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Up In Flames
Kira Sinclair


Once burned, twice shyLola Whittaker can't remember a time when she didn't want smokejumper Erik McKnight—those stormy grey eyes, that rock-hard bod. But once burned, twice shy, and Lola swore she would never make the same mistake again. But that won’t stop her from making a new one. Like getting into the wrong bunk and having the hottest night of her life–with Erik.Erik knows Lola will never forgive him for what happened that disastrous night six years ago – he sure as hell hasn’t forgiven himself. But when the woman he’s dreamed about every night since climbs into his bed, it’s impossible to turn her away.It’s just one night, right? Except now, Lola’s pregnant...







Once burned, twice shy

Lola Whittaker can’t remember a time when she didn’t want smoke jumper Erik McKnight—those stormy gray eyes, that rock-hard bod... But once burned, twice shy, and Lola swore she would never make the same mistake again. But that won’t stop her from making a new one. Like getting into the wrong bunk and having the hottest night of her life—with Erik.

Erik knows Lola will never forgive him for what happened that disastrous night six years ago—he sure as hell hasn’t forgiven himself. But when the woman he’s dreamed about every night since climbs into his bed, it’s impossible to turn her away.

It’s just one night, right? Except now Lola’s pregnant...


Were they ever going to be able to be in the same room together without striking sparks off each other?

Maybe Lola just needed to let go, give in and let fate take control.

“What exactly do you think is the right thing, Erik? Because I don’t know anymore. What I do know is that being this close to you and not having the right to touch you makes me ache.”

He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them. The heat that engulfed her left her skin feeling too tight to hold her in. “You always have the right to touch me, Lo. Any time. Any way.”

Reaching out, Lola pressed her hand against the hard planes of his chest. The heat of his skin burned straight through her. Cool droplets clung to him, sparkling in the sunlight. And she was done denying what she wanted.

Leaning forward, Lola ran her tongue across his skin, collecting the droplets and savoring the taste of him.

“Lola,” he groaned deep in his throat. The rumble of her name rolling off his tongue pulled any last resistance out from under her.

This was what she wanted. Erik was what she wanted.

And she was strong enough to take what was in front of her.

She’d worry about the aftermath later...


Dear Reader (#uf6b80eb7-f6f3-58fb-ba12-7c6477a93032),

I’m so lucky to count several firefighters among my personal friends. They’re the most honorable, dedicated and brave men and women I’ve ever met. As you can imagine, it was easy to envision a hero that possessed these same qualities. A man no one—including my heroine—could help but fall for...twice.

Erik McKnight definitely fits that bill, risking his own life over and over to save others. So what if he’s got a reckless streak and a guilty conscience no sacrifice can seem to assuage? That is, until he returns home and finally confronts the chain of events that cost him everything—including the only woman he’s ever loved.

In the course of writing Up in Flames I had the honor of accompanying several local firefighters on a ride-along. The guys were more than willing to share all the aspects of their job, giving me an amazing glimpse into the reality of their lives. We won’t talk about how the jacket absolutely swallowed me whole! Or how inadequate I felt watching them move like a well-oiled machine to help someone with a serious medical issue. But we can talk about how that experience solidified for me just how much we all owe these men and women who sacrifice time from their families in order to protect others.

I’ve been privileged over the past few years to support a charity that provides financial support to local firefighters who are sick or injured. If you’d like to donate, please feel free to visit www.imathlete.com/donate/brothersforlifebenefitfund (http://www.imathlete.com/donate/brothersforlifebenefitfund).

I hope you enjoy reading Erik and Lola’s story! I’d love to hear from you at kirasinclair.com (http://www.kirasinclair.com), or come chat with me on Twitter, @KiraSinclair (https://twitter.com/KiraSinclair).

Best wishes,

Kira


Up in Flames

Kira Sinclair






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


KIRA SINCLAIR writes emotional, passionate contemporary romances. A double winner of the National Readers’ Choice Award, her first foray into writing fiction was for a high school English assignment. Nothing could dampen her enthusiasm...not even being forced to read the love story aloud to the class. Writing about sexy heroes and strong women has always excited her. She lives with her two beautiful daughters in North Alabama. Kira loves to hear from readers at kirasinclair.com (http://www.kirasinclair.com).


I’d like to dedicate Up In Flames to all the men and women who serve the Decatur, Alabama, fire and rescue department, especially Brandon Strickland. Thank you all for your service and sacrifice.


Contents

Cover (#u6aa84245-3e11-5516-be8f-b23844bd5795)

Back Cover Text (#u5c4c28f3-0233-5988-a79e-41983e27c9df)

Introduction (#u44f0738c-91db-5f4c-a9a1-3592480e94fc)

Dear Reader (#uefc7e65f-fa5a-581b-a362-b31274ef226f)

Title Page (#u0da5da44-a249-5337-b68c-d6869c53bae2)

About the Author (#ub019cb6f-ee11-5379-9c1a-278bab9ba044)

Dedication (#ud6463027-a6dc-5a91-aae4-639105d51dea)

Chapter 1 (#u928439c1-175e-5a99-8a27-156325b829ac)

Chapter 2 (#u298681a6-4132-5c5e-9b9e-53cbf5cfe69d)

Chapter 3 (#u23483f31-ae52-5543-8ec9-8645eab917fd)

Chapter 4 (#udc0c0179-9e90-59e1-aee3-85552f91e706)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


1 (#uf6b80eb7-f6f3-58fb-ba12-7c6477a93032)

“LOOKING GOOD, as always, babe,” Sean said. Lola Whittaker frowned as he slung his arm around her waist, pulling her into the warmth of his body even as his fingers dipped dangerously close to her butt.

It was a familiar gesture, one that said he was comfortable touching her. Lola wished she felt the same. With a shake of her head, she dropped one hand from the camera she’d been holding up to her eye and used the easy excuse to direct his hand higher. “I’m working.”

What was wrong with her? Sean Morris was a good guy. Easygoing, intelligent, honorable. Sexy as hell in a boy next door kinda way. He’d asked her out several times over the past few months, and while her head said she should give him a chance...she’d never found a reason to say yes.

Considering he worked as a firefighter for her dad, she had two good reasons to say no.

Lola twisted her fingers into her worn camera strap. The camera he’d given her so many years ago. The one she couldn’t get rid of, no matter that she’d upgraded to a newer model at the studio. Whenever she took photographs just for herself, this was the camera she pulled out.

A good reminder why getting involved with Sean—or any firefighter—was a bad idea. She’d already messed with one and had the battle scars to prove it. She wasn’t ready to jump into something with another guy who embraced danger for a living, even for a noble cause.

“Get your hand away from my sister’s ass, you moron,” Colton drawled, punctuating his order with a smack across Sean’s arm.

Sean laughed good-naturedly, holding his hands up and backing slowly away. “I’ll just go sweet-talk a slice of cake from Mrs. Monahan.”

“You do that,” Colt grumbled. Her brother steered his wheelchair beside her, looking out over the group of people scattered across the park. The Memorial Day family picnic was a tradition, one her grandfather started. He’d been fire chief in Sweetheart, South Carolina, before her own dad had taken over twelve years ago.

Both of her sisters had come into town for the long weekend. Over by the tables, her older sister, Suzi, bustled to organize the casseroles, congealed salads and fixings that appeared at every Southern potluck. Her younger sister, Kayla, type A extraordinaire, was busy grouping the desserts by type. Heaven forbid that pies, cakes, brownies and cookies comingled.

Memories of her mom filling that role, organizing things in her quiet, authoritative way, reared up. A stab of pain accompanied the memory. It had been fourteen years since they’d lost her to a drunk driver, but the pain never seemed to go away. Lola had simply gotten used to living with that hole in her heart.

Her father, along with half the Sweetheart fire brigade, stood around the exceedingly huge grill. She wouldn’t have been surprised if several of them were grunting like cavemen as they stared at the obscene amount of sizzling meat.

Raising her camera again, Lola snapped a quick picture, somehow managing to capture the pride and contentment on her dad’s face. There was nothing he loved better than having all of his team gathered around him.

Wives and girlfriends clustered together, chatting and intermittently hollering at kids as they tore through the town park.

