On Fire - Deelylah Mullin Read online

  “Give your momma a hug and a kiss so Mr. Reed can take her home quick,” her dad directed Elliott. “You know you won’t go back to sleep until she’s back here.”

  “That’s right, PopPop. Because I know she’s coming back tonight. Sometimes I go right to sleep at your house when I stay there, though.”

  “That’s right. You do. But you know your momma isn’t going to come for you on those nights. You always wait up for her when she’s coming back,” her dad said.

  Harper rarely left Elliott with her dad overnight—not because she didn’t trust the patriarch of her family, but because she didn’t trust herself to sleep without Elliott nearby. She relied on him more than he did her, she often thought. Her dad came up with a ridiculous agreement between the two of them that he was going to keep Elliott overnight once a month whether she liked it or not. And, she definitely didn’t like it.

  “Let’s get going so we can get back,” Reed said, looking at her intently for a moment. He patted the mattress next to Elliott’s knee and the boy smiled broadly.

  “Mr. Reed, you better drive carefully,” Elliott said.

  Reed placed his palm on Elliott’s shin and jiggled the boy’s leg. “I always do, son. And I’ll be even more careful since your mom will be with me.” He winked at her boy.

  Harper stood, reluctantly pulling her hand away from Elliott. He looked so small and helpless in the hospital bed.

  Her dad nudged her aside. “I got this. You get on home so you can get back here. I wanna sleep in my own bed tonight.” He bumped his arm against hers before spreading his arms wide and pulling her in for another hug. He tucked her under his chin and she reveled in the warmth and stability she felt. “Glad you’re okay, baby girl. Now, get a move on and don’t forget to bring yourself a blanket.” James released her and settled himself on the edge of Elliott’s bed. “And don’t worry—Doodlebug won’t be lonely tonight.”

  Elliott rolled his eyes. “PopPop, Doodlebug will be lonely.” He sighed dramatically. “I suppose you could bring him, Momma. We wouldn’t want him to be scared, or anything.”

  Harper’s eyes darted to Reed, who barely contained laughter. Yeah. He’s a cool guy. “I’ll tuck Doodlebug in the bag I pack. That way, he won’t be alone and you can pull him out if you need him.”

  “Fine, but I won’t need him.” Her little man crossed his arms across his chest and scowled—but it was all part of his ruse.

  “I know you won’t, but just in case, he’ll be here.”

  Elliott nodded.

  Scooting Elliott over and reclining in the bed, James said, “So, what’s good on TV?”

  Just like that, she was dismissed. She knew her dad had tried to distract Elliott so she could make her escape as guilt-free as possible, but it still tore at her gut. She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder before walking purposefully into the hallway. She leaned against the wall, eyes closed, and took several deep breaths.

  Heat wrapped around her, but nothing touched her. Opening her eyes, she looked deeply into Reed’s emerald orbs. The air between them vibrated, as though they played the I’m not touching you game.

  “He’ll be fine. We’ll be back before you know it.”

  She glanced away before she could lean forward and suck Reed’s supple bottom lip between her teeth and bite it. Instead, she worried her own lip and glanced away. “Yeah, I know he’ll be fine. I need a shower and I’ll feel better.” She ducked under Reed’s arm and started to walk down the hallway toward the elevators, needing just a few seconds to get her traitorous hormones under control. My son is spending the night in the hospital and I’m thinking about kissing a hot fireman. What kind of mother does that make me? She stood in front of the doors, shifting from one foot to the other as the anxiety balling in the pit of her stomach reached out its tentacles and clenched her lungs.

  A wide palm warmed the skin between her shoulder blades, and Reed punched the DOWN button. “I swear, this damn thing takes forever.”

  He leaned toward her and Harper scented his body wash or shampoo—maybe his laundry soap, too. When his exhaled breath danced over the sensitive skin of her neck, just below her ear, she shivered. His thumb began to draw small circles on her back, and she exhaled, melting just a little under his touch.

