Burning Up (Flirting With Fire Book 1)

by Jennifer Blackwood

  Sloane pulled up the app on her phone and clicked into a profile: @hotmamajenkins.

  What? A completely different account? What was her mom? Some undercover Real Housewives of Portland star?

  “Dear God.” She looked at her follower number, and her eyes bugged. “She has more followers than me.” And Olivia’s comment made so much sense now.

  “She’s popular. And funny, too. There’s apparently this hot tatted dude that’s been coming around the food truck when Andie is on shift. Their interactions are so cu—” Sloane stopped once she realized Erin’s glare. “Okay, I’ll shut up now.”

  “How did I not know about this?” It was like she had just been informed she’d been mispronouncing a student’s name for the entire year (which she had done once and felt awful).

  Sloane and Madison shrugged like this was common knowledge. How much had she missed since she’d been gone? She did the weekly phone calls with them. Okay, maybe that had fallen to the wayside during the school year and became every other week, but still. It felt like she didn’t know anyone anymore.

  She looked at the description below her mother’s picture. “Avid reader of the smutty stuff. Mama of three. I don’t mess around about peanut butter.” Erin put down the phone. “I’ve seen enough.”

  “She was live tweeting from when you pulled into the driveway.” Sloane put her hands up as if saying, Just putting that information out there ’cause I know you can’t resist.

  “Fine. Give it back to me.” She grabbed the phone and scrolled down.

  Here my girl comes. It’s been a while since she’s been on a date, you know.

  Oh, he’s getting out of the car. Opened the door for her. Good move, Jake! I like a man with manners.

  Plus, for all you reading this: he can cook, too! Swoonage factor at a ten, ladies.

  Bow chicka wow wow. I haven’t been kissed like that since . . . maybe I need to try that online dating thing.

  Hey, you’d better watch where those hands go, mister! That’s second date material.

  The last tweet was followed by a GIF of a little girl giving the stink eye while crushing a soda can.

  “Oh my God. My mom’s GIF game is strong.” Which was impressive, since she thought her mom barely knew how to text. She scrolled down farther, to a few days before she’d come back home.

  So excited to have my baby girl come home. Been gone for way too long. Miss her terribly. Off to BBB to spruce up her room.

  She shoved the phone back at Sloane. Guilt was a common emotion that spread through the Jenkins household faster than a case of norovirus. They’d been brought up Catholic, after all. But the healthy amount that had been instilled since childhood, one that urged her to dial her mom weekly and donate a few bucks toward people’s GoFundMe accounts, now bloomed in her stomach, churning the croissant and coffee from earlier.

  She glanced down at her computer screen and muttered under her breath.

  “What’s up?” Madison asked.

  “Need to head to my house for family dinner.” Maybe she’d talk to her mom about the social media posts. Maybe not.

  She hated that her relationship with her mother had become so strained. They used to be close.

  “Your house?” Madison quirked a brow.

  “It was a slip.” She focused her gaze on her coffee cup and took a sip. The longer she played the avoidance game with everyone, the better. At least until she figured out her whole life situation.

  “We’ll wear you down eventually,” said Sloane.

  Erin’s coffee bliss lasted all the way until she walked in the front door to her mom’s place. Now that Erin was home, her mother insisted that they start up their Thursday-night dinner tradition. Mandatory under penalty of being crushed under an ungodly amount of guilt.

  Her mother went balls to the wall for this dinner, even going so far as to using the table in the dining room reserved only for holidays. Never-used crystal glasses shimmered in the light behind the glass doors of the china cabinet, along with fine silver tucked away in pockets of velvet in the oak drawers. Nothing had changed in their home. The same painting of a sunset hung between the two windows, and a dent from when Reece had thrown Erin headfirst into the wall still marred the spot near the light switch. It was like this room was a time capsule, preserving everything from Erin’s childhood.

  Her mother rubbed her hands together, looking from Erin to Reece to Andie. “Three kids under one roof again and it’s not even a holiday. Dreams really do come true.”