This was home. Family.

Lola had worked hard to find her place in the sleepy little town she loved so much. She was proud of the successful business she owned. Between graduation pictures, spring family portraits and wedding season, she’d barely had a weekend off in months. She loved, absolutely loved, what she did and was so lucky to be able to make a living at it.

So why had she felt so restless lately?

It was hard to put her finger on it, but even now, during the weekend that she looked forward to every year, she couldn’t shake her sense of disquiet. Not even the weight of a camera in her hand calmed her—and it had always calmed her before.

Frustrated with herself, Lola tried to refocus on the view through her lens. She walked several paces closer to the playground, crouching down to capture action shots of the Mitchell twins. At four, both boys were holy terrors, but adorable ones.

Spinning in place, Lola tracked across the gathered group, looking for other moments to capture.

“Sis, why don’t you put the camera away and enjoy the party?”

She was so used to the quiet whoosh of Colton’s tires across grass and gravel that she hadn’t even heard him follow her. But she should have known he wouldn’t be far behind.

He’d been her right hand for the past six years...ever since the accident. They’d always been close, two years apart, sandwiched between Suzi and Kayla, but working together had only strengthened the bond between them.

That and almost losing him.

“Try interacting with folks for a change instead of just watching through that camera of yours. Remember? I purposely left this weekend open so you could take a few days off. But in order for that to happen, you actually need to put down the camera.”

Lola breathed deeply and tried not to let her bad mood spill out over her big brother. He was just trying to be helpful, although this conversation was becoming increasingly frequent—not to mention increasingly annoying.

“I enjoy having a camera in my hand, Colt. You know that.”

“Sure, but every now and again you need to engage with people. You know, create your own memories instead of preserving other people’s.”

With a sigh, Lola cradled the camera in her palm and let it drop to her side. “Fine.” If for no other reason than to get him off her back, she walked to the parking lot. Popping the hatch on her small SUV, she carefully packed her camera back into the worn padded bag.

The sound of crunching gravel whispered behind her, but Lola ignored it. No doubt a late arrival to the festivities. Stepping back, she slammed the door shut, whirled around and barreled straight into a solid wall of muscle.

Her body reacted, shock and awareness crashing through her. Heavy hands gripped her shoulders, steadying her. Electricity crackled across her skin.

A lump formed in her throat. She recognized him long before her gaze could travel up to take in his face. But she knew. Her body remembered. Reacted.

All too much.

Slowly Lola’s gaze tracked up from the center of a wide chest, over unbelievably rounded shoulders, up the long column of a thick throat to the eyes that still haunted her dreams—and her nightmares.

Those familiar smoky grays stared back at her, somber and searching. The impact of him was unexpected. Heat erupted across her skin, radiating out from where he held her like fire consuming paper. The few other times she’d seen him over the years, she’d been prepared. Knew Erik was in town.

Today she wasn’t ready. Her mouth was bone dry. So many emotions careened through her. She had about as much control as a runaway car in the middle of an action movie. Which pissed her off.

Correction—the man touching her like he still had the right to pissed her off.

Jerking away from him, Lola sucked in a harsh breath.

“Lola. It’s good to see you.”

“Erik. I can’t say the same.”

That wasn’t strictly true. Because even as anger—anger she’d been harboring for the last six years—burst through her, she couldn’t stop her gaze from ripping down his body. Cataloging the differences and ensuring herself he was whole and safe.

He was bigger—pure muscle. Considering the work he did now, that was no surprise. Smoke jumping wasn’t for weaklings. It was, however, for daredevils and adrenaline junkies. Erik McKnight was both.

Hurt flashed through his eyes but was gone before she could even blink. Rocking back on his heels, he stuffed both hands into his jeans pockets. “I’m sorry you still feel that way.”

Wow, so he’d finally issued her an apology. Hardly for the right reasons, though.

“What are you doing here?”

“Didn’t your dad or Colt tell you?”

No, obviously they hadn’t. But her anger now had a new direction, and the minute she was finished here they were both going to get a serious tongue lashing. The men in her life were all oblivious morons.

“I’m—” his gaze pulled away, focusing on the sky behind her “—taking a couple months off.”

There was a story there. Six years ago she would have asked for an explanation. Today she didn’t want to care, so she kept her mouth shut.

The smile he flashed her was without any of the humor that usually lit his face. “Came home to spend some time with Mom. Your dad’s letting me pick up some shifts at the station.”

Oh, goody.

Lola nodded, because what else was she supposed to do? “Well, good luck with that.” Hooking her thumb over her shoulder, she said, “I’m just gonna go...”

“...do anything that gets you far away from me.”

“You said it, not me.”

“That doesn’t make it untrue.”

She shrugged. He wasn’t wrong, but her mother had raised her to be too polite to say so.

Putting one foot behind the other, she slowly backed away a short distance before he said, “You look good, Lola. I... I really am glad we ran into each other.”

Was he serious? Lola stared at him for several seconds, searching his face before she realized that he was. Which made the anger bubbling up inside her finally burst free.

“Did you take a hit to the head, Erik? You act like I haven’t been right here for the past six years, exactly where you left me when you ran away. Ran away when my brother was lying in a hospital bed, broken and bleeding.”

“Because I put him there.” Erik’s gruff voice whispered over her, a swell of words that made her insides quake with the memories of those horrible days following Colt’s accident.

“You’re right. You did.” The accusation she’d wanted to scream at him for so long fell between them like a whisper through a quiet church.

But she didn’t feel any better. In fact, the ache in her chest felt worse.

“That, right there, is why I left. I could see it every time you looked at me.”

“See what?”

“Blame.” His stark expression ripped through her. And she’d be lying if she didn’t acknowledge the small part of her that wanted to reach out to him and offer him comfort.

But he was right. She did blame him. For so many things.

A blast of childlike laughter startled her as a couple of kids darted through the corner of the parking lot several feet away.

No, she wasn’t having this conversation here, now. It wasn’t the time.

“Whatever.” Lola started to take a step back again. “It’s ancient history and no longer matters.”

“Lo.” Sean walked up next to her, startling her as he flung an arm around her waist again. This time, she didn’t correct him when his fingers swept dangerously close to her ass.

Erik’s gaze narrowed, taking in the familiarity and comfort of Sean’s embrace. She couldn’t help delighting in his reaction.

But mostly she just wanted this encounter to end.

“I saved you a steak, but I can’t fend off the vultures forever.”

“Great,” she said, looking up into his open expression.

Sean flashed her a smile, understanding and concern running beneath the surface. He squeezed at her hip, reassurance she didn’t need but appreciated. Why couldn’t she want him?

Holding out his other hand, Sean waited for Erik to shake it. “Erik, good to see you back, man. Thanks for picking up that shift for me. I really appreciate it.”

Without waiting for a response, Sean swung them around, leading her in the direction of the pavilion. “Thanks,” she murmured.

“Anything you need, beautiful. I’m your guy.”

God, why couldn’t that be true? Even now, she could feel the tingle of energy crackling across her skin. The fine hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end. Not because Sean was touching her, but because she could feel Erik’s gaze raking down her spine.

He’d always had that effect on her. On her body. Lola couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t wanted him. From the moment she’d discovered that boys were beautiful instead of gross, Erik McKnight had been the source of all her fantasies.

And apparently, not even Erik stomping on her heart was enough to halt her bone-deep reaction.

Lola fought the urge to glance back over her shoulder. Nope, she was stronger than that.

Or she wanted to be, because her body was still in a riot, even from the brief physical contact of his hard chest and muscled thighs.

Damn him for making her ache in a way no one else ever had.

* * *

“HERE, I THINK you need this.” A day after running into Erik, Hope Harper plunked a shot glass down onto the table in front of Lola, spilling the amber liquid.

She wasn’t wrong. “I shouldn’t.”

“Seriously, Lola, every girl deserves the numbness of alcohol when the ex unexpectedly shows up,” Tatum Huntley drawled. She’d know, considering not long ago her husband returned from the dead after three years.

Picking up the glass, Lola took a deep breath, slammed the drink back and came up sputtering.

