Fan The Flames (Man Of The Month Book 3) (8 page)

“Yes, ma’am.” Brad extended his arm to indicate Scarlett should go first. Flustered from the effect of one brief touch, she stepped forward and grabbed her long, black wool coat. “Here, let me,” he offered.

He held it open and she stepped in, his fingers lightly grazing the nape of her neck as he settled the coat on her back. A delightful shiver ran down her spine. “Thank you,” she said, taking another step forward. Fingers fumbled with the buttons. One tiny tickle of him touching her skin and her whole body had gone haywire.

She stepped out in the brisk night air, the weather on this Friday the thirteenth having turned colder. “So much for it being decent for the Mardi Gras parade tomorrow. We got lucky with the pet parade last weekend. That was in the mid-fifties.”

“Yeah,” Brad said. “Felt like a heat wave once the snow melted. But later tonight the wind’s going to shift. It’s going to get ever colder. Maybe even have some more snow later in the week.”

“Lovely,” Scarlett said. “I hate snow. Why did I move here again?”

“So you could go to this fancy schmancy ball with me and save me from all the hordes.”

“Oh yes,” Scarlett teased back. “I’d almost forgotten.”

“Her indifference wounds me,” Brad joked. He placed a guiding hand on her back and they walked to his Honda Pilot, which he’d backed out of the garage. Scarlett’s mom was parked next to the Prius on the extra parking pad. He opened the passenger door, reached in, and removed a square, white box from the front seat. “I thought you might like one of these.”

“Thank you.” Touched, Scarlett opened the box, and thanks to the streetlights, could see that he’d bought her a Mardi Gras–themed wrist corsage made of purple-and-gold ribbon and orange roses. “It’s beautiful. I’ll put it on when we get there.” Brad assisted her into the car and shut the door behind her. “So no uniform?” she asked, meaning his firefighter dress attire. Todd had always been in his dress uniform for military balls.

“Not for this.” Brad put on his seat belt and she did the same.

“Well, the tux suits you. I may have some difficulty fending them all off.”

“Ha.”

“I’m serious. You’re attractive.”

He started the car. “You find me attractive?”

“Well, yes. I’m a woman. Any woman would. You’re not ugly.”

He backed into the alley. “Gee, that’s an endorsement.”

“You know what I mean. You’re handsome. You look great in that tux. Getting married didn’t make me blind. If I hadn’t been with Todd, I would have made a beeline toward you.”

“And now?” He eased the SUV out of the narrow alley and onto northbound Grand.

“Well, now I’m the luckiest woman there. I get to be with Mr. July, and it’s made even better because he’s a good friend. And, no, I still haven’t seen the calendar because I unpacked all week and you asked me not to.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She’d done it because she wanted them to be friends, and being friends meant respect. Scarlett averted her gaze and stared out the passenger window to take in the city she hadn’t seen in years while Brad concentrated on traffic out the front. Luckily the Blues hockey team was out of town, so they wouldn’t have to compete with hockey fans for spots in the City Hall parking lot. However, Scarlett saw that didn’t matter as the event provided a valet service. “Part of the ticket,” Brad told her after she asked.

City Hall had opened in 1904, and the front of the Renaissance-revival-style building was all lit up. Purple, green and orange lights cast a festive glow on the massive building. Scarlett had been here only once before—to get a marriage license. After dark, the place transformed like one of those
Night at the Museum
movies, just without the animals and talking statues. The harsh fluorescent lighting was gone—those same colorful lights from outside infused through open space and created patterns on the marble floor. Festive banners draped down pillars. Masks hung suspended in the air. Waiters worked behind strategically placed bars.

People lingered on all floors, with the VIP tables on the second and third floors. Some revelers wore colorful masks complete with feathers and sequins that clearly they’d bought themselves, while others didn’t wear even the free masks being handed out. Dresses varied from short to long, with the majority like hers, Scarlett saw with great relief. In fact, it seemed as if almost anything festive was appropriate; some partygoers were even dressed in festive Mardi Gras costumes. As for the men, most were in formal tuxes, although some had opted for brightly colored bow ties in keeping with the Mardi Gras theme. Others wore vests that might be found on a court jester, and many, like Brad, simply wore black tie.

Although, none wore it as well as he did, Scarlett thought as they checked their overcoats. “Wait a minute.” Brad drew her to a quiet corner and took the corsage out of the box and placed it on her left wrist. His fingers caressed her wrist and fire spread. “Like it?”

