Then I remembered his words. My choice.
I'd made a deal with the devil. He was a talented sexy one, but a devil all the same.
I'd never been kissed like that. Not by anyone, and that included Jason. I'd been kissed often by him, but my memory of it felt like the sweet kisses of two young people unsure of themselves.
That wasn’t this kiss. Owen’s kiss felt predatory, dominant and so very dirty. I should have kept dirty talk on the table and said no to the kissing. If he was allowed to steal kisses when he thought he wanted to, then I was in over my head.
It was good. Really, really good. What I wasn’t prepared for was my system shock when he did it. My brain had shut off, and the only thing I could think about was his smell and the feeling of lightning bolts shooting down my body as his tongue invaded my mouth.
We'd left the shop after about an hour. He went in his direction, and I'd gone in mine. No other kisses, and no other overt flirtations on his part had occurred. Other than his shirt being off, and him walking by me several times on purpose, he had behaved.
I was pretty sure that the expanse of his large chest and nipple piercings would be burned in my memory for a long time.
Nipple piercings. I was still wrapping my head around that one.
He'd come by the shop twice a day since then. Every day to bring me lunch, then in the evenings to help me close the shop. During lunch, we would talk a little, but he never overstayed his welcome. At night he would walk me to my car, stealing a kiss every time.
Then there were the little gifts sent to the shop. A small basket of fruit the first day, that I shared with Rachel. The next day a small box of cookies, that I again shared with Rachel.
The third gift was a little more personal. A thin silver ring with interlinking flowers. It was made the same jeweler we had visited according to the packaging, and I nearly sent it back to Lenny. But Rachel had gone into mush-mode on me and I'd been wearing it for the past twenty-four hours. I could have taken it off at home, but the side of my brain that was all woman, and clearly not thinking rationally, loved the little ring.
I had very little experience with men, but the differences between Jason and Owen were starting to become very clear.
Jason hadn’t done the gift thing. Although, we had exchanged gifts on holidays, it wasn’t like him to send things to the shop or house. We went out, we had fun, and we enjoyed each other’s company.
It had me wondering whether Owen’s obvious approach was normal for an adult male in the dating scene.
Jason and I had dated for two years and we hadn’t had sex. Mainly because I'd still been living with my father at the time, and there were very few times that we were ever alone with half the department watching us.
But I was beginning to wonder if it wasn’t something else. There were times when I wished we’d had sex, but it seemed like such a small thing now that he was gone. There were so many other experiences I'd wanted with him that the sex issue didn’t really register. Jason had been an attractive man. But I'd never felt the same sort of pull sexually that I was feeling with Owen.
My recent nightly dreams were a whole other story. I wasn’t stupid, I knew how everything worked. Just didn’t have the personal experience and hadn’t really thought about it day to day.
Why I kept dreaming about a certain irritating stranger was beyond me.
And that brought me to the reason why I was sitting in front of my dad’s house, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel.
“Just go in and ask him what he thinks. No, ask him why—fuck. Ask him if he’s ever thought about someone other than mom. Gawd, no. Okay, just do damage control. He’s going to hear about it. Tell him it’s all Owen’s fault. That’ll work.”
I climbed out of my car, and up the steps to the house. I knocked on the door and swung it open as I called out to my dad.
“In here, sweetie!” I heard from the kitchen.
I smelled the odor of charcoal wafting through the house and saw a little bit of haze hanging in the air. It was surprising the fire alarms hadn’t gone off yet.
“Dad, you might want to shut the back door,” I said while I grabbed a towel to swing around in the air, trying to dispel some of the smoke.
“It’s not a cookout unless the alarms go off in this house.”
I shut his back door and noticed the grill was full of smoking charcoal. The fire was nearly out on them and almost ready for food.
He was leaning over the counter putting the finishing touches on what looked like marinated ribs. He also had several chicken pieces that he'd laid out in a pan.
“Cookout?” I asked.
“Yeah, Thursday night football. Thought Owen might be interested in watching the game and having some good old barbeque.”
My eyebrows arched. “With the secret Crawford family recipe?”
He smiled at me and chuckled. “Yep. I’m not so sure it’s anything that official, but that’s what I’m making.”
“Dad, you haven’t even told Rachel and me the recipe.”
“I haven’t? Hmm, I’ll have to write it down for you gals,” he said as he leaned over, and brushed a huge portion of the sauce on a section of ribs.
“You always say that, and we still don’t have it.”
He shrugged. “Let an old man have his secrets.”
I sat down at the kitchen table behind him wondering how to start this conversation again.
“Speaking of which, did you ever meet anyone after mom died? I mean, did you date at one point, because I don’t remember that happening.”
He turned around and gave me a surprised look.
“Uhm, not that it’s any of my business,” I said hurriedly. “I was just wondering. Forget it.”
He washed his hands off in the sink and used one of his red towels to dry them. He had a pensive look on his face, like he was wondering what to say.
“Does this have anything to do with the deal we made?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Does this have anything to do with a particular man that was kissing you in the middle of Lola’s diner this week?”
