Burning Up (Flirting With Fire Book 1) Read online

  “Did she just say . . . ?”

  “Those words never need to be repeated. Ever.” His lips pressed into a hard line. He did not need to hear that from the woman who should be associated only with snickerdoodle cookies and fishing at the lake.

  “This resort is obviously out to get us.”

  It’d been so damn long since he’d been intimate with anyone, but it looked like it was going to be a bit longer. His need for Erin had evaporated. “I don’t think I can do this.”

  Chapter Eight

  Light slashed through the curtains as Erin woke the next morning. Jake was wrapped in a blanket on the sofa, his arm hanging off the edge. His lips were plumped into a pout, and Erin had to grip her sheets in order to hold back from going over there and taking them between her teeth.

  In a few hours, she’d be back to normal life. Well, if moving back home and living in her childhood bedroom fell into the normal category.

  It was for the best. She needed to get back and fill out some more job applications. Hopefully there’d actually be jobs to apply to, unlike when she had last checked yesterday. Plus, she wanted to see Sloane and Madison, who would no doubt hound her for every damn detail of this weekend.

  Jake rustled, and his blanket fell to the floor. He was wearing only black boxer briefs and apparently having one heck of a dream. A massive bulge tented the material, and all of Erin’s thoughts cut to static. His man-bulge game was strong, Pinterest worthy, and, really, she should stop being creepy and staring at him while he was sleeping.

  You do not want to be with Jake. That would just complicate things.

  She peered over at him again. Tattoos swirled around his biceps, cutting off at his elbows. My, her tongue could be kept busy for hours.

  Are you sure, little voice in my head? Are you really sure that it’s a bad idea?

  She’d like to say she had an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other, but really it was more of a pair of wishy-washy horny cupids shouting, You can do it!

  Jake moved around on the couch and finally sat up, grabbing the blanket and quickly throwing it over himself. She averted her eyes, pretending that she hadn’t just been watching him.

  “Morning,” he said. His voice was deeper, laced with sleep, and it hit her square between the thighs. Thoughts of last night whispered back into her mind—the way his fingers had stroked between her thighs, the way his beard had scraped against her skin as he bit her neck.

  She swallowed hard. “Hey.”

  Nothing to see here. Just the friendly neighborhood peeping tom. She went back to looking at her phone, glancing at her friends’ status updates. A bunch of staff members from her middle school had gone out last night to the local karaoke bar. She frowned, the sadness of losing her job sweeping back in like a tidal wave. She should have been out with them singing Bon Jovi. During a normal summer, she’d use these days off to grab coffee with the other science teacher, Sarah Morgansen, to coordinate their curriculum for the year. A sigh rushed past her lips. She clicked out of the app and slipped out of the bed, beelining it for the bathroom.

  By the time she’d finished in the shower, Jake was dressed and already packed. His duffel bag sat on the coffee table, zipped, his suit flopped over the top.

  “I didn’t know how you liked your coffee, so I got one with cream and one without.” He didn’t look at her. Really, he was looking everywhere in the room but her. This trip was quite possibly the worst morale booster of all time.

  “Cream, please.” He handed her the cup, and she pressed it to her lips, taking a deep pull. Oh, sweet, glorious caffeine. It could solve most of her problems, but not six foot one standing in front of her.

  “About what happened last night . . .” He trailed off, still not looking at her.

  “What about it?” Really, what was there to say? Besides, maybe, Oh hey, thank you for the first orgasm in over a year that wasn’t because of something battery operated. Somehow she didn’t think that comment would go over very well, especially with how skittish he was acting.

  “I was caught up in the moment. I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. I don’t want to lead you on or anything,” he said, frowning.

  And there came the one-two punch to her ego. She knew this was coming, but it didn’t take the sting away. Not that Jake needed to know that. So she busted out her favorite tool in her self-preservation arsenal—she faked it.

