by Sara Arden
Rekindled Ember
Ember Lake 2
Sara Arden
Copyright © 2017 by Sara Arden
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
1
The check Livie Dodd held in her hand could change her life.
She could use it to pay off the loan on the bar, which meant she could sell it. There was enough money to give her a new start, in a new town. In a place far away from Ember Lake, the place where her happily ever after had been born, and the place where it had died.
Livie would never have to drive past Country Road 5 again. She’d never have to see where her husband had taken his last breath, where he’d traded his life for someone else’s. She wouldn’t have to live with everyone whispering about “poor Widow Dodd” every time she walked by.
It was a chance to live again.
And she had Royce Cole to thank for that.
She was still a little angry and embarrassed at being singled out in front of the town because Livie always felt like she was on display. Her pain a source of town discussion and speculation. Except, he’d done this thing for her.
He was currently re-hanging the screen door back in the kitchen. The damn thing had been rattling for three years. Ben had only been gone for two. It had been on his project list. One of the many things he’d never gotten to do.
Ben, like Royce, had loved working with his hands. She rested her hand on the smooth surface of the bar. He’d refinished it himself. There was a piece of Ben just below the sealant. His had been the last hands to touch it, his breath blowing the sawdust away from the surface. His love seeping into the grain of the wood…
Could she really let go of that? Of that piece of him?
Logic told her it was time. She’d never live her life if she spent all of her time in a mausoleum. That’s what the bar had become. A crypt.
“Hey, Liv. Got that door fixed. Anything else on your list?” Royce appeared in the doorway. Just the sight of him there in his white t-shirt, dirty from an honest day’s labor gave her a kind of peace. He was familiar. Solid. He’d been a fixture in her life since high school. While everything else changed, Royce was the same.
Livie was worried she’d come depend on him more than she should. The jukebox had been acting up, but she didn’t want to ask him. He already did so much for her. She bit her lip.
“What is it? Come on, I want to you to let me out of the dog house.” He flashed her a grin that showed all of his straight, white teeth.
Really, it should be against the law for a man to be as pretty as all the Cole men were. Someone in their family tree had made a deal with the devil.
“You’re not in the dog house. How could you be? You’ve fixed the sink, and re-hung the door.” And gave me my freedom.
“Oh, are we still not talking about the First Responder’s Widows and Orphans Benefit?” He nodded his head. “That means I’m still in the dog house.”
He knew her too well. “I’m not mad, Royce. I mean, after the initial shock.”
“I couldn’t stand it, Liv. You struggling with this place. Trying so hard and it just kept pulling you down. This bar was never your dream. It was his. That money is rightfully yours. Every penny.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “It feels like blood money.”
“It is, but Ben would want you to take it.”
“Do you think so?” Sometimes she wondered if he would understand that she didn’t want to stay here. Didn’t want to live with ghosts of a past and a future she couldn’t have. “I wonder if he’d be disappointed in me.”
Royce’s strong arms came around her. “He could never be disappointed in you. You were the best thing that ever happened to him.”
His kindness was too much. It made her feel worse. Like she’d betrayed Ben in some way. Even though, deep down, she couldn’t help but feel Ben was the one who’d betrayed her. “I was never really his wife. I always felt like his mistress,” she dared to confess.
For a moment, she wondered if Royce was going to be angry at her for disparaging Ben’s memory. This town had made it a holy thing, like all their heroes, but he was more than a hero. And less. He was just a man, and he’d been her man. Now, he was gone.
“What do you mean?”
He didn’t push her away and she allowed herself the luxury of hiding her face against his chest. He was so strong, so warm. So alive. She inhaled deeply and he smelled like Allison’s cupcakes. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting.
A man that handsome shouldn’t smell like cupcakes. Definitely a deal with the devil, she decided.
His hand rested on the small of her back.
“You can tell me.”
Maybe she shouldn’t have confided in him, he was Ben’s best friend, but the words came tumbling out anyway. She’d choked them back for too long. “Every second he spent with me was time stolen from the love of his life. The job. He was married to it, not to me. And like most men who cheat, he chose his wife over his lover.” She knew she sounded petulant. Selfish. Livie was just still so damn mad.
She was angry he’d left her. Angry he’d told her he loved her. Angry she’d built her life around a lie. Because while Ben had loved Livie as much as he could love any person, he loved the job more.
“He’d be here if he could, Liv.”
“I begged him to call off that day. We were talking about starting a family. Trying to have a baby.” She’d never told him that before. She’d never told anyone that.
His arms felt so good. He felt good. His solid presence. Livie thought again about how much she’d come to depend on him.
Which was why she had to stop.
She needed to sell the bar and move as far away from him as she could get. He and Ben were cut from the same cloth. There would never be any love higher than the job for Royce Cole. It was in his blood. Hell, even his mother had been a firefighter.
