Scorched

by Lee, M. A.

  “It’s one of my favorites,” I admit.

  “So, why haven’t you been responding to my emails?” he asks.

  I sit there for a moment, unsure of how to respond. I could lie, but something tells me with his experience as a SEAL, he would be able to read right through me.

  “I can see that you are trying to divert me from the truth. I have been trained to hunt a liar,” he says, his tone low.

  Damn, that voice could do naughty things to me.

  “Fine, I can tell you won’t stop until you know the truth so here it is. I haven’t responded because honestly, I don’t know what to say. You are very sweet and I enjoy our email exchanges, but they can’t lead to anything else,” I say, my eyes locking on his. I need him to know that I am serious. “This can only be about business, about the article.”

  He chuckles and shakes his head. He takes his time cleaning up his lunch and even gets off the bench, throwing away both of the trash we had from lunch. When he returns to the bench, he rubs his hands on his dark jeans.

  “Alright, I appreciate your honesty. But, I can’t leave here without knowing why you are so against going on a date with me,” he says. “And don’t feed me the line about work.”

  My heart flutters a bit and I try to ignore the feeling. “If I tell you the truth, you will look at me differently and I don’t want that. Can’t you just accept that I am flattered, but not interested?” I ask.

  “No way. Everyone is interested in me,” he kids, his smile lighting up his entire face.

  “Wow, cocky much?” I laugh. “Fine, you really are persistent aren’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t have advanced in my career if I wasn’t. Now, just tell me why you won’t go out with me and I will leave you alone,” he says. “A real reason.”

  Something tells me he isn’t telling the truth now, but for some reason that I can’t explain, I begin talking. “A few years ago, I was engaged to a wonderful man named Wade. We were really happy, but he died in a fire. He was a firefighter. Ever since then, I just don’t feel right dating anymore.”

  The words come out of me so fast, I barely have time to breathe. I can’t remember the last time that I said those words aloud. It was refreshing but also drew more painful memories that I wanted to keep tucked away.

  Ryder listened carefully and unlike most people, he didn’t get me that, ‘oh poor you’ look I was accustomed to seeing when I talked about Wade. Something about how he just listened was comforting.

  “I’m sure Wade was a great guy. But, if you don’t mind me asking again, don’t you think he would want you to be happy?”

  It was the million-dollar question that I had been asked probably a million times. Sighing, I say, “Maybe. Probably. But, I just can’t let go, yet. It feels wrong to think of myself with someone else,” I admit.

  I almost gasp at my own honesty. What is it about Ryder that makes me so vulnerable?

  “I can understand how difficult it is to lose someone. I’ve lost plenty of people in my life that I loved dearly. But at the end of the day, the people we loved the most would want us to continue living. What if I make you a deal?” he asks, his eyes searching mine like he is trying to read my soul.

  “Why do I feel like this deal works more in your favor?” I ask, trying to ease some of the seriousness of the conversation.

  “Because it does,” he admits, chuckling. I find myself drawn to the deep vibration of his laugh. It is mainly, but sweet altogether. “How about you and I just go out as friends? I’m sure you need friends and it would give me something to do that doesn’t include the rowdy guys I work with,” he says.

  I think over this for a minute. I mean, if he is fine with just being friends, I don’t see any harm in his proposal. However, is this something I think we can both do?

  “Come on, I see that you want to say yes,” he goads, nudging me playfully with his shoulder.

  I want to say no. I want to get up and run away from this man who has me feeling things I haven’t felt in years. I want to do so many things, but instead, I do the last thing I expected. I say yes.

  “Ok, I will go out with you. Only as friends,” I say, making sure I emphasize friends clearly.

  Ryder claps his hands together and beams at me. “Great. I will email you a date and time, along with my number. We are in the twenty-first century, you know. Most people connect on their iPhones,” he laughs.

  “I am already regretting this,” I say, rolling my eyes as I suppress my own laughter.

  We exchange goodbyes and as I walk back to work, I can’t help but notice the smile that hasn’t diminished from my face. My cheeks hurt from smiling because if I am being honest, this was the most I had smiled in months-- possibly years.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When faced with danger, most people try to build up their defenses. It becomes more of a coping mechanism than anything else. Over the years, I had learned that when people started messing with the crime, their walls were not hard to see.

  I take this mentality with me as I begin my first day at the ports. Dressed in black security detail clothes, I make sure to appear as a civilian worker and not someone on the hunt for a rat. However, I will be setting my traps very soon, I just need to uncover everyone’s vices.

  “Are you ready?” Matt asks, as we walk through the large shipping yard.

  Our task was simple: we were to patrol the area and make sure no one who wasn’t permitted to be in the gated area, stayed away. Our orders from Cole Security Forces were to pay careful attention to the workers to help unload the ships and who checked the products as they were loaded onto each vessel.

  “I’m always ready,” I say, taking my flashlight and shining it near a shadowed area.

  This place was poorly lit and could lead to some serious trouble if they didn’t take care of that. Anyone could hide among the large crates that were stacked in rows. I made a mental note to talk to my new ‘boss’ about that soon. My only reprieve is the slight breeze floating in off the ocean.

