Putting Out Fires (4 page)

He meant the world to me. I loved him so much. I wanted to tell him all of it, how I knew my life hadn’t been the same since the moment we met. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t open up like that. Not even with him.

Jared was already pouring himself a second glass of
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Marie Sexton
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wine. I hadn’t even tried it yet. I took a drink and almost choked on it. “Angelo’s right,” I said when I’d finally managed to swallow it. “This tastes like dirt.”

Jared laughed. “I kind of like it. The second glass goes down a lot smoother.”

There wasn’t much light left at all, but I could tell that his cheeks were red from the cold. I could see the cloud of his breath in the cool air. I put my glass down and moved behind him so that he was sitting in front of me, between my legs. I wrapped my arms around him, and he leaned back against me with a sigh. I buried my face in his coarse curls. His hair was getting too long, and he kept threatening to cut it. I objected each time, but I knew I’d have to let him soon. It was getting a bit out of hand.

“I’m sorry about the kitchen,” I said.

“You’re forgiven.” He reached back and slid his hand in between us, down my stomach to cup my groin. He squeezed a bit, teasing me. “I really do want to cuff you to the bed.”

“We can go home now, if you want.”

“Not yet,” he said, letting me go to pour himself more wine. “We should do something fun first.”
“That’s not fun?”

“You know what I mean.”

 

“I do,” I admitted. “It’s still early, and it
is
Valentine’s Day.”

 

“Exactly. And I’m hungry. All this wine on an empty stomach is giving me a nice buzz.”

 

“So what do you want to do?”
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He shrugged. “What’s Angelo showing tonight?” “
Goodfellas
.”
“For Valentine’s Day?”

“He says it’s Anti-Valentine’s. They’re serving nachos and wings and beer.”

 

Jared turned his head so he could look back at me over his shoulder. “That sounds perfect.”

And it did. That was the funny part. I’d been so determined to find something romantic, I hadn’t thought enough about
us
. We didn’t have quiet candlelight dinners. We didn’t watch tearjerkers. We drank beer and watched football and when it came to movies, we generally agreed that the more explosions, the better. How had I let myself forget?

I sat there with my arms around him, sharing his body heat and smelling his hair while he drank more wine. “It’s almost seven,” he said after I had no idea how long. “We should get going.”

I stood up and put a hand down to him to pull him to his feet. I’d only had the one tiny glass of wine, but he’d finished most of the rest.

“I think I’m violating an open container law,” he said. “I’ll give you a ticket later,” I said as I took the keys from his pocket.

I followed him to the car. Now that I wasn’t holding him close, I started to realize how cold it really was. Dark, too. Our only source of light was a fat gibbous moon. Going down took a lot longer than going up had. I was glad things had ended well, and yet, I still wished I had told him. I wished I

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had the nerve to open my mouth and say it all. Sometimes, I wished we weren’t both such
guys
.

He stopped at the Jeep. It was the same Jeep we’d driven up here the day we’d met. The one I’d bought from his sister-in-law the very next day. He stared at it for a moment before turning to look at me, although in the dark I couldn’t read the look on his face. He seemed to hesitate, and then he walked over to me. He put his arms around my waist and looked up at me. “I’m really glad you wanted the Jeep.”

It made me smile. It was such a relief. It made every doubt in my head disappear. I didn’t have to tell him anything, because he already knew. We had always understood each other so well, and I realized what a fool I’d been to doubt it.

Jared kissed me. His lips were cold, but his mouth was warm. I could taste the wine on his tongue, and it didn’t taste like dirt at all. It was sweet and tart at the same time, and he pulled me tight against him, his hands and the sounds he made as we kissed hinting at what would come later, once we were home.

He pulled away from me, a bit breathless from the kiss. “Next year,” he said, “ignore Zach and take Angelo’s advice instead.”

I laughed. “I will. But don’t you dare tell him you said that. I’ll never live it down.”

His arms were still around me, and he threw his head back and laughed, which gave me a good excuse to kiss his neck again. “It’s a deal,” he said. “I won’t tell him about the handcuffs either.”

“Thank God.”
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“I love you,” he said.

I held him tighter, burying my face in his hair. “Thank God for that too,” I said, mostly to myself. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

About the Author

M
ARIE
S
EXTON
was always good at the technical aspects of writing but never had any ideas for stories. After graduating from Colorado State University, she worked for eleven years at an OB/GYN clinic. She quit the clinic at about the same time she started reading M/M romances. At some point in the ensuing months, the static in her head cleared, and her first story was born.

Marie lives in Colorado. She's a fan of just about anything that involves muscular young men piling on top of each other. In particular, she loves the Denver Broncos and enjoys going to the games with her husband. Matt and Jared often tag along. Marie has one daughter, two cats, and one dog, all of whom seem bent on destroying what remains of her sanity. She loves them anyway.

Visit Marie's website at
http://www.MarieSexton.net
or find
her on Facebook.
More contemporary romance from Marie Sexton:
www.dreamspinnerpress.com

 

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