Burning Up (Flirting With Fire Book 1) Read online

  He sighed. “That was a great car.” Women tended to prefer the back seat in his more rebellious days. But when Bailey had come along, he’d needed something more practical, so he’d grown a pair and sold it for a truck. He didn’t often let himself think back to those days. What was the point when he had so much to focus on now?

  Erin shuffled from side to side, gripping her coffee cup between her hands. “I should get going. You sure there isn’t anything else I can do to make up for the earlier mishap? I’d take a few more bites of this, but I won’t give you the pleasure of seeing me choke on my own guilt.” Her eyes glittered with amusement.

  The tongue on this woman. Yeah, he pushed any further thoughts about that portion of her body out of his mind before he needed to punch himself in the face. He’d grown up with her. Played laser tag in their backyard on long summer nights. This was obviously his body reacting to sleep deprivation. “Always a pleasure, Erin.”

  Before he thought better of it, he scooped her into a hug. Yup, that was a key mistake. He inhaled the tantalizing scent of coconut as her hair brushed the bottom of his chin. He definitely wasn’t paying attention to the way her breasts brushed against his chest. Five seconds into the hug and he was contemplating making up a reason to stop by the Jenkins house sometime next week.

  And then it clicked.

  He did need her to do something. She’d be the perfect candidate to take to Josie’s wedding. It was a lot to ask. But his family already knew her—she was friends with Hazel, another bonus. Her family wouldn’t even think twice about Jake bringing her as a date because the Jenkins family had been a big part of his and Hazel’s life years ago.

  A safe choice. And it beat the hell out of Melissa from down the street with the cat-hoarding problem.

  “Actually, there is something that you can do.”

  Chapter Four

  “Slow down there, Speed Racer.”

  Erin shot her sister a look and continued wearing a path into the dingy beige carpet of the attic she’d converted into her personal woman cave in high school.

  Her breath came out in shallow huffs as she continued to the closet. She shoved hanger after hanger to the side, not happy with any of the selections. Seriously, when did she have such poor taste in clothes? Her hammering pulse beat wildly in her temples. In fact, her heart hadn’t stopped the damn palpitations since the moment she’d laid eyes on Jake. Pathetic? Yes. Bad for her health? Possibly. Those two crappy yogurts that were part of her stay-somewhat-healthy-while-in-carb-mecca plan weren’t even worth choking down if she went into cardiac arrest. In fact, she could totally use another bagel.

  No. No time for food. She was a woman on a mission. One that involved her not looking like a complete slob at Josie’s wedding.

  She may have had no chance in hell with her high school crush, but at the very least, she should have a killer outfit for the wedding.

  Andie sidled up next to her as she continued to stare into the closet.

  Cute dresses appropriate for a wedding: zero.

  She may as well call Jake right now and tell him that she was sick. Came down with a bad case of I-officially-have-a-lame-wardrobe-itus.

  Andie tapped a finger to Erin’s forehead, jostling her out of her thoughts like she’d pulled a rip cord. “Earth to Erin. Anyone home?”

  “What am I going to do? I don’t have time to go shopping before tomorrow.”

  Andie cocked her head, the disbelief written clearly on her face. “You don’t have anything? Not even a hoochie club dress?”

  “Do I look like I’d own a hoochie-mama dress?”

  Her sister gave her a once-over. “Good point. Haven’t you been to any other weddings?”

  She shrugged. All of her teaching friends had either already gotten married before she’d met them or were still unmarried, like she was.

  Yep. She was as surprised as her sister. How had she made it through her late twenties without owning a proper cocktail dress? Now, shoes on the other hand, she had that on lockdown. It was her personal vice.

  Erin motioned toward the closet. “Take a look for yourself.”

  Her sister dug through the closet, grunting and giving a few Oh my Gods when she ventured deeper. She came out seconds later holding up seven sweaters, all the same style, just different colors. “Dude. How many cardigans does a teacher need?”

  She shrugged. “They were on sale.”