  She squared her shoulders and caught his gaze. “I was your wedding date, Jake. Nothing more.” She ignored the deflating bubble in her chest. Yes, she wanted to save a horse and ride this man like a bona fide cowgirl, but apparently last night was her Cinderella-at-the-ball moment, and the clock had chimed past midnight. The guy obviously had a lot on his plate. It didn’t help ease the burn to her ego, though. Because that was true regret in his eyes. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just pretend like last night never happened.”

  Even though every single nerve in her body screamed otherwise.

  Chapter Nine

  “So let me get this straight. You went to a wedding, and you didn’t get laid. How have we led you so astray?” Hollywood gave Jake a pitying glance and took a swig of his beer.

  Jake clenched his teeth and continued to man his station at the barbecue. Failed wedding date was one thing, but burning a burger was sacrilege.

  “You’d better watch out. If Reece hears you talking about his little sister like that, he’ll kick that pretty-boy ass of yours,” Scotty said. He’d been on A shift for years, but with the shuffling of a few people, he’d be joining them on B shift next month.

  Hollywood flipped Scotty the bird and continued doing something on his phone.

  As if on cue, Reece came out of the house with a beer.

  The four of them had started the weekly BBQ tradition a few years back. They’d added Hollywood to the mix when he had joined their unit.

  “You have fun at the wedding?” Reece asked.

  “Yeah.” He used the burgers as an excuse and kept his gaze focused on the flipper.

  “Erin have a good time?”

  Oh, you mean when she rode my hand and cried out my name? Yup. A good time was had by all, and now he was going to hell for it. “I think so.”

  Bailey peeked her head out the patio door and called, “Dad, I’m going over to Amber’s.”

  She’d been scarce all day. Unease twisted in his gut. His baby would be gone for three weeks at computer-coding camp. Proud didn’t even begin to describe what he felt for his daughter, but he was scared as hell to have her a state away for that long.

  “Be back by nine. We still need to make sure you’re all packed.”

  He still couldn’t believe his daughter had gotten into an elite computer-programming camp in California. She’d earned her spot by leading her middle-school robotics team to the state championship. The price tag attached to the camp was cringe-worthy. But a couple of extra zeros weren’t going to keep his daughter away from chasing her dreams.

  “Right.” She scoffed at him. Another Duh, Dad in the books. They seemed to be multiplying lately, and the once-great relationship they had was now becoming strained. He knew it was normal for kids to pull away once they reached middle school, but he’d always hoped that they’d be above that. That he’d always have his little girl who wore cherry ring pops on her finger and was jazzed over getting a new Barbie. One time at the mall, he’d lost her in a rack of clothes in Macy’s. Scariest goddamn fifteen minutes of his life. Now, life was feeling a lot like those fifteen minutes of hell on a perpetual loop. The bottom to Jake’s carefully crafted life crumbled beneath him.

  Maybe the time off would be a good thing. Maybe she’d come back and suddenly lose the ability to roll her eyes. Now that would make every damn penny of that camp worth it.

  “Do they always do that?” Reece said.

  “What?”

  “Emit that cloud of angst and turmoil.”

  Jake laughed. “That was her in a good mood.”

  Reec
e let out a low whistle. “Christ.”

  Jake flipped one of the burgers, placing it higher up on the grill. Parenting often went from loving certain moments to wanting to put her for sale on Craigslist the next.

  “Preaching to the choir, man. I’m turning gray over here.” He tugged at the roots of his hair, and a flash of Erin’s fingers raking over his scalp, down his neck, played behind his eyes.

  “We don’t call you Old Man for nothing. What? Are you falling asleep over there now? Need to park your La-Z-Boy by the barbecue from now on,” said Hollywood.

  Jake’s eyes snapped open. When had he shut them? What the hell had this woman done to him? He stretched his neck from side to side and ignored the sudden need pulsing through him.

  “I hope you like your burger charred, because I can arrange that,” Jake said.

  “That’s right. Rule number one, Hollywood: never fuck with the person who holds the burger flipper.” Reece shot Jake an assessing look, but Jake just shrugged in response. Nothing to see here. Nobody fantasizing about your sister. Nope.

