Flirting with Fire (Hot in Chicago #1) (28 page)

Truth was never simple, but this one toppled her.
Luke Almeida toppled her. He was her ideal mate, a man she could trust to hold and protect her, the one she wanted to father the children she had pretended were not a factor in her lonely future. He understood her like no one else. Respected her like no one else. She could build a miraculous life with this man.

But she could not take him away from his family.

“I appreciate that you came all this way . . .” At the flash of hurt on his face, she considered backpedaling, but there were no safe spaces that would leave either of them happy. “That you thought for even one moment of moving here to be with me, but there’s not enough between us to justify a decision so drastic.”

He bolted upright to a stand. “I know you hate to lose, Kinsey, but I never thought I’d see the day that you hate to win. Have I somehow lost points with you because I’ve compromised here? Because I’m not stubbornly holding on to your idealized version of manhood?”

“No, Luke, that’s not it. That you would think of doing this for me is terribly flattering.” She cringed at how false those words rang out. Nothing sounded right.

“Terribly flattering,” he said, his voice robotic. “I didn’t intend it as a compliment, sweetheart. I intended it as me laying out my truth so we could start our life together. I love you and I know that you feel the . . .” As he trailed off, realization crept over his face by degrees. It horrified her to watch where his mind veered.

“Say it,” he growled.

“Luke . . .”

“Say. It.”

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand, and she stood because he deserved directness. “I care about you, Luke. I want only good things for you but”—may God not strike her down—“I don’t love you.”

He blinked a few times, and with each shutter of his eyelids, the light in those gorgeous blue eyes dimmed, darkened. Died. There was a moment of terrifying unknowability between them, as if a door was being cemented shut.

“Damn, you’d think after years on the job I’d have developed better instincts than this.” Slowly, he scrubbed his mouth. “Have I really got it that wrong?”

In that moment, she hated herself. The list of why was endless, but up top was that she had made him doubt those instincts he usually trusted implicitly to keep his body and family safe. She wanted to scream that he wasn’t wrong. This wonderful man standing before her was so right that she could barely move for needing him. She wanted to tell him that she loved how he took this problem between them and solved it with his head instead of his fists. But she worried for his heart—that huge, pumping engine in his chest. It needed care and love.

Dempsey care. Dempsey love.

Stealing him away from them would shrivel his heart to a raisin. She couldn’t possibly be enough for him. She hadn’t been for David. While she had no doubt Luke would fit her life like a glove, and that everyone she knew would come to love him as much as she did, there would always be that nagging thread of tension bordering on resentment between them.

I gave them up for you. Now prove to me I didn
’t make the mistake of my life.

She just couldn’t live with that pressure.

“I’m sorry, Luke,” she said as her heart shattered into a million screaming pieces. “I . . . I hope we can be friends.”

He took a step toward her. Not a friendly step.

Then another.

Fighting every instinct to shrink, fall, run like the coward she was, she stood her ground and let him curl one strong, rough hand around her neck.

For the last time.

The reveal of emotion turned his handsome features harsh. She thought she knew all the ways those blue eyes of his could speak. She’d seen anger, lust, laughter, but not this. Not heartbreak.

He searched her face, staring into her soul, looking for evidence of her lie. But she pokered up, all while inside a part of her caved in and died. His thumb carved a line along her jaw, and she started to shake because she needed his touch like a drowning woman needed air. Because any second now, it would be over.

Abruptly, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her.

No, that was too tame a word for what he did. He ravaged and destroyed, pouring into it every ounce of his passion. His mouth owned hers, held her suspended on the edge of something indescribable, and the sweet, heartbreaking taste of him imprinted on her senses. Tattooed on her heart.

Then he tore his lips from hers for the last time.

“That’s why we can’t be friends, sweetheart,” he breathed, the words like blows.

He turned and left the garden, a tower of virility, her proud man to the last. And she thanked her stars that he didn’t look back. Better that he never saw her break, wiping away the first tears she had cried since her mom died.

 CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

L
uke studied the departures board at San Francisco International Airport. His flight was delayed by two hours. Of course.

For a split second, he considered heading for the rental desk. He’d heard the Pacific Coast Highway drive was scenically epic, and the idea of jumping in a car and driving to LA (or into the ocean/off a cliff) sounded ultra appealing right now.

So much for the perfect plan. Luke was not a hearts-and-flowers kind of guy, but even he had to admit that what he had just done—or tried to do—was special. He had offered her everything. His heart, his world, it all belonged to her, and here he was, backing it up with decisive action.

Well,
whoop-de-doo.
Apparently he knew dick about women, and to top it all off, she had played the friends card.

How in the hell had he thought a woman as driven and sophisticated as Kinsey would want him for more than a few bouts of vigorous, mind-blowing sex? Had he learned nothing from the crash-and-burn of his marriage? He clearly didn’t have anything to offer beyond his callused hands, his billboard body, his
brutish skills between the sheets. Fling material, not good enough for the real thing.

But . . .

For a moment while he held her that last time, felt her tremble beneath his touch, he had thought the gods might cut him a break and affirm his gut on this. But, no, the gods were too busy laughing their asses off.