“Holy shit. I thought that was rum or something. Why would you give me cinnamon whiskey?”

Lexi Newcomb plopped back into her seat across the table. “I thought you liked cinnamon.”

Lola did, but not when she wasn’t expecting that kind of burn.

Looking at the women surrounding her, she was grateful that the minute she’d called on her friends they’d dropped everything to come ply her with alcohol and provide sound advice.

She definitely needed both right now.

“So, you literally turned around and ran straight into him?”

Lola wiped her hands down her face, hoping to erase the memory with the gesture. It didn’t work. But her body was starting to feel warm—even warmer than memories of Erik usually left her—and some of the tension she’d been fighting since yesterday was easing out of her muscles.

“Yeah. Sean rescued me, not that I needed rescuing.”

“Of course not,” Hope said, patting her hand.

“Sean, huh?” The speculative look that Tatum passed across the table didn’t do much to settle Lola’s nerves.

“Nope, don’t go there.”

Easing back in her chair, her friend crossed her arms over her chest and raised a single eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because the last thing I need is to encourage Sean. He’s been trying to get me into bed for months.”

“And remind me, why have you resisted?” Tatum asked. “He’s hot, has a reputation for knowing exactly what he’s doing in the bedroom, and you haven’t exactly been burning up the sheets lately.”

“Or ever,” Willow Warwick tacked on in her soft way. That didn’t quite kill Lola’s twinge of embarrassment and annoyance—at herself. Her friends weren’t wrong.

“We’re not suggesting you become the Sweetheart slut, honey,” Lexi said. “But there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun now and again. A girl has needs.”

Yeah, right. That was easy for them to say. They all had amazing husbands who were perfectly capable of meeting every one of their needs. They didn’t remember how difficult it was to be single.

Lola looked around the table at the women staring earnestly back at her. Lexi she’d known almost all her life—their dads had been friends forever. Tatum had moved to Sweetheart several years ago. Lola had known Hope and Willow before, but they’d never been real friends.

Not until she’d moved back after college and opened her studio on Main Street, right down from Lexi’s, Willow’s and Tatum’s shops and the newspaper office where Hope worked. In the past few years, they’d become so close that it felt like these women had always been a part of her life.

They knew everything, which sometimes was a curse more than a blessing.

Tatum’s eyebrows beetled, her gaze swept across the table and, making a quick decision, she signaled their waitress for another round.

“No,” Lola protested when she appeared with their drinks.

But Tatum ignored her. “Trust me, you’re gonna need this,” she said, holding out the second shot to her. “Because I’m about to lay something on you.”

Lola stared at the glass for a couple of seconds, looked up into Tatum’s steady gaze and decided what the hell. She tossed it back, the fire of it flaming in her belly.

“When’s the last time you got laid? No, don’t answer that because I already know. It’s been months. Probably closer to a year. You need sex. To take the edge off. Especially with Erik back in town.”

Tatum aimed a pointed look at her. “Trust me when I say I understand how difficult it is to resist falling back into bed with someone you have history with.”

God, that was the last thing she needed right now. Even the thought of sleeping with Erik again sent heat straight through her. The problem was, the reaction was immediately chased by an icy cold that burned almost as much as the whiskey.

“Sean’s been dancing around you for months. And here’s the thing. He’s safe. Everyone knows he doesn’t do permanent.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“I’m suggesting that you fuck his brains out and take the edge off so you’re not a lit fuse on a firework ready to explode every time you run into Erik. You know Erik’s going to be working at the fire station—you’re bound to see him. You can’t avoid him altogether.”

She could sure try. And maybe it was the two shots of whiskey talking—on top of the two beers she’d had before her friends decided she needed the hard stuff—but the idea of jumping Sean didn’t sound completely asinine.

In fact, it sounded...perfect. Damn, she needed to get laid. Ever since running into Erik yesterday, her body had been a riot of reactions and nerves. And God knew that option wasn’t any option at all.

She was not sleeping with Erik again. Period.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t attracted to Sean. She was. Who wouldn’t be? He was fit, funny and sexy as hell. She just wasn’t interested in anything deep with a guy who ran into burning buildings for a living.

If she was honest and up front with him about what this was, and what it wasn’t...

The fire that had rolled into her belly along with the shots started to spread a pleasant warmth through her body.

Slowly Lola said, “Sean’s working tonight.” A plan began to form in her head. Lola had always been a woman of action. Once she made up her mind, she rarely saw any reason to delay executing.

Tatum’s eyebrows shot up and a wicked smile twisted her mouth.

Hope said, “You’ve had a couple drinks, Lola. Are you sure you want to do this now?”

She shook her head, the room moving a little. “Why not? I mean, I don’t necessarily need the liquid courage, but it can’t hurt. Especially for what I’ve got in mind.”

Pushing her chair back, Lola barely heard the loud scrape of legs against the wooden floor. “One of you ladies mind dropping me at the station?”

“You’re sure?” Willow asked, staring up at her.

Lola nodded. “I need to do this.” She needed to exorcise thoughts of Erik from her head—and memories of him from her body. The girls were right. She needed to take the edge off before she did something really stupid. It was going to be a long few weeks if she didn’t.

Hope drove her to the front of the station. She offered to walk inside with her, but Lola refused. The station had been her second home all her life. She was comfortable there. Comfortable with the guys.

Although, it was late, creeping toward midnight, so most likely everyone would be catching some sleep.

The heat of the day had faded, and the pleasant breeze actually made her a little chilly. Wrapping her arms around her waist, Lola hugged herself. She tipped her head backward, taking in the brilliant stars shining through the black canvas of sky.

The world spun. Oh, maybe tipping her head back wasn’t such a good idea.

She slipped into the station, registering that the engine sat silent, doors open and waiting, behind the huge rolling glass door. All the lights were out, except the few they kept burning around the clock.

Lola tiptoed down the hall toward the honeycomb of rooms the guys used on shift. She’d been here a million times, even occasionally in the middle of the night, when she was younger and visiting her father. When she got older it was to see Colt or Erik.

Nope, she wasn’t thinking about him tonight. This was about exorcising Erik from her body and mind, not taking a stroll down memory lane.

Each shift was made up of four positions, each with a separate room, several beds filling the space so that every guy had his own whenever he was on. They all had lockers for their belongings. Despite the close quarters, she knew from personal experience that the rooms were surprisingly soundproof.

Which was a good thing, considering what she planned.

Lola paused outside Sean’s room. Butterflies twisted through her belly. Or maybe that was the whiskey.

Either way, now that she was here, she was determined to see this through.

Standing at the doorway, Lola began to strip, letting her clothes drop softly to the floor. She stopped at her bra and panties, her bravado only carrying her so far.

She could just see the outline of his long body beneath the thin sheet. Lola paused at the edge of the bed.

Should she wake him up now, or crawl in with him first?

Deciding she was in for a penny, in for a pound, Lola reached for the sheet. His back was to her, naked, moonlight streaming across all his rippling muscles and broad shoulders.

Dropping down onto the mattress, Lola snuggled up against him. She ran her fingers down the slope of his waist. Mmm, yummy. A buzz she’d never experienced with him before melted into her bloodstream. Maybe this was going to be better than she’d anticipated.

Pressing her mouth to the curve of his neck, she murmured, “I need you to touch me. Right now.”

Beneath her hands, he stirred. His massive body shifted, rolled, and suddenly Lola found herself flat on her back, staring up into sleepy, half-lidded, gorgeous gray eyes.

Oh, shit. Sean did not have gray eyes.


2 (#uf6b80eb7-f6f3-58fb-ba12-7c6477a93032)

ERIK HAD NO idea what the hell was going on. He’d been sound asleep one minute and had a warm, very willing woman pressed against him the next.

Used to going from zero to a thousand in the blink of an eye thanks to his job, Erik was absolutely, positively lucid as he rolled. Somewhere in the middle of the maneuver his brain kicked in and he knew the woman in his bed was Lola.

He recognized the feel of her. Her unique scent, something citrus with a spicy undertone. A brush of cinnamon now that had never been there before.

Even after six years, every detail about this woman was etched into his brain...right along with the ever present need for more of her.

