Slow Burn: A Colorado High Country Novel (17 page)

Smiling to herself, she crawled down to kneel between his splayed legs, then took his cock in hand, and ran her tongue along the underside from his balls to the tip.

His body’s response was immediate, his cock growing harder in her hand.

She licked him again, this time taking his length into her mouth and sucking. His cock went fully erect. She teased him with her tongue, tracing the thick rim of the head, licking away the pearl of moisture that emerged from the tip, flicking her tongue across the underside.

She heard a sharp inhale, looked up to find him watching her, shock on his face.

She began to move, using her mouth and hand together, stroking him.

He moaned, his fingers sliding into her hair, holding it to the side so that he could watch. “
Vicki
.”

She kept up the rhythm, trying to follow his body’s signals, going faster when his hips urged her to, increasing the pressure, cupping and rolling his balls in her free hand.

His every exhale was a quick gust of breath now, his body rigid, his balls drawing tight. “
Jesus
.”

He came with a groan, arching off the bed, one hand clenched tightly in her hair, the other fisting in the sheets. She drew her mouth off him, finishing him with her hand, his cock contracting, thick cum shooting onto his belly.

Slowly, his body began to relax.

“Good morning,” she said.

He chuckled, his blue eyes warm. “Good morning to you, too.”

She reached for a tissue.

He took it from her, wiped off his belly, tossed the tissue into the trash. “Come here, woman.”

She crawled upward, straddling him, and taking his mouth with hers.

His arms wrapped around her, holding her tight, his head lifting off his pillow as he kissed her back.

As sweet as this was, it couldn’t last forever.

She broke the kiss, glanced over at the clock. “I need to get up. It’s spa day.”

“Just do something for me before you go. It will only take a few minutes.”

“Sure.”

His lips curved in a sexy grin. “Sit on my face.”

* * *

E
ric walked
through the open bay doors at the firehouse, needing something to take his mind off Victoria. She was leaving Sunday—two days from today. Although he’d told himself a half dozen times that it didn’t matter, that he wasn’t really involved with her, that he’d gotten along fine before she’d come to Scarlet and he’d be fine when she was gone, he no longer believed that. It
did
matter.

Victoria was everything he hadn’t known he was missing, everything he hadn’t realized he wanted. And she was leaving.

He found Bill, the department’s mechanic, just inside the bay repairing an air pack. “Hey, Bill.”

“Hey, chief. How’s the wedding hoopla going?”

“The rehearsal is this evening. I thought I’d catch up on paperwork.”

“We’re out of toilet paper,” Bill called after him.

How could people who could problem-solve inside a burning building find it so hard to deal with everyday shit? “Did anyone think about bringing a roll from home or dipping into petty cash and buying some? Jesus!”

Welcome back to reality, buddy.

He made his way past the various apparatus—an engine, a ladder truck, a water tender, two ambulances, an emergency rescue vehicle, and four ATVs—to his office. First, he called Food Mart and asked Mick, the manager, to send over a case of TP, since no one else was apparently capable of doing so. Then he spent the next hour going through a week’s worth of emails and incident reports.

It had been a pretty quiet week. A fatal MVA involving a motorcycle in the canyon. An EMS call involving Mrs. Beech, the old high school English teacher, who’d collapsed in the Food Mart parking lot. An MVA with injuries, this time involving a car and a bicycle. Hank’s hash oil explosion.

How was Hank, anyway? Eric would have to give him a call.

Then he came to the report of the fatal rollover MVA involving the little girl who’d drowned. She’d unbuckled her seatbelt, trying to help her injured mother, and the creek’s current had carried her right out of the car’s broken window. Moretti had tried to reach her, breaking with Team safety procedures by jumping into the water with no rope or harness, but he hadn’t been able to catch her. There was nothing he could have done differently, nothing anyone could have done.

Bad fucking business.

Eric pulled a box of cards out of his bottom desk drawer—condolence cards—and filled one out, signing it on behalf of the Scarlet Springs Fire Department and addressing it to the child’s parents. It wouldn’t make one damned bit of difference to them, but it was the only thing he could do.

He’d just stuck a stamp on it when Taylor called to suggest they take Moretti climbing to get his mind off things. “That’s a good i—

The department’s tone sounded out through the hallway.

Dispatch called them over the scanner. “Scarlet FD, we have a report of a car fire on Fourth of July Road.”

“Sorry, man, got to go.”

Fourth of July Road sat high above Scarlet in an area that was almost entirely wilderness. It was a narrow, winding road with steep drop-offs and sharp switchbacks that made it tough to access with anything wider than a pickup. A car fire up there could easily spread to the trees and turn into a dangerous wildland blaze.

Eric replied to dispatch, feeling almost relieved to have an emergency on his hands. Unlike his feelings for Victoria,
this
was something he knew how to handle.