  We continue patrolling and I see a large barge making its way into the port. A couple of guys who I met during orientation begin heading over to the dock. I can hear them laughing and chatting, but I am unable to make out what they are saying.

  “We’ve got a shipment coming in,” I say to Matt.

  He nods as he shifts his belt. Unlike the rest of the guys around here, we also are armed and have body cameras on us. We both activate our camera just in case something goes down, we will get it all recorded.

  The group of men begins unloading several crates that they place on a trailer that will move the products to another shipping container. Nothing seems out of the ordinary as they work together. Matt and I keep moving, not wanting to get caught watching them. The last thing we need is for someone to suspect we aren’t just new security details.

  Suddenly, one of the men, an older guy with a thick beard and bald head, lifts open the top of one of the crates. I see him inspecting the contents while the rest of the guys unload. He looks inside, shakes his head, and then tosses the crate with the rest.

  I can’t be sure, but his actions seemed a little strange. Why would he be shaking his head no, like he didn’t find what he was looking for?

  I whisper my thoughts to Matt, who also watched the moment. We decide to share that with the team tomorrow. For now, we continue patrolling, and thankfully, for the rest of the night, we don’t see anything else suspicious.

  * * *

  Early the next morning, I am woken by another horrific nightmare. It’s always the same.

  Realizing I will never be able to go back to sleep, I check my email on my phone. A smile spreads across my face as I see Meghan’s name in my inbox.

  Ryder,

  I know that you sent me your phone number in our last exchange, but I have enjoyed sending these emails. Maybe this will be the last one. Anyway, I think dinner by the beach sounds like a fun outing for FRIENDS. I will see you Saturday evening at 7.

&
nbsp; All my best,

  Meghan

  I quickly type out a reply and chuckle to myself. Meghan might think that she can be around me and not find herself falling for my charms, but I think we both know that it will only be a matter of time before I make her mine.

  Chapter Fourteen

  An alarm is going off somewhere in the distance. I stop walking and my body instantly freezes. A large, red fire truck zooms past me and I can feel my legs beginning to shake, threatening to give out on me at any second.

  “Miss, are you alright?” a voice asks me.

  I shake my head, trying to clear the fear and worry away so I don’t look crazy right now.

  I turn my head and see an old woman staring at me with concern in her eyes.

  I try to muster a smile, but I am sure it makes me look deranged. “Yes, sorry. The engine just startled me,” I say.

  She nods, gives me a strange once over, and then continues on her way down the sidewalk. I hate that my body instantly freezes at the sound of the wails of a firetruck. Ever since Wade died, I can’t stand to hear that sound. And, living in a big city, I hear them all of the time.

  I continue walking down the sidewalk on my way home from work. My afternoon surprise lunch with Ryder had been a nice change to my day, but now, I was worried that the fire truck was a sign that I shouldn’t entertain Ryder with a date this weekend.

  I mean, I know it’s not technically a date, but still.

  I’m still lost in my own head when I walk into my apartment. Kirsten and Stacey are already home and have the music blasting as they cook in the kitchen. The delicious scent of garlic and marina floats through the living room and I know they are busy preparing their famous lasagna.

  I greet them in the kitchen as they dance around. I remember a time when I used to dance and sing with no cares in the world. I feel my heartbreak a little as I think back to a time when I wasn’t living with a broken heart.

  “Hey,” I yell over the music.

  They both turn and smile as they continue singing. I laugh at their silly behavior and then head to my room to change out of my work clothes.

  An hour later, we are sitting down in the living room with hearty plates of the warm lasagna and glasses of wine. The television is tuned in to one of our favorite reality shows.

  When a commercial appears, Kirsten turns down the volume and they both turn and stare at me.

  “What?” I ask, as I take a sip of my sweet, white wine.

  “So, I heard about your little afternoon date,” Kirsten says, her eyes flashing with excitement.

  Sighing, I drop my head. “It wasn’t a date,” I argue.

  Stacey laughs and lays her plate on the coffee table. “From what Kirsten said, you had a handsome gentleman waiting for you outside of your work today,” she says.

  “What, do you all have spies following me?” I ask. Even though my tone is sharp, they know I am not mad. Annoyed, but not mad.

  “No, I just have a window facing the street,” Kirsten giggles. “So, spill the details,” she firmly states.

  I know I could try to get out of this, but there is no way either of them are going to let me escape. “Fine,” I begin. They both sit up straight with goofy grins plastered on their faces. “Ryder has been emailing me to the point of harassment. I stopped replying and he decided to wait for me to go on my lunch break. We ordered tacos from that truck that parks down the street. Anyway, we ate lunch together and talked. He’s a really nice guy,” I say, trying to keep my tone even.

  As I talk about Ryder, I feel my pulse quicken and my heart leaps in my chest. I hate my body for defying my mind, but I just can’t help how he makes me feel. But, I can control how I react on the outside.

  “When are you going on another date?” Stacey asks.

  “We are going to have dinner as friends this weekend. It’s not a date,” I clarify.