So his body reacted, going stone hard in a split second. His burgeoning erection nestled between the soft heat of her thighs. Somehow he managed to bite back the groan climbing up his throat.

“What the hell?” he growled, his voice rough with sleep.

Even through the heavy darkness, Lola stared up at him with those rich brown eyes that had always had the ability to slam through him. Her face was so damn expressive.

And right now her expression was hazy and hot. She was as turned on as he was. Which wasn’t helping. Her chest rose and fell on short breaths and her skin... God, touching her burned.

Involuntarily, his hips pulsed against her, rubbing his throbbing flesh into the cradle of her thighs. And Erik realized she was almost completely naked.

Miles of her silky, honey-toned skin spread out, just begging for him to taste her.

He wanted her. Needed her. Had missed her so much. But he was also wary and still reeling from the things she’d said yesterday. All true, but still...

Fingers tangled in her long, dark hair, Erik said, “A day ago you were condemning me, and now you’re crawling into my bed half-naked? What gives, Lola?”

Her expression morphed, shuttered. Her gaze darted over his shoulder, focusing on something other than him. He didn’t like that at all.

Lola shifted, this time not to get closer, but to slip away.

“Oh, no you don’t.” His fingers tightened, pulling her gaze back on his. “You’re the one who climbed into my bed. I’m keeping you here until you explain what the hell is going on.”

Tension tightened her body for several seconds before everything inside her just...relaxed, and she sank deeper into the mattress beneath the weight of his body.

“Nothing, Erik. Let me go.”

He should. Deep down, Erik knew it. But the feel of her...having her in his bed again after all these years...

Softly his fingers untangled from her hair and trailed across the silky smooth skin of her cheek and jaw. Touching her was the most amazing form of torture. The kick of awareness and need would have brought him to his knees if he was upright.

This woman had always had the ability to cut straight through him. He’d wanted her since he was seventeen. It had taken him almost a year to convince her to go out with him. To look at him as something other than her big brother’s best friend.

In those months he’d done everything he could to show her he was serious and not just looking for something quick and easy. And the day she’d finally agreed to go out with him...he’d never forget the powerful, joyful feeling that had swept through him. Or the delight and wonder in her expression when she’d opened the box to find the camera he’d saved six months to buy her. The extra hours he’d worked had been totally worth it.

He hadn’t given her the gift just in the hopes of breaking through her defenses. He understood the reasons she’d resisted, but he’d always known they’d be amazing together.

At seventeen he’d been sure Lola Whittaker was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And up until the day he’d almost killed her brother, that had continued to be the plan.

So, yes, he should listen and let her go.

But he couldn’t. He might have left, but he’d never let her go in his heart. Not really. Lola had haunted him for six years. He’d done the right thing once. Apparently he wasn’t strong enough to do it again.

“I can’t,” he whispered right before his mouth claimed hers.

She stiffened, but the reaction lasted only a handful of seconds before she gripped his shoulders and pulled him closer. A sound leaked out of her throat, a cross between a groan and relief.

At a single swipe of his tongue across her lips, she parted her mouth and let him in. God, she tasted just like he remembered. Spearing his tongue deep inside her mouth, he stroked against her own silky tongue.

She sucked and nipped. Chased after him when he tried to pull away. “Easy, baby,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Her legs tangled with his, hands chasing urgently over hot skin. She was just as frantic for him, which settled something deep inside him.

Erik pulled back, needing to look at her. Take her in. See her again. His gaze scraped down her lush body, all golden skin and compact muscle. God, she was gorgeous. And he wasn’t just talking about the outside.

Lola had always intrigued him. Even as a kid, her confidence and determination were enviable and contagious. She knew who she was and what she wanted. From the outside looking in, he didn’t think she’d ever faltered or questioned her own path.

He was someone who always questioned who he was, where he was going and what his purpose was, so her attitude had been like a shining beacon, pulling him in.

Lola, eyes half-lidded and sparkling with promise, arched up. Reaching behind herself, she popped the clasp of her bra open. Shaking the straps down her arms, she tossed the thing to the floor.

Just as he’d remembered, even her breasts were that warm, golden tone. He wanted to run his tongue over every inch of her skin, breathe her in. Her dark, dusky nipples puckered hard, begging him to touch and taste.

She squirmed beneath his gaze, a flash of unease crossing her expression. “Don’t,” he whispered. Erik didn’t think he could take it if she changed her mind. Not now.

“I don’t do reckless,” she murmured. And Erik knew just how true that statement was. Losing her mom so suddenly, living with her remaining parent risking his life every night...and then falling for Erik even after he started living the same life. That fear she’d kept bottled up had made her cautious, not that he blamed her.

Colt’s accident had surely made her even more so.

His life, on the other hand, was nothing but reckless.

Erik shifted, ready to climb out of bed even though it was the last thing he really wanted.

But Lola’s grip on him tightened, holding him in place. “Tonight I’m stepping outside my comfort zone,” she whispered. “You walked away without giving me anything, Erik. Give me this.”

Her words lanced through him, mixing pain into the pleasure that swamped his body. But he couldn’t tell her no. Had never been able to tell her no. Which was why he’d texted that he was leaving—because he knew if he’d looked in her eyes and she’d asked him to stay, he would have.

The thought of watching the love she’d felt for him morph into accusation and loathing—blame he’d rightly deserved replacing everything they once shared—had nearly killed him.

Tomorrow they’d deal with whatever came next. Right now he just planned on loving her.

Her hips shifted beneath him, rubbing the moist heat of her sex over his throbbing erection. This time, Erik didn’t bother trying to bite back the groan that twisted through him. Although he did smother it when he wrapped his lips around the irresistible flesh of her breast.

He sucked hard and then smoothed the flat of his tongue against the tight peak. Scraping his teeth softly up, he stopped, gently holding her nipple prisoner...and then blew. She writhed beneath him, her leg wrapping high on his hip.

“You were always so responsive,” he growled, dragging his mouth, tongue and teeth over every inch he could reach.

“Only with you,” she breathed.

A possessive sense of wonder slammed through him. His. Lola had always been his. But that possessiveness came with a dark edge, because while her statement made him feel powerful, it also made it glaringly obvious that he hadn’t been the only man to touch her like this.

He had no right for that to piss him off. And yet it did. She’d been a virgin when they’d come together. That had meant something to both of them.

Dammit, this was not the time or place for those thoughts.

Scooting down the bed, he pushed the memories away with the need to put his mouth on her and make her whimper.

Kneeling between her spread thighs, Erik hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and slid them down her legs.

“Look how wet you are. For me,” he murmured, swiping a finger through the dripping evidence of her arousal. She moaned, her hips chasing after him.

“Please, Erik. Please.”

“You’re so pretty when you beg, Lola.”

Her feet flat on the bed, she bucked up. Her sex was pink and swollen. Pulsing with arousal. The scent of her made him dizzy.

Sweeping in, Erik ran his tongue up her slit, letting the taste of her burst through his mouth. Salty, with a tang he wanted more of.

Finding her clit, he circled around it over and over again, never quite touching it, until her body was strung so tight he thought she might break. And she whimpered again. Only then did he stroke across the tight bundle of nerves.

Her head thrashed back and forth against his pillow. Plunging two fingers deep inside her wet heat, Erik increased the onslaught, drowning in the need to feel her come apart against his mouth.

Her release came on a keening cry. He’d hear about that in the morning from the other guys, but at the moment he didn’t give a good goddamn. Not when her body was clamping hard around his fingers and the gush of her orgasm was filling his mouth.

He worked her through the release, pulling out every last moment of pleasure he could give her. Until she went lax, her body melting into a puddle.

He stroked a hand down her torso, enjoying the way she pushed up into his caress, even with her eyes screwed shut.

“Holy crap,” she whispered, her voice scratchy from screaming.

“I’m not nearly done with you, angel,” he promised, pushing her tangled hair from her face.

Grabbing his wallet off the top of the table beside them, he fished out the condom he kept in there. Shedding his sweats, he started to roll the condom over his throbbing erection, but she pulled his hands away.

“Let me.”

Taking the ring of latex from him, Lola placed it over his head and with slow, torturous movements pushed it down to cover his length. She stayed there once he was covered, stroking up and down in a way that had breath hissing through his clenched teeth.

