by Nikki Duncan
With a brilliant smile lighting her face she brushed her fingers along his burned cheek and encouraged him to look at her. Like a breeze whispered through tree branches her warmth whispered through him. He licked his lips and stared, surprised at the depth of his craving for her.
“I’m not sure I can explain how much I like you.”
She looked at him instead of his scars and her touch lightened the darkness that dragged through his dreams and lived in his mind. Fear prevented him from saying anything that might change her mind or break the spell.
“I can’t stop thinking about you. About what almost happened at the party. What could have happened if I’d come in after driving you home.”
He swallowed. “That’s a lot of thinking.” And he’d been consumed with the same thoughts.
“I can’t stop wondering if we made a mistake.” She leaned against the table and then angled toward him. She was so close he smelled the tang of her sweetness and hungered to taste it. “If maybe we shouldn’t have allowed Andy’s interruption to stop us.”
Her breaths blew heavier against his lips. Parting them, he captured the slightest hint of her flavor. Or what he imagined to be her flavor.
She angled closer. “Tell me I imagined it and I’ll leave.” Emotion sparked in her gaze, setting fire to something exciting inside him. “I’m hoping it wasn’t my imagination,” she whispered.
He swallowed again, not trusting his ability to speak. “It wasn’t your imagination.”
Her shoulders sank with the force of her exhale. The move brought her closer, so close he was sure he felt her. “I shouldn’t have gone to the station that night though.”
“No. I shouldn’t have left after I brought you home.”
“I like you, Delancey.” Could maybe love you. His heart quaked at the thought, and not entirely uncomfortably. “You make me want to care and rely on you. You make me want to be here for you.”
“And that’s bad?”
“It is for me.” The semi-comfortable quake in his heart turned painful with the taste of rejection rising up.
Delancey robbed him of the opportunity to continue when she straddled him and eased onto his lap. She made full contact while being careful to keep her full weight off him. He’d have welcomed her weight and the evidence or reality it would bring.
Then she framed his face, touching the scarred side as easily as the unscarred side, and kissed him. The caress was gentle, barely a brush of skin against skin, but his craving became a hunger desperate for satisfaction. Wanting to pull her against him, to hold her tight and wrap himself around her, he forced himself to go slowly. To keep his touch soft like hers.
His fingers shook when he placed them on her face and deepened the kiss.
Darkness moved in when his lids dropped, but a sparkler-bright brilliance greeted him. Her mouth explored his. His mouth explored hers. Tongues brushed. Teeth bumped. Sighs mingled. Hearts slammed.
If they’d kissed like this outside the fire station he’d have plastered her to the wall and devoured her. Wouldn’t her friends have loved to see that? Or—and more likely—he’d have run as far and as fast as he could away from her.
Chapter Twelve
Delancey’s breaths were laser-precise scalpels slicing at her lungs. Desire for Logan and fear of risking what she might be feeling swirled in a confusion of sensations.
Her body and every impulse that drove it commanded that she plaster herself to him and never back away. Her mind fought for control and gave her the strength to hold herself back, because it was her mind that noticed his heart wasn’t fully behind the idea of taking the next step with her.
Logan needed—no, he deserved—to think about himself first. He’d lost everyone he ever allowed himself to care for, so it made sense he’d be afraid, or at least hesitant, to care for someone so soon after Ashley’s death. As much as she wanted him to care for her, asking for it was selfish.
Pressuring him to make a decision based on a moment, even as fantastic as the moment might be, was unrealistic. She didn’t have to accept his hesitance without a fight though. If he teetered on the edge of caring, and she suspected he was, she’d do what she could to show him it was okay to believe in happiness.
Rubbing a finger along his bottom lip, she whispered, “I understand you, Logan.”
He shook his head. “I doubt that.”
Bitterness hardened his tone. Delancey could argue, she wanted to argue. It would only drive a bigger wedge between them. Another option was to let go of trying to figure out whether or not she truly understood or just wanted to understand.
Easing away, she sat on the nearest chair. She locked her gaze with his and considered what she might say next. And how.
Logan angled his head and parted his lips like he had something to say. She shook her head the tiniest bit, begging him to say nothing. He pressed his lips together and waited.
Her hands trembled. Her throat grew thick. “Do you remember, in the hospital, when I showed you my scars?”
“How could I forget?”
Delancey drew in a breath, hoping to pull in the strength to go forward. Her voice, when she found the words, was a jagged whisper. “That was the first time… I haven’t shown… It’s been over a year since I’ve undressed in front of anyone. Let alone a man.”
As if she’d unbuttoned her shirt again, she felt the scars that covered her torso, wrapped her right side in wisps and trailed down her hip. Her graft sites no longer hurt and she’d worked damn hard to regain full muscle control. The hesitance to reveal herself remained unchanged. It had to be the same for Logan.
“I refused to think about it, to give it a name,” Delancey went on, “but I realize now why I’ve been so drawn to you from the moment you opened your eyes.”
Logan took her hand and shifted his leg against hers. The touch reminded her how close they were and how close she wanted to be.
