Hidden Fire: Fire, Book 2: Red Hot Weekend

Dedication

My special thanks go to:

Lexxie Couper, because without your counsel, patience and handholding, I’d still be writing this book.

Lindsey Faber, for your excellent suggestions and sharp eyes.

Fedora. It’s not only me that thanks you for all your help. Jenna wouldn’t be where she is today without your guidance.

Chapter One

Blue Mountains, New South Wales, Australia

Jackson Brooks lifted his glass in the air and held it out in a toast. “Happy birthday, sis.”

Jenna clinked her glass with his, careful to keep the orange juice from sloshing over the side. “Happy birthday to you too.” She grinned at her twin. “You having a good one so far?”

Jackson looked at her, a half smile on his lips. “Never thought turning thirty would change my life. But it has.”

Jenna laughed. “A little melodramatic, don’t you think?” There was no one else she could tease as openly as her brother. No one else in the world she felt this comfortable with. Except maybe for her best friend, Rachel.

“Perhaps.” He shrugged. “It’s just made me think, is all. Made me assess what’s important.”

“Philosophy? This early in the morning?” The two were sharing a quiet, celebratory breakfast in the hotel dining room. “So tell me, Socrates, what conclusions have you come to? What is important in your life?”

Jackson met her gaze, his expression intense. “The usual I guess. Love. Life. Healing.”

Her breath caught. “Healing?”

“Healing enough to live life to the fullest,” Jackson elaborated. His gaze did not waver.

No, Jackson, please. Don’t bring this
up.
“And are you? Living life to the fullest, I mean?”

“Are you healing?” he asked.

She bit her lip. “Nice birthday conversation.”
Not.
“Mind if we change the subject?”

Jackson’s intensity did not falter. “Jenn, it’s important.”

She eyed him uneasily before averting her gaze to the open fire crackling in the hearth behind her brother. Flames flickered invitingly as the wood popped and hissed. Darn, she didn’t want to discuss this. Hated thinking about it. Jackson knew that. “I healed a long time ago.” Jackson wouldn’t buy into the lie for a second. “Took a while, but I got there eventually. You?”

Disbelief settled in his eyes. “I thought I had,” he told her softly. “I was wrong.”

“Jackson… Hello? Birthday celebration here.”
Do you have to ruin the mood?

Jackson grabbed her hand, squeezed it, and carried right on talking. “It stopped me living, Jenn. Stopped me loving. Set me on a course I never meant to head out on.”

She sighed.
Yep, apparently he does.
“And you’re only realizing this now?” Every decision Jenna had taken, every choice she’d made over the last twelve years—from the women she befriended, to the career she’d picked, the men she dated and even her behavior in bed—were all influenced by the trauma she and Jackson had experienced when they were seventeen. The trauma brought about by a girl hell-bent on revenge.

He shook his head. “No. I’ve known it a long time. We both have. But it’s only now I’m prepared to do something about it.”

“Are you talking about something specific?” Instinct told her he was, and it wasn’t like Jackson to skirt the issue.

He nodded.

She bit into a piece of melon and wished she could appreciate the juices spilling onto her tongue, but she couldn’t taste a thing. The topic choice had anesthetized her taste buds. “It sounds serious.”

Jackson gnawed on his lower lip. He hadn’t touched his eggs, which was not like her twin at all. Usually he shoveled food into his mouth while she looked on in amusement. What could bother him this much on a luxurious weekend away with friends?

“It’s about Rachel,” Jackson said.

“What about her?”

He tapped a finger on his knife, his agitation obvious, yet his face softened as he answered, his expression turning gentle, almost gooey. “I love her.”

Her jaw nearly hit the table. “Huh?”

“I’m in love with her. I have been for a very long time.” The truth of Jackson’s words shone in his face. He looked…dreamy eyed. “Last night I was finally forced to see the truth. I can’t live without her. I don’t want to live without her.”

Responding was almost impossible. Her mouth refused to function. “R-Rachel Ashberg?” she finally managed to stutter.

Jackson nodded. “She’s the one. The only one for me.”

“And you’re telling me this…”

“Because I can’t carry on lying to myself. I have to be with her. We want to be together. And I need your blessing, sis. We both do—Rach and I.”

Both of them? They’d discussed it? When?

She shook her head, shock and disbelief assailing her in equal measures.

Jackson grabbed her hand, held it tight. “I know we made a deal, Jenn. I know we said we’d never date each other’s friends again, and loving Rach goes against everything we vowed.” He stared at her, resolved yet desperate. For what? Her approval? “But I can’t live like this anymore. I’m leading a life I don’t want to lead. I’m single. I’m lonely. And since Rachel left Brisbane, I’ve missed her.” The melancholy note in his voice echoed across the table. “I…ache for her.” He looked at her, beseechingly. “She’s a part of me, but because of our pact I haven’t let her in—until now.”

Jenna blinked at him, wordlessly digesting his bombshell. Shrapnel tore through her belly. Rachel and Jackson! Her brother and her best friend.

She hadn’t seen that one coming. Wasn’t sure how to respond or what to say.

She didn’t want to withhold her approval—how could she possibly withhold anything that would make her brother happy?—but surprise had her speaking without thinking. “We made that pact for a reason. For this reason exactly. To stop us dating each other’s friends.”

“It did stop me. For twelve years.” Jackson shrugged helplessly. “I can’t anymore, sis. I wanna live, and for me that means being with Rachel.”

The last time Jackson had dated one of her friends, both Jenna’s and Jackson’s lives had been destroyed. Jenna had ended up in hospital for three months. With a diagnosis of severe clinical depression and starvation. She’d simply lost the will to eat. Or to live.