“I am not going off in your hand, Lola. That’s not enough for me. I want all of you.”

Her eyes flashed. “You always have. Greedy man.”

Oh, she had no idea.

Hooking his arms beneath her knees, Erik moved between her thighs, positioned himself at her opening, and pressed forward.

He pulsed, pushing in a little at a time, both because he didn’t want to hurt her and because it felt so damn good. He wanted to savor this moment, draw it out as long as he could.

But Lola wasn’t content with that. Her body was already flushing with renewed arousal. Hips matching his. Fingers digging into his ass. She pulled him down to her at the same time she arched up, finally taking all of him.

God, they fit together so well. Always had. He’d never found this with anyone else, and God knew for the first few years he’d tried. But attempting to erase the need for her with other women had been stupid and disappointing.

Because no one could ever measure up.

That was his last coherent thought, because instinct and the red haze of lust took over. He found a rhythm, a familiar one they’d indulged in many times before.

Their mouths and hands raced across sweat-slicked skin. The orgasm built steadily, the pressure of release beckoning him just to let go. But after years of waking up from a sound sleep with memories of Lola leaving him sweaty and hard, he wasn’t ready for this to end.

This time, Erik smothered her cry with his mouth, taking even that for himself. The tight grip of her sex sent him careening over the edge. His own orgasm broke across him, consuming everything but the pleasure they’d always found together.

In that vulnerable moment, Erik couldn’t stop himself from letting the dam of emotion break free. Everything he’d locked away six years ago rolled over him, a tsunami full of debris and danger.

Realizing too late what a bad idea this was, Erik collapsed onto the bed beside her.

Their labored breaths mingled, harsh in the quiet night. Now that the need had been met, everything else was taking over. The anger and guilt he’d harbored earlier rushed in to steal the pleasure.

Beside him, Lola stirred. Not to roll into him like a lover, but to slip from his bed and reach for her panties on the floor.

And the whole damn mess just got better when he pushed out of bed and reached for the condom to dispose of it. The thing had broken.

With a giant curse, Erik slammed his hand down on the bedside table.

Lola jumped. “What the hell?”

Spinning to look at her, he snatched the busted sleeve of latex from his body and held it up for her to see.

Her eyes went wide with panic.

“Are you on the pill?”

“No.” He watched her eyes flash with trepidation. “The timing’s close, but I think we should be okay. Are you clean?”

That pissed him off even more. Not because she’d asked—it was a valid question. But because there was a time it wouldn’t have been a question at all. It reminded him that she had history he knew nothing about, too. “Why do you think the condom broke? I haven’t slept with anyone in over a year. I can’t remember how long the thing’s been in there.”

“And you’re just now thinking about this?” Her tone of incredulity scraped down his spine.

“I was a little preoccupied with other things at the time, Lola. I didn’t expect to wake up with a naked, willing woman in my bed tonight.”

Which reminded him, now that they weren’t distracted by hormones and history, to ask what had sent her to his bed.

“What changed, Lola? Why did you come to me tonight?”

A grimace twisted her face. She looked away, crossed her arms over her heavy breasts and then speared him with a level gaze. He knew he wasn’t going to like whatever she had to say.

“I wasn’t coming to see you, Erik. I was looking for someone else.”

* * *

“OH, I DEFINITELY got screwed.” In more ways than one.

For the second night in a row, Lola found herself at a bar table with her girls clustered around her for moral support.

Only this time she’d insisted on nothing but water. Those damn shots had gotten her into enough trouble already.

No, that wasn’t fair. She’d been tipsy, but she’d been fully aware of what she was doing. By the time she realized she’d crawled into Erik’s bed instead of Sean’s, her libido had taken control and started making the decisions.

Groaning, she said, “I just...couldn’t stop.” And then dropped her head onto that table. Because hiding would definitely make everything better.

Tatum snorted. Hope’s soothing hand rubbed down her spine. And some blessed soul plopped a brownie onto the table in front of her. The sweet scent of chocolate should have tempted her at least to look up. It didn’t.

“It was like no time had passed. Forget how reckless he is. How he nearly got my brother killed. Or the way he just left, breaking up with me by text.” She raised her head, looking around the table. “Text! After dating for five years.”

What was wrong with her? Six years later she was still so pissed at him. But that hadn’t stopped her from wanting him once she’d been in his bed...

She’d told him that she wanted closure. And maybe that was partly true, but there was more. Closure probably should have involved a conversation with words instead of their bodies.

She’d just wanted him.

Because she was weak. Once she’d touched him, it had all come flooding back. The first time he’d kissed her, on the front porch of her house with her dad peeking through the blinds. But Erik hadn’t cared. He’d wanted her father to know he was taking her seriously. The kiss had been so perfect and sweet, but the expression in his eyes when he’d pulled away...it had slayed her. Crumbled her defenses.

Or the first time they’d made love, late at night by the lake. He hadn’t pushed her or expected anything. He’d waited until she was ready and then gave her the most romantic, amazing experience. A hell of a lot better than the first time for most of her friends.

Or the endless, passionate nights they’d shared after. The way he could place his hand on the small of her back and make her feel protected and safe. The expression on his face when he was deep inside her, like she was the only thing on earth worth existing for.

The countless memories that had hurt for six years had suddenly flooded in again, only this time they weren’t tinged with pain. Just this wonderful sense of right that she couldn’t let go of.

Even if she knew it was temporary.

God, she was pathetic.

Sleeping with him had been a huge mistake. And when she’d told him she’d been looking for someone else, his devastation should have made her feel better. Like she’d given him a little piece of what he’d dished out to her. But it didn’t. It made her feel even worse. No matter what had happened between them, she didn’t want him to hurt.

Erik had been hurt enough in his life.

“Dammit,” she breathed out, rubbing her hands over her gritty eyes. She hadn’t slept much last night.

The door opened and raucous laughter followed. Baritone voices boomed above the general din of the place. It was a Wednesday night, but the bar was still plenty busy. Decorated like an Irish pub, it was the comfortable hangout for singles and couples alike in Sweetheart. Dark wood and mellow light gave it a warm, friendly feel even as the high-backed booths offered more privacy than the round table she and the girls occupied.

Lola rolled her head, taking in the group that had just walked in. And immediately straightened.

The last thing she needed was her brother and his phalanx of testosterone-laden friends to see her moping. She just knew word would somehow make it back to Erik. Hell, Colt would probably tell him...if he knew she’d slept with him.

Which she had no intention of ever telling her brother. This was one mistake she planned to keep to herself and her girls.

The group, Colt and Sean among them, pushed through the loitering patrons toward a table at the back of the bar, but they got waylaid when they reached the women.

Gage and Evan slipped up behind their wives, slinging arms around their shoulders or waists. Lola watched Hope and Tatum lean back into their men, a comfortable, familiar gesture that made something in the center of her chest ache.

She’d had that once. Familiarity and comfort. With Erik.

Nope, she wasn’t going there. She would not be jealous of her friends and the happiness they’d found.

Lola pushed out her chair, leaving a space for Colt to roll up beside her. “Hey, sis. Didn’t realize you were out tonight.”

The other guys pulled up chairs, filtering into their group and taking up conversation. Sean squeezed in on her other side, dropping his arm around her shoulders and tangling his fingers into her hair.

She turned and gave him a smile that felt sickly. After what happened last night—and what she’d intended to happen—she was a little uncomfortable with him touching her. It felt wrong for so many reasons. But he wouldn’t understand, so Lola left his hand where it was.

Their waitress came by and took orders. The opportunity for conversation with her girls was gone, but Lola didn’t mind the camaraderie that replaced it.

These were her people. The ones she could count on to be there for her when she needed them most. Inexplicably, she felt the sting of tears hit her eyes. And out of nowhere, Colt grabbed her hand and squeezed.

She glanced over at him, wishing she hadn’t when she realized he was watching her with his calm, steady gaze. For a split second she wondered if he knew. Even growing up, he’d somehow had a sixth sense about when she was headed straight for trouble.

Where’d that skill been last night when she’d needed it?

