Burning for You (6 page)

“The universe will pay you back. You’re building up good karma,” Joe replied. His beer had lost some froth as he’d drunk about a third.

She fiddled with the fork she didn’t need. “I’m not sure I believe that anymore. It certainly hasn’t so far. I’m even trying the graduate school route so I can go into teaching. There was this competition I was going to enter, but I couldn’t get my professor to sign off on my project. I just keep hoping it’ll get better.”

“Well, you met me, didn’t you?” He gave her that trademark grin, the one that she liked more and more the longer she sat with him.

She tilted her head. Considered. Refused to concede. “I’m not sure that’s a convincing argument that good things are coming my way.”

“I do.” Joe spoke without a doubt in the world. “At some point fate’s got to give, right? That you’ve paid whatever debt you think you owe and that life suddenly smiles on you? That you are on the right side of things for once?”

She drank more wine, letting the fuzzy feeling go to her head. She liked how her cheeks warmed. With food, the pleasant sensation would quickly fade, leaving her very sober, back to the reality of the night, and her life.

“I wouldn’t say fate is working against me. I’m just not where I want to be. I had these visions of getting out of college, getting hired by a big New York City magazine, and seeing the world. Didn’t happen and within two years I was back home.”
And dating Owen.

“But my life isn’t bad,” she continued. “Not when you like what you do, and I do love my photography. It just doesn’t pay the bills so I’m late nights at Presley’s. It’s that or move home, and so far I’ve managed to say no to my mom’s constant pressure to do that. What about you?”

A shadow passed over his face, or maybe the flicker was Leo bringing their homemade chips and cheese dip. He set them down, asked if they needed anything else and, when both shook their heads, left.

“Why’d you become a firefighter?” she asked, loading up her plate with chips and cheese. The rarebit was fabulous.

“It’s in my blood,” he said, putting chips on his plate. “My dad was one. My brother-in-law is one. My grandfather.”

“You have a large family?”

She’d given him the opportunity he needed. “Yes. There are six of us kids. I’m the oldest. My sister Susie is a burn survivor. She’s the one married to a firefighter. Not many people can see past her scars, but he could.”

“I’m sorry.”

He waved her comment aside, as if brushing away a mosquito that dared get through the perimeter. “It was a long time ago. She’s why I’m so passionate about the book I’m doing for burn survivors.”

He wiped the sweat off the glass. His leg had come into contact with hers; the denim rubbing against her bare calf. “See, I made my sister a promise, long ago. She’s part of the Burns Recovered Support Group. The book will be portraits of burn survivors and their stories. A celebration of triumph. After what I saw tonight, I know you’re the photographer I want.”

“Oh.” Taylor washed down the cheese-covered chips with more wine.

He drummed his fingers on the metal table. “It’ll be a great opportunity, but we can’t pay you anything. But the exposure will be great.” He gave a harsh laugh. “You probably hear that a lot.”

“A time or two.” Taylor realized her wine was almost empty, so she drank the last sip. “I make tons of cold calls trying to drum up business and trying to get invitations to bid. It’s how I landed the calendar project. A lot of blind luck and the fact I work cheap. They couldn’t afford anyone else. I was the lowest bidder. But it paid off. So I get it. You had to ask.”

“How much do you charge? Like, what was the price for the calendar shoot?”

Taylor named the figure. “And that includes all the postproduction work. That takes tons of time. I’m still Photoshopping the calendar-shoot pictures.”

Joe shook his head. “I can’t afford that. Neither can the group.”

She could hear the disappointment in his voice. “I can help you find someone.”

“I’d rather have you.”

The words washed over her, making Taylor wish he meant them in another context. She’d connected with him on a level she didn’t understand. Frankly, her attraction scared her. She’d let him climb into her car, taken him on tonight’s emotional shoot. She’d never shared that experience with anyone. After what had happened with Owen, the fact she’d immediately trusted him spoke volumes.

Joe reached for a chip, dipped it in rarebit, and placed the cheesy morsel in his mouth. Perfect lips wrapped around the bite. He was temptation personified—she had the urge to see him open those blue-gray-greens on the pillow next to hers. And what would it be like to run her fingers through that luscious hair while she made love to him?