  “You could have worn this today, and then you wouldn’t have to worry about the wedding.”

  Erin stuck out her tongue and grabbed the hangers from her sister, cradling the clothes to her chest. “Hey, don’t diss my cardigans. They have feelings, you know.” Wow. She’d really hit a new low if she was defending the merit of a sweater.

  Clothes. She needed formalwear that she didn’t own. For a wedding she hadn’t even known about until yesterday. This was crazy talk.

  “Plus, we’re going as friends.”

  Andie let out a dry laugh, which was muffled because she was back in the depths of Erin’s closet. “Sure you are.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You were all heart-eye emojis when you walked in the door. I don’t blame you. He’s hot.”

  “And way too old for you.”

  Her nineteen-year-old sister didn’t need to be noticing men more than a decade her senior.

  “Not like you know what my type is, anyway. Maybe I’m into older men.” She reemerged from the closet, no miraculously awesome outfit in hand.

  Erin let that comment slide. Her relationship with her sister had more twists and turns than Space Mountain. One day they’d be laughing their butts off over Skype, and the next, Andie was screening her calls. Erin would like to say it was teenage hormone crap, but she had a feeling that there might be more to it.

  “If that’s the case, good luck bringing one home living under Mom’s roof,” Erin said. Their mom was suffocating on the best of days. The boa constrictor of love. “Have you thought any more about college?”

  “I don’t think you checked in the back here. Maybe there’s a dress tucked away.” Andie disappeared into the back of the walk-in closet, completely ignoring Erin’s question.

  Okay. Guess she didn’t want to have the college talk. Fair enough. It had devastated her mom when Andie had turned down a full ride to Portland State University on a track scholarship. Erin knew all about avoidance, though. She’d been doing it for the past decade. And had been successful so far.

  “You could always go in a paper bag. It might be an improvement on some of these outfits.”

  Erin sighed. “You’re a lot of help.”

  “Like you said. You’re going as friends, so does it really matter what you wear?”

  “Yes.” The answer came out so suddenly that Erin wasn’t sure if she was the one who’d said it.

  An entire weekend spent with the Bennett family. For a wedding. Sure, she’d known the family well when she was a teenager, but this was Josie’s special weekend, and she didn’t want to impose. Then again, the palpable relief on Jake’s face when she’d agreed . . . Well, she wasn’t thinking about the bride’s opinion at all. Hell, with those eyes on her, she’d be hard-pressed to say no to any request.

  Down, girl.

  He’d asked her as a friend—nothing more. Plus, she didn’t even want to entertain thoughts of Jake in any capacity, not when she’d be back in California in a few short weeks. There was nothing to worry about here. Except for looking like she was living in a van under a bridge when they traveled to one of the fanciest resorts in central Oregon. In front of a guy who’d played front and center in High School Erin’s fantasies.

  Erin peeked into the closet and eyed her sister. She wasn’t the same size as Andie, or else she’d bum clothes off her. And with her shift at her family’s food truck starting in forty minutes, that left her zero time to head to the mall . . . unless . . .

  She stared at her sister, who was still riffling through the closet. “I need a favo
r.” She’d already managed to get her to cover tomorrow’s shift, so this was asking a lot.

  Andie gave up on digging through Erin’s closet and plopped down onto the bed, squishing a few of her cardigans in the process. “The answer is no.”

  Erin tossed a shirt into the open suitcase. “You don’t even know what I was going to ask you.”

  “I don’t have to. You only ask for things that completely suck.”

  Damn it, she was right. But there wasn’t anyone else to run the food truck if she bailed tonight. One of the college students who worked part-time for her mom had called yesterday and said he’d be back in town Saturday morning, which meant he could take over. Their mother was almost back to normal, just not able to lift anything for the next few weeks. And as much as she wanted to go to a wedding, she’d call Jake and tell him she couldn’t make it if it meant saving herself the embarrassment of showing up in her chalk-marred wardrobe. Even her best peep-toe stilettos couldn’t hide the glitter crusted into her dress slacks. Ah, the glamorous life of a teacher.

