Controlled Burn

by Shannon Stacey

  “Can you imagine how long it would take us to muck out this house if we sold it?”

  “Are you considering selling?” He wasn’t sure if the subject had been temporarily tabled or if he just wasn’t in the loop, but he hadn’t heard much about it since they filled him in after the appointment with the doctor.

  Joe shrugged and opened another drawer. “We’re not not considering it.”

  Rick wondered if Jessica had been talking to them, or if they were just naturally working themselves toward that direction. “It’s a big house. Needs a lot of upkeep and I know the utility bills and the taxes must be a bitch.”

  “I hate surrendering to it. It’s like an admission I might be getting old.”

  “Hell, half the people you grew up with sold their houses and bought condos in Florida ten years ago or more.”

  Joe snorted. “We went to Florida once. I hated it.”

  “Well, there are plenty of options around here. Maybe something away from the city, where it’s quiet, and you and Marie can sit on a doublewide swing and listen to the birds sing or whatever.”

  “I like this neighborhood. We know where everything is and we can walk to almost anything we want. I’m a city boy at heart. But it is a big house, and Marie’s not getting any younger.”

  It struck Rick how Joe wouldn’t admit to being too old to take care of the house, but maybe he’d consider selling it for Marie’s sake. “How does she feel about it?”

  “Same as I do, mostly. We like it here and don’t really want to move. But we also don’t want the other to end up in a bind if something happens, you know?”

  “You don’t have to rush into anything. And the most important thing is that the two of you are on the same page about it and screw what anybody else thinks.”

  “Yeah. Jessica helped Marie set up an appointment with a real estate agent for Wednesday. She says we can’t really think about our options without a solid idea of what we might be able to get for the house.”

  “She’s probably right.” She hadn’t mentioned the real estate agent to him at all, and it had to have been set up before the hockey game. Even if they’d made the appointment on Friday while he was working, it seemed odd she didn’t say anything to him.

  “I guess Jessica’s flying back to San Diego on Thursday,” Joe continued. “Marie’s going to be heartbroken, even though she knew it was coming eventually, but I told her we’d finally break down and get her one of those smartphones. Waste of money if you ask me, but they can send text messages to each other and do that video chat thing.”

  She was leaving Thursday. She hadn’t mentioned that to him, either. He knew she’d go soon, since her company was having its Christmas party, but he hadn’t known which day. “I don’t think you have to worry about Jess not staying in touch. It’s meant a lot to her, getting to know you.”

  “We wish she didn’t live so damn far away.”

  “I know, but I bet she’ll fly out a few times a year to visit. If not more.”

  “I hope so. It’s been just Marie and I for so long, so it’s nice to have family. Even if Davey had come back, it would’ve been hard to forgive him for the hell he’s put his mother through. But Jessica, she’s not like him. And we’re both so thankful to have her now, even if we won’t get to see her all the time. It’s nice knowing we have somebody good out there in the world with our name.”

  Rick had no doubt the Broussards would be changing their wills any day, if they hadn’t already started the process, and he didn’t blame them a bit. They were the kind of people who would have left the house and any money they had to their son simply because he was their son. But knowing they’d be gifting their property to Jessica would make them much happier.

  “What do you suppose this went to?” Joe asked, holding up an oddly shaped chunk of metal.

  Rick took it from him to give it a closer look. “I have no idea.”

  He and Joe ended up killing almost two hours in the garage, looking through containers and sorting piles of junk. They didn’t really accomplish anything, but sometimes that wasn’t the point. Especially on a lazy, early winter Sunday. The days of digging out hydrants, snow-related accidents, clearing roofs and extra shifts were right around the corner. Spending a couple of hours with a good friend, sorting bolts and talking about everything and nothing was a good way to relax.

  Of course he managed to get dirty enough so when it was time to call it quits, he needed a shower. After stripping down and tossing his dirty clothes in the hamper, Rick turned on the shower and set it to pretty damn hot. The shower was huge, as was the entire master bathroom because Joe and Marie had given him the freedom to remodel however he wanted as long as he paid for it. And being a big guy who’d gone from growing up in a house with a small shower to renting an apartment with an even smaller shower, the bathroom was where he’d spent the most money.

  He let the hot water beat against his skin for a couple of minutes before grabbing the shampoo and scrubbing his hair. Even as his muscles relaxed, his mind turned to Jess and the fact she’d be leaving Thursday. In just a few days, she’d be getting on a plane to San Diego and he didn’t know when—or really even if—she’d be back.

  Last night had almost gotten the better of him. When he’d taken her arm to keep her from falling, he should have let go as soon as she was steady and kept his hands to himself. But they’d just kind of kept talking and kept walking, and he liked the contact. Then she’d gotten flirty, bumping his shoulder because he was being funny, and he’d thought about kissing her.

  He thought about kissing her a lot. Her mouth fascinated him, and he could only imagine how it would feel to press his lips against hers. The feel of her hair tangled in his fingers. The softness of her skin.