  Hollywood shook his head. “Man, the both of you are grumpy as hell. You both need to get laid.”

  Jake pressed the spatula into Hollywood’s burger until there was an audible hiss as fat dripped into the flames.

  He put his hands up. “Fine. Don’t get laid. What do I care?”

  Since when had Jake turned into a grumpy old man who argued against having sex? When it came to a certain blonde temptation, he’d keep it in his pants. That was for damn sure. He’d survived this past weekend, so the rest should be cake. Erin would be out of town in a few short weeks, and if Jake played his cards right, he’d do a good job avoiding her until her taillights disappeared in the distance on I-5.

  “Did you see they had a sale on St. Croix rods going on? Maybe you could get Bailey into fishing when she gets back from that fancy computer camp,” Reece said.

  “Dude,” Hollywood chimed in, “no novice needs that expensive of a rod. That’s like”—he made a show of counting on his fingers—“fifty Chipotle burritos gone to waste.”

  “Not for Bailey, you idiot.” Reece shook his head. “Jake can give her his old rod and get a new one. Then let me borrow it when he’s not using it.” He grinned. Reece was such a cheap ass.

  “And you wonder why chicks don’t like your apartment. Cheap as hell,” said Scotty, taking a pull from his beer.

  “I’m economical. And how did this turn into picking apart my place?”

  Good. Keep the focus on Reece. Maybe Jake wouldn’t be struck down by the guilt that had plagued him ever since he had returned to Portland. What made it worse was that everything reminded him of Erin. The clear sky was the same color as the dress she’d worn on the drive home. Hell, the beer he’d been sipping on reminded him of Erin’s lips. How she’d wrapped them around her own beer bottle. Beer, damn it. He couldn’t even drink in peace without a reminder of her.

  He scooped the burgers off the grill and placed them on a plate.

  No problem here. His daughter was leaving in the morning. He’d spend the next few weeks keeping himself too busy to think about Erin. He’d managed twelve years without any attachments. What was a handful of days?

  “By the way,” Reece said, “my mom insisted all of you come to Erin’s welcome-home party. She’s hell-bent on trying to keep her in town. It’s tomorrow—think you guys can make it?”

  Shit.

  Chapter Ten

  “Wow. I don’t know what to say.” Erin stared at the new comforter in the freshly painted room of her mom’s house. Her old room, she reminded herself. When she’d left for the weekend, it’d been an early-2000s time-capsule oasis, complete with Beyoncé posters, old movie stubs, and concert tickets pinned to the wall. Now? It was painted over with a shade of pale lavender that matched the ruffled edges of the equally prim-and-proper bedspread. It was all wrong.

  “What happened to all my stuff?”

  Her mother, at least, had the sense to look a little sheepish. “I put it in boxes,” she said.

  Why did this bother her so much? This should be a slam dunk. Now it was portable. She could ship it back to California and keep it in her own place. But just the thought of her mom riffling through all her memories struck something deep within her, rankled her like a cat being rubbed from tail to head with a wet hand.

  “I just want you to be comfortable while you’re home. Something more mature. You know, in case you decide to stay longer.”

  All she needed was a bed and four walls, she supposed.

  Nope. Still didn’t curb the unease stirring in her gut.

  An ache started in her jaw, and she rubbed at it, willing the muscles to relax. Ever since she had moved out of the house at eighteen, she’d developed this twitch in her jaw anytime her stress level went into the red. Usually that included occasions such as the first day of school and especially bad Tinder dates. Right now her muscle was hammering out a drum solo to a death-metal song.

  You love her. She loves you.

  That was the problem. The Jenkins family had a lot of love. And it was spread around as thick as their famous peanut butter. Her dad had been out of the picture for most of her life. He’d divorced her mom when Erin was really young, right after Andie had been born. Their mom had been invested in their personal lives ever since. The kind of devotion and passion saved for fantasy-football leagues and which Hollywood Chris was the swooniest (Chris Evans, because, c’mon, Captain America).

