Burning Ember (50 page)

I hear more banging coming from inside the house, and this time when I breathe in, I smell something mouthwatering.
Mmmm
. . . b
acon.

Standing from the bed, I see a set of clothes laid out for me. Drawstring pants and a T-shirt. In the bathroom, I find a new toothbrush waiting on the counter, and a hairbrush. But looking at my wild hair, I affirm that yes, a quick shower is a necessity. Otherwise, there is no way I’ll be able to tame this lion mane.

I’m laughing a while later as I leave the bathroom. The drawstring pants are about eight inches too long and make me look like Dopey. I’m pretty sure if I attempt to walk down the stairs in them, I’ll fall, so I exchange them for my red shorts.

The heavy weight on my thigh has me instantly pulling the phone Mav gave me from my pocket. Four missed calls. Two texts. One missed call from Bethany, one from Lily, and two from Sundown.

A relieved breath whooshes out of me. Every time I’ve tried to reach Sundown, my calls have gone unanswered. And her damn mailbox is full . . . again. Something I’m always on her case to fix. I immediately dial her number back, but it only rings and then tells me her mailbox is still full. I try again and get the same result.

I read the texts.

Bethany: I’m sorry about the party.

Bethany: I heard you and Mav worked things out. So happy for you. Lily is covering my shift at the bar so I can spend the day with the kids, and you can spend yours with Mr. Fire and Ice. You can thank us later by giving us details.

I type back a reply.

Me: Thank you. You guys didn’t have to do that. Are you sure?

Her reply comes in seconds.

Bethany: Yes. Now, go lock that man down if you haven’t already.

Laughing, I type.

Me: Okay . . . okay . . . sheesh.

Then I quickly text Sunny.

Me: Call this number ASAP. -M

I pocket the phone and leave the room. I keep thinking she has to guess it could be me, but she does get a lot of calls from guys too, so she’s leery of private numbers.

The moment I get to the top of the stairs, I nearly jump out of my skin. A high pitch wail pierces the air, quiets, and goes off again and again. It’s not until I’m halfway to the first floor when I see smoke fogging the air in the kitchen.

I hurry in and see Mav standing by the island with his back to the stove. He’s waving a towel overhead and trying to fan smoke toward the open back door and the opened windows. Behind him smoke rises from a pan of charcoaled bacon that’s also popping with grease.

I have to shout to be heard. “Ummm . . .” I point at the stove. “Are you trying to start a grease fire?”

Mav’s head snaps toward me. Discomfort flashes over his amber eyes and he lets out a pent up breath. He drops the towel to his side, says something, but I can’t make it out. Maybe he couldn’t hear me either.

I start laughing as he strides past me with flushed cheeks and frustration evident in his posture. He pulls a chair from the dining room and gets on top of it. After cracking open the fire alarm, he takes out the batteries. Only the scream of the alarm keeps on going. He says something. I’m guessing another curse as he heads into the front room.

A few minutes later when all of the alarms are finally quiet, he comes back into the kitchen.

He strides toward me wearing a white V-neck shirt and worn jeans, and he’s barefoot. I find that sexy as hell, because
damn
. . . he has nice feet.

“What exactly are you trying to do? Burn your new house down?” I can barely contain the amusement I’m holding back. “You know, that’s not really my thing . . .”

His mouth twitches and his frustration falls away. “I was tryin’ to make you breakfast in bed. Heard it was one of the top ten things you do when you fuck up with your girlfriend.”

My smile escapes and is now irrepressible. “Who told you that?”

“Google, he deadpans.

“Hmmm . . .” I quirk an eyebrow. “Girlfriend?”

His mouth twitches as he slides his hands on my hips. “Old lady then.”

Old lady?

My chest constricts, and I’m not sure if it’s excitement or nervousness that has me freaking out. I bite my lip and twist out of his hold. For a distraction, I survey the disaster that is his new kitchen. The burnt food and messy dishes. The eggs aren’t even yellow anymore—more like a blackened brown—and don’t even get me started on the hash browns.

“Wow . . . so . . . you don’t really cook much do you?”

He laughs and pulls me back into him. “I was tryin’. But no, usually I eat somethin’ premade or get take out.”

“You should stick to that.”