  “Don’t lead poor Andie and Erin on, Mom. We all know I’m the favorite.” Reece took his place across from Erin.

  Her mom patted Reece on the shoulder as she sat down beside him. “Whatever you have to keep telling yourself so you can sleep at night.”

  Reece choked on his water. Erin hid her smile behind her napkin.

  “Oh, you just got burned by Mom!” Andie said.

  Her mom continued, a smirk twitching at her lips. “Just letting you all know that the doctor cleared me for work. I can go back to the truck starting tomorrow.”

  Happy dance for Erin. “I’ll still help out if you need me.” Plus, she wouldn’t turn her nose up at money.

  “I appreciate that.” Her mother speared a pea on her plate. “Have you talked to Jake since the other night?”

  Reece’s fork clattered to his plate. “Why would she be talking to Jake?”

  “They went on a date. If you would read my posts.”

  Picking up his fork, Reece sawed his piece of chicken Parmesan like the caveman he was and then brought a piece to his mouth. “Ma. Your posts traumatize the general public.”

  “Do not. People were really rooting for Erin and Jake.”

  “About that . . .” Erin trailed off. God, she hated confrontation with her family. She could think all the stabby thoughts and perfectly worded arguments she wanted, but when it came to the whole execution thing, it fizzled out before it could reach her tongue.

  “Just a word of advice—be careful with him,” Reece said.

  “The protective-brother thing has an age limit, ya know.” She twirled a forkful of spaghetti on her plate. She was just having a good time with him. Two people who could talk to each other. And yes, kiss.

  “Expires upon death.” Reece speared a piece of asparagus on his plate and scowled. Which wasn’t very different from his normal expression. He’d been especially grumpy lately after the bad breakup he’d had with Amber.

  “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be taking advice from someone whose bachelor pad is stocked solely with ketchup and beer.”

  He pointed his fork at her. “Ketchup is child’s play. I’ve upgraded to Frank’s.”

  “Let Erin have her fun. She’ll only be in town for a few more weeks,” her mother said.

  “The guy has a kid, Erin,” Reece said.

  “Yeah, so? Do kids suddenly make you undateable?” Erin asked.

  “Ruined my dateability,” Erin’s mom muttered.

  “Heard that!” all three said in unison.

  “It was one date. No need for anyone to freak out.” Erin definitely wasn’t freaking out. Nope. Not one bit. “Don’t worry, Reece. I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

  “What if you took a year off? You and Andie could work the truck,” her mom said. “And did you happen to apply to any of those schools I researched for you?”

  When Erin was in fifth grade, she’d needed a palatal separator because her mouth didn’t have enough space to fit all her adult teeth. Each morning, her mom would use a key to twist the lock in the middle, slowly widening her palate. Still one of the most painful things she’d ever experienced. Every time her mother asked her about her job, about staying here, about anything to do with home in general, it felt like it was just another turn of the key. Except this time, Erin didn’t have any space to spread out. She needed a place to fly.

  “I’ve got things handled on my own,” her sister bit out. Andie stuck out her tongue, but Erin didn’t miss t
he venom in her words. She’d been in a particularly bad mood this whole week.

  Their relationship hadn’t always been solid, but it seemed more strained than normal since she’d been home.

  “Maybe you could learn a thing or two from her.” Her mother’s normally cheery composure slipped, and she regarded Andie with a look of pure irritation.

  Whoa. What the heck was going on here?

  Andie’s shoulders curled, and she jabbed her fork into a pea. “I know. Erin is just so perfect. Maybe I should be just like her when I grow up.” She flipped her hair and pulled her lips into a fake smile.

  “That’s not what Mom meant, Andie,” Reece chimed in. “It’s hard to do anything without a degree nowadays.”

  Erin glanced from her mom to Andie, whose cheeks were flame red. She felt for her. When her family steamrolled like this, it solidified her reason for leaving. They were hurricane-force winds barreling through a city made out of sand.