She hiccupped, so she took a deep breath then reached for her water. After a long drink, she calmed. Just one hiccup this time, not more.
Whew
. “You’ll find the right photographer.”

“I have. Your empathy makes you the right person for this project. I realized that when I saw you behind the lens during the calendar shoot. Now, after what I just saw, I’m positive. This book is going to get a lot of publicity. Would that help sway your decision?”

“So will the calendar,” she pointed out.

He arched his eyebrows. “You can’t use more?”

She wavered. “Of course I can, but …”

He pressed on, sensing her indecision. “Many of the participants are civic leaders. You’d be amazed at the list of who’s who and you’d make some extremely valuable connections. One man is the leader of the St. Louis Film Commission. He works with every movie that’s made in the bi-state area.”

“Which haven’t been a lot,” Taylor felt compelled to point out.

“True.” He popped another chip into his mouth. “But he was involved in
Gone Girl
when it filmed down in Cape. You have to start somewhere.”

She sighed. “I’ve been trying to start somewhere since I graduated. Do you know how many unemployed photojournalists are out there?”

“More than there are jobs, which is why you need mine.” They were making serious headway on the chips, and she reached for another. Chewed. Swallowed. Considered what it was about him that made her throw caution to the wind and say yes.

He continued. “Look, I have an SLR that I play around with, usually when I’m out on a hike or climb, but there’s no way I can do what you do. I’ve tried. Since your degree will let you teach, can I pay you to give me some lessons? You could help me take the portraits of my sister. I should be able to afford that. Do you take family portraits?”

“I take everything.”

“So how much do you charge for that?”

The waiter brought her another glass of wine, one she hadn’t ordered. She glanced at Joe. “Did you order this?”

He nodded. “You looked like you needed it. So? How much?”

The Riesling was ice cold and refreshing. “Well, there’s the sitting fee based on the amount of time and the number of pictures I take. I include the disk free as part of my services. You take it to Walgreens and print whatever pictures you want yourself. The machine will even let you pick the sizes.” After another sip of wine, she named some figures.

He didn’t seem bothered by the costs, which were a fraction of the calendar shoot, so she relaxed. “That’s doable, so how about I hire you to photograph my family? My mother’s wanted all four generations in one big picture—not all of the grandchildren were at the last wedding and my grandparents are creeping up there. Since Mom’s birthday is the beginning of July, I’ll give her a family portrait sitting as a present. Will that work? I’ll have to run the idea by her, but I’m positive she’ll say yes.”

She opened her mouth, but as if sensing she might answer him with a question, he kept going. “Besides, my mother knows everyone. If she loves your photos, she’ll drum up business for you all over the South Side. She’s a human tornado. No problem she can’t solve. So portraits and lessons. How can you say no?”

“With me needing cash, you know I can’t.” She shifted, aware she’d had her leg pressed next to his for a long time. “Only a fool turns down paid jobs. So. I’ll give you a lesson and take your family portraits at the price I quoted.”

He settled back in his chair. “Good. It’s settled then.”

“I require fifty percent down.”

That wicked grin returned, tugging at something deep inside her. “Not a problem. I’ll call her tomorrow. See how simple that was? I’ve never met a problem I can’t solve. It’s why I like firefighting. It’s man versus fire.”

“I’m not a fire.”

“No, but I’m hardwired to help. It’s my nature, and this is mutually beneficial. Just think of all the time we get to spend together.” He raised his beer glass, reached forward to tap it lightly against hers. “Cheers. I think this is a great plan.”

She studied him over the rim. The wine had made her relaxed. Correction. Warm. Mellow. Slightly giddy. “We don’t have a plan.”

“No?” He tilted his head. Wrinkled his nose.

She shook her head. “No. We agreed, that’s all. An agreement is not a plan. Plans are outlines. Details. To-do lists. I’m a meticulous planner. Drives my mom nuts. She swears I can’t be her child since she’s such a free spirit.”

He laughed. “So tell me how your plan works where I’m concerned.”

Her brow creased. “Honestly, I don’t know. I haven’t figured it—you—out yet, or your real endgame.”

“Well, I told you. My book. As for getting together so we can plan, I’m off for forty-eight more hours, so we’d have time to meet up.”