He shouted to Ryan, his A-shift captain, who fell in behind him as they jogged to the locker room. “I’ll drive the water tender. You head up in your pickup.”

“I thought you were on vacation.”

“I’m taking a vacation from my vacation.”

Ryan laughed. “You got it, chief.”

.

V
ic sat with Lexi
, Britta, and Winona in the ocean-themed waiting room at the spa, trying to catch up on her emails from Abigail. The women were all wrapped in fluffy, white bathrobes, fresh from getting facials. Now it was time for the manicure and pedicure.

“I think we should match, don’t you, Vic?” Lexi asked.

Vic looked up. “Yes, absolutely.”

“Then let’s all get French manicures and pedicures,” Lexi said.

The door opened, and four manicurists walked in.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we don’t allow cell phones in the treatment areas for security reasons. You can store your phone in your locker.”

“Oh, sorry.” Vic of all people could appreciate that. She got to her feet. “I need to send an important message. I’ll be right back.”

She stepped out of the waiting room into the locker room, quickly scrolling through Abigail’s messages then answering all of the questions in a single long text message. She ended it by letting Abigail know she wouldn’t be available for the rest of the day or tomorrow either.

Abigail’s reply was almost instantaneous.

Vic stared at her phone, stunned by Abigail’s threat, anger making her face burn. She typed a reply.

She pressed send, shut off her phone, and locked it in her locker with her handbag, so angry she could spit. She’d done her best—mostly—to keep up with Abigail’s messages and emails, but she was on vacation, her first real vacation in more than a year. She couldn’t help it if the spa didn’t allow cell phones. Besides, she couldn’t very well get her nails done and text at the same time. Tomorrow was her best friend’s wedding, one of the most important days in Lexi’s life, and Vic was her maid of honor. She wasn’t going to spend the wedding rehearsal or the wedding on her phone.

Not wanting to cast shadows over everyone else’s fun, Vic took a deep breath and followed her manicurist to the treatment room where Lexi and the others now sat in pedicure chairs, their feet soaking in warm, scented water.

She pushed a smile onto her face. “I’m back.”

But Lexi knew her too well. “Trouble at work?”

“Nothing important.” She sat, slipped off her little spa sandals, and put her feet in the water. “Oh, that feels good.”

Winona, who’d never had a pedicure before, was busy playing with the massage controls. “You should try this, Vic. Did you see? The chair gives massages.”

Vic didn’t tell her that most pedicure chairs were like this. “Cool!”

“She doesn’t need a massage,” Britta said. “She has Eric.”

Not for much longer.

Vic forced another smile onto her face. “Should we practice your vows, Lexi?”

“I’d like that. I’ve got them memorized, but I’m afraid I’ll be so nervous that I’ll screw up.”

Vic read along while Lexi recited the vows she and Austin had written, Winona laughing and struggling to hold still.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It really tickles.”

“Oh, my God, Lexi, look at the clock!” Britta blurted. “By this time tomorrow, you’ll be a married woman.”

Lexi’s eyes went wide. “It’s really happening, isn’t it?”

Vic took her hand. “Yes, sweetie, it is.”

* * *

I
t was almost
one in the afternoon when they left the spa. They ate a late lunch at a trendy sushi joint, then strolled Boulder’s Pearl Street Mall, checking out the boutiques, talking and laughing the way they’d done when Lexi lived in Chicago.

“I’ve missed this,” Vic said.

Lexi threw her arm around Vic’s shoulder, gave her a squeeze. “So have I.”

Vic bought a little sleeveless blue dress with a poppy-red floral pattern, taking time in the dressing room to send a text message to Eric.

It was the truth. She could barely think of anything but him, her mind filled with images from last night. Eric looking like a movie star in his white tux. Eric tearing off his tie and shirt and yanking down his fly, eager to get inside her. Eric dancing his way to the bed, naked, with her in his arms.

How about we fuck until we break this bed?

She waited for a response, but when he didn’t reply in a few minutes, she quickly finished dressing and slid her phone back into her purse.

He still hadn’t responded two hours later when they left Boulder and headed back up the canyon toward Scarlet. She tried to tell herself that he was probably just busy with Austin doing guy things. They’d talked about climbing today. Still, she couldn’t shake the fear that she’d gone too far by admitting she missed him.

Oh, she hated this part of romance—all the uncertainty, having feelings she was afraid to express in case he wasn’t feeling the same way. It was a stupid dance, and it wasted her time, energy, and sanity. Then again, this wasn’t really a romance, was it? She didn’t know what it was.

“Oh, look!” Lexi pointed as they pulled into the inn’s driveway. “The tent is up.”

A forty-foot-long white party tent stood on the west side of the inn. Staff from the rental company were busy setting up chairs in a wide spiral around the little stand of aspens to the south. The bench that usually sat there had been moved to make room for the wedding party at the center.

