Kiss of Fire (St. James Family)

by Parker, Lavender

  “I need a change, sir,” O'Donovan said, dragging his eyes off the calendar and onto O'Reilly's face. “Are you going to stand in my way?” O'Donovan asked, cocking an eyebrow. O'Reilly leaned back in his chair, the springs creaking under his weight.

  “No, I suppose not.” O'Reilly smoothed his fingers over his mustache. “The 52nd ladder in Washington Heights is the only opening in Manhattan. But they're looking for a lieutenant.”

  “Huh,” O'Donovan grunted.

  “Got a few other openings in Brooklyn and the Bronx, too. Seems like a long way from home.”

  “Maybe that's the point. Excuse my french, sir, but I made a huge fucking mistake. No one's sorrier about that than I am, believe me.” O'Donovan rolled his shoulders again. “But I've been spinning my wheels for awhile now.”

  “Spinning your wheels?” O'Reilly chuckled, shaking his head. “I guess that's one way to put it.”

  “I'm ready for a change.”

  “Well, if you really want Manhattan, there's a lieutenant's test coming up. You've been a sergeant for awhile now. You could have a shot.”

  O'Donovan took in the information, trying to imagine himself as the one in charge, running his own firehouse. He'd have more regular hours, and more responsibility. He thought of Toni, oddly. A fantasy unfolded before him, of living in her fancy apartment and eating dinner together five nights a week. Or at the very least, holding each other and talking about their days in the minutes before they fell asleep. Every night, side by side with Toni. What a tempting thought. The larger paycheck wouldn't hurt, either. He'd never be able to compete with Van der Kind's wealth, nor would he want to, but he'd be able to give her a good life. The kind of life she deserved. If she let him.

  “I'll think about it, Captain,” O'Donovan said, standing.

  “You do that. You'd be a good lieutenant, if you pulled your head out of your ass.”

  “I don't know, sir. It's pretty firmly lodged up there,” O'Donovan said, with a wry smile.

  “Get out of my office, you dickhead,” O'Reilly said, lighting up a cigarette.

  “Hey, Captain?” O'Donovan said, stopping by the door. “I am sorry.”

  “Yeah, yeah, tell it to your priest,” O'Reilly muttered, taking a deep drag. “Get outta here.” O'Donovan nodded and headed out to the truck, more impatient than ever for the final hours of his shift to end. Even though she didn't want to see him, he knew he'd be on his way to Manhattan that night. He couldn't stay away. He wanted her to know that he was thinking about her, especially on her birthday. He needed her to know that he wasn't giving up. No fucking way.

  He could hear the banging music down the hallway as the elevator doors opened on her floor. The closer he got to her door, he realized it was coming from her apartment. He could make out Jay-Z rapping, the beat vibrating through the walls. He rang the buzzer, pressing his finger against the button until someone opened the door.

  A puff of weed smoke rolled out as Toni swung open the door, a big smile on her face and a laugh on her lips. The smile faded abruptly when she saw him.

  “Hey lovely,” he said. “Happy birthday.”

  “You aren't invited,” she said, trying to slam the door in his face. Luckily, he preempted her move and slid his boot in-between the door and the frame.

  “I'm not trying to ruin your party,” he said.

  “You can't ruin it,” she said, her words a little slurred.

  “Come talk to me for a minute,” he said, leaning in close so she could hear him over the laughter and music inside her apartment. He smelled the alcohol on her, and he wondered how much she'd had to drink. Toni rarely drank, especially in the middle of the week. She hesitated, and he took advantage, wrapping his fingers around her arm and pulling her into the hallway. She rolled her eyes, but she followed him out, pulling the door up behind her. He raked his eyes down her, taking in the short dress she was wearing. “I bet your neighbors love you,” he said, glancing down the hallway.

  “I invited them to the party,” she said with a shrug. “Some of them came.”

  “Bees with honey, huh?” he said, chuckling.

  “Exactly,” she smiled. “I promised them music off at 1:00 a.m. So if you'll excuse me, I have a party to return to.” She went to turn, but he grabbed her arm again.

