Spark (24 page)

We check our bags and grab our tickets. Mr. Reilley is a nice old man who won’t let me carry a thing. He’s sweet, charming, and likeable just like Eric. It’s easy to see the resemblance.

“You’re sweating,” I whisper into Eric’s e
ar as we sit in our seats, waiting for the plane to take off.

“Not a fan of planes, that’s all.” I grab his hand and squeeze it, letting him know
that I’m here for him.

He leans in and kisses my lips softly. I love the taste and feel of his lips on mine. I don’t ever want to lose that. Lose him.

We brace for takeoff, and ease smoothly into the bright blue sky. Mr. Reilley is staring out the window, and Eric and I are playing a crossword puzzle. The flight is short, but I can’t hold it in any longer.

“I have to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” I whisper, breaking our hands apart.

“Want me to come with you? We could join the mile high club.” He winks, smirking at me.

“I don’t think that’d be appropriate…with your father being here and all,” I tease back
, winking.

“Party pooper,” he snips back, letting go of my hand.

“I’ll make it up to you later,” I promise, standing up and walking down the aisle.

I snicker at him as I turn back and glance at his pouty face. It makes me chuckle, making me love and adore him even more.

We’re seated up front so I make the uncomfortable walk down the long aisle of people staring at me. There’s a variety of people on board—children, husbands, wives, grandparents, babies. I’m not sure why, but it’s comforting.

I squeeze into the tiny stall they call a bathroom and lock the door. When I’m done, I wash my hands and face as I try
to keep it together. I’m not sure why meeting his mother scares me so much, but perhaps it’s because I want her to love me as much as Eric does. I’ve not had to worry about meeting someone’s family before, so I want to make a good first impression.

I give myself one more look over
, and comb through my hair. I squeeze sideways out of the door and shut it behind me. I quietly make my way down the aisle before I see something peculiar…someone familiar.

Oh, holy hell.

I stand for a moment and stare, making my eyes adjust to make sure I see what I think I see. Someone excuses themself from behind me as I’m blocking the aisle.

“Oh, sorry.” I move to the side, letting them through. My feet almost feel frozen in place.
Just as I’m about to continue walking to my seat, he turns around and stares at me.

Aiden.

I can barely catch my breath as we lock eyes.
What the hell is he doing here?
My mind starts thinking a million miles an hour…has he been in Santa Fe this whole time?

I panic as I begin to realize he’s after me. Or Eric. He’s after…
revenge.

Eric

I fall asleep on the couch like I do most nights. It’s less lonely that way. Spending long hours with guys at the fire house gets old and boring. It’s fun, but can be lonely considering most of the men have wives or girlfriends waiting for them back home.

Being raised in the southern state of Texas, I grew up with a very close and tightknit family. My mother made sure I learned my manners and that I developed a good work ethic. However, living out in the country made for a lonely childhood. It wasn’t until I started training that girls began to flock my way. Most were shocked to hear that I was single and hadn’t much experience, but it didn’t take long for that loneliness feeling to dissipate.

An ear-piercing sound breaks me from my sleep and I realize it’s a smoke detector from upstairs. The walls are paper-thin, and I hear everything the neighbor upstairs is doing. Sometimes it’s not much, just steps here and there, but sometimes I hear singing. I’m not sure who the girls are
who live above me, but one of them has the voice of an angel.

I jump from the couch and grab my O2 tank. I keep one in my apartment for safety reasons—which might actually come in handy now.

I realize I’m only in jeans and a ripped BFD shirt. It’s the one I wear when I’m working out usually, but with no time to change, I head out and run up the stairs to the fifth floor. The noise gets louder, and I can tell I’m close.

“Oh, thank god!” a young woman barrels out of her apartment. “Fucking neighbor’s apartment is filling up with smoke. Stupid old broad.”

“Is everyone out of your apartment, ma’am?” I ask.

“Ma’am? God, please. And no, my roommate is still sleeping.” She stands with her hands on her hips as if she’s been completely inconvenienced. “I’ll go get her before the smoke ruins my hair.”

“No, allow me,” I insist.

“Um,” she puts her arm out, blocking me. “I’m not letting a stranger inside my apartment—even if you are hot.” I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or what, but I can already tell she’s full of herself.

“I’m a fireman, you can trust me,” I assure. Most girls can’t resist the southern accent, and I can tell she can’t either.

“Fine, but I swear to God, you touch her, I cut your nuts off.” She points a finger at me, oddly serious.

I nod and swing the O2 tank over my back. The girl begins to run down the hall, and I barge into the apartment. I’m not sure where I’m going but the smoke is starting to fill the apartment, so I rush from room to room.

I open what I assume is a bedroom door and peek in. I see a woman lying peacefully on her bed. I step in, making sure not to startle her. I notice she’s wearing a very tiny
—
and lacy
gown.
Oh, fuck me, seriously?

I brush my fingers along her cheek sweeping her hair back. She’s simply stunning. She has chocolate brown hair and rosy cheeks. Her eyes flicker and she moans as she begins to roll over. I take my opportunity and graze my arm under her, carrying her against my chest.

She’s conscious, but I can tell the smoke is getting to her. I ask her name and she whispers “
Velaney.”
It’s the most beautiful name I’ve ever heard and if she wasn’t gasping for air, I would have been tempted to kiss her.

I offer her the mask and head out
of the apartment door. I don’t know why, but having her in my arms is something I want to treasure. There’s something sweet and innocent about her. The fact that she’s wearing a lacy nighty is appealing, but it’s the way she clings to me for protection that has me curious. It’s as if she’s never felt safe before. I’m intrigued, and the need to talk to her is unsettling, but I eventually make it to the lower level. Hesitantly I put her down and watch her run to her rude and obnoxious friend.

***

I’ve never brought a woman home to meet my mother. No one’s ever been worthy enough or been serious enough to go that far. The truth is, I love my mother more than life itself. I would never want to introduce her to someone I wasn’t serious about. She gets attached easily, and it would break her heart to meet someone that I wasn’t planning to marry.

“I have to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” she whispers in my ear, breaking our hands apart. She has the sweetest most sincere smile. I love watching her blush, even though she never notices she does.

“Want me to come with you? We could join the mile high club.” I tease, winking at her. I never knew being with someone who makes every part of me better, would feel this good. I can hardly keep my hands off her, but I know I have to control myself. She’s not fragile, but she deserves those intimate moments to be special—treasured.

I glance back at her as she walks down the aisle to the back. She’s perfec
t—in every single way—if that’s even possible, but she is—perfect for me that is. Her tiny hands fit perfectly in mine, my arms wrap around her just right, and her head tucks into my chest just below my collarbone.

I know
Velaney’s the one for me—I’ve known for a long time now, although we’ve been dealt with challenges. Her innocence…her past…the way she overcame her fears, are all reasons that I love her. Despite what she’s gone through and the way she deals with them just shows me how strong she truly is. She may think she’s weak, but she’s the complete opposite.

She’s strong.
Stronger than she realizes.

***

Brooke is a
Midwestern gal, from the cheese state of Wisconsin! Go Packers! She is a stay-at-home mom of three beautiful children (one daughter & two stepsons)
and in her rare spare time loves to write.
She studied psychology in college, and counseling and education in graduate school where she fell in love with writing and learning about human behavior. Most days you can find her reading and/or writing, and just hanging out with her family. She loves movies, cooking, and shopping. She’s addicted to Starbucks  & Coach purses.

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