Up in Flames Read online

Besides, he wasn't in this for love. Had never wanted love from Jules, or anyone else at this stage of the game. It just wasn't a good time. Especially with some nutjob sending those stupid letters.

  But would it ever be a good time?

  As he contemplated his unwillingness to fall in love, he got a horrible twinge of guilt in his gut. He didn't deserve love anyway, certainly not with someone as loving as Jules.

  When he thought of that last conversation with Alana...

  He felt his eyes burn at the memory. He'd been such a pig. He couldn't ever tell Jules he'd been a horrible husband at the end. He could barely admit it to himself. If Jules even got a whiff of the truth, she'd be out like a flash.

  And, right now, he just wanted to keep her near. To keep her close, but to somehow keep it light and casual. He couldn't let himself hurt her. Hopefully, she wasn't looking for anything permanent because he was the worst person to give it to her. He wouldn't wish a lifetime with him on any woman.

  But she was so sweet and open last night, the perfect lover. Her little cries and moans had done him in. And all he could think about was how to help her make those incredible sounds of pleasure again. To think he could give that to her was the most amazing gift he could have.

  Her eyes fluttered, and he swallowed. His cock was already hard, wanting her. As she woke, her naked body brushed closer to his, making him agonizingly hard. He bit down on his lip, and tried to mentally banish his erection.

  She looked at him through sleepy eyes which became a little nervous as she focused on him. Morning after nerves, no doubt. But then she tangled her smooth legs around his and the crease in her brow relaxed. She spoke and her soft voice was gravelly and sexy. “Morning, Captain."

  Shit. It was no use. He needed her again. His engorged penis thumped against her hip. “Morning."

  He leaned in for a deep kiss, and she turned slightly away, amused and horrified at the same time. “I haven't even brushed my teeth!"

  He tipped her head back. “I don't care.” And then he kissed her, sliding his tongue deep into her mouth so she'd have no chance to argue. Even in the morning, she was delicious. He ate at her lips, nibbled at her chin and feasted on her warm neck until he felt the scrumptious, ready moisture between her legs.

  "Shane, you're insatiable."

  "I can't help it. I've been thinking about your freckles all morning.” He lowered himself down her body, kissing a heated trail which left her squirming in his arms. With familiar ease, he located the tiny dots low on her belly and traced them with his finger until she bucked underneath him.

  And then, with the urgency of someone who didn't know how long the love affair would last and was too scared to hope, Shane lowered his mouth to her sex and drank her in. She might not be his forever, couldn't be his forever, but he could wrap her legs around his shoulders now and take his fill.

  "Ms. Baker? Do you mind if we set the dumpster out front?” The contractor repeated himself. “Ms. Baker?"

  Juliet snapped out of her reverie and squinted at the man. “I'm sorry. I'm in a bit of a daze today. Sure, put the dumpster wherever you need. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

  Shane's roofer pals had arrived and were going to attack the roof today. And she had someone there to work on the old, decrepit wiring as well. Somehow that morning, Jules had managed to sign contracts and confirm shingle choices, even though all she could see was Shane. And every time the poor contractors tried to tell her something, she only heard Shane's sexy, low voice in her ear. Saying the very naughty things he'd said last night.

  Memory, she decided, was a dangerous thing.

  It turned her into a complete lust-crazed moron today. She couldn't do anything without visions of the evening's sexual acrobatics assaulting her. As she'd slid on some eyeliner that morning, she remembered how he'd kissed her eyelids. As she'd slathered her legs with her daily sunscreen, she recalled how he'd counted the freckles there, kissing each one. Even as she'd washed the breakfast dishes in warm water, she remembered how he'd lapped at her moist pussy. And now, for some reason, as she sought out some ice cubes for her glass of water, she still remembered how very heated their bodies had become.

  Entwined. Inflamed. Woven into one pulsing, aching being.

  It had been the most incredible sexual experience of her life. But it had left her feeling hollow and annoyingly lost.