  “Toni.” Her name was like a prayer on his lips, and she lifted her eyes to meet his, as a couple of men burst out of the door, arms around each other.

  “Toni! Girl, see you tomorrow!” one said, blowing her a kiss.

  “Bright and early,” Toni said with a glowing smile, watching her friends as they retreated down the hallway. Then she turned back to O'Donovan, her face dour again. “It's just a little impromptu party. Birthday and housewarming all-in-one. Thrown together at the last minute.”

  “With a few hundred of your closest friends?” O'Donovan said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Exactly,” she said, stepping closer to him and jabbing her finger into his ribs. “And since you weren't invited, you should take the hint and get lost.”

  “In a minute,” he said, not able to resist moving closer to her, until her mouth was inches from his. She ran her tongue over her lips and he watched the movement, enthralled. She still had him by the balls, that was for sure. The door opened again, and more partygoers spilled out into the hallway. Toni gave them a faint smile as they headed for the elevator, then turned back to O'Donovan. He took her hand, leading her into the dark staircase.

  “What do you want, O'Donovan?” she asked softly, pressing her back against the wall. He loomed over her, dropping his head to brush his forehead against hers.

  “To wish you happy birthday.”

  “Is that all you wanted?” she asked lightly, bowing her back so that her hips grazed his. He dropped his eyes to where her body met his, the soft contact enough to get him hard. But today was about her, not his cock. So he ignored his erection, and took a step back. Unfortunately her bare thighs, visible from under the hem of her skirt, were harder to ignore. “Are you going to give me a birthday present?” she asked, cocking her head.

  “If you want me to,” he said, knowing Toni was playing with him again. Even drunk and high, she was playing with him. Like he was a puppet, and she was pulling all the strings. But instead of pissing him off, it only turned him on more. He wanted to touch her, and she knew it. Toni flicked her eyes up to meet his, and he knew she wanted it, too. He knew what she needed; what both of them needed. He drew a hand up her silken thigh, and she shivered into him. She tilted her face up to his.

  “Well, give it to me, baby,” she said, the alcohol making her confident, and he kissed her, finally, like he'd been waiting to do for weeks. She responded instantly, leaning into him and moving her lips against his. He wedged his hand between her thighs, thrusting a finger past her little panties and inside of her before he could stop himself. She moaned, the sound so sweet in his ears. She lifted her leg and hooked it on his hip, giving him more access. Then she slid her arms around his neck, pulling him close, and he thrust in and out, sliding another finger in when she was good and wet.

  The last time they'd come together, it had been hard and fast. He hadn't gotten a chance to make love to her. So he did now, with his tongue between her lips and his fingers between her thighs. She moaned and whimpered into him, and he took it all, all of her pleasure. It wasn't long before she gasped and gushed and clenched around his fingers, her starry-eyes on his as she came.

  He disentangled himself from her slowly, not wanting to leave her. She took his wrist and pulled his hand to her mouth. She sucked his two fingers between her lips, licking all of her sweet nectar off of him. The sight made his whole body tighten painfully, but he held onto his control. Barely, but he did.

  “Just what I wanted,” she whispered, panting, letting his hand fall to his side. Then she slipped around him, hurrying back toward her apartment.

  “Toni,” he called out and she froze. She turned back, slowly.

  “What?” sh
e said, looking sober now. So many things passed through his mind that he wanted to say. That he loved her, that he wasn't going to give up on her, that he wanted to stay with her. But he didn't. He'd done enough that night. He checked his watch.

  “It's 1:00 a.m.” he said. She furrowed her brow, confused for a moment.

  “Oh. Right.” It dawned on her. “Time for me to turn back into a pumpkin,” she said, snorting out a laugh, and continued on to her apartment. He could only stand there, planted in the spot, watching, as she slammed the door in his face. The thumping music abruptly turned off, and he walked in silence back to the elevator.

  Chapter 22

  One Month Later

  “Miranda Van der Kind is trying to kill me,” Annata sighed as she checked out her ass in the mirror in the Bergdorf's dressing room. The wine-colored sequined dress she wore shimmered in the light, but the zipper wouldn't go further than midway up her back, thanks to her growing baby bump. “This is what I get for not having a wedding. I have to go along with whatever ridiculous party idea she can come up with.”

