Up In Flames (25 page)

I was going to break up with the guy who was planning on asking me to marry him tonight.

Life had a sick sense of humor. Or timing.

Or both.

“I already think of you as a daughter, Elle, but it will be wonderful when it’s official.”

Two ton weight of guilt . . . you’ve got nothing on what just busted my back.

“I’d better stop talking your ear off so you can go find Logan.” She flashed me a knowing smile. “I want to be the first to know. I pummeled that into him earlier, but in case he’s got the memory of his father, I’m telling you. Mother-in-law is the first to know,” she said, sticking her thumb into her chest. “Okay?”

It took me a few moments before I could reply. “Okay,” I said softly. “Logan or I will let you know what happens.”

Just then, a small mercy popped up beside Mrs. Matthews. Mrs. Peterson, one of the fellow Festival planning committee members, had a stoic look on her face.

“Sorry to interrupt, Marny, but I just thought you should know that bunch of smokejumpers just showed up,” she said, shaking her head.

My head whipped around instinctually, scanning for a familiar face.

“A few of them are pretty drunk already and the night is young. You know what happened last year . . .”

If I hadn’t been so preoccupied looking for Cole, I might have grinned. Mrs. Peterson’s and my definition of a tragedy were on opposite ends of the spectrum. My mom dying so young was a tragedy to me; to her, a few buzzed smokejumpers who’d held a contest to see who could climb to the top of the Ferris wheel first at last year’s Festival was a tragedy.

If any sort of encore performance was planned for this year, I knew Cole would be at the front of the line.

Mrs. Matthews made a face. “I’ll let Sheriff Montgomery know so he can keep tabs on them,” she said, her eyes automatically drifting in the direction of the Ferris wheel. No band of death wish smokejumpers hanging from it yet. “Thanks for letting me know.”

I waved at the two women before making my way through the crowd. I knew I needed to find Logan first. I had to talk with him before I could look for Cole because I knew if I found Cole first, I’m be consumed by him. All reason and restraint and better judgment would fly off with the fried food scented wind and I couldn’t do that with Logan in the same vicinity.

Plus, I also knew Cole likely wouldn’t touch me if he knew I hadn’t broken things off with Logan. So, even though my eyes scanned the crowd for Cole, I went in search of Logan.

I’d almost made my way to the corn dog stand when a pair of arms wound around me from behind.

“Looking for someone?” Logan’s familiar voice and the hint of hopefulness shot a stab of pain right through me. Just the tone of his voice was about to bring me to my knees. How was I going to make it through this?

I didn’t have the answer to that. All I knew was that I had to do it.

I twisted in his arms, trying not to let those blue eyes of his I’d stared into thousands of times cripple me. “Not anymore,” I answered him.

Logan studied my face and his forehead creased. I knew I looked almost as bad as I felt. I couldn’t hide it. It would have been a wasted effort.

I might as well get this over with before I lost all control.

“I need to talk to you,” I said quietly. “Alone.” A handful of Logan’s friends and teammates were scattered around us and the buzz of Festival noise made it hard to think, let alone tell a boy I’d loved for the past couple of years I wasn’t in love with him anymore.

Logan’s face fell, but not in worry. In nervousness.

Mrs. Matthews hadn’t been exaggerating. He was really going to do this tonight.

“I need to talk to you, too,” he said, shifting in place. “And I’d prefer to do it in privacy, too.” He shifted again. He was crazy nervous.

“You want to get out of here?” I said, nodding for the parking lot. I wasn’t eager to leave the Festival now that I knew Cole was likely wandering around, but right now, Logan was my priority.

“Yeah,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair, “but not until you dance with me.” He grabbed my hand and starting leading me towards the same band playing the same songs from the same stage to the same husbands and wives, boyfriends and girlfriends, lovers and ex-lovers, all moving on a dance floor of uneven earth.

I held back. I wasn’t a dancing queen, nor was I a dancing fiend.

I was more a dancing dud.