  Because she knew it would invariably end. She'd mess it up, she knew she would. Her ordeal with Kevin had ruined her, made her paranoid. The proof was in the pudding. Even watching Shane sashay down the catwalk for a charity event had sent her into a tailspin. And it wasn't even as if he were her boyfriend. Or anything.

  So, what was he? Her lover?

  "Jeez, I hate that term. Sounds sleazy,” she said quietly as she poured ice water into five large goblets. Come on, Jules. Now don't get ahead of yourself. You don't have to label this. Just enjoy this. You want his body and, for some bizarre reason, he wants your body. And he hasn't gotten over his wife, so do not go there.

  She put the water goblets on a tray and headed outside to where the men were working. Before she could turn the corner, one of them said something which caught her attention and she froze.

  "Hey Geordie, did your missus go to the firefighter auction?"

  "Yeah,” he laughed. “Got her all hot and bothered. Lucky for me.” The men laughed with him.

  "My sister went,” the first man, a young roofer named Jim, said. “She came back to the house later with her girlfriends. I had to listen to them all night long. All they could talk about was Shane. How gorgeous he is. What a great body he has. They were so mad when another woman outbid them for him. Boy, that poor man has no idea what's comin’ his way. My sister is bound and determined to get with him."

  "We all know your sister, Jim,” another chimed in. “What she wants, she gets. Shaney-boy doesn't stand a chance."

  Jules tried to compose herself around the corner of the house while the roofers shared a laugh. She wanted to take the glass goblets of water and smash them one by one against the brick wall. Her blood pressure seemed to have skyrocketed in the space of thirty seconds. She'd gone from a woman who was trying to be philosophical about her love affair to a possessive lioness, ready to claw out the eyes of her female competitors.

  So all the women in Riverbend wanted Shane. So what?

  He was a free agent and so was she. He hadn't made her any promises, no declarations and neither had she. They had scratched an itch, that's all. If Shane chose to scratch some other itches with other women, it wasn't her concern. Why should this bother her?

  Perhaps because she had felt a connection when they made love. She couldn't describe it, couldn't put her finger on it. But when Shane touched her, she'd opened to him. Not only her body, but a hidden part of her soul, too. A part she'd encased in granite after she'd found out Kevin had cheated. Her vulnerability. Her hope. All the parts she thought she'd effectively walled up six months ago. Yet when Shane looked at her with those bedroom eyes, looked into her, she could feel a tiny mallet chipping away at the stone vault inside her.

  And that terrified her. Especially when she knew he was such a hot commodity in town. How many other women were vying for a chance with him? There was no way she could ever get into another situation where her trust was abused. There was so little of it left. Kevin had already trampled on it, bruising it forever.

  And yet, Shane had done so much to make her feel safe. Lord only knew, Riverbend's police officers were probably cursing up a storm because they were being forced to babysit her, instead of fighting actual crime.

  She took a breath and went to greet the roofers, a smile on her face. “Who'd like some ice water? And I have brownies, too."

  The men, on their break, thanked her and grabbed up the goblets and brownies eagerly.

  The young one, Jim, gawked at her with boyish admiration, until Geordie smacked him over the head. “Stop staring, Jimbo,” said Geordie. “Lord, you'd think you'd never seen
a pretty woman before. Don't mind him, Ms. Baker. The boy's a bit touched. Girls make him nervous."

  Jim, wide-eyed and flushed, walked away munching on his brownie.

  "This is nice of you, Ms. Baker,” Geordie enthused. “Not many people offer us cold drinks and snacks. You're one good woman. No wonder our boss is comping this job."

  "Sorry, what did you say?"

  "He's comping your roof work. You don't have to pay. Shane's taken care of everything for you.” He smiled at her, as if she should already know this.

  She forced a smile, and then carried her tray into the house. And tried to ignore the awful, wonderful flip-flops down in her belly.

  Jules cooked dinner that night. Nothing fancy. Pot roast and potatoes in the slow cooker. It had never been part of her living agreement with Shane that she provide his food, but after last night and after learning he'd paid for her roof, she felt she ought to do something.

