationed here too?” I asked. I wouldn’t have known. The only interaction I’d ever had with the smokejumpers was taking their orders at the diner. I wasn’t an SJ groupie like some best friends I knew.

  Although the thoughts I had about Cole and the amount of time I’d spent with him might qualify me for that title.

  “Nah. He jumped out of Fairbanks.” His voice got quiet again.

&nb
sp; “Jumped as in he doesn’t jump anymore?” I might not have known a lot about smokejumping, but I did know the profession was hard on the body and the burn out rate was high.

  Cole gave one shake of his head.

  “Why not?”

  “He died,” he said, staring at the floor unseeingly. “He was killed in action.”

  “Gosh, Cole,” I said, automatically reaching for his hand. “I’m sorry.”

  He studied my hand in his, my fingers weaved through his, like they were an equation he was trying to solve. “Thanks, Elle.” His hand tightened around mine. “Tommy was one hell of a guy and like a big brother to me, but he went out with his boots on. It was a good way to go.”

  My brows came together. “How was it a good way to go? He couldn’t have been very old. Twenty-five? Thirty?”

  The words were out before I could stop them. This was fast becoming my habit around Cole. I’d always been more of a think-before-you-speak person, but I was the opposite with him. I was all impulse and instinct around Cole, and I wasn’t sure if this was a good thing.

  “Tommy was twenty-three when he died,” Cole said, not letting my hand go or even looking offended. “And it was a good way to go because one day, Elle, we’re all going to die. We might not be able to change the day or the time, but we can at least control which way we get to leave this world. Tommy left it with a bang. He lived it with a bang.” Cole was watching me in that way again, like he saw right through me. “It was a good way to go.”

  I tried not to think of my mom and the way she’d died. Would she feel the same way? That it was a good way to go? I know I certainly didn’t feel that way.

  “But he was so young. He had so much life ahead of him.” I wasn’t sure I was talking about Tommy anymore.

  “I know for a fact that if Tommy had the choice between a short life that he got to live every day to its fullest or a long life of average, he’d choose the short life hands down.”

  “Huh,” I said to myself, giving this some thought. I loved how Cole was confident and sure. How he was perfectly fine with living his life on a day to day basis. I loved that about him, but I was nothing like it. I lived by rules and made my decisions based on decades down the road.