I groaned. No one could keep anything to themselves in this city. Especially not those damn firemen. I made a mental note not to give them any of my annual cookies at Christmas. Station Eight was on Maddie’s shit list.
“Maybe.”
He chuckled. “Saw that one coming. The way you two were looking at each other at the hospital was pretty obvious.”
“It wasn’t obvious to me. I was just worried I'd killed him. I wish I'd used a heavier vase. He’s stubborn, and he’s completely out of his mind. I wasn’t kissing, that was all on him. Then I had to put up with him cleaning the shop half-naked.”
He flinched. “Naked? Or half-naked and which half?”
I waved my hand dismissively and rolled my eyes. “With his shirt off. He broke into the shop and when I got there, he was mopping. After lunch he took his shirt off. Okay, he technically changed shirts before lunch, but then after lunch he just cleaned with it off and said he was hot. And I don’t think he meant that he was hot. I think he was trying to say he was like sexy-hot.”
“Hmm,” was the only response my dad gave me as I rattled on.
“Then the last few days, he’s been sending stuff to the shop and coming by to walk me out to my car.”
“I like this guy.”
I threw my dad an annoyed look. “You’re supposed to be sympathizing.”
He cleared his throat. “Right, continue.”
“When he walks me to my car he kisses me. Which is nice, I guess. Gawd, I shouldn’t be telling you this. I don’t know what to do with him, Dad.”
My father threw his head back and laughed. He was laughing so hard he grabbed his stomach. Meanwhile, I tapped my fingers on the wooden table and waited.
“This isn’t funny, Dad. He’s—”
“A man, Maddie. And apparently he’s not afraid of a challenge.”
I scrunched my no
se up. “Are you saying I’m a challenge? I’m not some prize at the end of a race. And I’m not that bad!”
“You’re not bad, just a little closed off sometimes. Did you give him the cold shoulder?”
“I tried when he was there the morning after the incident, but then he was flirting, and he said I needed to eat. He just said some things and asked a lot of questions. Now he comes by for lunch to ask questions.”
“Sounds to me, like he’s just trying to get to know you.”
In a very sexual sense. But that’s not something I wanted to tell my dad.
“He asked me on a date. Then I told him a list of things that disqualified him from dating me. Which he seemed to think he qualified for.”
He reached over and squeezed my arm. “Kiddo, I think you probably need to figure this one out on your own. If you’re asking what I think you should do, I’ll tell you what I tell your sister all the time. You’re old enough to make decisions on your own.”
“But—” I said and frowned.
“He’s a nice guy. If you want me to tell him that it’s not going to happen, and you feel absolutely nothing for him then I’ll do that for you. But that’s the only thing I’m going to get involved in. The rest is up to you.”
I chewed on my lip.
“Maddie, do you like him? Is that why you asked about dating after your mom died?”
“A little curious I guess.”
My dad gave me a small smile. “I did date after your mom died.”
My eyebrows shot up.
He took a deep breath and let it out. “She wanted different things than I did, though. And after being with your mom for so long, I wasn’t ready back then to change things.”
“Like what?”
“Well, she wanted to get married, eventually. Not something I was ready for. And she thought maybe getting a house together over on the east side of the city closer to the parks would be good. She was a widow, so she had a house that had belonged to her and her husband before he passed. I just wasn’t willing to give up this place.”
My hands fidgeted in my lap as I listened to my dad.
I detected a small tone of regret in his words. I wondered if he might have chosen differently if Rachel and I hadn’t in the picture at the time. But it also might have been a wistfulness to his voice. Like he thought of his time with this other woman fondly but wouldn’t have changed either way.
“What I’m saying, sweetie, is that just because I chose one path in life doesn’t mean you have to do the same. And frankly I hope you don’t.”
“So, there wasn’t anyone else for the last few years?”
A blush crept up his face and I smirked. “Maybe a couple here and there but nothing serious. I’m still a man after all.”
I laughed.
“So, tell me what’s on your mind about Owen.”
I opened my mouth but didn’t know quite what to say. I liked him, and I was attracted to him. He was definitely a dominant male, and had no problem saying what was on his mind. My hesitancy was that I could truly see myself falling for him and he would leave. What then?
Before I could say anything, I heard the front door open and close. There were a couple of men's voices talking at once.
“Hey, Bill!” I heard a familiar sexy voice yell.
Owen walked into the kitchen carrying a painter’s pole.
My eyes shot up, and his mouth dropped open slightly when he saw me. His gaze roamed my face then looked quickly over at my dad like he had just suddenly noticed him.
“Hey, the guys at Station Eight pointed me to one of their friends that paints houses. We’re going to get started on the outside. Looks like it needs a fresh coat.”
Two guys came up behind him, glanced my way, and waved at my dad. They were off duty firemen that owned a local painting service and were well known.
“Hey, Chief! Heard you needed some help. Owen came by, and we have the next two days clear. We'll just get set up.”
I tilted my head and studied Owen. He didn’t waste any time trying to get that date. I also noticed he didn’t ask for permission. He just did it.
His eyes flicked to mine for a fraction then dropped to my hands. I saw a small smirk that likely meant he had seen his little ring on my finger. Not something I’d told dad about.