  What was the protocol for feeding the boarder you were sleeping with? Jules couldn't recall ever seeing any etiquette books on the subject at the local library.

  She turned off the slow cooker and let the meal sit. She then heard Shane's pickup door slam shut and it froze her to her spot. Compelling herself to move, she took off the Hello Kitty apron she'd made in Home Economics class years ago, and washed her hands.

  "Casual,” she muttered as the water poured over her trembling fingers. “Just be casual."

  And then it occurred to her that preparing a home-cooked pot roast dinner with all the trimmings could be construed as something less than casual. Of course, paying for someone else's roof could also be construed as distinctly un-casual. At any rate, she suddenly wanted to toss the roast out the window. She set the table with her mother's cow plates instead and waited for Shane to enter, wishing she'd ordered a pizza.

  Shane entered the farmhouse, unsure of what he'd find or how he should act, but eager to see Jules. The day had seemed interminable. His work had always fascinated him, but today it barely distracted him from thoughts of her. How would she react? Would she be distant, having had the day to reconsider the evening's impulsive actions? Or would she be hungry for him and jump into his arms?

  He was hungry for her, that was clear. He'd had a hard-on all day, and it had only gotten harder on the ride home. Now all he could think of was riding Jules at home.

  "Hi, Jules,” he called, catching a whiff of a wonderful scent.

  "In the kitchen,” she called back.

  He walked in and his heart jumped into his throat. The scene of wonderful domesticity she presented both touched and worried him. She'd made some sort of delicious meal and was wearing a cute, little sundress and heels. He could see she'd been wearing an apron with that Japanese cat on it, but had shoved it in a corner. Her hair was gelled back off her forehead, making her eyes look even brighter. If she'd been wearing pearls, he would have thought of June Cleaver. It was the sort of scene he'd craved the past few years, but it also terrified him with its implications. “Hey, you've been busy."

  Jules offered him a guarded grin and stood still. She was giving off the same vibes she always did. The ones which clearly said “I am dying to run into your arms but will not do so upon pain of death because I'm trying to pretend I don't want you.” Crazy woman.

  "Not really. It's just pot roast. I threw it together."

  "You just threw it together, huh?” Shane approached her. He reached an arm around her waist and pulled her close. He kept his gaze wary, but his hands seemed to be moving of their own accord. His body wanted her and wouldn't be denied. He leaned down and kissed her softly on the mouth. He couldn't miss the tiny moan sounding at the back of her throat. Before his roving tongue got him into trouble, he straightened up, keeping his hands on her hips. “It smells delicious."

  Her chest was heaving ever so slightly under the cotton sundress. He could tell she was trying to control her breathing. His eyes dipped down to the outline of the cotton, at the way it strained against her full breasts.

  She frowned, obviously trying to clear her head. “So, did you have a good day?"

  Her voice had risen at the end of the question, betraying her unease. She wanted him, too. Wanted him badly. His voice came out a near growl. “It was all right."

  As good as the meal smelled, he really didn't want any pot roast right now. He wanted her on the table in front of him instead. Cursing silently, he wondered how it was she managed to bring out some sort of barbarian in him.

  She pulled out of his grasp and moved over to the counter. “I'll get the food if you need to wash up.” She turned, quashing his plan to lay her out on the kitchen table.

  For now, he decided.

  While Shane changed and cleaned up, Jules ran around the kitchen furiously, cursing the kitten heels she'd decided to wear. She ripped off her strappy sandals and tossed them into a corner and continued to plate the food. She was about to open a bottle of wine, but then thought better of it. “No,” she whispered to herself. “This is not a romantic dinner. If he wants wine, then I'll open it."

  She got everything ready, but her heart was racing from the effort of trying to remain composed and not jump Shane's bones. She stood still for a moment, putting a hand over her chest, trying desperately to calm her heartbeat. It was beating right out of her chest.

  Jules closed her eyes and visualized a beautiful valley scene, full of flowers and hills and gurgling rivers. All was peace in the valley, and she started to calm down.

