Melt With You (Fire and Icing)

by Evans, Jessie

  “That’s right,” she said when he’d joined her in the car. “I am getting old, so you’d better let me get to sleep before midnight tonight, instead of keeping me up for hours with all that kissy-kissy stuff.”

  Jake cast her a look so intense it made her shiver. “Then we’ll have to leave the hayride early. Because I’m not of the mind to skimp on the kissy-kissy stuff.”

  Naomi took a shaky breath. “How can you sound so sexy saying things like ‘kissy-kissy?’”

  Jake grinned wickedly before murmuring in his most gravelly voice, “Skill, babe. Skill and practice.”

  “Oh, stop it,” Naomi said, buckling her seatbelt. “I never should have told you that voice made me horny.”

  “What voice?” Jake asked in that same nipple-tightening tone, temptation glittering in his eyes.

  “Okay, fine,” she breathed, things low in her body fisting with longing. “Home for fifteen minutes, but then straight to the hayride. I paid for four dates, dang it, and I mean to have them all.”

  “And I mean to have all of you,” Jake said, pulling out of the bakery parking lot before Naomi’s pulse could recover from that pronouncement.

  Ten minutes later they were naked in Jake’s bed, and not long after that, Naomi was crying out his name. Even when it came to a quickie, Jake was never one to cheat his partner. He brought her over the edge twice before they jumped into the shower. By the time they arrived at the hayride, Naomi was so relaxed and satisfied and just plain blissed-out that not even Jamison’s hard look from the other side of the bonfire could make her anxious.

  Jamison would come around. Once he realized how happy she and Jake were, he would let the past fade into his subconscious the way she had.

  The past was the past; Naomi and Jake were the future, a future as bright and welcome as the first rays of sunlight after a long, mid-winter’s night.

  Naomi was so content, and so certain that she and Jake were meant to be, that she forgot that the past has long arms, arms that can reach out of the shadows when you least expect it and pull you back into the dark.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jake opened the door for Naomi and Faith, letting them pass before him into the gaily decorated ballroom of the historic home playing host to the Fireman’s Ball.

  Mitzy and her decorating committee had really outdone themselves. Boughs of holly draped the walls, gas lanterns flickered on the tables at the edges of the room, and bundles of mistletoe tied with red and gold bows hung from the ceiling, ready to catch couples unaware and give them an excuse to kiss in public.

  Not that Jake needed one…

  As he helped Naomi out of her coat, he pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, secure in the knowledge he had the most beautiful date at the dance. In her floor-length, black sleeveless gown, Naomi looked like she should be at an opera premiere in New York City, not a Fireman’s Ball in Summerville, Georgia, but he was glad that she was on his arm. Very glad, indeed.

  Naomi turned to him and smiled her warmest smile, the one that left no doubt in Jake’s mind that he was loved, treasured by a woman who adored him for exactly who he was—nothing more, nothing less. The smile sent a fresh wave of gratitude rushing through him. He was so grateful for Naomi, for the love they’d rediscovered, and for the gift of the next six days.

  He had taken vacation for the first time in two years. Starting tomorrow, he and Naomi had plans to do nothing but cook, eat, watch old movies, play chess on the set Jake had made, and make love, breaking only to have Christmas Dinner with her family before returning to his place for more of the same. It sounded like the best holiday ever, and Jake couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so completely content, so filled with anticipation or so very aware of his many blessings.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay with us?” Naomi asked Faith, squeezing the younger woman’s hand with an affection that made Jake love her a little more. “We don’t mind.”

  Faith was Jake’s people, and so she had immediately become Naomi’s people, too. Naomi had embraced Faith with warmth and generosity that left no doubt in Jake’s mind that Naomi was going to be an amazing mother. He couldn’t wait to see her holding her son or daughter. He couldn’t wait to sign his name on the dotted line beside hers, committing himself to being the father of their child. He and Naomi hadn’t talked about adopting together yet, but hopefully, after tonight, it would be a no-brainer.