“Come on, it’s tradition,” Logan said, pleading with his eyes. “We haven’t missed a year of dancing to ‘our’ song since we were twelve years old.” There might not have been a romantic spark between us back then, but our friendship was our bond. A lump formed in my throat when I realized I wasn’t only breaking up with a boyfriend tonight, I was breaking up with a good friend.

“I can’t let tonight be the year we miss our dance,” he continued. “I’d never forgive myself.” He smiled that Logan smile of his. “Come on. For me?”

It might have been the guilt. It might have been the way I cared for him. Or it might have been our history together. Whatever it was, I answered him with a single nod and let him lead me towards the stage.

Logan didn’t stop until we were in front of center stage. Motioning up at the singer—a guy who was in the choir at church—Logan dropped his arms around me and drew me close.

The band stopped playing their upbeat rendition of an oldie and broke into something slow and familiar. And yet, just like so much of this town was becoming, it was a bit foreign too.

“Our song,” Logan said, his face bright.

“Our song,” I whispered, realizing this was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

Logan had worked out with the band that with a nod of his head, they’d stop what they were playing and break into our song. On the same night he was planning on asking me to marry him. Knowing this, along with the gleam in his eye and the set of his brow, I knew what was coming. Of a mere minute or two away.

“I love you, Elle,” he began as a sheen of sweat surfaced on his forehead.

Crap. He was really going to do this thing. Right here and now.

So much for leading me to believe he wanted privacy for what he had to talk with me about tonight.

“I love you so, so much and I know you’re the girl for me. I’ve known that from the first day I met you.”

“Wait,” I said, shaking my head. “Stop.”

Logan’s mouth clamped shut and he waited.

“Why do you love me, Logan? Do you know why? Can you list the reasons why?” My words bubbled to the surface faster than I could speak them. “Why are you with me? Do you know why you want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

Logan’s face dropped. I could have just slapped him from the way he looked. “What?” he said after a while, sounding as baffled as he looked.

“Why are you with me, Logan? Why do you want to spend your life with me?” I asked, doing the best I could to make hard words sound soft.

Logan thought about this for a few moments while he held me close and moved in time to the slow song drifting around us. “Because I can’t imagine anyone else I’d rather be with.”

I tried to follow his lead as we danced, but I couldn’t. I’d stopped following Logan’s lead weeks ago and I suppose that even translated onto the dance floor. Eventually I just gave up and we wound up just standing in place, with his arms around me, staring at one another.

“So you can’t think of anyone else you’d rather be with,” I repeated. “But what does that have to do with
me
? Why do you love
me
?”

Logan’s face couldn’t have gotten more confused. “Because I do, Elle.”

I inhaled and didn’t back down. “Why?”

“What? You want a list or something? A spreadsheet of reasons why I love you?” he said, his voice going a little high.

I lifted my brows and waited.

“I don’t have a list, Elle. Sorry.” Then, with a sigh, Logan slid one hand into his jacket pocket. “But I do have something that I think will demonstrate just how much I do love you and how I want to be with you. Forever.”

I shook my head and started backing away. “No, Logan,” I whispered.

When he raised his eyes and saw me backing away from him, he froze. “Elle?”

I had to get away. Right now. “I’m sorry,” I mouthed before turning and weaving through the obstacles of dancers and spectators.

So much for being strong tonight. So much for taking Logan aside and telling him it was over. So much for my whole plan.

I heard him call out my name as I sprinted away, but after I’d made it away from the stage and was halfway down food row, I couldn’t hear Logan anymore. People started to look at me curiously as I jogged. I suppose any crying, nearly hyperventilating person would attract some attention. So instead of heading for the Jeep so I could calm down and refigure how this whole night was going to go, I ducked inside a white canvas tent.

I was in luck because, not only was it dark and quiet, it was empty. It must have been some sort of storage area where the food vendors could stock their stuff because boxes and pallets of food and drink took up almost the entire tent.

I leaned into the closest tower of boxes and dropped my head below my knees. I needed to breathe. I’d never had one before, but I guessed what I was experiencing was very close to a panic attack. I wasn’t sure what would kill me first: lack of oxygen or cardiac arrest. It didn’t seem to matter how many breaths I took or how slow I tried to inhale and exhale them, I felt quite confident I was going to die or pass out if I didn’t get myself together and calm down.