“Destiny,” she said when he said nothing. “We were supposed to find each other.”
He stopped moving. “No pressure.”
“I don’t intend there to be any. That’s never been my intention.” With a settling breath she continued what she’d begun and shared more of herself. “It was a little over a year ago. My fiancé was traveling for work and convinced me to go with him.
“I lined it up to be gone with him for six weeks.” She shrugged, but there was nothing casual about the memory or the sharing of it. The trip had started beautifully with afternoons by the pool and evenings exploring the nightlife Chad loved so much before returning to the hotel to make love. “We went to a nightclub he’d talked about for weeks. They’d incorporated the elements—water, earth, air and fire—in their décor.
“It was spectacular. The bar was set beneath an aquarium that curved over and around it. Trees grew from the center of round tables as artificial wind swept through their branches, making a huge assortment of wind chimes dance. The fire was a massive, round fireplace in the ceiling that was supposed to be the sun.”
“Sounds ridiculous.”
“It was. Chad loved it though, and I figured I could gladly sacrifice a couple hours for his happiness.” She’d sacrificed more than a couple of hours. “We were dancing when the sun exploded. The glass cover rained down among flaming debris.”
The scene came back to life in her memory, complete with the screams and cries of bystanders and the stench of gas that fueled the sun. “Chad was knocked unconscious by some of the flaming debris. I was slammed against him, beneath him, as people rushed for freedom.” She choked down the tears that sought freedom every time she thought of that night. “I was too weak to pull him free, not that it mattered. He died the moment the debris hit him.”
“How’d you get out?”
He didn’t offer condolences or platitudes, and she appreciated that. Instead he asked her something that would help her get through the retelling. “Someone dragged me out before the firefighters got there.”
“Is that why you s
tarted fighting fires?”
“Andy would tell you I have a pathological need to help people. My friends think I went a little crazy after losing Chad. My mother is convinced I’m doing it to disgrace her into an early grave.”
“And the real reason?”
“I had to find a way to face the fear that haunted me every time I closed my eyes. And I refused to become one of those therapists who use their own baggage to guilt patients.”
“Seems to me you’d be a better therapist for it.”
She considered that angle. “If I walked in one day, introduced myself and told you I knew what you were going through, would you believe me or would you think it was a line?”
“A line,” he admitted with an incline of his head.
She inclined her head in turn. “With my life now, I help people and face my fears. I don’t feel a constant need to prove I know what I’m talking about.”
Logan stood and walked around the kitchen, stretching his neck and arms. “How does no one else know what you went through?”
“Chad’s family lives out of state. They knew I was injured and in the hospital, but I never told them the extent. They were too busy grieving their son to question.”
“And your family?”
“You saw my mother in action. We’re not close. I can go weeks without a single communication.”
“Your dad?”
“My brothers and Dad breathe work and believe whatever I tell them.” She shrugged. “They eagerly believed me when I said I was fine and just wanted to take some time alone.”
“Andy?”
“He knows, but we’ve never talked about it.”
“So you faced your surgery and follow-ups alone in a different town.”
“You don’t get all those questioning and sad looks when you keep people at bay. Plus, minimizing things derailed my mother’s list of all the plans that needed to be canceled. I just made sure to get everything done before I had to face her.”
“What about your therapy?”
“I handled it myself. Family and friends just think I went off the deep end with my diet and working out. When I was strong enough, I asked Andy to help me get in shape for the firefighter test. He’s helped make sure I’ll never be too weak to help someone.”
“Is that why you carried me out and your partner took Ashley?”
“Andy was closer to Ashley. And your eyes wouldn’t let me go.” His gaze held the same hurt she’d seen during the fire. The kind of hurt that came from knowing how short life could be. The same hurt she’d felt after losing Chad. “They still don’t, though not for the same reasons.”
Logan said nothing for a long while. She’d anticipated discomfort from telling her story. She felt peace. It was like she’d finally found a safe place where the past simply existed instead of hanging like a smudge she couldn’t wipe away.
“Delancey.”
“Yeah?”
“Did Chad ever… Did you ever see him again?”
“No. I wasn’t in a place to welcome it.” She smiled, amused by the pink tinge in his cheeks. “Is Ashley haunting you?”
“Driving me to the crazy house.”
She didn’t want to laugh at him, but she couldn’t help it. At least now he’d take it in the spirit she intended. “She tell you anything good?”
“She wants me surrounded by friends and married.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Meddling from beyond the grave is not sweet. It’s creepy.”
“Well, I can help with the friend angle. Maybe that will appease her.”
“Why do I think that means people beyond you?”
“Because you’re becoming a cranky loner who could take being a hermit to epic proportions.”
He laughed a laugh like no laugh she’d heard before. Free and boisterous, full of thrills, joy, dreams, it lifted her spirits to surprising heights. She’d seen him smile and heard him chuckle, but she hadn’t pictured him letting go of the pain enough to laugh until he held his sides and lost his breath. She said nothing out of fear he wouldn’t do it again, but it was a magical laugh.