Owen swung his eyes back to my father, still wearing that smug smile on his face.
“Is white, white and white an okay color for you on the house?
My father grinned. Surprised and maybe amused, he nodded his head.
“It’s a big place. Might take more than a few days.”
“I like a challenge,” Owen said.
My dad nodded again, then glanced over at me briefly. “I bet you do. Sounds good, just be careful. I’ve got food tonight and there’s plenty of beer, so we’ll see where you’re at when the game comes on.”
“I appreciate it. We'll catch up later.”
Owen gave me a wink and left the kitchen.
I turned to my dad who chuckled and gave me a grin.
“Anything I need to know?”
I sighed. Slightly irritated and slightly glad Owen had taken the initiative. Maybe a date wouldn’t be so bad. I was still getting what I needed out of the bargain.
“No. Yes, I guess. I promised him a date if he would get you to paint the house.”
My father threw back his head and laughed. “Determined young man.”
I huffed. Apparently.
“Come out back with me for a minute, sweet-tart.”
“Hmm?”
He motioned toward the closed back door and opened it for me to walk through. The charcoal in the grill was still red hot and smoking as we approached.
I coughed and waived a hand in front of my face.
He moved me to the side and back from it. “What does a fire need, Maddie?”
I thought for a minute. This was a question he'd asked several times through the years.
“Uhm, fuel which would be the charcoal. Oxygen and heat.”
“And if it runs out of those it dies, right?”
“Yeah, but why are you asking?”
“What does a fire do sometimes when it gets put out, but still has all of those things? Why do we keep checking it even after we've drenched it?”
I shrugged. “Because it could flare up?”
“Right. So, the fire smolders. It keeps burning deep down, and sometimes it can come back to life.”
“Okay?”
He grabbed a white bottle from the table near the porch and returned to my side.
“You have a smoldering heart, Maddie,” he said and gave me a wink. He looked back over his shoulder, and I turned to see a shirtless Owen on a ladder painting the side of the house.
My stomach did a small flip when I caught sight of him. I tried not to react but when he looked over at me, and gave me a wink, I made a small noise that sounded more like a whimper.
Dad cleared his throat. He moved closer the grill and flipped a nozzle on the bottle.
“Sometimes, all it takes for a fire to burn again is to add a little more air, like the wind. Sometimes, all it takes is more heat. Like the way you see wind heat up the center of the coals. But it definitely can’t live without fuel to burn. When you have a good mix of all three, a fire can sustain itself for a very long time.”
He squeezed the liquid in the bottle on top of the charcoal and it flared high with flames. I could feel the heat of it from where I stood several feet back.
Dad backed off toward me, still facing the grill. “I think Owen may be the fuel you need.”
“Dad—” I started to say.
He held up his hand. “I know you don’t like these analogies, but this one holds true if you think about it. I’ve tried to do right by both of you girls. Tried to teach you to stand up for yourself, and to be cautious. But I think sometimes that you took it to heart a little too much, Maddie. You’ve been alone for five years.”
I opened my mouth, but he conti
nued on.
“At first, that was a good thing. You had some healing to do, and I think you came out of your grief just fine. If you tell me you aren’t pining after Jason anymore, then I believe you. But don’t live in the shadow of what happened either. I’ve watched you, wondering when you would open up again. It seems like you’re waiting. And the way you’re looking at Owen and he’s looking at you, doesn’t seem like a bad thing from my perspective.”
“I’m not trying to wait or whatever. It’s just that it was so sudden. My life veered off in a direction that I didn’t plan on. I didn’t want to see anyone else. Scratch that. I can’t see myself with anyone else in this city. Knowing what happened. Because most of them do know or would find out. It was just easy with Jason.”
He shrugged. “Who cares? So, you’ve dealt with losing someone you loved. Me too. Most people have. Easy? Kiddo, love isn’t meant to be easy. It’s supposed to burn. That’s where we get passion from.”
Sighing, he reached over and grabbed my shoulder. He gave me a serious look, but I could still see the love in his eyes. “You have a big heart, Maddie, and what you need is something a little different then what you know. It can’t smolder forever. That’s no way to live. Burning but never really alive, changing, moving. Give it some fuel. Just make sure you take it slow or it’ll burn out just as quickly as it started.”
He pointed back at the charcoal that still had a few remaining flames. They were smaller, fighting for life, but soon fluttered and died.
“Got it?” he asked, when he finally turned to me.
I nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”
I heard the beeper on my dad’s belt chime.
He frowned at whatever the message displayed. “Looks like the cookout is postponed.”
Moving quickly toward the house, I followed him inside. He had the phone in his hand, before I stepped through the door.
“Maddie, do me a favor and throw all this in the fridge. Put that grill out. Unless you want to stay and cook. Up to you.”
I watched him dialing on his phone as he left the kitchen. I knew it meant he was being called into work. Growing up it had always made me jumpy to see him go into “work mode” suddenly, and through the years it hadn’t gotten any better. Fires were dangerous, and it was something you never forgot as a firefighter’s kid.
Smoldering Heart_Fleming Brothers [Book 1] Page 9