  “Sweet, sweet payback,” Toni said, head poked around the velvet curtain of her own dressing room. Toni's head was pounding something fierce, but her headache was the least of her problems. O'Donovan was always on her mind. The birthday party had been a bad idea, in more ways than one. The whole reason she'd thrown a party was to get her mind off of O'Donovan, and then he'd shown up like he'd known what she was up to. He didn't want her to forget him, and his campaign to win her back was starting to gain ground. He was a few battles away from winning the war. But she wasn't going to let him. For both of their sakes, they needed to move on.

  “Trying on dresses when you're pregnant is a special kind of torture,” Nat said, dropping her hands to her hips. “My boobs are out of control, my ass is out of control, and I feel like I could vomit all over myself at any moment.”

  “Try on the cream-colored one. It's flowy.”

  “I can't wear cream after Labor Day. Can I?”

  “I don't know. Can you?”

  “Who cares? I'm going to find a black tent and call it a day.” Nat shifted her hips and turned to Toni. “Okay, let's see it. At least one of us will look nice at this idiotic party.”

  “You have to zip me up,” Toni said, stepping out into the open. The dress was a simple, sleeveless sheath that hugged her curves. She normally wouldn't pick such a sexy dress, but the color reeled her in. It was a dark emerald green, the same color as a certain Irishman's eyes. Not that she was still thinking about O'Donovan. Not at all.

  “Wow,” Annata said, and tears sprung in her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat and she let out a little sigh. “You look fantastic.”

  “Are you crying?” Toni asked, her eye brows shooting up. Nat never cried.

  “Get used to it,” Nat put her hands on Toni's shoulders and turned her toward the mirror. “I cried this morning when I woke up and remembered Christy was still in fucking Paris. I cried when some asshole took my cab this afternoon. I'm a veritable tear factory.” Nat yanked the zipper up Toni's spine and Toni stepped to the mirror and did a little twirl. In the light, the green was vibrant and lovely. Too bad the only one person she wanted to see her in it wouldn't. She would have loved to see O'Donovan's face as she sashayed up to him, the dress showing off every curve. A pang of frustration went through her. She sighed, catching her own eyes in the mirror, and forced herself to smile, for Nat's sake.

  “That's the one, definitely,” Nat nodded. “Now help me get this dress off before I rip it off.” Toni rolled her eyes and helped Nat unzip the ill-fitting gown.

  “I think you should be flattered Miranda wants to throw you a big fortieth birthday party. It's a milestone,” Toni said.

  “Remember what Miranda said when she first met you?” Nat said, giving Toni a knowing look in the mirror. Toni giggled, remembering Miranda Van der Kind's wide-eyed expression. 'Oh! There are two of you!' she'd said to Annie, smiling a big society smile that masked the horror behind her eyes. “This party is punishment. It's a way for Miranda to announce my advancing age to everyone in a socially acceptable forum.”

  “Forty isn't that old. And like Granny says, black don't crack.”

  “Says the 25-year-old.”

  “I'm twenty-six now,” Toni reminded her, as if that year made a big difference.

  “Whatever. I'm old and I'm pregnant. I'll cry if I want to,” Nat laughed, heading back into the dressing room and closing the curtain behind her. Toni turned back to the mirror.

  “I heard back from Pacific Northwest,” Toni called out, her heart speeding up, nervous about Nat's reaction. Nat was silent, but Toni could feel her sister's mind working a mile a minute behind the curtain. “They offered me a position. A soloist position, but I'd have a good shot of being bumped up within the year to principal.”

  “A soloist?” Nat said. “You're a soloist now.”

  “Right, but I'd have a better shot at principal there,” Toni explained. Nat didn't reply. “I told them I'd give them an answer within a week.” Nat threw open the curtain, tucking her blouse into her loose skirt.

  “Well, if you're seriously considering it, get it in writing that you'll be bumped up to principal within a set amount of time.” Nat stepped into her heels. “Is the salary better?”

  “No,” Toni admitted. “But the cost of living is less in Seattle.” Nat raised an eyebrow and stepped to the mirror to reapply her lipstick.