His phone buzzed and he pulled it out, hoping, wishing. But it was only Wyatt, which made it twice in a month. Some kind of record.

“Hey.”

Typically Wy, he got straight to the point. “Kinsey called Gage. She was worried about you.”

Nice to know
those
two were still friends.

“That’s the last time I take advice from you, Fox. So women love the big gesture? You’ve been watching too many chick flicks.”

Wyatt gave an unapologetic sniff. “Come home, Luke. The kids want to take care of you.”

“They there with you?”

“Hangin’ on every fuckin’ word.”

Luke smiled though it hurt like a rotted tooth. He could see them clearly, jockeying for position, working so hard to keep their lips sealed while Wyatt played spokesman for their collective love. The ache in his chest eased slightly, but right now, the Dempseys were the last people he wanted to see.

Without quite knowing how it happened, he found his feet had moved him outside the terminal to the car rental shuttle stop. Whichever one arrived first would be the recipient of his business.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken
a vacation, other than one enforced by his bad behavior, and it had been even longer since he actually relaxed. Apart from a firefighter safety conference in Dallas, his tour of Iraq, and now this effed-up pleasure ride to California, he had never left Chicago.

“I need a couple of days, Wy. I’ll call Venti and let him know—”

“Consider it done,” his brother said. “As long as you want.”

The Avis shuttle rounded the corner of the terminal and came to a halt in front of him.
Ding, ding, ding,
we have a winner.

In the pause before he hung up, he heard Gage call out, “Love you, Luke.”

Hell and damn, that kid killed him sometimes.

A few days away might help to screw his head on straight, but he’d need longer to plug the gaping hole in his chest.

F
ive days later, Luke was back in Chicago and his chest still felt like it’d been scooped out to make a canoe. And then there was his scalp, which was still on fire from driving in a convertible on the PCH without a hat.

Totally worth it, though. The sheer majesty of the twisting, cliff-hugging route down the coast had knocked his socks off. Might have been nice to share it with a California native—one California native in particular—but he needed to terminate that line of thinking stat. One day he might be able to acknowledge that it was good to take a chance and put himself out there. He couldn’t imagine what that day
would look like, but he wasn’t as resentful and bitter as he had been a year ago in the aftermath of Lisa.

It was 6:45 a.m. as Luke strode through his firehouse, past the gym, past the trophies for the softball league and Beck’s four straight wins at the Battle of the Badges, past the photo collage with the smiling faces of Engine 6, a mix of current crew and friends long gone.

This was his house and these people were his family, both Dempsey and the brotherhood of the CFD. The best company in Chicago, this city born of fire. Not such a bad place to be.

In the locker room, Luke found Gage changing for his shift. Since hooking up with his chef, he looked a little older, wiser, and a whole lot more happy. Chatterbox Gage and the mute Marine. Pretty crazy.

“Mail’s in.”

The kid held up an envelope. Luke didn’t need to squint to know what it was.

“Give it here, bro.”

“Not before I’ve gathered an audience of your peers.” Gage released a high-pitched whistle.

“They’re not dogs, idiot,” Luke muttered, his stomach roiling with nerves even as he tried to play it cool. He had thought he’d aced the exam two weeks ago, but given his rusty instincts of late, who the hell knew?

“What are you doing here?” he asked Alex and Beck as they tromped in with the rest. Neither of them were due on shift.

“Gage told me to stop by,” Alex said. “Heard there was a big announcement.”

Beck merely shrugged. “I was hungry. Best food’s here.”

Wyatt strolled in, sparing a cursory glance for the crowd. He removed the envelope from Gage’s hand and handed it over to Luke.

“Just open it and put them out of their misery.”

“Come on,” Alex urged. “You’re cutting into my beach time, Luke.”

After tearing open the envelope, he unfolded the sheet of paper, praying he had made the grade, because if he had to endure any more of the sad eyes from his family, he’d be back on a plane heading anywhere quicker than you could say “Fly the friendly skies.”

He sighed and watched the faces of his siblings drop. “Only . . . a ninety-six.”

“What?” Panicked, Alex looked at her brothers. “Don’t worry, Luke, next time—hey, wait. That’s a pass, isn’t it?”

“With flying colors,” Beck said. “Good job, Luke. No one deserves it more.”

The rest of them crowded around, and soon the entire A shift had trod through with back claps, congratulations, and not a small amount of speculation about where he might be assigned.

“Engine 69 needs an officer,” Derek said. “My cousin works over there.”

This was met with a chorus of profanity and lewd suggestions as to what exactly happens at 69. Amid the raucous noise, Luke reflected on how it felt like the end of an era. His entire career in CFD—his entire life—was dedicated to protecting his family. It would be strange not to work with them anymore.

He caught Wyatt’s eye. His brother nodded imperceptibly, an assurance that he’d do whatever it took
to keep their pledge. Whether he stayed at 6 or was transferred out, Luke knew one thing.

It was time to move on with his life.

K
insey poured herself a cup of joe, needing the boost before she hit the shower after a twilight jog. Her muscles ached and she was glad of it. She had it coming.

Her phone rang and her heart hitched, then dropped on seeing who it was.

“What?”