“It wasn’t that funny,” she said when he calmed down. “Maybe Ashley’s got you closer to the crazy house than you thought.”
“I’m beginning to think you knew her. She’s accused me of exactly the same thing.”
“Well, if you’re that predictable maybe I do need to broaden your friend list.” And she had just the people in mind if he was open to it.
He cleared his throat and studied her a long minute before asking, “What do you have in mind?”
That was a question that tempted her to forget what they were talking about and change the subject. It made her want to forget friends and return to the kiss she still tasted. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Not going out with you and a group of friends.”
“What if going out was just to my place for a game of pool?”
“You have a pool table?”
He almost sounded excited about the idea. “I do.”
“Hmm. How many friends are you expecting?”
“Lexi and Andy. Just drinks, food and fun in a no-pressure setting.” Andy wasn’t supposed to come over, but if Logan agreed to join she would make it so.
“Your partner and cousin Andy, right?”
“Yes.” When he hesitated, she smiled and went for a cheap shot. “And Carmine’s pizza with everything.”
“You play dirty.”
“The best friends do.” She angled her head and smiled. “You in?”
“If you’re planning any surprises, ours is going to be a short friendship.”
“Lucky for you I value my friends.” Standing, she took his hand and pulled him to his feet. “Go get your shoes.”
When she was alone, Delancey pulled out her cell and called Andy to invite him over. Predictably, he canceled his plans and agreed to pick up the pizza on the way. With Andy on board, she sent a quick text to Lexi.
Change in girl-night plans. Game night with Andy and Logan. Carmine’s pizza.
Lexi texted back, Can’t wait to hear how this came about.
Delancey was looking at a picture of Logan and Ashley together when Logan came out of his room. Their arms were around each other and their matching smiles illuminated their gazes. They’d adored each other and clearly enjoyed one another’s company. She wanted to see him look like that again. Tonight could be a good first step.
“Ready?”
“I guess.”
On the way to her house, Logan talked about his life with Ashley. He told her some of the plans he and Ashley had made for the future. He talked about the vision she’d had for the house and how he’d been getting ready to move out to give her space with her fiancé.
He was telling her stories about Ashley always trying to set him up when she pulled into the driveway.
Lexi’s car was parked in the second parking spot, not surprising she’d be the first one there. It was one reason she had a key. Delancey pressed the visor button for the garage door. If they didn’t get inside immediately, she’d give Lexi three minutes before she was opening the door to the kitchen to see what she might catch.
“What are you grinning about?” Logan asked.
“You have a meddling ghost. I have Lexi. This—” she waved a finger between herself and Logan, “—has her curious.”
“Is this—” he waved a finger between them, “—something to be curious about?”
“Whether we want it to be or not.”
He watched her in that way he had, the way that locked her in place, unable to look away. “Do you want it to be?”
“Possibly, but I don’t want to rush things.”
“Ditto.” He got out of the Jeep and they met by the hood. His sweats hung low on his hips and if he moved just right she’d get a tempting glimpse of skin. No such luck so far tonight though.
Broad shoulders and lean build. Thick hair and serious eyes. Bursts of fun that transformed him
from grumpy to carefree. Sexy in every way, Logan was more appealing than he knew.
“Tonight just try to relax and enjoy the company.” Linking her arm with his, she led him to the door. He pulled her to a stop and stared at the door a few feet away.
“Logan?”
“I need a minute.”
Shifting so she stood in front of him, Delancey rested a hand on his stomach. The bubbled feel of his skin beneath the compression shirt aroused her curiosity to see him shirtless again. He wouldn’t think it, but he was more than good-looking and she could admire him all day.
As large as he was next to her, the show of vulnerability when his body trembled beneath her touch surprised her. Then he rubbed his fingers over his face scars and she understood.
Facing Lexi at the hospital was one thing. She was a nurse whose job it was to help him. Here he had to face her as a person. And then they were tossing Andy into the mix.
“I can take you home if you don’t want to be here,” she offered. “I didn’t mean to push.”
He looked from the door to her to the door and back to her. Their eyes locked. His stomach trembled beneath her palm. He licked his lips and swallowed.
Her fingers flexed against him. Her temperature rose, influenced by the directness of his gaze.
“I can do this,” he said.
Please do. The thought snapped into her mind, but she held it back.
“Hey.” Lexi opened the door that led into the kitchen. “Andy’s here with the pizza. You two coming in tonight?”
Delancey raised her brows, aware that it had only been about three minutes since they’d pulled in, and asked Logan, “What do you say? Your place or mine?”
“That’s a loaded question.”
She leaned in, teasing herself as much as him. “I know.”
“May as well. I’m here.”
“Ha,” Lexi said as she turned back inside. “That’s what Andy said about booze.”
“Maybe it won’t be too bad,” Logan mumbled.
Linking her fingers with his, Delancey led him into the kitchen. “Let me know if you need an escape. Or you can feel free to find another room to hide in if you just need a break.”