  After rinsing the shampoo out of his hair, Rick grabbed the bar of soap and lathered up. He scrubbed hard at his arms, which he’d managed to get greasy as well as grimy, and then rinsed the soap away. It wasn’t so easy to push the image of Jessica away, though, and he found himself wishing she was in the shower with him. It was definitely built for two.

  Rick braced one hand against the tile wall and closed the fingers of his other hand around his dick as he imagined the hot water running down her naked body. The steam would make the hair around her face damp and her skin would be tender and flushed. He’d kiss her while pressing her back against the tiles, and he didn’t have to imagine that. He knew how her mouth felt and how she tasted. But now, in his mind, he slid his hand between her legs.

  Picturing her blue eyes widening, he wondered if she’d be shy and whisper his name. Or maybe she’d be bold and demanding, her head thrown back with abandon.

  Stroking himself harder, he imagined the feel of her slick, hot flesh under his palm. The sounds she’d make when he slid his fingers over her clit. Her nipples would be hard in his mouth, and he’d suck each in turn until she squirmed against his hand. He’d whisper in her ear, telling her all the things he was going to do to her, while she came. And then, when the last shudder faded away, he’d turn her around and have her brace her hands against the tile as he slowly eased his cock into her.

  With a groan, Rick came, his dick pulsing in his hand as he stroked and the fantasy faded. Then he leaned his forehead against the shower wall and closed his eyes. The relief would be temporary, he knew. He wanted the real Jessica, naked and under him, and jerking off to imaginary her wasn’t enough anymore.

  * * *

  After climbing the two flights of exterior stairs to Rick’s small deck, Jessica raised her fist to knock on his glass sliding door, only to realize she didn’t have to knock. She could see him, and he was looking straight at her.

  He was also almost naked.

  Obviously fresh out of the shower, he had a towel wrapped around his waist, but there was plenty of skin for her to look at. And look she did. She wasn’t sure
if it was his job or the gym or both, but his body was so well toned he could be on a magazine cover. Not so ripped it would be a vanity point, but he was definitely in shape.

  And his calves were almost as impressive as his biceps. That was probably from going up and down the huge ladder on his truck and climbing stairs, but she’d never really noticed a man’s legs before. She certainly noticed his.

  Whose bright idea had it been for them to put an end to any making out when they’d only gotten as far as kissing?

  Then she realized he was waving her in and felt stupid. Gawking at the man through his door wasn’t one of her finer moments and she hoped he’d let it go without commenting. She opened the door and stepped inside, sliding it closed behind her.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

  “Marie sent me up to ask you for...a thing.”

  “A thing?” He grinned. “A specific thing, or can I just grab whatever’s at hand and give it to you?”

  She sighed and held up her hands in defeat. “Look, you know you’re an attractive guy. You know I like kissing you but we’re not doing that anymore. You also know you’re only wearing a towel and you smell delicious. I don’t think you need to mock a woman for forgetting what she came here for.”

  “I wasn’t mocking you. Just clarifying whether or not any old thing would do.”

  “Who takes showers at this time of day, anyway?”

  “People who get dirty digging around in decades’ worth of crap in the garage.”

  She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Forget it. You can take showers whenever you want. Just bad timing on my part.”

  “Okay, to get back to the thing at hand, what was Marie doing when she asked you to come up here?”

  “She was looking through a plastic box that had a bunch of recipes in... Oh! She said you borrowed her big slow cooker a few weeks ago and she wants to make a roast this week. It won’t fit in her everyday one.” She held up a hand. “I didn’t even know they came in different sizes or that there was such a thing as an everyday slow cooker.”

  “She bought a small one because she’s usually only cooking for the two of them and it’s mostly soups and stews. And she makes a mean chili.” He frowned in the direction of the kitchen, as if trying to remember where he’d left it. “Let me throw some clothes on and then I’ll dig it out for you.”

  “Okay.” She would have been more than happy to watch him rummage around his kitchen in just the towel, but she could imagine he might feel awkward. Especially if the towel slipped and ended up on the floor.

  Flushed, Jessica waited until he’d closed his bedroom door and then looked around the apartment. It had been remodeled at some point, far more recently than the downstairs, and she guessed he’d sunk his own money into it. It was as open concept as the old house’s structure allowed, with the living room area flowing naturally into the kitchen. He had a table and chairs set up near the slider, and everything was leather or chrome and glass. The kitchen island and countertops were a dark granite, and he had nice stainless steel appliances. There was a half bath off the kitchen, but she only saw one bedroom door. Considering the footprint of the house, it must be one hell of a master suite.

  There were two big bookcases in the living room, stuffed full of books, and some family pictures sat in frames on top of them. She guessed one of the photos was of Rick’s brother, along with a woman and two young boys taken on a boat. There was a strong resemblance between him, his brother and their dad, and his mom was pretty, too. She was smiling at the camera in one framed picture, with her husband’s arm around her and her two sons bookending them. Her pride was evident in her body language and expression, and Jessica sighed.