  “Mom—” This weekend had completely drained her, leaving her with zero fight. Jake’s face as he’d dropped her off, that distant, far-off look, had been enough to darken the edges of what had been a fantastic weekend.

  “Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ve gotten everything taken care of.” She pulled out a list from her purse. “I even printed off a list of jobs around here. The ones highlighted in pink are within a three-mile radius of the house.” She pointed farther down the list. “And the ones in yellow are within ten miles, but I think that’s acceptable since you’ve been so far away for the last decade.”

  Had she also put prison bars on Erin’s window? Or would the installation be happening next week? “Gee, Mom. I don’t know what to say.”

  Her mother gave her a quick pat on the leg. “Just looking out for my baby girl.”

  Erin pasted on a smile. Her mom meant well. She really did, which was why Erin didn’t have the heart to feel anything more than slight annoyance. But she had to know the chances of her moving home and being subjected to this all the time were about as good as seeing snow on the Fourth of July.

  She wrapped an arm around her mom. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you, remember?”

  Her mother waved a hand. “The doctor said I’m fine. I just can’t lift heavy things. Plus, what else am I supposed to do all day around the house?” She pointed to the list in Erin’s hand. “Just think on it, sweetie. One of those might be your forever job.”

  Erin jiggled the pages. “Sure thing.”

  As soon as her mom left her room, Erin sat down on the bed and blew out a sigh. She thumbed through the papers and frowned. There were quite a few opportunities here in town, much more than the sucktastic hiring freeze going on in California.

  She shucked the list to the side and pulled out her laptop. When in doubt, overuse the good old clicker finger by hitting the “Refresh” button on her go-to job sites. A few clicks later, she was in her bookmarked Education Opportunities tab. A whopping one new job posting in the past seven days. She scanned through it. A middle-school position for social studies. Not even in her realm of qualifications. She always preferred beakers and meter sticks to dead kings. Desperate times called for one more click of the “Refresh” button. Nope. Still nothing.

  Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling her out of her job-despair spiral.

  Her old roommate, Alexis. They’d taught together at Stephens Middle School. She was the seventh-grade math teacher, and they had lived together for th
e past couple of years.

  ALEXIS: Miss my beach buddy.

  With the text came a selfie of Alexis, lying on a beach blanket.

  Erin frowned. This summer they’d had plans to lounge on the beach down in Southern California, drink way too much iced coffee, and buy planner stickers at Michael’s. Okay, the last two were happening regardless of her current situation, because what was life without caffeine and structure?

  ERIN: Miss you, too.

  ALEXIS: Anything new? When are you coming home? Your boxes are looking awfully lonely.

  She stared at the text, debating whether to tell Alexis about her weekend with Jake. Erin hadn’t even mentioned him to Alexis. And telling her that she’d gone on a whirlwind wedding weekend that involved finger banging in the ice room at the reception? Yeah, that was a lot to explain over a text. Sloane and Madison would understand, though.

  ERIN: Hopefully home soon.

  Her mom popped her head back in the room. “Party starts in a few. Come on down when you’re ready.”

  She blew her bangs out of her face as sweat slicked her body. She’d positioned herself in front of the oscillating fan set in the doorway of her room. With every rotation, it ruffled the frilly edges of the comforter. Even after twenty years of living in the same bungalow, her mom still hadn’t splurged for central air-conditioning. She had one measly window unit in the living room. Erin had been spoiled these past few years, her apartment cranked to a chilly sixty-eight. Right now, she was fifteen degrees past comfortable.

  Thirty minutes from now, people would be arriving for her welcome-home party. The last party she’d been to was her goodbye party at her middle school. Every bite of that WE’LL MISS YOU, ERIN Costco cake burned like hydrochloric acid on the way down. She hated these types of parties. They brought way too much attention, when all she really wanted to do was slip out unnoticed.

  Her brother appeared in her doorway, carrying a bright pink box. “Well, look who it is! How long will it take Erin to skip town?” Her brother gave her a wry smile.