“Tell me what you need, Liv. I’ll give it to you.” There was a plea in his voice. She knew above all things, Royce Cole was a fixer. If you had a problem, he would try to find a solution. Even if there was no solution.
What she needed? She didn’t know.
What she wanted? For him to push her up against the wall and kiss her until she couldn’t think straight, and then make love to her all night so she could remember what it felt like to be touched. To be a desirable woman.
To be something besides Ben Dodd’s sad widow.
She wondered if part of her new obsession with Royce Cole was because she knew if they crossed that line, that she wouldn’t let herself think about him anymore. She’d cut him out of her life like a cancer. She’d have to. It’d be the only way she’d survive.
Livie would never let herself love another hero.
She knew the world needed them, but the only thing heroes seemed to be good for was dying. Livie didn’t want to share the next person she loved with the world. She didn’t want that person to put everyone else’s life before her happiness. She knew it was small and petty, but she’d made her sacrifice and she cou
ldn’t do it again.
She wouldn’t.
Losing Ben had broken her and she’d only just managed to paste the pieces of herself back together.
His strong hand stroked up and down her back slowly and she told herself to pull away. Sirens blared in her head warning her of the dangers in this embrace, but she hadn’t been touched in so long.
Hadn’t felt like she could set down her burden and rest.
Royce offered her that peace and strength. She needed that most of all. So for a single moment, she let herself be weak. She let herself breathe in the scent of cupcakes and exhale all the bitter rage, all the sadness, and all the fear.
Emotion overwhelmed her and tears pricked her eyes, but she wouldn’t cry. She’d done enough crying to last a lifetime.
She kept waiting for him to make a joke, say something to break this thing building between them. That’s what he did. He always had a laugh whenever things got too serious. Even the day Ben died, and she’d sobbed in his arms, he’d had her laughing before he’d put her to bed with a cold compress on her eyes and a valium.
But he didn’t.
He stood there, hard and immovable stone. Her rock. Being exactly what she needed. That was why it was so easy to love the heroes. So easy to fall, because they were quick to pick up your burdens, quick to put themselves to between you and the slings and arrows of the world.
Livie sighed. “I’m sorry.” She knew she’d never offered him the kind of comfort he’d offered her. He’d been Ben’s best friend. Had loved him long before either one of them had ever met Livie.
“For what, sweetheart?”
The endearment, innocent as it was, shouldn’t have made her shiver with a secret desire, but it did.
“You’ve been so good to me. I don’t feel I’ve returned the favor.”
He squeezed her tighter and lifted her off her feet. “All I need is for you to let me help you.” Royce set her back on her feet. “That’s how I honor my friend’s life.”
“Would you hate me if I sold the bar?”
“Of course not. I love this place, but only because of the people who were here. I’d buy it from you, if you were selling. Or I’d try.”
He rubbed her back some more and she didn’t want to let go, but she knew she had to. It was like this was a metaphor for her whole life. She couldn’t keep expecting Royce to hold her up. She had to stand on her own, no matter how cold and lonely that might be.
Otherwise, nothing would ever change.
“Thank you.” The words didn’t seem like enough to encompass everything she felt.
“Always, Liv.”
She still couldn’t make herself let go and he didn’t seem inclined to make her either.
“I guess we can’t stand here all day,” she murmured.
“Who says?”
She laughed. He always made her laugh. Livie looked up at him. God, he was gorgeous. She felt guilty for perving on him. Her feelings were so twisted up. “Me. I’ve got to get the orders in for the week.”
His arms slid away and for a moment, she considered diving back into his embrace and hiding there forever. She knew he’d let her.
Livie had to cut the tension that thickened the air between them and she made a big show of sniffing him again.
“Are you smelling me?”
“Yep. You smell like your mom’s cupcakes.”
She expected him to laugh, or to tease her, but he didn’t. Instead, he grabbed her again, like she was nothing but a little doll and buried his face in her neck.
Her body reacted, every nerve receptor on fire with desire.
“Fair is fair.”
“What?”
“You smell like cinnamon.”
“I broke a bottle of Fireball in the storeroom last week,” she whispered. “It’s on my shoes.”
“Hmm. No, I don’t think it’s your shoes.”
His cheek brushed hers and she couldn’t help but think how intimate all of this was.
“I’ll trade you a shot of Fireball for a cupcake,” Livie offered, hating how high-pitched her voice sounded.
“I don’t have any. I ate them all.” He put her down.
You didn’t save me one?” She slapped at his shoulder. “You don’t love me at all.”
Oh, damn. Why had she said that? She’d only been teasing, but she didn’t want to talk about love and Royce Cole.