  Andie’s gaze lasered in on Reece. “What a hypocrite. You don’t have a degree.” She turned her glare on her mother. “I don’t see you hounding him.”

  “That’s right. Reece is a lost cause. Mom’s come to terms,” Erin joked, trying to relieve some of the tension in the room. This was not how she’d expected their first dinner back together to go. She’d hoped that everyone would have waited to draw their mental daggers until after dessert.

  “Reece has picked his career. You’re nineteen. You have so much potential,” her mom said, ignoring Erin’s comment.

  “Right. I’m sorry I’m not living up to your expectations. I’m sorry I’m not Teacher Barbie or Firefighter Ken.” She flicked her hands, motioning to her body. “I’m just Screwup Andie. And for my next act, I’ll manage to disappoint the whole family from my room.” She pushed back from the table and threw her napkin on the table.

  Holy drama llama.

  Moments later, the door upstairs slammed. Her mom flinched. Reece stared at his plate.

  “I’m guessing the whole college discussion isn’t going the best?” Erin felt a little selfish but was glad the attention was finally off her for a moment.

  “I just don’t understand,” her mom said. “She had a full ride with the track scholarship.”

  It did seem odd that Andie would give that up, but she’d been so adamant her freshman year that she didn’t want to go to college, and then before she could even compete in the season opener for her track team, she’d packed up her bags and moved back home.

  “Who knows? We all do stupid stuff.” And she wasn’t so sure if getting involved with Jake crossed into that territory or not.

  They managed to make it through the rest of dinner without any theatrics, and after they were finished, she helped her mother with the dishes and crept to her room. Erin lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. But instead of being greeted with Justin Timberlake’s poster, it was the damn purple walls. She shouldn’t be irked about it. It wasn’t her room anymore. A piece of her childhood had been cut out and replaced by something out of a friggen Pottery Barn ad.

  A knock came from the other side of her door, and moments later, her mom slid into the room, clothes draped over her arm. “I did a little shopping and thought you could use some new outfits.”

  “Mom.”

  Another twist of the key. Except this one was around her neck, cutting off her air supply.

  “Just a few things. Some skirts, blouses. Stuff you’ll need for interviews around here,” she continued, oblivious to the inner freak-out going on in Erin’s head.

  “What do you mean, ‘around here’?” she asked.

  “Aren’t you going to apply to any of the ones I printed out for you?”

  “Wasn’t planning on it.” Erin had heard of white-coat syndrome, where patients’ blood pressures skyrocketed just by being around medical professionals. She wondered if there was a documented syndrome like that for nosy parents.

  She pushed herself up to her elbows. “I already have a wardrobe. One that’s suited me for the past few years. I appreciate what you’re doing, but this isn’t going to make me stay.” That nauseating feeling swept over her again. She hated disappointing her mom. She really did. Which was why she’d never confronted her, just kinda slipped away, hoping to go unnoticed. Not that that had worked very well when she’d gotten several frantic calls after she’d left a note that said she was moving to California. That certainly wouldn’t work now that she was under the same roof.

  “I just want you to know that we care about you so much. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know how to talk to you anymore.” Her voice wobbled. She sat down at the foot of Erin’s bed and gave her calf a light squeeze.

  “Mom.”

  “We’ve missed you. And I’m sorry if we’ve done something to push you away. That’s not what we wanted.”

  “I moved away because I needed to find myself.” She really didn’t want to admit that she’d moved away because of her family because that made her sound like a monster, and she couldn’t bear to hurt her mom in that way.

  “Did you?”

  “I don’t know.” Had she really found herself? Sure, she had her shit together, mostly. She’d held a steady job, had a master’s degree. On paper, she had it all. But something had been missing lately. Every time she went out with Alexis, it seemed more like a chore. She didn’t want to go to the same bars. She didn’t want to keep meeting the same type of guys.