He growls playfully and tickles my sides.

I’m gasp and try to wiggle away from him. “Stop. Stop,” I say between laughs. “I was just kidding.”

He pushes my hair away from my neck and starts kissing me there. Nibbling on my ear, he whispers, “I wanted to do somethin’ nice for you.”

I melt a little and moan. “Hmmm . . . this is nice.”

“You look fuckin’ hot in my shirt, Doll.”

“I like it. It smells like you.”

He nuzzles my neck. “You like the way I smell?” When I nod, he says, “I like the way you smell too. Drives me crazy.” To emphasize his words he presses his long, hard body into mine. His cock is thick and ready. As ready as it was when he took me last night.

Then he says, “Teach me.”

I look over at him as he rests his chin on my shoulder. “Teach you what?”

He nods toward the stove. “Teach me how to cook you breakfast. I did my teachin’ last night,” he winks, “now it’s your turn.”

My eyes narrow on him and fall to his delicious mouth I want to kiss, then back up to his heated eyes. “Really? You want to learn how to cook?”

He grins. “Yeah. Why not.”

Scanning the kitchen one more time, I say, “Do you have more eggs? Hash browns? Bacon?”

He smiles and heads to the fridge, where he begins to pull out more food. “I got a boat load of shit this mornin’. Went out while you were sleepin’. And I was starvin’ so I grabbed enough to feed an army.”

“Wow, you don’t say.” I eye the smorgasbord of food he places on the counter. “What time did you get up?”

“Six.” He leans on his elbows over the counter and his grin turns mischievous. “Now ask me what time I got out of bed.”

I roll my lips once between my teeth and let my eyes roam over his face. He shaved this morning and he has yet another bruise. It’s on his right cheek where Dozer clocked him. He’s still sexy as hell though.

“What time did you get out of bed?”

“Seven thirty.”

“Do I want to know what you did for that hour and a half?”

He laughs and studies my face. “Probably not.” He rubs his index finger over his mouth. “You’re a pretty deep sleeper though, huh? I mean even at the clubhouse, it took me a while to get you up, but I thought if I . . .” His smile is wicked.

“Oh, God. What did you do?”

His laugh is deep and rich as he pushes away from the counter and comes toward me. He cups my elbows. “Tried to kiss you awake.” By the way he’s looking at me, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mean he was kissing my lips.

“So that dream I had this morning where you were . . . uh-mmm . . . down there.” I look away as fire crawls up my neck and heat rushes between my legs.

Mav pinches my chin and lifts it. “We can pretend it was a dream if you want.”

My nipples harden and start to ache.

If I don’t sidetrack us soon, he’ll have me bent over this counter in a matter of seconds. Totally dismissing the kindling of lust bouncing between us, I say, “Well, if we’re going to do this, I’m going to need to throw this stuff out and scrub the pans.”

He chuckles as I turn the water on to fill up the sink and add some dish soap.

“You wash and I’ll dry,” Mav says as he grabs the kitchen towel off the floor that he dropped earlier.

“You do know how to dry, right?”

He smiles and narrows his eyes on me. Then winds the towel up and whips me in the butt with it. “Such a smart ass little mouth, Doll.” As I glare at him, I rub my backside.

Mav dumps the burned food. I watch and can’t help but think what a waste it is. There was a time not too long ago when I would have been thankful for every morsel of that burnt food. I think of the shelter and all the people in it. I think of Ivy and wonder where she is right now.

I get lost in thought as I load the pans into the sink. But after a few minutes, I force myself to think of something less depressing. Like the things about Mav I’ve been dying to know.

“Griz said you went to college . . .”

Mav peaks over at me. “Yeah. They like to rub that in like it’s a rap on my record or somethin’.”

“It could be because they’re jealous . . . or maybe they’re just proud of you.”

He gives me an odd look that turns thoughtful. “Hmmm. If they are, they’d never let me think that.”

“What college did you go?”

“Cornell.”

As I scrub the pan in the sink I ask, “I’ve heard of it, but I have no idea where it is.”

“It’s in New York. At first, I wanted to get farther from home, but then I got a partial scholarship there. I couldn’t really pass it up since it was also one of the best schools for studying architecture.”

“So you’re from New York?” I murmur under my breath, “Well, that explains it.”

