Connelly's Flame (8 page)

good judge of character and I tend to forget that in my overbearing fathering to her.” He gestured to a photo

on the wall, “That is her father and I. We have been the best of friends forever. Dezarae is my godchild. So I

am naturally overprotective.”

Jeb looked at Dezarae and was immediately taken in again by her dark beauty. “I can understand

that.”

With a glance that told him much more than he wanted to know, Dale turned his attention from the

tall stranger that seemed infatuated with his goddaughter, to his goddaughter. “Got some messages for you,

Dez.” He sat forward and handed her a stack of papers.

“Oh, thanks, Dale.” She took them and immediately flipped through them. “Wow, can I use your

phone?”

“Of course. You know where it is.” He waved her away.

Without glancing at Jeb, she left the room, shutting the door on the two men.

“Now that she is gone, what in the hell are your intentions towards her?” Dale snapped, leaning

forward and pinning Jeb with a glare that should have scared him.

“My intentions? I didn’t know I had intentions toward her.”
I am such a liar. I just had my hand in

her pants this morning and my tongue in her mouth. God willing, I will be doing it again.

“Are you after her business?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not at all.”
Her heart, yes.

“I won’t let you hurt her.” The voice grew full of malice.

“I have no intentions of hurting her.”

“See that you keep those intentions.”

“I will.”
You had better believe I will keep my intentions.

“Good. Now get!” Dale jerked his head to the door.

“Yes, Sir.” Jeb rose and strode to the door leaving as silently as he had gone in.

He walked up the hall and found Shawn and Dezarae talking and laughing amongst themselves.

Their heads were bent in close to one another. They presented a total picture of compatibility. Jeb hated it.

Hated how they were so close together, how that man got her to smile like that. Hated everything it had the

potential to mean.

29

CONNELLY’S FLAME

Aliyah Burke

His anger grew at the thought of her married to that pussyboy she was next to. His firebird needed

someone strong who could release the passion she was trying to keep hidden from the rest of the world.

Dezarae Phoenix Kerry needed him.

Striding closer, he cleared his throat. If he had been them expecting to spring apart he was mistaken

for they barely noticed him, just continued to giggle together over a private joke.

Dezarae turned her head and smiled gently at the man who had cleared his throat. She could see the

anger in his posture. “Ready?” she asked as she patted Shawn on the arm.

Jeb stopped. “For what?”

“Well, I have to go to the store and pick up some things. I figured you would want to get some

different clothes.” Her sinful eyes stared straight at him. “Then we need to head back, I have to get to work

on some cars. The owner of the Martins is coming for the hardtop so I want to make sure it is spotless.”

“I’m staying with you?” he asked her.

A flash of embarrassment crossed her face. “I’m sorry; I just assumed you would be. There is a hotel

here in town; perhaps you would feel better there.”

“No! No. I would love to stay with you.”
In the same bed would be best.
“Let’s go, then.” His anger

had disappeared as fast as it came. She hadn’t forgotten about him after all.

“Okay.” Putting her attention on the man beside her, she leaned down, kissed his cheek, and

whispered something in his ear. He smiled and kissed her back before walking off. “Let’s go then, Johnny

Reb,” she said to the man she was taking home with her. “Bye, Sheriff!” Dezarae yelled as she headed for the

door.

“That was good,” Dezarae groaned as she put her fork down. “I ate too much.”

Jeb smiled at the woman who sat on the other side of the booth from him. After shopping she had

wanted to grab a bite to eat. “I don’t think you eat enough,” he told her.

“Oh, trust me, I need to cut back. I’m getting fat,” she said.

“If you say so, but I don’t see it.”

“That’s because it’s winter and I can get away with wearing big clothes.” She drained the rest of her

coffee. “It’s the coffee. I drink too much. That and I eat too much.” Dezarae laughed. “Who cares? Who the

hell do I have to impress?”

“I’m very impressed, Firebird. Very.” His tone flowed like a double malt liqueur over her skin.

“Well, thank you.” She winked at him before leaning back in the booth.

This man had gotten under her skin. While they shopped she had noticed other women from town

doing double-takes as they saw him, especially when he was trying on jeans. He had insisted that she go and

watch. It never mattered how beautiful the woman was who tried to get his attention. He had stayed focused

on her, making her feel like the only one for him.

Now, as they sat in the diner, he was once again the object of many stares. Yet again he stayed

focused on her. It was an amazing feeling. This man was special and she knew that somewhere someone had

to be missing him.

“Ready to go?” she asked, putting money down on the table to cover the bill.

“I hate that you have been paying for everything for me.”

“I believe the response is ‘yes’ or ‘no’ there,” she admonished.

“Yes, Ma’am, I’m ready to go.” He grabbed her hand and held it until she met his gaze. “And thank

you for taking such good care of me.”

“Hey, I just stopped and picked you up. You were lucky you weren’t seriously injured.”

“You are right about that. But I actually was talking about today. For all you got me: the clothes,

razors, everything.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll work it out of you.” Dezarae blurted before she could take into account

how her words may sound.

Those gray eyes deepened. “I truly hope you do.”

Her body a trembling mass of nerves, she slid out of the booth and was shocked again when he held

her coat for her. “Thank you,” she muttered.

“Most welcome.”

30

CONNELLY’S FLAME

Aliyah Burke

They left with many eyes watching them. It was odd behavior to see Dezarae acting so free with a

complete stranger.

31

CONNELLY’S FLAME

Aliyah Burke

“So when is he arriving here?” Jeb asked the body that looked like a pair of disembodied legs as it

stuck out from underneath the Aston Martin.

Bending her legs at the knees, Dezarae had no idea of the raw lust that was on the face of her guest.

