Flame (Firefighters of Montana Book 5) (6 page)

There was nothing comforting about the dreams she’d been having about Dex. They were hot and confusing. There was sex with Dex in the fire station, both naked and covered by a parachute. In the next one, they were in the middle of the forest on a picnic rug, and her ecstatic screams scared the birds out of the treetops. Another time, they were in his truck. And in the most recent one, they were right here in Cady’s Cakes, out back in the kitchen, and there might have been chocolate frosting involved.

The result of all this was, she had felt tense and unfulfilled and as useless as a half-risen sponge all week.

Today, Cady couldn’t think about being naked with Dex McCoy. She had put a sign up on the previous Monday, advising her customers the shop would be closing up early on Saturday. She didn’t have to give them a reason. Everyone knew why and there hadn’t been one complaint. The whole town had been in shock a year before when Captain Edwards had died. It had seemed as if time stood still that day. Cady remembered it so clearly. She’d just returned to Glacier Creek from California and had been painting inside the newly-leased shop that was soon to become Cady’s Cakes. When the news spread, the town stopped. People pulled over on the main street, trying to absorb the news, not trusting themselves to drive and take it all in at the same time. Phones stopped ringing. A hush blanketed every town around Flathead Lake. The news spread as fast as one of the wildfires Russ had died trying to extinguish. It brought home all too clearly the risks the smokejumpers took to protect people and property and the mountains. She didn’t have to speak to that many people in Glacier Creek to hear stories of bad fires, properties and stock destroyed, whipping winds and flames and choking smoke. Everyone, at one time or another, had looked up into that big Montana sky and seen the smoke from a fire, like evil clouds filled with ash and debris.

Cady fought the urge to stuff a chocolate chip cupcake into her mouth while she waited for Jacqui and Vin. Thinking about smokejumpers made her think about Dex McCoy again and thinking about Dex McCoy made her want to eat cake. Those dreams made her want to eat lots of cake. Why hadn’t she had a chocolate chip cupcake on hand that night, four years ago, when she’d kissed him? The night she’d given in to all those years of longing for him, of missing him, by smashing her mouth against his, and he’d just stood there like a big old tree. Her clumsy attempt had been a total failure. Like her entire love life up to that point. Did he even know she wanted to fuck him? Maybe she hadn’t been direct enough. Maybe Dex had figured out that she was still a virgin then. Maybe he’d had a thing about virgins, like a run-a-million-miles-from-a-virgin kind of aversion to virgins. Or maybe, more accurately, he’d had a thing about not accepting random offers from desperate, drunken women.

“Hey, Cady,” Jacqui called from the front door of the shop.

Cady was so glad of the distraction. “Hey, guys.” She patted the top of the box. “This is the last of the food. I hope people eat. I’ve made so much.”

Vin chuckled. “Cakes from Cady’s Cakes? I think I’d better stand guard duty on these. There could be rioting.”

Jacqui slipped an arm around her fiancé and looked up at him. When he pulled her close, returned the look of love, Cady sighed. What her friends had was so tender and gentle and so right. Vin had seen Jacqui through her heartbreak and had been there when she was ready to move on with her life. He was a good man. One of the best.

“I’m sure there’ll be enough to go round,” Jacqui added. “So, we’ll see you at the station. Cady?”

Cady swiped her hands on her apron. She could feel the silky grit of flour and there was a smudge of melted chocolate on her hip, which had hardened into a crust. “I wouldn’t miss it. But first, I’m going to head upstairs to my apartment and make myself presentable.”

“Don’t scrub too hard. That smell of chocolate is pretty hot,” Vin said with a grin.

He took the boxes and headed out to his truck.

Jacqui looked over her shoulder, waiting until Vin was out of earshot before she spoke. “Hey, Cady. What happened with you and Dex the other day, when he came to pick up the trail mix bars?”

“Nothing.” Cady began picking at the hardened chocolate on her apron.

“You sure about that? He came back to the station looking might pissed.”