  “Negotiable?”

  “I don't know,” Toni said, shrugging.

  “Everything is negotiable, dear,” Annata said. “Except this party, of course.” After a moment, both sisters dissolved into giggles at her fatalistic tone. But as she headed back into her dressing room to change, Toni couldn't help but feel the now-familiar dread settle like a heavy stone in her stomach. Her new life was within her reach, but somehow, the possibility didn't make her feel any better. It only made her feel worse.

  ***

  O'Donovan spun the envelope on the table, instead of opening it. He watched it go around in a white blur, trying to decide if he was going to rip it up and toss it out or actually read it. The letter contained his future. Well, the possibility of the future. A future that possibly contained Toni, but also a future where he was in charge of his life. A future where he stopped fucking around and started moving forward. A future where he was a lieutenant in Manhattan, as crazy as that sounded.

  “Hey O'Donovan, what's your fucking secret?” Bradford said, clomping up the stairs in his steel-toes. “Now, I agree classy black chicks are where it's at, but how do you get them to stoop to your level?”

  “What? Fuck off,” O'Donovan said, annoyed at having his thoughts interrupted.

  “No, I really want to know your secret. Do you have like a magical white dick or something?”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “There is a woman of a darker persuasion who is completely out of your league waiting for you out front. I tried to tell her what an asshole you were, but she wasn't really having it,” Bradford crossed his arms, his humor attempting to disguise the fact that he wholly disapproved. But O'Donovan didn't give a fuck. He was already on his feet, tucking the envelope in his back pocket. “She's pregnant, too. Is that all you? Cuz I gotta warn you, white boy. A chick like that? She'll ruin your life.”

  “Do you ever shut up?” O'Donovan said, getting up in Bradford's face. He felt himself deflate a bit because he knew it wasn't Toni who'd come to see him, but he didn't show any weakness in front of Bradford. No way.

  “You gonna shut me up?”

  “I can and will,” O'Donovan said, not flinching.

  “Hey! O'Donovan get your ass down here!” O'Reilly called out, and Bradford smiled, the tension dissipating.

  “Til next time.”

  “Yeah, motherfucker,” O'Donovan grumbled, turning and jogging down the stairs. Shoving a fist in Bradford's mug really sounded like a great idea right about then, but he could wa
it. First things first. He jogged past red-faced O'Reilly, who was scowling at him from the front office, and out into the cool night air.

  Annata St. James stood right outside the mouth of the firehouse, in an expensive looking black wool cape that did little to disguise her bulging belly. He froze, still taken aback by how much she looked like Toni, despite her hard eyes. He felt his heart jump in his chest at the sight of her, but he kept his face neutral. She took him in, expressionless, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Can we talk?” she asked, motioning to the black town car idling on the street, waiting for her return. After a second's hesitation, O'Donovan nodded and followed her to the curb. The driver hopped out of the car, and opened the door for her. She slid inside, still graceful despite her pregnancy, and he followed her in. The driver closed the door behind them, but didn't get in, leaving them alone in the muffled, warm silence of the car. Her perfume filled his nostrils, and he knew he would smell her on his clothes when she was gone, rich and just out of reach.

  “Congratulations,” O'Donovan said.

  “Oh. Thank you,” she said, dropping her hands to her belly. “It was a bit of a surprise. A happy surprise, but a surprise nonetheless.” She shrugged slightly, the movement barely perceptible. “Anyway, I'm sure you know what this is about.”

  “Enlighten me,” he said.

  “Toni has gotten it into her head that she's going to move across the country to Seattle,” Annata said. O'Donovan's brain felt like it was going to explode for a minute, and he clenched his fist on his knee, waiting out the pain. The reality of Toni leaving the city, leaving him, was a lot to take in. In fact, it felt like a sledgehammer to the brain. He felt Annata watching his reaction, and he didn't like it, but it was hard for him to control. “We can't let that happen,” Annata continued, her voice smooth.

  “If she wants to go,” he said, his voice strained. “I'm not going to stop her.”

  “For fuck's sake.” She shook her head in disgust. “You're still in love with her, correct?”