  The ring Jake had picked up from the jewelry store on Main Street this afternoon was burning a hole in his pocket, but he wanted to wait for the perfect moment. He wanted this proposal to be something neither he, nor Naomi, would ever forget.

  “Jake can take turns dancing with both of us,” Naomi continued, as Faith cast an anxious look around the ballroom. “I don’t mind standing on the sidelines because that’s where the cookies are, and I am all about cookies until January first when I may or may not think about considering dieting in a low-key, half-assed sort of way.”

  Faith laughed and tugged nervously at her skirt. In a floor-length, cream-colored dress with a gold belt, Faith looked stunning, but Jake could tell she didn’t feel it. The fact her date was a Neanderthal who had done his best to make Faith feel like an ugly duckling probably didn’t help any. Jake doubted Neil had intentionally meant to shake Faith’s confidence, but Jake still wanted to pound the kid. And although he respected Faith for sticking it out and showing up for her last two dates, part of him wished she’d taken Jamison’s advice and told Neil to go to hell and rot there.

  “No, I’m good,” Faith said. “I’m going to find my loser, eat some cookies, dance three dances, and get the hell out of here as soon as they announce how much money we’ve made.”

  “Is Jamison still going to give you a ride home?” Jake asked.

  Faith nodded. “Yeah. He wants to cut out early, too. He said he figures his date and her soon-to-be-not-ex-boyfriend will be making out under the mistletoe by eight o’clock anyway. Her plan to make her ex jealous seems to have worked out. Poor Jamison isn’t going to get any action, and he’s pretty cranky about it.”

  That’s not the only thing he’s cranky about, Jake thought, but didn’t say aloud. He wasn’t in the mood to discuss his brother’s sour disposition.

  Tonight was a night for good things, wonderful things. Jake couldn’t imagine anything better than hearing Naomi say she would be his wife and had his fingers crossed that by the end of the evening the ring in his pocket would be sitting pretty on her left hand.

  “I’m not nearly as cranky as he is,” Faith continued. “But I may have to break my punch glass over Neil’s head if we haven’t raised enough money for a new firehouse.”

  “You’ve raised enough,” Naomi said, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “I know Mitzy from school. She gave me the scoop last week at the hayride. Everything’s on track, and they already have a builder contracted. They’re planning to break ground at the new location in the spring.”

  “Praise Jesus,” Faith said with a grin before shooting Jake a thumbs-up he knew was about more than the new firehouse.

  Faith had spotted the bag from the jewelry store on his desk at work today and put two and two together to make a marriage proposal. She was the only one who knew Jake intended to pop the question tonight, which was a good thing. If too many other people were rooting for him, Jake would be more nervous than he was already.

  “All right, wish me luck,” Faith said, diving into the crowd.

  “Good luck, and don’t take any crap,” Jake called after her, watching Faith make her way through the throngs of people already filling the room.

  The dancing hadn’t started yet, but the room already felt packed. He certainly wouldn’t have any trouble finding an excuse to whisk Naomi outside for a breather—and an opportunity for him to bend down on one knee.

  “Of course there is one big downside to the new firehouse going ahead, you know,” Naomi said, turning back to him, slipping her arm around his waist with a familiarity that fe
lt just right.

  “We won’t work across the street from each other anymore.”

  “Exactly,” Naomi said with a sigh. “But I guess we’ll get more work done, be less distracted, and dumb stuff like that.”

  Jake chuckled. “You don’t sound very enthusiastic about getting work done.”

  “Work is overrated.” She tipped her head back, smiling up at him. “I’d rather spend my time lurking by the window, hoping for a glance of the studly firefighter across the street.”

  “The studly firefighter across the street likes that part, too,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to Naomi’s lips, earning himself a coat of lip gloss in the process.

  As they parted, Naomi looked up at him and giggled. “When I saw you in this tux, I was sure you couldn’t get any sexier, but you look good in lip gloss. It brings out the sparkly bits in your eyes.”

  Jake grunted. “Then maybe I’ll leave it on. I was going to go grab some cookies and napkins while you checked the coats, but—”

  “No! Go! Grab napkins and cookies.” Naomi snatched the coats he had draped over his arm and draped them over her own. “Grab as many of Maddie’s caramel ones as you can without looking tacky before everyone else snatches them up. I’m serious about eating all the cookies until January.”