  “Oh, not yet. The nurses are behind us, and I’m sure they’re watching. Show no weakness.” He slid his palm to her shoulder and squeezed. “You’ve got this.”

  The soft chime of the elevator car sounded and the doors drew open. A few hospital staff, clad in scrubs, burst from the transport, leaving it empty as they stepped inside.

  As the opening narrowed, a woman behind the nurse’s station caught her gaze. Dr. Lana…and she was glaring. What the hell?

  As the lift descended to the ground floor, the weight of Reed’s gaze was heavy. It sat in the middle of her chest like an anvil from a Saturday morning cartoon. She glanced at him and then riveted her eyes to the floor.

  “So, I couldn’t help but notice that Dr. Lana seemed awfully interested. You and….”

  “There’s nothing between us. Never has been, and never will be. She keeps trying to get me to go out with her, but she’s not my type.” Reed’s voice was barely more than a whisper even though he stood close enough to brush against her in the empty elevator.

  With an uneasy turning in her stomach, Harper heaved a sigh of relief when the doors parted and beams of evening sun streamed through the wall of windows near the reception desk where a gray-haired woman sat.

  “Emily—this is Harper Phillips. Her son was just admitted on peds after a car accident earlier today. I’m running her home for a shower and she’ll be back in a bit,” Reed said, familiar with the woman.

  “Sorry to meet you under these circumstances, Ms. Phillips.” Emily extended her hand. “I’ll watch for your return. I’ll be here for a couple more hours.”

  Harper took the woman’s hand, gently squeezing, and smiled. “I should be back by then, easily. My dad is upstairs with my son right now.”

  Releasing Harper’s hand, Emily sat back in her chair and regarded Harper. “Your boy is in great hands. You take your time getting back here. Make sure you take care of yourself, honey.”

  Harper recognized Emily’s soft smile as the same one her mother had worn, even though the image had faded in her memory. Cancer had taken her when Harper was a teen. “I thank you for your advice. I’ll see you soon.” She turned toward Reed. “Let’s go. I need to get back so my dad can go.”

  Reed waved at Emily before making a sweeping gesture. “Your chariot awaits, milady.”

  As they stepped into the warm September air, Harper blinked at the brightness of the sun and wished she could peel away the dampness assaulting her from every angle. “I think I forgot how sticky it is outside, after being in the hospital most of the day.”

  Reed strolled next to her, guiding her toward the Tower Garage. “It’s that time of year—just before the break in the weather hits.”

  They traversed the remaining distance to the ramp in silence. After they entered the cool shadow of the concrete structure, Harper asked, “Where did you park? Do we need to go up?”

  Reed shook his head. “Nah. Managed to score something on the first level.” He waved to his right. “We’re about halfway up that aisle.”

  “Thanks again for coming to check on us. I really appreciate it.”

  “It’s really no problem. I should’ve made sure you had someone to call.”

  “I reached my dad. It’s all good. He doesn’t travel a lot, and is normally around.” She bumped her shoulder into his. Shit. Will he think that was an accident? That I’m dizzy or something? Dammit. This flirting thing is harder than I though it would be. Wait. Flirting? When my son is in the hospital? I definitely deserve the Mother of the Year award.

  After tugging a fob from his pocket—the jeans he wore fit every curve of his ass and thighs—he hit the button and lights flashed on a dark red, extended cab pickup truck
. Couldn’t have been more than a year or two old.

  “Here we are.” He rushed to the passenger side door and opened it. “At your service.”

  Harper felt heat creeping up her neck; she knew the splotchy redness would give her away, so she hurriedly climbed into the truck and fastened her seatbelt. “Thank you,” she said as she grasped the inside handle and pulled the door shut.

  A moment later, Reed sat in the driver’s seat and put the key in the ignition. The truck roared to life—or maybe that was the blood rushing inside her head.

  “So, where’re we headed?” he asked as he went up in the structure to come down and exit.

  Harper gave him her address—he knew the neighborhood—and looked at her surroundings for the first time in a long time.