“Sounds like you need to get laid,” Jax said. “But of course you had your chance and you blew it.” Her brother was still pissed at her for turning down a solid guy like Luke. Apparently, they had “really bonded.”

“Your bro-crush is showing. If I can get over it, so can you.”

He ignored that. “You finally meet a guy who I wouldn’t be ashamed to have a beer with and you go soft. Stop feeling sorry for him because you’re so amazing that he wants to move across the country to be with you. He’s probably thrilled at the chance to get away from his blood-sucking family—”

“Yeah, my time away from you lot was the best six months of my life.”

“See? That’s the kind of ruthlessness I know and love from my baby sister.” He chuckled. “Time to bring it, Kinsey. Time to step up.”

“Thanks, Coach. Is this why you called?”

“No, but my wisdom, even when unsolicited, has a price. I want your help picking out an engagement ring for Ali. Meet me for lunch tomorrow.”

She growled. “Congratulations. My commiserations to your clueless bride.”

On his laugh, she hung up on him. That he and Ali were getting engaged didn’t surprise her, but it would be awhile before she could appreciate it.

“Hey, punkin. Good run?” Her father had strolled in from the backyard to top off his glass of wine.

She nodded as she let the coffee bring her back to life, at least for a little while. It couldn’t do right by her heart, though.

“You know you can stay here as long as you need to. No hurry to find your own place.”

“Living in the city makes more sense, Dad.” For now, she’d commute, but she had begun a halfhearted search for an apartment closer to the new job she would start tomorrow.

“Kinsey—”

“Are you going to tell me I should be enrolling in law school, Dad? That these politicians are bad news?”

His mouth tightened with concern. “No, I was going to ask if you’d heard from Luke. It’s been a week since his visit. ”

Guilt that she had snapped at him flooded her sore chest. Her father’s gaze was overflowing with love she didn’t deserve right now. She was undateable, unlovable. Just
un
.

“No, I haven’t heard from him and I don’t expect to. I really hurt him, Dad.”

Her father chuckled when she could have done with some sympathy. “You’re so like your mom, Kinsey.”

“I’m hoping you mean that in a good way. I really need to hear something nice right now.”

He rounded the kitchen island and put his strong arm around her.

“I mean it in the best way. Do you know how long it took to get her to marry me?”

Oh, God. First Jax, now this. She was so not in the mood for a recounting of the romance to end all romance. “All of sixty seconds. You showed up in that classroom and swept her off her feet and the rest is history.”

“No, Kinsey. That was just the beginning of the long, hard road to capture that woman’s heart. She didn’t want to make the kids cry by turning me down, so instead she kissed me and led me to the corridor, then told me that I was going to have to do better than that.”

Kinsey blinked. This was
not
the version of the fairy tale that had entered the Taylor annals. Everyone knew Dad was on leave from Okinawa and then—
hey presto!
—he and Mom were together. Those were the facts. The end.

“But how could you do better than that? What you did was perfect.” She should know. The same thing had happened to her exactly one week ago.

Her father shook his head, smiling in memory. “Not for your mother, it wasn’t. She was a practical woman. She didn’t want to live on a military base in Japan, and she didn’t want her first months or years as an army wife to be spent alone, so she said as soon as I was stationed stateside, she’d reconsider. So I worked on that, and a year later, when I was reassigned to the West Coast, she agreed to marry me. ’Cause she was stubborn.”

Setting aside the fact that everything Kinsey
thought she knew about her parents’ courtship was a barefaced lie, she readied herself for the usual defense. “Dad, this isn’t a case of female orneriness or a woman being difficult. You know what happened with David.”

“Luke’s not David, Kinsey. Would David have come for you like that? The minute you turned that corner into the backyard, Luke’s face lit up like the Golden Gate. He was so excited to see the girl he loves.”

Then she ruined his day. His week. Maybe his life.

Maybe her own.

“Love’s not the problem,” Kinsey countered. “I can’t allow him to give up everything he knows, and if I go back to Chicago, I’ll feel like I’m giving in. Like before.”

He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture curled up and pressed on the space under her heart. “Oh, honey. Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t have married again. Given you a positive female role model.”

“So I could understand my place better?” she joked, not really feeling it.

“So you could understand the art of compromise. Why is this a competition? Why can’t you both win? Even as a kid, you always had to beat your brothers. Had to be the best at everything. No such thing as a draw in your world.”

Her chest ached like it was on fire. “Dad—”

“No, listen. You were with David for a long time, but it never seemed like you were truly with him. It was as if his life was on one path and yours was on another. Side by side for a while, sometimes veering off, but never crossing. Never coming together as one.
How long did it take him to finally pop the question? To make a true commitment to you? And you didn’t push him to do right by you, either. Neither of you wanted to change for the other, not really. It was never meant to be and you know it.”

She did. She guessed she always had.

“You can be the best at something and still rely on someone—if it’s the right someone,” her father continued. “A guy who deserves you, who understands priorities. Who gets how strong and stubborn and amazing you are. Luke came for you, punkin. He was prepared to give up his people to make it so
you’re
his people. The one person he can’t do without. And I don’t think you can be without him, either.”