  “Good,” Jake said. “And I don’t think you should go on a diet. You look perfect the way you are.”

  Naomi shot him a mock glare. “Is dating you going to be bad for my waistline?”

  “No way,” Jake said, leaning down to kiss her forehead before adding, “Because we’ll be working off those calories in the bedroom every chance we get.”

  “Go get cookies,” Naomi said, giving his bicep a squeeze. “Before I drag you out to the truck and have my way with you.”

  Jake grinned. “I’m okay with being dragged out to the truck.”

  Naomi laughed as she put a hand to his chest and pushed him gently away. “No way. It’s freezing out there. Go get cookies. I’ll meet you by the fireplace in ten.”

  Jake winked and turned to go, threading his way through the crowd, managing to stop only twice—once for a hug from Mrs. Keller, his kindergarten teacher, and once to shoot Neil Simpson a hard look as he presented a cranky-looking Faith with a glass of mulled cider. Still, by the time he reached the refreshment table, all of Maddie’s cookies were gone.

  “Well, shit,” Jake mumbled, taking a glance at the remaining plates, wondering what Naomi would like best instead.

  He was about to go for a few round cookies coated in powdered sugar with a placard that proclaimed them to be filled with almonds and orange liqueur—two things he knew Naomi loved—when Jamison appeared next to him, his increasingly familiar scowl firmly in place.

  Jamison didn’t seem to be getting used to the idea of Jake and Naomi. If anything, he was becoming increasingly disapproving.

  “I just talked to Faith,” Jamison said, propping his hands on his hips, looking ready for combat, even in a tux.

  “Is she okay?” Jake glanced back to where he’d seen Faith last, but couldn’t find her in the crowd. “Do we need to go intervene with that Simpson kid?”

  “No, I need to intervene. With you.” Jamison shrugged his arms and adjusted his tux coat, which looked to be a size too small, making Jake grateful Naomi had been with him when he picked out his jacket and encouraged him to go up a size.

  “Faith told me what you’re planning to do tonight,” Jamison continued. “That you’re going to propose to Naomi.”

  Jake nodded and fought the wave of irritation triggered by Jamison’s tone. To hear his brother talk, you’d think Jake was planning to fill his well with strychnine and invite a bunch of orphans over for lemonade.

  “We have to talk first,” Jamison said, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “I’ve been putting it off because I didn’t want to face it, and I didn’t want to piss you off, but… This has to happen. Now.”

  “All right,” Jake said, forgetting the cookies and napkins. “Let’s step outside.”

  Jamison nodded before leading the way to a side door not far from the refreshment table. Jake cast one look over his shoulder—spotting Naomi still in line for the coat check, in deep conversation with Aria March—before following Jamison out into the brisk winter air, ignoring the anxious feeling tickling the back of his neck.

  No matter what Jamison wanted to talk about, it wasn’t going to change anything. Jake was in love, he was going to ask the woman he loved to marry him tonight, and he was going to start really living for the first time in years.

  But as Jamison turned to face him with a miserable expression unlike anything Jake had ever seen on his brother’s face, uncertainty drifted through Jake, as cold as winter air seeping through a coat riddled with holes.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Faith watched Jamison and Jake step outside with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

  Great. Just when she needed a little brotherly support, her surrogate siblings decided to take a walk. Why they were going outside when it was barely above freezing Faith had no idea—they didn’t smoke and it wasn’t that loud in the ballroom yet—but it was just her luck lately.

  “Are you sure you want another cookie?” Neil asked, glancing dubiously at her midsection, making Faith see red as bright as his cheesy bow tie.

  Faith had rock hard abs, had run seven miles that morning, and more than earned a couple of cookies. But even if she hadn’t, it wasn’t Neil’s place to police her food intake. Her body was hers, and she didn’t appreciate Neil or any other man thinking he had the right to tell her what to do with it. Even Jamison got on her nerves when he teased her about having chip belly, and she knew he was totally kidding. But she was sensitive when it came to stuff like that. She’d grown up watching her mom give men power over every aspect of her life—tying herself in knots to please the man of the moment—and Faith refused to follow in her mother’s footsteps.