“He was pissed? He—” Cady took a deep breath. She’d tried to give him a muffin—a muffin, for God’s sake—and he’d done it again. He’d rejected it—and her. She got the message from Dex McCoy, loud and clear.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing. It was nothing.” Cady reached around to her back and undid her apron, tugged it over her head. “You, skedaddle. I’ve got to pretty myself up some. And you know how long that takes, right?”

Jacqui had arched a brow. Cady knew what that look meant. She wasn’t buying Cady’s brush off. But she was also enough of a friend not to push. “I’ll see you there.”

Cady locked the door, turned right on the sidewalk, unlocked another door, and was upstairs in the shower in her apartment in record time.

*

Rather than being
a somber affair, the commemoration ceremony for Captain Russ Edwards had been one filled with love, memories, humour and respect. A year had passed, and the shock and grief of his accidental death, while never forgotten, had been tempered by time. The new captain, Sam Gaskill, had paid a moving tribute to a man he never knew and Vin, one of Captain Edwards’ oldest friends, had everyone laughing and crying with his recollections.

Cady had stood at the back of the crowd, not wanting to be up the front where the smokejumpers and their partners were gathered. There was something about the smokejumpers. There was an expression in their eyes that hinted they had seen things, had experienced dangers no one else could imagine. It gave them all a softness under the hard edges, even though they might not have wanted anyone to know. Every time those men and women climbed up into a plane to fight a forest fire, there was the chance they wouldn’t come back. That had to change a person. Not to mention their partners, who waited, keeping hearth and home together while their loved ones were away. Cady shivered at the thought of what they must go through.

After the ceremony, a group of people drove from the station to The Drop Zone to share food and company. All Cady’s donated cakes, as well as food prepared by the bar’s staff, were lined up on the long wooden bar. As soon as Cady had walked in, Hugh Ferguson had motioned her over.

“Nice work on the food, Cady.” He pulled her in for a huge hug.

She went willingly into the big man’s arms. Hugh was like a father figure to the smokejumpers and ever since she’d returned to Glacier Creek and had been supplying her trail bars to the crew, he’d treated her as part of the firefighting family. She didn’t deserve that but, given she had no family left, she took it with warm gratitude.

“Really, Hugh. It was nothing. It’s the least I can do. We’re all so grateful for what they do.”

He let go and held her at arm’s length. There was a twinkle in his wrinkled eyes. “You must have been slaving over a hot oven for weeks.”

“Oh, it was nothing.” She smiled. “Did you see the red velvet cupcakes? I know they’re your favorite.”

He laughed. “Damn right they are. I’d better go grab one before they all disappear.”

There was already a crowd gathered around the food and she could hear groans of delight. That was what made her truly happy. The way food could comfort, could help heal, could gather people together in this way. She saw it in Cady’s Cakes everyday—for happy occasions, for breakups, for sadness, and for joy. Life’s rich pageant was always better with cake.

“Nice spread.” She stilled at the words. She’d heard his voice in her dreams every night for the past week. A tingling sensation buzzed up her spine and clenched her throat. Dex was next to her, his eyes fixed on the feasting crowd.

“Hello, Dex.” She managed to say and then turned to him.

Which was when one of her dreams came back to her in vivid high-definition. Dex had been in it. Naked. Well, not naked at first. Shirtless, standing in the doorway to her bedroom, eyeing her up and down like she was smeared head to toe in chocolate frosting, and then he strode to her, pushed her back down on her bed, and…

Oh, God, the man looked almost as good in the flesh as he had in her dream. No jeans and T-shirt today, he was dressed in a navy suit, narrowly cut, which emphasised his wide shoulders and his slim hips. A white shirt set off his deep tan and his tie, a deep purple, drew her attention to his chest. He had meant the suit to be a reflection of his respect for Russ Edwards, and it was all that and so much more. It turned him from rugged smokejumper into international spy. Cady suppressed the urge to reach her fingers around his silk tie and frisk him for weapons.