“Tomorrow. He is flying a chopper in that is going to carry the car back in a box so it is protected from the

elements. He lives in Southern California.” She rolled herself out from under the car, grease streaks on her

face and looking so adorable.

Standing, she jerked her head towards the car. “Get in and start her up for me, will you? You don’t

have grease on you.”

Not having to be told twice, Jeb slid behind the wheel of the car and turned her over. The car purred

to life.

“Hit the lights for me,” she ordered. He did and she checked front and back. “Turning signals.” Same

thing. “Brakes and hazards.” He did. “Let it run for a minute, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Jeb stayed right there until she walked back over to the side of the car he sat in. “What now?” He

asked her.

Still wiping her hands on a rag, she said, “Shut the car off.” He did. “We are going down, hang on.”

She pushed a button and the floor began to drop.

In shock, he sat still in the car as they were lowered to what looked like an indoor racetrack. “What

the hell…”

Dezarae looked in at him. “Look at me. Can you really drive a stick?”

“Yes.” His hand gestured around the underground structure. “What is this place?”

“A place for us to make sure the cars run, without putting them on the asphalt and getting road grime

on them. Or, like this time of the year, when we can’t take them out. Daddy had this as long as I could

remember but I added some things of my own. Okay, Johnny Reb, this is your chance. Drive it around a few

times while I get cleaned up.” Her eyes grew serious. “Don’t do anything fancy.”

“Serious. I can drive it?” His eyes were wide.

“Sure, do a few laps. Go ahead.” Dezarae smiled as he turned on the car and carefully drove it off the

platform and onto the track.

She cleaned up as he drove around. Finally ready, she waved him in. “What did you think?”

“I think I’m in love,” he muttered.

“It is a nice car. Come on, I have to test it out. Make sure it runs right.” Dezarae said.

Reluctantly, Jeb got out of the car and watched as she slid her body behind the wheel and shut the

door. Turning towards him, she said, “Well, come on. Get in.”

Eagerly, he climbed back in the car, although this time he was on the passenger side. But still it was

good enough for him.

“Hang on, Johnny Reb,” she said as she tore off.

Four hours later, they were draping a cover over the spotless, detailed cobalt-blue vehicle. “Thanks

for your help,” Dezarae said as she made sure the alarms on the doors were primed before bundling up.

“You have one hell of a setup here. It’s amazing,” Jeb said in awe. “And you are welcome. Thanks

for letting me drive that car.”

“No prob. Just, if David asks, you didn’t.”

“David?” he asked as he slid on his thick coat.

“The man who owns the car.”

“I see.”
Jesus, don’t you deal with any women?

She opened the door and waited for him to leave before she set the alarm. The night was clear and as

they walked towards the house. Jeb walked behind her and stopped as a chill ran over his body. They were

being watched.

“What’s the matter?” Dezarae asked.

“Go inside,” he ordered in a tone that scared her.

32

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Aliyah Burke

Without saying a word, she headed in, noticing how he was close on her heels. Inside the door, she

found herself alone, he had disappeared. “What the hell?” she asked the solitude of her home. There had been

a deadness in his gaze that froze her blood.

Hanging up her jacket, she walked to the kitchen and began to prepare dinner. Her movements were

restless until she heard her door open again. Moments later, his large body filled the doorway to her kitchen.

“What was that all about?” Dezarae ran her eyes over him as she looked her fill of his muscular

body. It seemed that every time she looked at him he grew more handsome. He wore some of his new

clothes, a black turtleneck and a sinfully tight pair of blue jeans. With the five o’clock shadow that graced his

face, he looked good enough to eat.
I bet he would look good enough to eat if he wore a burlap sack.

Jeb sighed as his gunmetal gaze took in the woman who had come to mean the world to him in such

a short time. She wore a dark green shirt and one more pair of skintight black jeans; he wanted to forget

dinner, pick her up and take her to her room for a night neither one of them would forget.

It wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight. He didn’t like the feeling that coursed through his body as

they walked toward the house. Someone was out there, watching her. Watching
his
woman.

“You gonna answer me, Johnny Reb, or just stand there?” Dezarae’s voice reached him.

“Thought I’d just stand here and watch you in those tight jeans, what do you think about that?” he

teased, not wanting to tell her about his feeling, especially since he didn’t know how to explain how he felt

that.

“I think you should get over here and help make dinner. You can make the salad,” she tossed back,

turning away from his powerful gaze.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Sure strides took him up to the counter next to her where he ran his hand lovingly

over her firm ass. “If you’re sure.”

Her hands trembled as she chopped up vegetables for the soup. “Get to work.”

“You’re the boss.” He reached around her and grabbed the bowl before settling himself next to her at

the counter and beginning to wash the lettuce.

I’d like to be.
She didn’t answer him.

“I’m going to go outside for a bit just to walk around.” Jeb announced after dinner was over and they

were sitting in the living room reading.

“Okay,” Dezarae said, barely looking up from her book.

“Be back soon,” he said as his tall body slipped out of her sight and out the back door.

Seconds after she heard the door close, she shut her book. “What the hell is going on with him?” He

was acting strange and it scared her. It was as if after coming back from her shop someone had flipped a

switch, leaving her with a person who looked like the man she had picked up, but with an edge.

She jumped when her phone rang. Picking it up, she said, “Hello?”

“Hey, girl, how are you?” The deep voice reached her.

“Lateef,” she said as she cuddled up on the couch, grabbing her stuffed Corvette, holding it close to

her as she smiled. Lateef was a long-time friend and owner of the ’66 Toronado she had in her shop. “What’s

going on, man?”

“I missed you. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Lateef.” She closed her eyes as she pictured him. Tall like her guest and dipped in

dark chocolate. He was everything she could ever want in a man, or so she would have thought before she

met Jeb. Lateef was a man’s man and he knew how to treat a woman. But when her eyes closed at night it