  She was her own person, and she liked that person. She was happier alone than her mother had ever been with her string of losers, and Faith’s dates with Neil had only solidified her intentions to stay that way. Alone. Happy. And safe from the kind of blood-pressure-spiking antics of guys who thought it was okay to tell you your triceps were “too big for a girl’s” when your job necessitated upper body strength to save lives.

  Saving lives, blockhead—because there are more important things than being weak and fragile so that insecure jerks like you won’t feel threatened.

  “I mean, that cider probably had two hundred calories,” Neil continued, oblivious to that fact that Faith’s hands were curling into fists at her sides. “You don’t want to carb load on top of that.”

  What she wanted was to aim one of her fists at Neil’s eye and see if she could blacken it in one blow; instead she forced a smile and said, “It’s a special occasion. I think the food police should take a night off.” Faith pointed a finger at the refreshment table. “I want one of the chocolate chip ones with walnuts.”

  “But I’m allergic to walnuts,” Neil said.

  “Then it’s a good thing you won’t be the one eating the cookie, isn’t it?” Faith asked in a syrupy voice, pushing on before Neil could offer any more of his irritating opinions. “I’m going to run out to the car and get my purse. Be back in a few.”

  Faith aimed herself at the door Jamison and Jake had exited a few minutes before. She hadn’t brought a purse—purses were a pain in the ass, and she only carried one when she absolutely had to—but she figured that was as good an alibi as any to explain her disappearance while she went hunting for the boys.

  She needed out of here—ASAP.

  She was never going to make it through a single dance with Neil, let alone the three she’d promised herself she would. Nine hundred dollars on the line or not, she couldn’t stomach another night in that dip-wad’s company. If he wanted to complain and his gram wanted to demand a refund, then they could go right ahead and do it. Faith was stick-a-fork-in-her-a
nd-call-her-ready-for-Christmas-dinner done.

  With any luck, Jamison would be feeling the same way, and she could sweet talk him into leaving now. If all went well, she’d be back at her apartment in her flannel pajamas, with her cat, Captain Snugglepants, cuddled in her lap before the clock struck eight.

  Faith emerged into the frigid air and immediately crossed her arms, huddling against the cold, cursing women’s fashion. The guys got cozy tuxedo jackets; the women got sleeveless gowns. It was ridiculous, and yet another item on Faith’s long list of “Reasons it Would Suck Less to Be a Dude”

  “Jamison? Jake?”” she called out, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness before picking her way along the paving stones to the single gaslight burning at the center of the garden. She kept going past the pool of warm yellow light to an arbor covered with dormant grape vines curling up its sides, but there was still no sign of the Hansen brothers.

  “Shit,” Faith muttered, shivering under the arbor. It blocked the wind, but it was still freezing out here. She couldn’t stay outside for long.

  The boys must have decided on a longer walk, or circled back around to the front door to rejoin the festivities. Either way, she’d missed them, and now she was going to have to go back inside and make nice with Neil for another ten or twenty minutes.

  Rationally, Faith knew that wasn’t long, but the irrational, Neil-chafed part of her rebelled at the thought of another second in Mr. Simpson’s company.

  And so she was still shivering under the arbor, torn between longing for the comforting warmth of the ballroom, and gratitude for the comforting lack of Neil out in the cold, when a decidedly masculine shadow emerged from the ballroom to step out onto the garden path.

  Faith knew immediately that the man wasn’t Neil—the shadow had broad shoulders, but a clearly defined neck, whereas Neil looked like his fat head had been fused directly onto his body. The shadow also had narrow hips, long, strong-looking legs, and a hint of a swagger. Neil didn’t swagger. Neil waddled like a cranky bulldog. This man walked like a professional athlete, someone with such confidence in his body’s ability to perform that he glided through life, oozing sex and high self-esteem.