  Normally, she was driving—rarely did she go anywhere with her dad. They usually met somewhere or he would ride in her car. My poor car….

  She startled. “I’ll need to get the car seat out of my dad’s truck until I can get a new one.” She glanced at Reed.

  “Yup. If you need help getting one, your car insurance should pay for it. If not, contact the police—they do a lot of community outreach regarding car seat safety.”

  “Those are great ideas, but I’m just going to get online and order one. I don’t think I’ll feel much like shopping for the next few days.” She refocused on the bright green lawns surrounding the homes in the subdivision in front of hers. “It’s easier if you turn left just up there.” She pointed toward a street sign.

  “Sure thing. It’s pretty nice back here. Are there a lot of kids Elliott’s age around?”

  Harper shook her head. “No, there isn’t. Wait. That isn’t entirely true. I don’t know whether there is, or not.”

  “Doesn’t Elliott take the bus to school? There’s gotta be bus stops around these parts.”

  “He does ride the bus, but he’s the only one at his stop.”

  Reed glanced at her before refocusing on the road ahead. “He doesn’t mention talking to kids on the bus or at school?”

  Harper shook her head again. “No. He’s just gotten used to the whole idea of going to school. It might be too overwhelming to add in making friends.” She turned and looked at him. “I’m doing something wrong, aren’t I.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it. Kids these days are often much more observant and more introverted than the average American.”

  “You need to make a left just up there.” She waved her hand in the general direction of the street sign. “I do worry about everything having to do with Elliott. Probably almost to the point of obsession.”

  “Being a good parent—especially a single parent—is the hardest job we’ll ever do. Like I told your dad, I don’t have kids yet, but I want some. Just haven’t found the right lady.” His gaze darted to her as the tip of his tongue snaked out and swept over his bottom lip.

  “Up there on the right. With the big pots on the porch.” Those will need watering before I head back to the hospital.

  Reed glanced at her as he pulled into the driveway. He shifted into park and killed the engine. “So. I’m just going to wait here. I wouldn’t want the neighbors to talk or anything.”

  Neighbors? Screw that. I know I should be worried about a veritable stranger in my house while I’m showering, but I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more than Reed joining me. “You’re not sitting in the driveway. That’d be rude of me, and I’m not rude.” She fumbled for the buckle of the seatbelt, and finally found it, releasing herself from the webbing. Then, her fingers slid along the door in the direction she thought she’d find the handle. Bingo. Humid air smacked her in the face as the cool air from the truck’s cab escaped. Swallowed up by the humidity monster, she rested there for a minute as she fumbled inside her purse for her keys. They weren’t where she normally tucked them, but she was glad she didn’t have to use the spare she’d hidden on the back patio.

  Victorious, she reached over her head with her prize, making the keys and store tags attached to the ring rustle against one another.

  The rich timbre of Reed’s laughter reached her ears. Immediately, her body took over rational thought as her panties became soaked. Whoa, girl. Rein it in there. After a deep breath or two, she said, “What’s so funny? I didn’t know whether I actually had a house key in here. This is a major victory for me.” She started walking toward the house and heard Reeds soft footfalls on the concrete behind her.

  When they reached the porch, Reed took the keys from her. “Is there an alarm you’ll need to disarm?”

  Harper nodded.

  “I’ll get the locks, you get the alarm. Deal?”

  His dimples—especially the one on his right cheek—made the bones in her legs disappear. She nearly collapsed when she realized she was clutching his arm. With a deep breath and a profuse apology, Harper pulled herself together enough to punch in the code right the first time. Thank god.

  Once inside, Harper pointed out things of interest—the kitchen, bathroom, and wide-screen TV. “I’m just going to get in the shower. I can’t think of anything that would feel better at this exact moment.”

  Flames flashed briefly in his green eyes before he tamped down whatever was going on in his brain.

  Was it the same thing going on in her brain? Because, her shower was large enough to accommodate at least two adults—even if one had a broad chest and muscles that wouldn’t quit.