  “Are you free tonight?” Erin asked.

  Andie managed to look bored. A lioness toying with its prey. “Depends.” Erin hated these games because her sister was a much better negotiator. She’d suggest Andie enroll and major in law, but she didn’t want to piss her off, especially when she needed a favor.

  Familial bond only went so far. Then came bribery. “On?”

  Her sister pushed at her cuticle. “Can I borrow your Jimmy Choos on my date next weekend?”

  Erin would not whimper. Nope. Wouldn’t happen. Not like she’d poured half of her first paycheck from teaching into buying those babies—they had sentimental value at this point. Just one of many milestones she’d achieved in her career. Her lips wobbled at the thought of not seeing her students next year, how she felt like she had so much more to give to that school.

  “If you promise not to scuff them.”

  The shoes in question sat tucked away in their original box in the back of her closet. She wore them on days her supervisor assessed her classes. During state testing week. Hell, she wore them whenever she needed that extra lift to feel strong. Badass. Invincible. Like Saturday night when she’d surely need the ego boost because first dates were not her forte. Not that this was a date. Just two people going to a wedding.

  Hopefully the bar would be well stocked.

  Jake smoothed a hand across the back of his neck. Shit. It’d been a while since he’d taken someone out. Years. Now he’d be spending an entire weekend with Erin. Hell, he didn’t even know her anymore—it was practically like taking a stranger to the wedding. The idea seemed a lot better in the heat of the moment, when they were joking around like the good old days. But now, with an overnight bag stowed in the back of his truck and time to think about all the ways this situation could go sour, he wasn’t so sure.

  Chances were slim that he’d really screw it up too much since Josie had packed the itinerary so full that there were designated bathroom breaks listed. Even with the overscheduled weekend as a buffer, that didn’t stop the sweat from slicking his palms.

  He cut the engine as soon as he pulled onto the street in front of Erin’s house. There were two cars parked in the narrow driveway. One was the same minivan Mrs. Jenkins had used to pick Reece and Jake up from soccer practice.

  The air-conditioning unit in the first-story window hummed loudly as he shut the door to his truck and walked toward the porch. Ivy twisted around two pillars bracketing a cheery yellow-painted door.

  From the street, this home resembled many of the downtown bungalows—well loved, preserved through decades of city expansion, a house similar to what he’d grown up in. A few years ago, he’d decided to move to the suburbs on the outskirts of town, because after a long day, the last thing he wanted was to be caught in the middle of the hustle and bustle of downtown.

  Jake crossed the front porch and stood on the doormat. He peered down and chuckled as he scanned the cursive print that read HI, I’M MAT.

  Corny as hell, but it was similar to his mother’s humor, and heck, the woman who’d raised him drove him up the wall, but he still held a soft spot in his heart for her.

  Before he could lift a hand to the doorbell, the door swung open, and Erin’s mother stood with her arms spread, a smile on her face.

  “Jake Bennett. Come here and give me a hug.”

  He wrapped his arms around the woman who’d treated him like he was family growing up. She still smelled the same—lavender, with a touch of vanilla. It was a nice fragrance, one that was both motherly and comforting.

  She held him at arm’s length and blew out a whistle as she gave his arm a firm squeeze. “Christ, boy, what are they feeding you at that fire station? I could bounce a quarter off those biceps.”

  “Mom!” Erin groaned.

  “What?” She shot her daughter a look. “I’m menopausal, not blind.”

  Jake had the good sense to hide his amusement and instead politely smiled. He wasn’t going to get in the middle of this, especially when he was about to get a similar dose of his own mother’s comments when they arrived at Three Sisters Resort.

  A tinge of pink spreading across Erin’s cheeks was the only response to her mother’s question. Damn, she was adorable.

  Did Erin notice? Jake wondered. He worked out daily in order to keep fit for his job. But he’d long since stopped the peacocking he’d done in his early twenties. Something about Erin’s flustered expression sent a jolt straight to his cock.