He nudges my hip and takes the pans from my hands. His accent gets heavier as his eyes scan down my body as he says, “How you doin’?”

Chills rush over my arms. Laughing, I say, “Oh, my God, you sound just like him.” He even gives me the same lustful look Joey gives.

He says something else. But honestly, I can’t make out the words. It sounds like
forgettaboutit.

The smile he’s wearing hits me all the way to my bones. My stomach quivers, and I’m suddenly all hot and bothered.

Trying to recover somewhat, I say, “Have you always been good at art?”

“I don’t know if I was always good at it, but I was pretty good in junior high and high school. Good enough to get a lot of extra attention from my teachers. I won a couple of contests. And one day, one of my teachers sat me down and talked to me about what I could do with it career wise. I love drawing, so it made sense to me to pick a career where I could continue to do that and make money. With designing homes and buildings, I get to see my ideas come to life.”

“It must be nice knowing what you want to do for the rest of your life.” I lean down to use a little muscle on a particular spot. “I’ve never had a job I felt that way about, and I’ve had many.”

“How many?”

“Hmmm . . .” I count in my head. “Somewhere around fourteen.”

“Fourteen?”

I nod. “Yeah. I was a waitress, maid, babysitter. I babysat for a couple of different families on and off. I worked as a hostess at two different restaurants. And I’ve also worked at a pet store.” I grin. “So Boop wasn’t the first spider I’ve had to handle.”

Mav visibly shudders and I laugh.

“What else?”

“Mmmm . . . retail at the mall, which I sucked at, and last summer I lifeguarded on the beach.”

The pan slips from his hands and clatters into the sink. He curses and fumbles as he grabs it. His eyes flicker over to me. “Are we talkin’ red bathing suit, runnin’ in the sand, and savin’ people?”

I pause and turn a little. “Well, technically, I only had to run to try to save someone once. The rest of the summer, I just sat or stood on the platform, watched the beach goers, and the water for sharks. But I liked it the best because I could bring Will with me and let her play in the sand.”

“Do you still have the swim suit?

I laugh. “It’s really not as sexy as people think.”

“Makes me hard just thinkin’ about it.” He smirks over at me. “Next time Nick has a pool party, remind me to pretend to drown so you’ll come save me.”

I shake my head. Through a laugh, I say, “Maybe I’ll let you drown.”

“Nah, you’d save me.”

My insides dance in agreement, but the grin he’s giving me is too knowing for my taste, so I shove the wet pan at him and he jerks back as I get him all wet.

He dries the last pan and asks, “What kind of job would you want if you could have your pick?”

The plans I used to have when I was younger come back to me. I had it all laid out. My grades were phenomenal. I had joined the math club and the swim team knowing I would have a better chance at a scholarship if I did. And a scholarship meant I could get myself out of the cruddy apartment and the life I was stuck in.

Shrugging, I reply, “I used to want to be a teacher. Elementary or junior high. I didn’t care. But to do that now, I need to get my GED and save money for college. So I don’t know. I guess I’d be happy with something that lets me work with kids.”

He considers me for a moment while he dries and then puts a pan down on the counter. “You sound like you’re already giving up. If you want to be a teacher then—”

“I’m not.”

“You can still do it. If that’s what you want to do.”

I nod and begin cleaning again. “I know. But it’s a ways off is all.”

Mav walks out of the kitchen as if we weren’t right in the middle of a conversation. To be honest I’m kind of offended. I know he thinks I should fight harder for what I want.

He comes back in carrying a manila folder on top of a pile of books.

Caught off guard and surprised I whisper, “Where did you get those?”

“I have a friend that teaches at the local high school. When you told me how you had to drop out, I called him this morning and asked what you’d need to study to take your GED.”

“Mav . . .”

“I told you I was gonna make up for some of the terrible shit I did to you, Doll. This is only the start of it.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.” He taps the folder. “The papers in here will tell you what you need to know to be ready for the test. There’s some quizzes and pretests you can take too. I’ll get internet set up so you can study here if you want, or at Bethany’s, whatever you need.”

He’s pushing me. And although it’s a little alarming, I can’t deny I need it. I’ve always been awful about taking care of my own needs. Usually everyone else’s come first.