As soon as I started to feel like my heart was slowing down, I’d remember Logan reaching into his pocket and I’d be right back in heart thumping through my chest mode.

“Elle,” a voice as worried as it was relieved broke through the tent right before a strong set of arms pulled me to him. “What’s the matter?” Cole’s fingers wove through my hair and drew my head to his chest. And just like that, I found the calm that had been evading me.

Or at least a margin of calm.

I slipped my arms around him and squeezed him hard. “How did you find me?”

“I just asked if anyone had seen the crying, frantic girl charging through the Festival like a madwoman and they pointed me this way,” he said lightly, holding me a little tighter. “No, I was just getting here and saw you duck inside.”

“I suppose I was kind of hard to miss,” I said with a sigh. Everyone would be asking me what had happened the moment I left the tent. So maybe I just wouldn’t leave it until everyone was gone.

“Yes, Elle. You most certainly are hard to miss.” Cole’s voice was so full of meaning and his body was so firm against mine, I kind of melted. I let myself go for a few seconds and pushed away everything but the here and now.

Just like that, I could breathe again.

“What happened?”

Just like that, breathing became hard again.

“Logan,” I started. Cole’s body tensed at the name alone. “He’s planning on asking me to marry him tonight.” His body went tenser still.

“And he’s planning on asking you this because he stills thinks you’re planning on spending your life with him because you haven’t called it off yet?” Cole was better at it than Logan, but he couldn’t totally mask the level of hurt in his voice.

“Yes.”

Cole couldn’t have tensed any more without snapping in half.

“Why haven’t you told him yet? Has something changed?”

From hurting one boy to hurting another. I was on a real roll here.

“I haven’t told him because he literally just got back into town, Cole. I was planning on telling Logan tonight, but then . . .” I trailed off. I didn’t want to repeat the word marry and Logan in the same sentence with Cole so rigid against me. “And no, nothing has changed.” I bit my lip as I realized something might have changed for him. “At least, nothing’s changed for me. I still choose you, Cole. I still want you.”

His body softened a little then, but went rigid in other places. “Good,” he said, lowering his mouth to my ear. “Because I want you, too.”

Relief flooded my body. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said and the air around us changed. His hands grabbed my hips and he shoved me up against a wall of boxes. This wasn’t helping my breathing problem.

“Here,” he said in a low, rough voice as his hand skimmed down to the hem of my skirt. A rush of air escaped my lips when he lifted my skirt all the way up and pressed his hips hard into me.

“Now.” This time, he inhaled sharply when I covered his mouth with mine.

I kissed him like I wanted him to make me forget. I kissed him like I wanted him to make me remember. I kissed him like all we had was here and now.

I kissed him carpe diem.

When his mouth moved to my neck, I looped my legs around his waist and slid up and down him until he was more panting against my neck than sucking at it. He pressed me harder into the boxes, like we couldn’t create enough friction between the two of us and really, at this rate, he was going to make me come before he even got inside.

When I heard his zipper lower, I moaned and lowered my mouth to the side of his neck to muffle the noise. It was noisy outside the tent, but it was noisy inside of it too and I didn’t want to have anyone investigating if they heard my heady moans.

Cole smelled like his usual brand of scents. Soap, salt, and . . .

“You smell like soot,” I said.

Cole chuckled. “Occupational hazard.”

I buried my nose in his hair, where the scent was strongest, and inhaled. “It’s kind of turning me on though.”

“Benefits of the job, too,” he said right as his finger slipped inside my panties.

My fingernails dug into his back as his finger trailed down. “Damn, Elle,” he said, moving just barely inside of me. “You really must be all turned on.” I arched my back and lowered my hips until his whole finger went inside. A stream of air hissed through his teeth as another finger moved inside of me. “I’m going to have to remember to keep a can of soot handy so I can sprinkle it on me before you come over.”

“Sounds good to me,” I managed to get out before his thumb started circling my clit.

“Elle?” He didn’t sound like he was fairing any better in the getting words out.