“There’s love, Livie. And there’s my mother’s cupcakes.”
He still had his hands on her. She couldn’t seem to stop touching him and he couldn’t seem to stop touching her.
Was he having the same thoughts about her?
Another wave of desire hit her hard and fast and she pushed it away, locked it down with all the other things she had to hide from.
The sound of the front door opening caused them to jerk apart like they’d both been burned.
Or they’d been doing something illicit.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” Erin Sterling, writer for the Ember Lake Times, and organizer of all things Lucky Seven Calendar said.
Noah Finnegan, firefighter and ladies’ man extraordinaire, was right behind her. “I told you she would be.”
“Do you have a minute?” Erin asked.
She didn’t, not really, but talking with Erin provided a much needed escape. “Sure. What’s up?” She walked over to the bar. “Want a drink?”
“Ginger whiskey, lime and bitters? I know the ginger whiskey is pretty obscure.”
“Oh, so you don’t want ginger ale and whiskey but ginger whiskey? Gotcha.” Ben had always kept the ginger whiskey in stock because it was Livie’s favorite, too. “I keep it on hand.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t think to ask before now.”
“Well, most of the people who drink here are all about the beer. So I can understand why it wouldn’t occur to you to ask. But if there’s anything you’d like us to keep on hand, we can order it.” Livie shrugged. She was more than happy to special order spirits because it was easy to store and even if only that one person ever drank it, it was worth it to keep the patronage.
“One of the better perks of small town life.” Erin grinned.
Livie poured the whiskey, topped it off with bitters and the dash of lime. “Anything else, guys?”
“Water?” Noah asked. “I’m playing chauffeur.”
“You got it.”
Royce pulled out a chair for Erin and after she sat down, she paused. “Okay, is it just me or do I smell cupcakes?”
Livie grinned. “You smell cupcakes. Red velvet ones.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. That’s actually Royce.”
Erin arched a brow. “Listen, I don’t think you know the danger you’re in. I’m a fat girl who loves cupcakes. You’re about to get yourself in trouble.”
Royce laughed and turned her words back on her. “Oh really? Maybe I want to be in trouble.”
“You think I’m kidding.”
“So, wait. All I have to do is smell like cupcakes?” Noah interjected. “Royce, man. Gimme.”
Erin blushed and was suddenly very busy with something in her bag.
Livie felt guilty for the momentary flash of jealousy that had sparked at Royce’s words. Royce was a flirt. He flirted with everyone. She had to remind herself of that when he was flirting with her.
Erin wasn’t even interested in Royce. It was obvious that she was very interested in Noah, though. And who wouldn’t be?
“I ate them all.” Royce patted his flat stomach.
“Dick,” Noah muttered.
“It should be a crime for either of you to smell like cupcakes. You’re already too hot for your own good,” Livie said.
Erin nodded in agreement.
Noah perked. “She said I’m hot.”
Royce shrugged. “I’m hotter because I smell like cupcakes.”
“My abs are better.” Noah pulled up his shirt to give everyone a peak at his muscles.
Royce rolled his
eyes. “We can let the ladies judge.” He pulled up his own shirt. “Whose are better?”
The part of Livie that had been quiet for so long spoke up in the back of her head. It told her to reach out and touch them. They wanted her to judge after all. Had been invited.
She decided that part of her needed to stay silent. She didn’t need to be thinking these thoughts.
Erin eyed Noah slyly. “I don’t know…”
Noah grabbed her hand and put it on his abs. “Yes, you do. Me. I win.”
“Yeah, but I smell like cupcakes. Hey, you could eat them off my abs on my calendar shoot.” He waggled his brows.
“Uh, no.”
“That would actually be pretty hot.” Noah grinned, his hand still on Erin’s, until she snatched it away.
Livie decided to take pity on her. “So what did you need?”
Noah wasn’t about to let it go. “We need a winner for Mr. Abs, first.”
“It’s a tie,” Livie said. “Next.”
“You’re no fun,” Noah sighed.
“I know. I’m all business.” She grinned.
Erin straightened. “I was actually wondering if we’d be able to do this year’s shoot for the calendar here? Last year, we did the firehouse, but it was really an issue because if the guys had to respond…”
“Yeah, of course. They spend so much time here anyway. It might actually be a good draw for the bar.”
“It would. I’ll be sure to make mention. Also, we’re looking at doing a bachelor auction this year as well. What would you think about hosting it?”
“Of course. We’d love to.” We? Did she have a mouse in her pocket? There was no we. There was only her.
Royce grinned. “I fully expect you to bid on me.”
Her cheeks heated. It had been on the tip of her tongue to ask what she was going to do with him if she won, but she was afraid he’d tell her. “Not a chance. I’m going to buy Noah.”