Her mouth had dried, but she got the words out. “I do. Thank you.” The hand that held the empty box trembled, and Brad took it from her. He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

“Yes.” They strode across the rotunda floor. He might not be a politician or one of St. Louis’s rich elite, but men nodded in greeting. Women smiled appreciatively and gave him long sideways glances. Probably thinking of his exposed torso in the calendar, Scarlett thought. Not that she blamed them. Already, at times, glimmers of interest flickered in her brain—until she uncomfortably shoved them aside. First, it seemed almost like a betrayal of Todd, although she knew that being a widow didn’t mean she was dead too. Yet, she didn’t grieve like she had in the beginning. The hurt had faded—and for that she felt guilty. Todd had never made her quiver the way a few innocent touches from Brad had. The sizzle from his every contact burned its way through her and she resisted the urge to rub her wrist where it still tingled.

“What do you want to drink?” Brad asked as they queued up at the bar. Nearby a juggler entertained a small crowd. Down the way, a mime pretended he was stuck in a box.

She paused. How long had it been since she’d been out? At least two years. Maybe three. That was probably the last time she’d had alcohol, too. Single moms were more likely to curl up with the kids and drink chocolate milk. “I’ll take white wine.”

He took her hand and studied the corsage, sending the butterflies in her stomach into flight. “Who knew those colors would work so well? I’ll be right back.”

Brad headed for the bar and Scarlett worked to calm her nerves. A woman dressed as a harlequin came by and draped a multicolored boa over Scarlett’s shoulders. She toyed with the feathers, trying to make sense of how Brad made her body react. She wasn’t a giggly young girl. But as he returned her heart jumped. He turned to hand her a short, plastic wineglass. In his hand, he held a red aluminum Budweiser bottle. He used it to point to the boa. “Where’d you get that?”

She shrugged. The woman was long gone, off to spread the Mardi Gras cheer. “We’re up on the third floor. The calendar committee actually reserved some tables for us,” Brad told her.

“I guess the view’s better.”

He grinned. “Well, the high rollers pay more to be on the second floor. The rest of the tables are general admission, first come, first served, I guess. This is my first time at this.”

“Then our first date is an adventure for both of us.” They walked up the wide staircase, and Scarlett was glad he couldn’t see her face. Calling something a first date implied there would be a second.

As they ascended, they left the first-floor entertainment behind. “There’s supposed to be an acrobatic show before the band begins playing. Heard it’s eighties music tonight.”

“It all sounds interesting,” Scarlett said, taking in everything as she passed by. They found their table, where they were seated with several other calendar guys and their dates or significant others. Scarlett met so many people, she felt like her head spun. There was Taylor Krebs, the calendar photographer, who was engaged to firefighter Joe Marino. They’d met the day of the shoot, when she’d done Brad’s photos as well. Scarlett also met vet Kat Saunders, who was dating animal task force cop Jack Donovan. She and Jack had met at one of the first calendar balls and bonded over an injured puppy. “We’ll probably see you at a lot of these,” Kat said. “Being that you’re new in town, if you need anything, call me.”

“I will,” Scarlett promised, the wine and good company allowing her to relax.

The circus show came complete with aerial acrobatics, and the live band followed. She’d been born in the eighties but still recognized many of the songs, although she wasn’t singing along like many of the older guests were.

Still, musical era be darned, she hadn’t danced in forever, either, and as the heavy bass beat pumped through her, she wanted to dance. So she grabbed Brad’s hand. “Let’s go dance!”

“Okay.” They made their way down to the dance floor and joined the crowd waving their hands. The pounding energy was infectious, and she and Brad stayed out for a second, then a third number.

“This is so great!” Scarlett shouted over the music.

“I know! Glad you’re having fun.”

“Oh, I am.” As a slower song began, Scarlett shook her head. “Let’s skip this one. I’m thirsty.”

They made their way to the edges, headed back to the bar. “Wine again?”

“Could I have some water too?”

“Sure.” Brad took a step and turned back when a voice called her name.

“Scarlett?”

She also turned, hearing her name. “Scarlett O’Reilly. It is you.”

“It’s Harrison now,” she corrected, smiling brightly as the man approached. Tried to place him. Beside her, Brad froze. The man held out his hand in greeting. “It’s me. Tommy Rourke. I was, well, still am, a friend of Sean’s.”