Dex looked at her with a serious expression, his blue eyes hooded, taking in her outfit. She’d worn one of her special occasion outfits—a green wraparound dress, which smoothed over her curves and swayed when she walked. She’d chosen a delicate silver necklace and matching earrings and a pair of heels, a big concession for someone who lived in chef clogs.

He cocked his head towards the food. “It’s good, what you’ve done.”

A compliment from Dex McCoy? Well, well. “It’s my way of saying thanks. To the smokejumpers, I mean.”

“Your trail bars are a big hit.”

Cady smiled. She hoped Dex wasn’t moonlighting as a food reviewer. All people would get was “good”. “Thank you. I have a secret ingredient that no one knows about.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“A secret means you don’t tell anyone.” And boy, had she kept her fair share of secrets when it came to this man. “Tell me something, McCoy. You just said that people like my trail bars. Does that include you? Do
you
like my trail bars?”

He studied her face. She felt her cheeks warm and almost sizzle under his gaze. And then, oh God, other parts of her were sizzling, too.

“Yep.”

She splayed a hand to her chest. His gaze flickered to her breasts, longer than a glance, which was interesting and confusing all at once. “Oh, my. You actually ate something that I made?”

He smiled, almost reluctantly. “Don’t have much choice. They’re in our ration packs. It’s that or starve.”

Cady playfully saluted. “Glad to be of service to the men and women of the Glacier Creek service station.”

Dex stood silently next to her. They watched Sam and Laurel take some of the plates of food and offer them to the people milling in the crowd.

Dex finally cleared his throat. “Can I get you a drink or something?”

Memory plays tricks, doesn’t it?
For years, you don’t remember anything then wham.
She had a horrifying flashback. She glanced around urgently, checking the location of the small dance floor and the jukebox. It had been right here. The bar was behind her. The wall of bottles to the left. Oh, God. They were standing in the exact spot. This was where they’d had the argument that had led to that kiss with Dex four years before. The kiss she should have forgotten all about, but never could. She’d never felt that way with anyone, ever.

“You want to buy me a drink?” she asked.

“Sure. I’m on call so I’m not drinking but that doesn’t mean you can’t, right?”

“Yes. Okay. You can buy me a drink.”

He looked down at his shoes then up at her. “It’s whiskey, right?”

“Yes.” She was taken aback. “How do you know that?”

“I remember.” Dex turned to catch Hugh’s attention and the bartender poured one. Dex handed it to Cady. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” She sipped it, waited until the familiar warm inner glow hit her chest, making her feel brave. Or was that reckless?

“Look, Dex. There’s an elephant in the room right here between us.”

He raised one eyebrow.

“Hell, I don’t mean an actual elephant.” Was he making this harder on purpose just to torture her?

“Listen. You and me? We have to get past the thing that happened.”

“What thing is that?”

“Look. We’re older now. I’m a business owner. You’re a smokejumper. We run into each other professionally. We’re not kids in high school anymore.”

When Dex remained silent, Cady nervously continued talking. “Four years ago, the night before I left for California, you and I were standing right about here talking, well, fighting, and then you dragged me off and we—”

He quickly raised a hand. “Wait one minute. There was no dragging.”

“Okay, there was no dragging. I followed you. But after that, back there in the dark, when you and I were alone?” Cady took a deep breath. “I did something really stupid.”

“I don’t remember,” Dex said, turning to the bar, resting his elbows there before looking sideways at Cady.

Oh, so now he was trying to be nice. And that made him even more incredibly sexy. The suit. Those eyes. The trying-not-to-smile smile. And what good was any of it? He still wasn’t interested in her one bit. The feeling sat like a rock-hard cupcake in the pit of Cady’s stomach.

She leaned in, her arm brushing against his. “Look, Dex. You don’t have to play nice to protect my feelings, okay? We both know what happened. We both know that I kissed you. It was stupid and I want to apologize.”