  “You’re still young. I didn’t know what I wanted until I was thirty.”

  “Didn’t you have Reece and me by twenty-five?”

  She shrugged. “Sometimes when you have kids, you lose sight of who you are.”

  She wondered if Jake felt the same way. He’d changed so much from the time she’d been away, and she wondered if that was just him maturing or having the weight of Bailey on his shoulders.

  As if her mother could sense her thoughts, she added, “Jake’s a good man.”

  “How did you know I was thinking about him?”

  “Because you’ve always thought about him, even when you were younger. I saw the way you looked at him,” her mother said.

  “I just don’t know if I can be what he needs me to be,” she admitted. She didn’t know if she wanted to be that.

  “What do you think he needs?”

  “I don’t know. But I’m not sure that I’m ready to settle down. Jake and Bailey need stability.”

  “I think Jake knows better than anyone what he wants and needs.”

  Erin felt so small. She never thought she’d be back here coming to her mother for advice. At almost thirty, she thought that she was long past the age of needing this. And yet here she was, tears blurring her vision. “How am I even supposed to find a place to live if I can’t find a job?”

  Maybe that was her problem. She’d placed so much emphasis on being a teacher that that was an integral part of her personality. Without her job, she was missing a chunk of herself.

  “You stop that thinking right now. You’re my baby girl.” She grabbed Erin’s hand. “Just because you’ve been knocked back a step doesn’t mean your whole plan is crumbling. You’ll find something. There will be jobs. But maybe you need to focus on doing a little soul searching in the meantime.”

  Erin nodded. The lump in her throat grew, and her eyes burned.

  “But just know I have never been prouder. And you can stay here as long as you want.”

  “On one condition. No more clothes.”

  She lifted up her fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

  “And no more live tweeting about my dates.”

  Her mother smirked. “People love your romance. They keep asking for updates.”

  “Do you even know these people?” She didn’t like the thought of her love life out there for the rest of the world to see.

  “Sure. I blog with a lot of them.”

  “You blog?” Erin’s cheeks heated. She was so out of touch with her family. Something was definitely up with her sister. Her br
other was . . . well, Reece. And her mother had an alternate life she didn’t even know about.

  Maybe this trip home hadn’t been a bad thing. Maybe this was the opportunity she needed to mend things with her family. To prove that she wasn’t the same person she’d been when she sped off in her Jetta at eighteen.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jake scanned the contents of the Intimidator, checking that all the equipment was put back in its proper place from A shift.

  Blood kit.

  Air kit.

  Monitor.

  Simple tasks. He liked those. They droned out the shit storm that had been pouring down on his thoughts ever since he’d taken Erin out.

  He checked the chart on the wall by the door to the rec room. All the meds used last shift had been replaced. He double-checked. Never could be too sure.

  His mind started to slip back to Friday. The softness of Erin’s lips. The sounds she’d made, similar to when his fingers had been inside her. He fumbled with a vial of insulin.

  Three days later and he still hadn’t texted her back. Didn’t know if he should text her back. He didn’t like this, the whole overthinking thing. That was why he’d sworn off dating in the first place. It was just too damn confusing.

  He glanced at the med box one last time, silently inventorying everything.

  A hand clapped on his shoulder, and Jake gritted his teeth, trying not to lose count with his task.

  “Missed you the other night for burgers. Where were you? And don’t give that lame excuse that you were busy. We all know you just sit at home and watch your Matlock, old man,” Hollywood said.

  “That’s Murder, She Wrote to you, asshole. And no, I was out with a friend.” So he didn’t actually watch the show, but if this asshole was going to treat him like an old man, he’d play it up. Even if Jake was only a few years older than Cole was.

  “Your friend. She happen to have the same last name as another one of our firefighters?”

  That title—friend—sounded so wrong to Jake’s ears. Sure, they’d kissed. And talked. Hell, he’d done more talking in one night than he had in an entire month.

  Keep yourself guarded. You have more than yourself to think about.