“Must be nice.”

“Not really, considering I only got about six hours sleep total over the forty-eight hours I was on shift. Dealt with a three-alarm fire and a bunch of EMS calls. Every time we finished one, we went out again. Also, I had report after report to complete. I have to get those done before I leave. In between all that is the daily work that must be done.”

“Yeah, I guess that would be hectic. I overslept today. I’d planned on getting more photos Photoshopped, but now I’ll have to do them tomorrow.”

“So your perfect plan went to hell.”

She laughed. “As it so often does. Case in point, I’m here with you.”

“Well, I’m glad you broke your plans.” He directed the full force of his charming smile at her, making her toes tingle.

They polished off the last of their chips. He pointed at the empty basket. “Shall we order a pretzel? Or would you like something else?”

A pretzel sounded wonderful, and she wasn’t ready to leave. Could she admit it? She was actually enjoying herself. “Let me call into work. Check on things first.”

His eyes twinkled with mirth. “Good plan.”

Taylor made the call, and John told her the place wasn’t yet crowded now that the diners had cleaned out. “Just be back in about an hour,” he told her.

Taylor hung up. Joe gazed expectantly. “Well?”

“The pretzel will be fine. I’ve got another hour.” Especially since the bread would absorb the wine. Her face had heated with that wonderful wine numbness, meaning she definitely needed to sit longer before even thinking about driving. Besides, the evening and company had actually turned out better than expected. Joe wasn’t exactly the jerk she’d thought he was earlier. Sure, he had rough edges, but he was a charmer. An unabashed flirt. He couldn’t help himself, she decided. Like all the heroes in the escapist, delicious romance novels she loved, he just needed a good woman.

She must have already imbibed too much wine, for the thought that she could be that woman flickered across that wine. Leo popped by, Joe ordered, and Taylor sought safer ground.

“I can’t imagine growing up with five siblings,” she said, reaching for her water. Heck, she needed a long, sobering drink before she had him starring in tonight’s dreams as well.

“The youngest is Elaina. She’s twenty-five.”

“A year younger. Almost my age.”

“You’d probably get along. We’re one big Italian family. You should see our get-togethers.”

“Elaina’s not the one who was burned.” Taylor worked to keep everyone straight. She’d never been this much of a lightweight.

Joe shook his head. “No, that’s Susie. She’s twenty-seven.”

“How did it happen?”

His face clouded, as if the memory took him back to a bad place. “A grass fire that got out of control.”

“How old was she?” Taylor sipped more water. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry, but you were the one who bought me that second glass of wine. I get chatty when I drink. Bad, annoying habit.”

“It’s okay. She was five. I was twelve. I couldn’t save her from getting hurt.” More of the dark ale he’d nursed all night passed his lips.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

“It’s okay.” He parroted. “Bad things happen to good people.”

She thought of her father. Of Owen. Understood where Joe was coming from. A light breeze blew, and she reached up and removed her ponytail holder. Natural blonde curls cascaded around her shoulders, and she reached behind her neck and shook the strands to loosen them. Thankfully nothing had frizzed too badly. “So is your sister the real reason why you’re a firefighter?”

“One of many,” he admitted. “It’s why this book is so important to me. Susie never felt beautiful. Growing up, people thought her freakish. All that burned skin. All those reconstructions, but it’s never perfect again. People recoil. You can literally see them do it.”

While Taylor had grown up with other children wondering why her father had never attended any school events, Taylor couldn’t imagine what Susie had gone through. “I’m sorry.”

“Then she met Parker and thank God he saw beyond the surface. They’ve been married for five years, and I’m godfather to their three-year-old daughter, Winnie. I’m grateful he came into her life. She deserves to be happy.”

“Yes, she does. We all do.” Taylor recognized underlying guilt when she saw it. She’d had enough guilt herself over the last few years and could tell he had it in spades.

“Can I be blunt?” she asked. “You were just a child.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Joe’s fingers flexed hard against his glass.

“Yes, it does. When I was seven, before I lost him, my father gave me some good advice. He said you help everyone you can, and as long as you tried, as long as you did your best, that’s what matters. It’s why I take the photos. Why I keep fighting even when I’m down.”