“That’s right! Tommy!” Her smile widened and she shook his hand. He’d gained about twenty pounds. Hair had started to recede.

“I’m sorry for your loss. Sean told me. My Karen died three years ago. Leukemia. Been a single dad since then. My Kyle is three.”

“My daughter is four. And I remember Karen,” Scarlett said. His wife had been a perky, bubbly basketball star, the type that you couldn’t hate or envy because she was simply so darn nice. “She was a senior, I think, when I was a freshman.”

Tommy smiled, pleased she’d remembered. “That’s right, you also went to DuBourg. Sean and I were at SLUH. Karen and I met at one of those mixers. High school sweethearts. Like you and Todd. And this is…”

Scarlett’s hand flew in front of her mouth, embarrassed. What must Brad think? Beside her, he stood statue still. “Oh, sorry. Tommy, this is Brad Silverman. He and my husband were best friends. He’s technically my landlord. I’m renting his house on Victor. Just off Grand. I moved back a few weeks ago.”

“Really? That’s not too far from me. Just a few blocks south, if that. St. Pius, right?”

“Yes.” Living in San Diego for the past ten years, she’d forgotten just how much St. Louisans defined themselves by where they went to high school or where they went to church. It instantly defined your social class.

Tommy sized up Brad, who stood at least eight inches taller. He reached his hand out and Brad shook it. Must have gripped hard because Tommy hid a wince. “Nice to meet you, Brad. Glad you could help Scarlett out.” Tommy turned back to Scarlett before Brad could answer. “I don’t want to keep you, but I’d love to catch up sometime. Will you be at the fish fry next Friday?”

Scarlett laughed. “My parents are already recruiting me to work the dessert table.”

Tommy’s smile widened. “Perfect. I’ll be there. Never miss it if I can help it. We can catch up then. If I don’t see you later, have fun tonight.”

“Thanks. You too.” Scarlett stared after him as Tommy merged into the crowd. She turned to Brad. “That’s a friend of my brother’s.”

“So I gathered,” Brad said, his expression inscrutable.

She frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” Brad shrugged. He’d discarded the suit coat, leaving it at their table while they’d been dancing. He snagged two bottles of water from a roaming waiter.

Scarlett planted her hand on her hip, used the other to hold the bottle of water Brad had gotten. “That’s just Tommy. Friend of my brother’s.”

“You already said that.” Brad uncapped his water. She continued to stare at him. He cupped her elbow, moved her out of traffic. “He was hitting on you, that’s all.”

She frowned. “No, he wasn’t. He was being friendly.”

“If I wasn’t here, he’d be all over you. He’s a widower with a kid your daughter’s age.”

“Which means nothing,” Scarlett scolded.

As if choosing his words, Brad took a sip. “It means he’s lonely and looking. I know the type.”

“Please. It’s nothing to hang out with someone at the fish fry. I’ll be serving cake with my mom. Hardly a place where I’m going to be ravaged, wouldn’t you agree?”

“It’s just ironic that I brought you to fend off the women and it’s you who is getting hit on. He asked you out and you don’t see it.”

“Well, I haven’t dated anyone except Todd. I don’t know what I’m looking for. I feel as if you’re making this my fault.”

“No.” He held up the bottle in defense. This conversation was not going well. “That’s not my intention at all. I have no control over you and I know that. I just…”

Brad stopped before he said too much. Todd’s instructions were that she be happy. That she find someone so she didn’t go through the rest of her life alone. But the moment he’d walked into her house and seen her standing there, looking like a goddess in her dark blue dress, he’d wanted nothing more than to touch her. He wanted to run his fingers from the dip behind her ear to the indentation at the base of her throat. Then he wanted to replace his fingers with his lips so he could plant kisses on her lovely, creamy skin. He wanted to take the pins out of hair the color of sunset and let the waves pool around her shoulders. She placed her empty water bottle on a nearby table. “Can we dance more? I haven’t danced in forever and I’m really enjoying it. I don’t want seeing Tommy to spoil anything.”

“Sure.” Brad added his empty bottle to the collection on the table. Dancing was safe, and he was probably being unreasonable. But the rush of jealousy that had hit him when Tommy had approached had been almost overpowering. For a man who prided himself on control, he hated that he’d lost it, even if for a moment.