  Reed cleared his throat. “I’m going to make you a snack. Any preferences?”

  “Not really. And, you don’t have to do that.”

  He laughed. “I actually enjoy cooking and don’t get to do enough of it. Not much sense in cooking for a bachelor.”

  “Can you think of anything else you’ll need? I shouldn’t be long at all.”

  That hunger flashed in his eyes again. He slowly inhaled and then released the breath. “Nothing right now. Thanks, though.” After a slow blink and a shake of his head, he started moving through her kitchen, opening cabinets and seemed to take inventory of the contents.

  “Um. Thanks for being here and bringing me home and everything. I’m really nervous about driving again, and I think I’d really appreciate it if you took me back to the hospital. My dad can come get us when Elliott is discharged.”

  Reed turned and looked at her. He waved the omelet pan in the air as he spoke. “It’s really not a big deal. I didn’t have anything going on tonight, anyway. And I’m always up for making new friends. This janked-up schedule isn’t the best for building and maintaining relationships outside the department and the people on my shift.” He glanced at the pan and back at her. “You like omelets, right?”

  She nodded enthusiastically as her stomach rumbled. A sheepish grin split her face as she shrugged. “Guess it’s time to eat.”

  “Shower and I’ll have everything ready by the time you’re done.” He tipped his head toward the hallway.

  “Okay. Seriously, feel free to use anything,” she said before she turned and strode down the hallway to her bedroom and en suite.

  Once inside her sanctuary, she closed the door and leaned against it. She sighed, happy she’d made it this far without falling apart over the accident or without being clearly outed for her little crush on Reed. It’s probably hero worship or something like that.

  Convinced it was nothing—even though the fireman tugged at her heartstrings like no one had since Kane—Harper quickly readied things for her shower.

  Elliott had been right—there was glass in her hair. She stood under the pounding spray, allowing the water to massage her scalp and other muscles which were making their presence known after the accident, and sending the tiny cubes of glass down the drain. As the liquid sluiced down her body, every ounce of brave face washed down the drain, too—like the glass from her hair. It started with a few tears and grew into chest-heaving, all-out sobs wracking her frame.

  She heard the knock on the bathroom door and pulled it together again, but the fine thread of her control
could be easily plucked.

  There was another knock, louder this time. “Harper? You okay in there?” Reed’s voice was muffled through the door.

  She sighed. “I’m fine. Thank you for checking.” Resting her head against the back of the enclosure, she let the pulsating stream target muscles in her back.

  More knocking. “You know, you don’t have to be all stoic. You’re allowed to fall apart after the accident and the trauma your son received—as well as the fact that he’ll be in the hospital tonight. There’s room for all kinds of feelings there.”

  “I know. I just— I just thought it would be easier if I had my little melt-down on my own, like I have been for roughly the past five years.” Harper turned off the water and stepped from the shower onto the bathmat. She wrapped her hair in a towel and quickly dried her trunk and limbs before pulling on her plush, gray bathrobe. Crossing to the door, she opened it, half-hoping Reed would be leaning against the door and would scoop her into his arms, promising never to leave her. As. If.

  She was half right—he leaned against the jamb and jumped when she swung the door open. “I, um… I was just going to get dressed. I have my clothes on the bed.” She leaned to look around him, desperately needing to focus on the bright leggings with circles of color Elliott said reminded him of Doodlebug. She needed to focus on her son—and getting back to the hospital to relieve her father.

  “I thought I heard you crying. It’s really okay. No one is going to fault you for having a good cry after the events of today.” He looked sheepish. “I kinda already said that through the door, didn’t I.”

  Harper nodded. “It’s fine, though. I needed to hear it again.” She managed to dance past him and stood at the side of the king-sized bed, which had a decorative wrought iron headboard and footboard. The black metal was twisted and turned into elaborate shapes—Harper had fallen in love with the set just before Elliott was born, and when she came home from the hospital, the new bed greeted her.