“You good?” he asked in a soft voice only for her ears.

“No.” Because she’d never lie to her brother. Maybe bend the truth or commit the sin of omission, but never outright lie. “I’m pissed at you. Why didn’t you tell me he was back?”

“Because I knew you’d just build your armor up that much higher. I don’t know what happened between you—I was a little preoccupied and you’ve never shared the details with me—but I do know it’s been holding you back for six years.”

“It has not.”

His level stare lasered through her. “Lola, you haven’t had a real relationship since he left.”

“I’ve dated,” she protested. Which was true. Even if none of those dates had led to more than a nice dinner, some pleasant conversation and occasionally a physical outlet. “And I’ve been busy. It’s hard work building a photography business from the ground up.”

“Try selling that snake oil somewhere else. I’m the one who books your appointments, sends out your invoices and pays your bills. Your business has been established and highly profitable for the last several years.”

She harrumphed.

“Stop using it as an excuse.”

She wasn’t! Or...crap, maybe she was.

“You guys need to talk things out. Take the opportunity while he’s home to get some closure, kid.” Colt squeezed her hand again. “So that you can move on with your life and find some happiness.”

“I’m happy.” She didn’t need a man in her life to be happy. Her gaze drifted across the table to Hope and Gage. His arm was around her shoulders as he bent down, murmuring into her ear. The way Hope leaned into him, the expression of bliss on her face... If she were honest with herself, she’d be stupid not to crave that for herself.

The two of them turned back to the conversation flowing around the table. Everyone else ordered another round of drinks, although Lola stuck with her water. Colt gave her a side eye but didn’t comment.

They were enjoying themselves. Sean was being charming and funny, telling a story that had the entire table laughing.

But the camaraderie was demolished when about a half hour later, the door slammed open again. Lola’s back was to the entrance, but somehow she knew who was coming in before she even turned around.

The shocked, panicked expression on Hope’s face was a dead giveaway. Not to mention the way Lola’s body reacted. Her muscles tightened with tension and anticipation. Energy crackled across her skin. And she could practically feel those gorgeous gray eyes boring into the back of her neck.

She turned anyway. Yep, he was staring right at her. No, wait, he was staring at Sean and the arm he had wrapped casually over the back of her chair.

Oh, shit.

Colt raised his voice in greeting—“Erik!”—and waved him over.

It was like watching a car accident in slow motion. She could do nothing to stop it, though a warning yelp burst through her lips anyway.

“Erik, don’t.”

He didn’t slow down, just barreled across the bar. Colt’s reaction changed, going from welcoming to wary in the space of a second. Unaware of Erik’s real target, he rolled his chair backward, effectively blocking Lola in and preventing her from intervening.

Erik’s gaze flicked to her for a split second, raking her with the heat of his anger, but bounding sideways to Sean.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he growled.

Sean, oblivious to the undercurrent, said, “Oh, yeah? What can I do for you?”

Panic seized Lola. She tried to leap over Colt to get to Erik, but only managed to go sprawling over the edge of his chair. Colt’s strong hands gripped her, preventing her from flipping headfirst onto the floor.

All she could do was watch in horror.

Fisting his hands into Sean’s shirt, Erik jerked him up from his chair. Sean didn’t even bother to defend against the first blow, maybe because he hadn’t realized it was coming.

But he definitely ducked the second.


3 (#uf6b80eb7-f6f3-58fb-ba12-7c6477a93032)

“LOLA IS NOT the kind of woman you screw around with, you asshole,” Erik bit out. He didn’t care that half the town was watching, and the other half would know about this fight before he’d managed to clean up his raw knuckles.

Outrage had been building inside him since the moment Lola had walked away last night. Her parting words echoed through his head like the pounding drumbeat of some ancient war chant.

She hadn’t been there to see him. She’d been there to see Sean.

Which might not have been a problem, except Sean had been in Charleston to meet up with a woman he was seeing. That was why Erik had been covering his shift.

Gage and Evan moved to intervene, but rubbing his jaw with one hand, Sean held up the other to stop them. He moved into a clearer space so he’d have room to maneuver. Not a complete moron, then.

No, Erik already knew that about Sean. They’d grown up together, despite the fact the other man was a couple of years younger than him. Sweetheart was a small town, the firehouse even smaller.

Throwing another punch, Erik felt the impact as it reverberated up his arm and into his shoulder. His knuckles burned. It had been a damn long time since he’d gotten into a fistfight.

“You can’t play fast and loose with Lola like that. You sure as hell shouldn’t be seeing someone else while you’re sleeping with her. She’s the kind of woman who expects—and deserves—respect and monogamy when she’s with a guy.”

“Whoa,” Sean said, countering with a punch of his own. He could tell the guy was holding back, but it still hurt like hell when Sean’s fist connected with the underside of his jaw. Erik’s head snapped back.

“Lola and I aren’t sleeping together. We flirt and cut up, but she isn’t interested in me.”

“Erik, stop this. Now,” Lola roared.

Neither of them listened, though Sean did back away, his fists dropping just a little. “What in God’s name made you think that I’m sleeping with Lola?”

“Because she crawled into your bunk last night half-naked, unaware that I’d picked up your shift.”

Lola groaned. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her sag against Colt’s chair. Heat flamed up her face before she buried it in her brother’s shoulder. The back of her neck was a matching brilliant shade of red.

“She did what?” Sean asked, genuine shock making his jaw go slack. “Lola...”

She finally looked up at Sean, a sheepish expression on her face. “So, I had a couple drinks last night and came up with what turned out to be a very stupid idea.”

Sean shook his head, clearly dumbfounded. “You aren’t really interested in me.”

Lola pushed upright, gaining her feet and her composure. Everyone in the place was staring at her, but she didn’t seem to care. “No. This really has nothing to do with you, and I’m sorry to drag you into it.”

Sean shrugged, rubbing the side of his jaw that would no doubt be sporting bruises tomorrow. “You know I’d help you any way you needed, Lola. And sleeping with you would have been less than a hardship. You’re gorgeous and sexy as hell.”

Lola’s lips quirked. “Thanks. I think.”

Erik’s hands balled into fists, but Lola’s words finally started to sink in, penetrating the fog of outrage that had been building inside him all day. “Wait, you didn’t know she was coming to see you?”

“Nope,” Sean said.

Erik’s narrowed gaze swung to Lola.

She stared at him, her only response a miniscule shrug of her shoulders. “I’m a big girl, Erik. I get to sleep, or not sleep, with whomever I want. Whenever I want. I don’t owe anyone an explanation.”

Oh, that was where she was damn wrong.

But for the first time since he’d barreled into the bar, he realized—and cared—about the spectacle they were creating.

Because as pissed as he’d been about Sean’s supposed treatment of Lola, what he’d just done wasn’t much better.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Anger mingling with humor flashed through Lola’s gaze. She threw an arm out, taking in the entire bar. “Little late for that, don’t you think?”

“Well,” Colt said drily, “as much as I’ve enjoyed the entertainment for the night, I think it’s time for everyone to go to their separate corners and chill out for a little while. Erik, why don’t you drive me home?”

Erik’s gaze dragged reluctantly from Lola down to Colt, the man who had once been his closest friend. The brother he’d never had. But that was long ago. He used to be able to judge this man’s moods as quickly as he’d been able to judge Lola’s.

Now, both of them were strangers. And he hated that. Colt had lost the use of his legs the night of the accident, and Erik would never forgive himself for his role in that. But he’d lost so much that night, as well. Maybe more.

He’d lost the woman he loved, the brother he’d never had, his surrogate family and the man who’d stepped in and become his father figure.

When everything had happened in California a few weeks ago and he’d found himself on forced leave for two months, the only thing he’d wanted was to come home and lick his wounds.

He should have known that the ones still festering deep inside would just get ripped back open and add to the misery.

Colt’s gaze, the same deep brown as Lola’s, stared back at him, steady and completely unreadable. For a split second Erik wondered if the other man just wanted to get him alone so he could rip him a new one without an audience.

Not that he didn’t deserve it.

“Yeah, okay.” Backing up, he gestured for Colt to lead the way. Chairs scraped across the floor behind him, and soft voices murmured. Someone flipped on the music that had stopped after he threw the first punch.