  Until her fevered mind produced an unwanted image of Shane Gaskill as a half-naked, rampaging knight on a steed. He tore into her peaceful valley and threw her, the fair maiden, on a bed of moss and made crazy, medieval love to her.

  "Well, that didn't work,” she murmured.

  "What was that?"

  She turned, blushing at being caught with her randy daydreams. “Oh, nothing. Have a seat. You must be tired.” She took a seat at the table. The one furthest away from him.

  Shane stared at her and at her chair for a moment. Then, purposely, he sat in the chair next to hers, making her squirm. “I'd prefer to sit here, next to you, if you don't mind."

  Oh God, thought Juliet. He's got that look in his eye. The one he had last night. She grasped at a topic. “So, what adventures did you get into today?"

  He made a small huffing noise. “You really want to make small talk right now?"

  "Yes, please,” she confessed quietly.

  "Fine.” He looked at her, resigned. “Actually, we had to do a rescue at an old factory on the outskirts of town. Some teenage girls decided to do some exploring where they didn't belong and got stuck in some old machinery. I wondered for a bit if they might be the ones setting the small fires around town lately, but arsonists are usually male."

  "I read about that in the paper. It's been, what, four tool sheds now?"

  "Four too many, if you ask me.” His face changed. He hadn't told her about the taunting note at the scene of that second fire. He still didn't know definitively if the note was connected to the other notes and didn't want to terrify her needlessly. “Anyway, those girls today were just looking for fun in the wrong place. They're all fine, just a little frightened. Serves them right."

  "And did you give them a good lecture, Captain Gaskill?” She smiled as she poured some water for him.

  "Damn straight, I did. That's why I always made sure my kid sister had a part-time job when she was in school. Kept her out of trouble.” He tucked into the pot roast and his eyes widened. A seductive little laugh escaped him. “This is the second-best thing I've ever tasted."

  Jules was about to ask what the best was, and then their eyes met. For a moment, they both blushed with memories of the previous night and morning. Memories of other things he'd tasted.

  "I didn't know you were such a good cook,” he mumbled, clearly trying to ignore his significant arousal. “I'm so glad you didn't bleed into this meal."

  Jules gasped and laughed. “I knew you'd never let me live that one down, e
vil man."

  His eyes met hers again, and he did look distinctly evil. Sexy, smoldering evil.

  Jules pierced a potato and popped it into her mouth, swallowing with difficulty. “ I didn't know you had a little sister."

  "Yeah,” he replied, grinning. “Becky. She's thirty-three now but she still thinks I cramp her style. I was a bit of a domineering, bossy older brother. You know, always making sure she had a ride home from parties, not letting her drink, scaring the boys away from her. She hated me for a long time, but I couldn't help it. Becky was an easily-influenced kid and my folks were so busy with their work. I considered it my job to keep her from falling in with the wrong people.” He laughed to himself. “She still calls me Brother Shane. You know, like a monk."

  Jules smiled. There was nothing monk-like about him. If only Becky knew. “I think it sounds sweet. You were protective of her."

  "I do tend to get a little caveman-like when it comes to women. I don't like it when men mistreat them. It's the one thing which makes me want to lash out.” And then he gave her a look which said he was ready to stop talking about his sister.

  She remembered how he was the day he first saw her with Kevin. Even though he was a stranger, he was completely on her side. Protective. Very much like that knight on his steed. He must have been a formidable, but caring, brother.

  He'd make an incredible father, too.

  Whoa, she considered. Where did that come from?

  Without warning, Shane threw his fork and knife down. He let out a huge puff of air and stared at her, frowning. “Look, Jules. I have to say something."

  Here it comes, she thought. This is where he tells me it's not working. That he's moving on. She put up a hand to stop him. “Can I say something first? You paid for my roof."

  "Yes. You needed a new roof."

  "Shane, have you seen the size of that roof? This is a huge house. It cost thousands of dollars. I can't let you do it."

  "It's done.” His eyes burned into her, letting her know unequivocally that there was no way he was letting her take the satisfaction from him. “I enjoyed taking care of it for you. I can afford it. It's okay, Jules."