  She’d be lying if she said her mom abandoning her when she was little didn’t hurt. Usually it was a dull, barely there ache. But sometimes it was a gaping wound she knew would never heal. Even though she’d learned with age—and through multiple failed marriages on her father’s part—to accept that her mother had probably been leaving her father and not just her, she’d always wondered why she hadn’t fought for her. Even if she couldn’t handle full custody, she could have stuck around for visitations.

  As with his own parents, Jessica’s mother wasn’t a topic her father wanted to discuss. He’d claimed she was unstable and they were better off without her. But he’d said a lot of bad things about her grandparents, too, and now she knew better. Or at the very least, they weren’t the same people they’d been while raising their son. So maybe her dad was wrong about her mom, too.

  The big difference, as far as Jessica was concerned, was simple. Joe and Marie hadn’t fought to see her because they hadn’t known she existed. Her mother had known. She’d made a conscious choice to remove herself from Jessica’s life, and no amount of therapy or logical pep talks could ever make her understand.

  “You okay?”

  She jumped at the sound of Rick’s voice, since she hadn’t heard his bedroom door open. “What?”

  “You look lost in space, and that’s not a happy expression.”

  “I was just looking at your family pictures. You all look really happy. Is that your brother’s boat?”

  “It’s my dad’s, actually. But my brother uses it more than anybody else, I guess.”

  “I’ve been out on a boat a few times. It’s nice at first, and it can be relaxing, but then I get bored and want to go for a walk or something. That doesn’t work so well.”

  He chuckled, but his eyes remained serious. “I’m guessing boat envy didn’t put that sadness in your eyes.”

  “I never have sad eyes.”

  “Yeah, you do. Maybe you just don’t know it.”

  She turned back to the photos so he couldn’t see her face anymore. “Sometimes it’s hard seeing family pictures with such happy, obviously proud mothers. And then there’s the obvious reaction to seeing three generations smiling together. I guess that’s what families are supposed to look like.”

  “Families look a lot of different ways, and there’s no right or wrong or supposed to about any of them.”

  “Mine has always been just me and my father, and most of the time he seems more like my boss or a business partner. Nobody’s ever used a photo of us to sell picture frames, that’s for sure.”

  “I can turn them around if you want.”

  “You can’t be serious,” she said, turning to face him with an incredulous look. When she saw his face, she realized he definitely wasn’t serious and was simply trying to lighten the mood. Maybe he’d guessed she wasn’t used to people being able to see her emotions that way, and that was true. Nobody had ever told her she had sad eyes before.

  “Are you coming down for dinner tonight?” she asked, wanting to change the subject.

  He shook his head, and she felt a pang of disappointment. “I’m going to meet some of the guys tonight. I don’t usually eat with Joe and Marie, actually, even though it probably looks that way. I think having you around made all the meals into special occasions, so she kept inviting me.”

  “And you accepted so you could keep an eye on me.” She realized belatedly how that sounded and felt heat in her cheeks. “So you could make sure I’m not fleecing them out of all their money, I mean.”

  “I don’t think that. I mean, I think your job makes you more inclined to make decisions based on financial reasons and not their emotional well-being, but I don’t think you’d ever fleece anybody, never mind Joe and Marie.”

  She tilted her head. “You don’t think I can balance fiscal responsibility with their emotional well-being?”

  “I think you can, but it’s probably not your first instinct.” He walked to a cabinet in the kitchen and pulled out a slow cooker, which he set on the island. “Joe told me you set up a meeting with a real estate agent.”

  “Marie did, actually. And
she discussed it with him first.”

  “But you had a hand in it.”

  “They’re not listing it with her. She’s giving them a fair market value appraisal and that’s all unless they decide to move forward. How are they supposed to make informed decisions without determining the worth of their most valuable asset?” She walked over to the island. “Unless you’re worried about having to find a new place to live.”

  “I think we already had this conversation. I’m not worried about me. My only concern is Joe and Marie.”

  “Mine, too.” She picked up the slow cooker. “I’ll give this to Marie.”

  “Tell her I said thank you.” She nodded and was almost to the door when he spoke again. “Hey. You still going to watch the game with me tomorrow? I’ll order pizza.”

  Maybe if he was questioning her motives because he was a jerk, she’d reconsider. But it was hard to hold his concern for her grandparents against him, especially since she’d know he was still there for them when she left. Just as he’d been there for them before she arrived. “Of course. I’m looking forward to it.”

  He gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher, but that sent a sizzle through her body. “I am, too.”

  “Don’t look at me like that. We’re agreed we’re not moving in the direction that look wants me to go, remember?”

  “I remember. And I’m sure if I think long and hard enough, I can remember why we agreed to that.”

  For once, Jessica was grateful when she stepped outside and the cold air instantly chilled her body. Maybe if she left her window open, she’d actually get some sleep tonight.

  * * *

  Rick walked into Kincaid’s Pub, ready for a beer and a burger and maybe a few games of pool in the back room. Ashley was behind the bar tonight, and that meant Aidan probably wouldn’t show up. Lydia worked a lot of nights, so when she took off and he wasn’t at the station, he was with her.

  “Hey, Rick, where’s your girl?” Tommy bellowed from the back corner of the bar, and everybody turned to look at him.