At the door, he couldn’t prevent himself from glancing behind him. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted her to be watching him leave or ignoring him like he probably deserved. But she wasn’t doing either.

Lola was gone.

* * *

ERIK STOOD BY, a little helpless, as Colt, using the door and the handle in the ceiling, levered himself up from his wheelchair and into the front seat of Erik’s truck. Erik wanted to offer to help, but wasn’t sure it would be appreciated.

Besides, it obviously wasn’t needed.

Colt pointed to his wheelchair. “Pull up on the seat and it’ll fold. Stash it in the back so we can get out of here.” He swung around to settle in the passenger seat. “We have some catching up to do.”

For the last six years, Erik had worked as a smoke jumper, taking risks and pushing himself to the brink of disaster to fight out-of-control forest fires. Because he could. Because he was damn good at it.

Because he had nothing to lose.

He’d moved around a lot, never settling with one team or in one place. He’d been in Idaho, Washington, Alaska, Montana and, most recently, California.

Over that time, he’d used the excuse that he was busy to stay away from Sweetheart, coming home mostly at holidays. He’d always managed to avoid Colt and Lola during those trips, telling himself he was there to spend time with his mom anyway.

That was a lie. He hadn’t wanted to deal with the accusation he knew would fill their expressions.

The entire drive to his place, Colt kept up a steady stream of conversation. On one hand, it felt like the last six years hadn’t even happened and they were right back where they’d always been.

And if he hadn’t just picked up the chair Colt was forced to live in, maybe Erik could have pretended. He should have stayed in California. Coming home was a stupid idea.

The pressure of all the words he wanted to say—should have said six years ago—clogged his throat. So Erik sat there, his grip on the steering wheel getting tighter and tighter. Screw his jacked-up knuckles and the pain shooting through his hands. That was nothing compared to what Colt had to live with.

How could he ever ask forgiveness for what he’d cost Colt?

He couldn’t.

If Colt noticed Erik’s brusque responses, he didn’t let on. Erik pulled into Colt’s driveway, put the truck in Park and set up his chair outside the open passenger door.

Reaching out, Colt rolled the chair close and then dropped into the seat, repositioning his legs. Colt had always been a strong guy, but even Erik had to marvel at the flex of his biceps.

“Jesus man, what do you bench these days?”

Colt laughed. “More than I used to.”

“Obviously.” Erik shifted uncomfortably on his feet, about to make his escape. Before he could, Colt started rolling away.

“Get your ass in here and have a beer. And some ice. I bet your hand is throbbing like a bitch.”

Erik followed. What else was he supposed to do? “I’ve had worse.”

“Yeah, like the time you wrecked that piece of shit motorcycle you bought off the internet.”

God, he’d forgotten about that. It really had been a piece of shit, but he’d planned to repair it. The bike could have been amazing...if he hadn’t run it off the road on the way home, smashing it into a tree. He hadn’t been seriously injured, but the bike was toast.

Colt, who had been following behind him, picked up the pieces and drove him to the hospital. And he kept the truth from Erik’s mom, who hadn’t wanted him to buy a bike in the first place.

Those were the days. When he had a brother backing him up. Not that he didn’t get along with the guys he worked with now, but it wasn’t the same. You couldn’t replace the kind of history he’d shared with Colt.

Colt didn’t bother stopping to give Erik the grand tour, just wheeled straight to the side-by-side freezer, tossed him a bag of frozen peas without even looking and then snagged two beers.

The peas felt good on the back of his hand. But the cool beer flowing down his throat felt better.

Although he nearly spit the mouthful back out again when Colt said, “This is the point in the evening’s entertainment when I tell you to get your head out of your ass.”

“Excuse me?”

Colt gave him a pointed stare. “First, whatever you keep thinking when you look at me, forget it. Me being in this chair is not your fault.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t. I made my own choices that night, Erik, knowing full well the risks involved. I agreed to those risks every time I went into a burning building.”

“But you shouldn’t have been there. You wouldn’t have been if I hadn’t gone in after Chief gave the order to pull back.”

Colt rolled across the kitchen floor, wheels squeaking softly against the hardwood. “Come here.”

“What?”

“Come here.” He crooked a finger.

With a shake of his head, Erik leaned down and yelped when Colt smacked him in the back of the head.

“What the hell?” he asked, rubbing the spot.

“Someone needs to knock some sense into you. You know me better than that. Always have. If you hadn’t gone back into that building, I would have. I wasn’t about to leave another boy without a dad if there was something I could do about it. Just like you.”

A jolt rocked through Erik. His hands clenched. And a weight he’d been carrying for so long finally...fell away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He needed to say the words. Maybe not for Colt, but for himself.

“Yeah, man. I know. What happened sucked, but it was an accident. I’ve found peace and purpose in it. I’m about to graduate with my master’s in psychology. My plan is to help people deal with difficult situations like mine. I’m good. I promise. You, on the other hand, are in a world of trouble.”

Wait. Hadn’t they just cleared the air?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing with my sister?”

With a groan, Erik slumped against the kitchen counter and knocked back a huge gulp from his bottle.

“Nothing. I’m not doing anything with your sister.”

“That’s not what it sounded like. It sounded like you’ve been home for less than a handful of days and have already managed to get her into bed.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Sure, because your dick accidentally slipped, right?”

“Hey! I woke up from a dead sleep to find your sister in my bed wearing nothing but a bra and the skimpiest panties on this earth.”

Colt made a disgusted sound and ground his palms into his eye sockets. “That’s a visual I will never be able to wipe from my brain, asshole.”

Erik had to chuckle. This, at least, was familiar territory. This sounded like countless other conversations they’d had about his relationship with Lola. Honestly, there was a part of him that had enjoyed torturing Colt on occasion. So he was human. Whatever.

“Look, I said it back then and I’ll say it now. You’re both adults, so what you do together is between you guys.”

“You say that, but why don’t I believe you?”

“Because unlike before, this time I know what’s coming—for both of you. What happens when it’s time for you to leave town again, Erik? Lola was devastated. You didn’t have to watch her waste away for months, heartbroken that you’d left without even really telling her goodbye. You didn’t watch the hope she couldn’t quite extinguish slowly drive her crazy...until it finally went out altogether. Which, I have to tell you, was ten times worse.”

Setting his bottle on the counter, Colt backed away, putting space between them.

“All I’m saying is that you really need to think hard before you act. What do you want? And what’s best for Lola? Don’t start something with her again if you’re not sure you can give it one hundred percent this time. I’m not sure she’d survive the aftermath of you running again. And we both know that these days, running is what you’re good at.”

Without waiting for his response, Colt rolled away, heading into the back of the house.

Erik had been dismissed.

But Colt’s words followed Erik out the door and back to his mom’s place. His friend had always been the smart one.

He needed to leave Lola alone. They’d crashed and burned before. Neither of them could survive doing it again.

* * *

IT HAD BEEN six weeks since he’d seen Lola. After his talk with Colt, he’d purposely avoided her so he wouldn’t make another mistake with her.

The last thing he wanted was to hurt her more than he already had.

Honestly, Colt’s words had scared him—a hell of a lot more than parachuting out of a plane into any wildfire he’d faced.

He’d picked up more shifts at the station. A couple of the teams often operated with three men instead of four so it was easy to fill the empty spot, especially when he’d worked with most of the guys before and had a rapport. That history made it easy to blend into a cohesive group.

There were moments when he missed the adrenaline rush of smoke jumping. But with a little distance, he’d realized his chief back in California was right. He’d needed a break. For the last six years he’d been going nonstop. Running from fire to fire in some misguided attempt to make up for what had happened in Sweetheart.

And instead, he’d barreled straight into another tragedy that had cost him a friend and sent him careening into a situation that had almost cost him his own life. Losing Aaron had carried with it a warped sense of déjà vu.

Standing behind Aaron’s widow, listening to her muffled sobs, had ripped something open inside him. And he’d taken the bleeding mess straight into another fire and used it to push himself beyond the point of breaking.