  “Sure, it’s not,” Kirsten giggles.

  “I’m serious,” I argue, throwing a small decorative pillow from the couch at Kirsten. “We can’t mix business and pleasure together.”

  She dodges the attack and sits up, laughing. “Ryder has it bad for you, Meghan. You should totally jump on that hunk of a man,” she says, wiggling her brows at me.

  “He barely knows me,” I say, trying to hide a smile that threatens to give me away.

  “I wish you would just let yourself live again,” Stacey adds in, her tone now serious.

  “I am,” I say, but I don’t add more. We all know that I am fibbing.

  “No, you are getting by,” Kirsten pipes in. “Wade would want you to be happy. Aren’t you tired of people telling you that? I get that you might not be ready to date again, but who said you can’t go out and just have some harmless fun? Sleep with him. Go on dates. Have fun. Just live,” she finishes.

  For the first time in forever, I truly consider the advice someone is giving me. Yes, falling in love again isn’t something I am willing to entertain, but it might be nice to just let loose and have some wild fun. I hadn’t been touched by a man in so long, just the thought of it had my body tingling with need.

  “Maybe. I will think about it,” I say to them.

  That seems to satisfy them for the moment. Thankfully, they don’t notice that during the rest of our show, all I can think about is what it would be like to be under Ryder.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I barely know Meghan, but she is already driving me wild. When I first arrived in California, I never thought I would focus on anything other than my work. It has been my one and only love for as long as I can remember, but now there is something else taking up residence in my mind. At first, moving to a new city sounded awful, but it slowly worked its way into my heart. I enjoy the business aspects, but I’m close to the water with beaches nearby.

  I need to get away for a few minutes, to collect my thoughts. I head to the beach, a place where I can break free from the cruel atmosphere of our world. The longer it takes me to walk down the block toward the ocean, the more my mind wanders. At times, when I am alone, I can still hear the bullets spraying toward me and my men while in combat. Other times, I can sense the pain of those around me. Like, Meghan. When she is near me, all I can see is the pain she bears but won’t speak of. I know that pain, because I’ve been there before.

  Once my feet hit the sand and the rhythmic sounds of the waves crashing along the shore reach my ears, I feel a sense of calm I had been longing for. I can’t tell the guys how I’m feeling, they will never let me hear the end of it.

  Sure, most of the guys have married and had kids, but they don’t really talk about their feelings. We are tough guys. But, sometimes, I just wish I could tell someone other than myself, how I feel.

  I don’t know where she’s going or where her mind is, but all I want to do is join her. Ask her if she had room for one troubled soul like hers. It sounds crazy, but when I set my sights on something, I never give up. Maybe that’s why I was always so good at my job. I can hunt down a killer or an enemy with precision and incredible accuracy.

  Right now, Meghan is all I see.

  I finally reach the beach and I find a bench nearby. The only bad things about the beaches around the city are that they aren’t like beaches you would normally find in Virginia, the Carolinas, or Florida. But still, I get to see the water so for now, I am happy.

  Sighing, I shake my head as I stare out at the open water. I dig my phone out of my pocket and stare at it for a few minutes. Shaking my head, I chastise myself for being so juvenile. I want to call her and hear her voice. Hell, I’ll even take reading her emails, just as long as I am in contact with her.

  I think about the last time we talked only a few days ago when she agreed to go out with me this upcoming weekend. Saturday can’t come soon enough. At work today, I had put on my mask and been in complete hunter mode. Now, though, I wanted to relax and talk to a beautiful woman.

  Realizing I wasn’t going to win the battle going on in my mind, I opened my text mess
ages and quickly texted Meghan.

  Me: Hey, I thought we could try a new type of communication.

  I waited until those three little magical dots appeared. She was typing a response and I was dying with anticipation.

  Meghan: Hi. What was so wrong with emails? It’s becoming a lost art.

  I couldn’t help but chuckle at her response.

  Me: Lost art, huh? Well, then you would enjoy my job. All I do is read emails some days. Anyway, do you have any ideas for our FRIENDS outing on Saturday?

  I sat back and stared at my message. That should get her talking, but still, keep it friendly as she requested. I just hope she doesn’t expect us to hold onto this friend’s pack. I have ideas that are way outside of a friendzone.

  Meghan: Do you like Italian food? There is a cute little Italian restaurant not far from my apartment.

  Me: Sounds perfect. Send me the address.

  Meghan: I will. I hope you had a good day today.

  I smiled at that. Maybe Meghan cared more than she wanted to let on.

  Me: It was alright. Couldn’t stop thinking about a beautiful woman all day.

  Meghan: Wow, maybe I can meet her!

  This made me laugh out loud. She was witty, but we both know who I was referring to.

  Me: Oh you will, how’s Saturday?

  Meghan: See you soon, friend!

  I could tell the conversation had come to an end, but I still had a large grin on my face. Meghan wouldn’t be able to fight me for long. Soon enough, I would prove to her I was unlike other guys and if she let me, I could scorch the burning fears she had of love and loss. Because one thing was for certain, I didn’t plan on going anywhere.