  “To answer your questions, I’m the one that cooks during my shifts at the station. It saves me having to bust out the fire extinguisher.” Cole and Reece were great at a lot of things, but cooking wasn’t one of them.

  “A man who can cook”—she turned to her daughter—“Erin, this is the kind of man you need in your life.”

  Erin smoothed her thumb and her index finger along her brows and muttered, “Please ignore my mother. She’s still on pain meds from the surgery. I’ll be back on Sunday. Love you. Bye.” She gave her mother a hug and murmured something in her ear, soft enough so that Jake couldn’t hear from across the room.

  And with that, Erin rolled her suitcase out the door and gave a quick wave before wheeling down the walkway.

  “It was a pleasure seeing you, Mrs. Jenkins.”

  “You tell your mom that we need to get together to play bridge one of these nights.”

  “Will do.”

  She shut the door behind him, but not before giving him a little wink.

  Jake grabbed Erin’s suitcase, carried it down the driveway, and hoisted it into the bed of the pickup. For a two-night trip, her bag weighed enough that it might accrue overage fees on an airline.

  He rolled his shoulders back before opening the door. This was no big deal. Just one weekend out of his life. The festivities would blanket most of the awkwardness.

  As he slid into the truck, he was immediately hit with the fragrance of Erin’s coconut shampoo. His goddamn eyes nearly rolled back in their sockets as the intoxicating scent hit his nose.

  Friendly wedding date. Emphasis on friendly. It was a safe assumption that weddings ranked somewhere along the lines of running stair exercises in full gear, but this time he just might look forward to putting on his rental tux. Or maybe he was experiencing a contact high from all the coconut in the car.

  He glanced over to Erin’s side of the truck. Her face was still bright pink as she leaned into the headrest. “So sorry about that,” she muttered.

  “I spent my entire childhood at your house. Nothing your mom says will faze me.” In fact, he clearly remembered her giving the sex talk one night after she’d had one too many glasses of wine. She’d told them that in order to stay safe, they had to double-wrap it. With that logic she had bestowed on them, it was a wonder there weren’t more Jenkins siblings.

  “Really? Because the older I get, the more I wonder if that is my future.”

  “Unless you start pinching guys on the ass,
I think you’re good.”

  Her hands shot up to cover her mouth. “Oh my God, did she do that to you?”

  “Not today.”

  She groaned. “Glad I got you out of there before she had the chance, then.”

  He turned the key in the ignition and glanced over at her. Jean shorts, a tiny black tank top, and dark red lips. His personalized version of temptation. He gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Ready to hit the road?”

  The gravity of that statement hit him harder than a battering ram. He’d be spending the weekend with Reece’s sister. He’d run it by him the other day after he’d asked Erin, and Reece had texted back: That’s fine. Just as friends, right?

  “As soon as we find a good station.” She went to reach for the presets for the radio.

  He intercepted her hand before she could hit the buttons. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on there, Heron.”

  “Oh, so we’re back to name-calling?”

  Yes. Because it was a reminder of who she was. Who she’d always be in his eyes.

  Jake would first and foremost never cross his friend, but there was also the fact that he had his daughter, Bailey, to think about. And that he didn’t even know Erin anymore. She was doing him a solid by filling in to appease his mom this weekend, but that was it. End of story.

  “If you’re going to mess with a man’s stations, then yes, Heron. The name is making a comeback.”

  “That is the most ridiculous load of crap I’ve ever heard. Everyone knows it’s the copilot who picks the tunes.”

  He cut his gaze to her. “Tunes? Okay, Grandma.”

  “Holy crap. I am turning into my mother.”

  “If you start pinching my ass, I’m going to have to pull the car over.”

  She gave him a playful shove.

  “Okay, fine. Pick the music. Let’s hear what you’re going to subject me to for three hours.” He gestured to the radio with his chin.

  He put the truck into gear and turned off her street, toward the highway. Three hours. What the hell was he going to do with three hours? As long as he kept his eyes on the road, he should be fine.