Cut off from the team, surrounded by fire with no way out, he’d been lucky. They’d managed to rescue him. He’d been grateful, until Chief had given him the two-month suspension for ignoring orders.

Restless, it had only taken him a few days to realize he needed to be somewhere other than California, watching news stories about a wildfire his team was fighting but he wasn’t allowed to touch.

So he’d come home to Sweetheart and walked straight into a history that he’d never actually dealt with. Seeing Lola...it had been like a shot to the gut. He’d wanted her. Missed her.

That single night they’d shared wasn’t nearly enough. Nothing between them ever had been. Even back when they were dating, he’d felt this overwhelming need to be with her. To touch her. To listen to her talk and rile her up. Lola was so passionate and interesting...he constantly wanted more of her.

Not smart.

Today Erik had come home from an unusually long shift during which he’d barely gotten three hours of sleep, none of them consecutive. They’d been called out on two accidents. In one, a four-year-old child had been trapped inside the twisted metal of a totaled car. Luckily, they’d gotten him out, and from all reports, he had minor injuries and would be fine.

Then, around midnight, they’d gotten a call about smoke coming from the attic in a two-story house just inside the city limits. That one hadn’t taken long to extinguish, but before they’d even returned to the station, they were sent back out on a medical call.

Erik had dropped into his bunk and gotten forty-five minutes before a three-alarm apartment fire had come in. That one had kept him up way past time for his shift to end.

He hadn’t gotten home until almost 10:00 a.m. and then immediately dropped into sleep. Now it was well past three and he was finally awake. Sort of. His mother was banging something downstairs, the sound of it reverberating through his throbbing skull.

He definitely needed more sleep. Or coffee. Lots of coffee.

Realizing sleep probably wasn’t in the cards, Erik pushed up from the bed and tossed on a pair of sweats, not bothering with a shirt. He could smell whatever his mom was cooking, and it was making his stomach rumble. He hadn’t eaten in hours.

Shuffling downstairs, he paused in the doorway of the kitchen to find his mom rolling out pie dough. God, he loved his mom’s pies. When he was younger he hadn’t appreciated all the sacrifices she’d made for him. As a single mom, she’d worked two jobs to provide for him and still somehow managed to have enough energy to do things like bake homemade cookies to include in his lunches and her famous peach pie for Sunday supper.

“Please tell me you aren’t taking that to the neighbors or something.” Because that was a distinct possibility, and Erik wasn’t sure he could deal with the disappointment right now. Not with his head pounding and his body still begging for sleep.

It would be cruel and unusual punishment.

“Of course not. I know you had a rough shift last night, so I wanted to make your favorite.” His mom beamed at him, and a short burst of love mixed with guilt shot through him.

He hadn’t been home nearly enough since Colt’s accident.

Crossing the kitchen, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a bear hug. She was a small woman, but somehow he’d never thought of her that way. Not once in his entire life had he heard his mother complain. She always wore a smile, even if it was sometimes lopsided from exhaustion.

“Love you, Mom,” he mumbled into the top of her head before stepping back.

“What was that for?” she asked, staring up at him out of her calm, steady eyes, which matched his own.

“Can’t I give my mom a hug and tell her I love her?”

“Anytime you want.” She offered him a serene smile, turning back to the ingredients spread across the counter. “I’ve also got a roast in the oven. Everything should be ready in a couple hours. I wasn’t sure how long you’d sleep.”

“Great. That gives me enough time to fix the faucet upstairs. The handle keeps falling off whenever I turn the water on.”

“Yeah. I’ve been meaning to call someone in to take a look, but there really hasn’t been a need since you haven’t been home.”

Guilt burned through his gut. “I’ll deal with it. It’ll probably need a new faucet. I can just grab whatever’s handy at the hardware store, unless you want to pick it out yourself?”

“Get whatever you think’s best.” His mom reached out, patting his cheek. “You’re a good boy.”

“Only because you raised me right.”

She laughed, the short burst of sound resonating through his chest and making an answering smile curl his lips.

He’d missed this. Growing up, it had always been the two of them. And while he’d needed to get away from Sweetheart, this trip home was a reminder that he’d run away from more than just Lola, Colt and the accident he couldn’t deal with.

A few hours later, he ran to the store and fixed the sink upstairs. After eating the amazing meal his mom had cooked, he even managed to convince her to indulge in watching a movie while he cleaned up, which was where he was when he heard a car pulling into the drive.

He shifted to the front window so he could see who was stopping by.

But that wasn’t one of his mom’s friends stomping up the front walk.

It was Lola.

What was she doing here?

Erik dried his hands on a towel, tossed it over one shoulder and headed for the front door.

Before he could reach it, she started banging and just kept going, not even giving him a chance to respond.

“What the hell,” Erik yelled before he’d even jerked open the front door. The angry expression on her face puzzled him. He hadn’t seen her in weeks. What the hell could she be upset about now?

“Lola?”

The screen door was still shut between them. She didn’t reach to open it, and for some reason, Erik thought maybe it was smarter to leave that barrier between them for right now.

He was proved right when words burst from her. “You asshole. I’m pregnant.”


4 (#uf6b80eb7-f6f3-58fb-ba12-7c6477a93032)

HE HAD TO be hearing things. For a second, Erik thought Lola had said she was pregnant.

And then the expression on her face hit him. Scared, upset, with a mixture of wonder that made his belly clench.

Realization barreled into him. He’d heard her correctly. And that tiny kernel of wonder sprouted in his own belly...for about five seconds. Right up until she spun on her heel and stormed down his mom’s front steps.

That was it. She’d dropped her bomb, broke apart his world and was just planning to leave.

Not on your life.

Erik didn’t even stop to think. He slammed open the door, and it bounced off the side of the house with a resounding bang. He was across the wide veranda with her arm in his hand as he spun her.

“What?”

“You heard me,” she ground out.

Yes. Yes, he had. He opened his mouth to say something, but his head was spinning so fast that he had no idea what.

Their night together was etched into his brain, and not just because of the broken condom. The last six weeks had been sheer hell. Every place he seemed to go in Sweetheart was filled with memories of Lola. And when he wasn’t fighting the pull of their history while he was awake, the pulsing frenzy of their night together twisted through his dreams, jolting him awake, making him ache for her.

But he’d listened to Colt and stayed away because it was the right thing to do for Lola.

This changed everything.

“You aren’t going to ask me if it’s yours?”

The sneer in her words hurt, which was exactly why she’d said them. But what pissed him off more than the petty slash was the implied cut to herself.

“No, Lola. That never even crossed my mind. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t know the baby was mine. And you’ve never slept around.”

“You don’t know anything about me anymore. I could sleep around.”

“But you don’t.” People didn’t change that much, not at their core.

“I was sneaking into someone else’s bed that night.”

God, he really wished she’d stop reminding him. “I’m aware. I’m also aware that you never actually slept with Sean.”

“But I could have.”

“No, you couldn’t have.” He might have avoided Lola over the past several weeks, but he hadn’t avoided Colt. And while his friend had been quick to warn him away from Lola, he hadn’t shied away from talking about her.

Erik was well aware that she’d rarely dated over the last six years, and never the same guy more than once or twice. Her love life sounded as interesting as his own. He hadn’t been a saint, but he hadn’t exactly been filling his phone with random numbers, either.

“We need to talk,” he said. Lola tried to jerk away from him, but he kept a firm grip on her arm. Her shoulder sagged a little beneath the weight of the fear she couldn’t quite hide.

He wanted to banish it for her. But that wasn’t his place anymore.

Finally she sighed. “I know, but I’m not ready for this.”

Erik wasn’t sure if she meant their discussion or being pregnant. Not that it really mattered. They were going to have to deal with both. And the conversation was going to start now.

Erik led her back up onto the wraparound porch and guided her to the swing at the far end, his hand nestled against the small of her back. The gesture was comfortable and familiar, a feeling of rightness in the middle of a storm.

He settled her and then took several steps away, leaning his hip against the porch railing.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he watched her for several seconds. Lola Whittaker had always been beautiful. Wild and willful, with a creative bent that astounded him because he didn’t have a creative bone in his body. Growing up, she was always making, painting or gluing something or other. Or else she had a camera in her hand.




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