“All those accusations of you and me sleeping together,” Jenna whispered, lost in the horrible thoughts of their past.

“They were terrible,” Jackson agreed, right there with her. Regret and anger flashing through his eyes. “But Rachel never made them. Simone did. And she was a petty little bitch. A teenage girl, hell-bent on revenge because I wasn’t interested in her.”

Simone.
The very name made Jenna shudder. She’d been a friend of Jenna’s. A close friend. Jackson had dated her a couple of times, but not been interested in anything more. Simone had been so shocked by Jackson’s rejection, she’d set out to gain revenge. She’d told the entire school Jackson and Jenna were not just brother and sister, they were lovers too. The once happy Brooks twins had instantly been shunned, laughed at, isolated. They’d lost their friends, lost respect, lost their happiness. Jenna’s boyfriend had dropped her like a hot coal.

Jackson would have bounced back easily enough, if Jenna hadn’t been so hard hit by the fabrication and the ensuing gossip. As a kid she’d been ill-equipped to deal with the scorn of her entire school. “She ruined our lives.”

“She did. But you healed, Jenn.”

Not completely. She’d healed just enough to lead a functional, averagely happy life.

If she’d recovered fully, then she wouldn’t be having this conversation now. She wouldn’t be living this life. She wouldn’t be a dietician, obsessively aware of every piece of food she put into her mouth, obsessively needing to control everyone else’s eating patterns as well. She wouldn’t be dating the men she dated, or pretending she had almost no sexual needs. She’d never have needed the pact.

If she’d healed completely, she’d have done what Jackson was doing now: followed her heart and been with the man she really loved. Instead, she dated sweet guys with whom she had absolutely nothing in common. They demanded little—which was exactly how much Jenna was willing to give.

Her mind spun. Shock held her motionless. What was more astounding? The fact Jackson was in love with her BFF, or the fact that he was breaking their agreement? Did she even care about the pact anymore?

The questions overwhelmed her. Made her reel. Made the world whirl in crazy circles. Yet none of them took precedence in her mind.

Only one thought resonated through it.

Garreth Halt.

The man who was leaving Australia in two weeks—and never returning.

The man she’d given up, no matter how much she loved him. The man she’d rejected because of the agreement she and Jackson had made as emotionally overwrought teenagers.

She couldn’t be with Garreth because he was her brother’s housemate, good friend and work colleague. The men worked together as journalists on the same newspaper. Jenna had turned her back on the love Garreth had so generously offered because she wouldn’t betray her brother.

Yet wasn’t her brother betraying her? Her brother
and
her best friend? Shouldn’t the pain of their coming together fill her with horror—and tears?

Well, yeah. It should.
But it didn’t. None of Jackson’s earth-shattering confessions seemed, well, earth shattering.

Was she numb? Could she be in shock? Were her defenses shooting up, a wall being erected around her heart, for protection? Probably…but that’s not what it felt like. If her wall was going up, she’d have cut off all her emotions. Refused to respond genuinely, refused to think. She’d simply have pasted a vacant smile on her face and said what was expected of her—just like she’d conditioned herself to do when any situation became overwhelming.

She did none of that now.

Her brother’s voice faded into the background, even as he told her about his plans to move from Brisbane to Sydney. She knew his words were important, knew she should focus on them, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t think about anything other than the man she’d let get away.

Jackson was in love with her best friend. The pact was broken.

Which meant there was no longer anything standing between Garreth and herself. Well, nothing but Garreth’s imminent return to Toronto.

Jenna jerked at the realization. Dear God. She had to find him. Had to talk to him.
Now.
“Jackson?” she cut her brother off mid-sentence. “Where’s Garreth?”

Jackson blinked. “Um… Gazza?”

“Where is he?” Urgency resonated through her question.

“I’m not sure. In his chalet, I guess.”

“Where is it? What number?” Her heart began to pound. Her palms grew sweaty.

“Eight? No, nine. I think.” Jackson held up his hands, obviously perplexed. “Why are you asking?”

She sprung to her feet. “Eight or nine, which one?”

“Nine. Jenn, why is this such a big—?”

Without waiting to hear the rest of his sentence, Jenna spun and sprinted from the dining room. Two seconds later she sprinted back. She hugged her stunned brother and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Of course you have my blessing, bro. Both you and Rach do. Be happy with her.”

And then she charged off once again, praying to God she hadn’t rejected Garreth one time too many.

Garreth stood in the open doorway of his chalet, pulling his sweater on. The weather shouldn’t affect him like this. Yeah, the grass was frosted over, but still, it was only seven degrees Celsius outside. Clouds hovered above, grey and dark, the storm from the night before not quite spent. Fresh. Invigorating. The kind of climate he thrived in. So why did the air freeze his breath and his body?

Maybe it wasn’t the air. Maybe the emptiness in his gut chilled him from the inside out. He’d accomplished his mission. Given his housemate the one thing he’d always wanted: Rachel. Made a woman’s dreams come true by uniting her with her soul mate: Jackson. He should celebrate his triumph.

He’d enticed Jackson into bed with him and Rachel, tempted him into a threesome Jackson would never otherwise have considered. Jack and Garreth had shared women before, but they were always fun dalliances with willing partners, nothing more. Rachel was different. Garreth had slept with her knowing Jack loved her and would be furious. And jealous. Jealous enough to go after Rachel himself. His reasons for doing it hadn’t been completely selfish. He’d done it for Jack and Rach, to force them to come together and acknowledge their feelings for each other. He should feel proud.