Vic and the others followed Lexi to the party tent, where staff were draping cloth banners in lavender and sage from the ceiling of shirred white fabric. “This is beautiful.”

Lexi gave them a tour. “There will be antique green bottles on all the tables with bouquets. That table at the end is where we’ll all sit, Austin and I in the center. There will be bouquets on that table, too. The dance floor will be on the other end. I think that’s the cake table there. Or maybe that’s the guestbook table.”

Lexi introduced herself to the person in charge and answered a few questions, giving Vic time to run up to her room, freshen up, and change into her new dress.

And still nothing from Eric.

She willed herself to put him out of her mind. Today wasn’t about her and Eric. It was about Lexi marrying the man she loved.

When Vic went back outside, she found Lexi talking with Rose, who’d dressed in a white broomstick skirt, white tank top, and a white lacy shawl.

“I appreciate your suggestions, but I think we’ll just do it the way we planned.”

Vic walked over to offer Lexi moral support.

“If you’d like, we could do a purification ceremony tonight—smudge the grounds, the tent, and the wedding party.”

Lexi shook her head. “I think we’ll just go with the ceremony the way it’s written on the sheet I gave you. But thanks so much, Rose. I know you care.”

“I’m just trying to bring a sense of sacredness to your joining.”

Vic had an idea. “What if you smudged the space right now—before the rehearsal? That way it will all be purified before they step into it as a couple.”

Lexi gaped at her.

“That’s a good idea, Victoria.” Rose glanced at her watch. “There’s not much time before we’re supposed to start.”

“Austin texted to say the guys are going to be late, so there’s no rush,” Lexi said. “They went climbing in Eldo and hit bad traffic.”

That explained why Eric hadn’t texted Vic back. He’d probably been dangling in the air when her message had come.

“I’ve got to run home, but I can be back in about five minutes.” Rose took off at a fast walk, shawl flapping in the air behind her like butterfly wings.

As soon as she was out of sight, Lexi sagged against Vic. “That ought to keep her busy for a while. I think you just saved my sanity.”

They joined Britta and Winona, who sat on the back porch sipping lemonade with Cheyenne, Austin’s sister, and his parents, Michael and Roxanne.

Kendra walked outside with another pitcher of lemonade and a stack of plastic cups. “The bride’s girls are here. I hope the groom didn’t get cold feet.”

“There’s no chance of that,” Roxanne said. “My boy is head-over-heels.”

A few minutes later, the sound of tires on gravel turned everyone’s heads toward the driveway. Austin pulled up, and he, Jesse, and Chaska stepped out of the vehicle, all of them looking dirty and sweaty. They moved in on the lemonade like predators, taking cups as fast as Kendra could fill them.

Vic’s stomach sank.

Eric wasn’t with them.

“Where did you boys go climbing?” Michael asked.

Austin held out his cup for more. “We played around on a couple of routes on Red Garden Wall. Is Hawke back yet?”

“He didn’t go climbing with you?” Chey asked.

Austin set his empty cup on the table. “He got toned out for a car fire up on Fourth of July Road. I listened on the scanner for a while. It had begun to spread to the hillside by the time he and his crew arrived, so they’ve had a busy afternoon.”

Now do you feel stupid?

Vic had been worried that she’d made him angry or that he was just ignoring her, when he’d been off saving the world again.

* * *

E
ric stripped
out of his gear, glancing at the clock on the locker room wall. The wedding rehearsal had started a half hour ago. He didn’t have time for a shower. Unless he wanted to miss the entire thing, he’d have to go as he was—sweaty and smoky and high on adrenaline.

Damn, he loved his job.

He’d arrived at the scene to find an old Ford F-150 and a quarter-acre patch of the hillside on fire. The owner had already popped the hood, letting lots of nice oxygen reach the fire and enabling it to spread. They’d divided into three teams, one for the vehicle and two for the hillside. After that, it had been textbook—apart from the volunteer who’d moved in to overhaul the vehicle fire without full bunker gear or an air pack.

“What the fuck do you think this is—a barbecue?” Eric had shouted at him through his mask. “Get away from this scene, Nelson, and read your training manual again. Move it!”

Eric hadn’t lost a firefighter in the two years he’d been in charge, and he wasn’t about to start now. What would have happened if that vehicle had blown with the kid standing right there, exposed?

Still, it had felt good to be out there, working his body hard, strategizing to beat the flames, taking control of an emergency before it could become a catastrophe. It had helped to clear his head, get his mind off Victoria, put things back into perspective.

Yeah, his life was sane again.

He slipped into his jeans and T-shirt, then swung by his office to shut down his computer and get that condolence card in the mail. He found his cell phone sitting on a stack of papers on his desk. He grabbed it and hurried out to his truck, checking it for calls and messages. There was only one, and it was from Victoria.

Her words caught him right in the solar plexus, breath gusting from his lungs.

God, he missed her, too.

So much for sanity.

He set the phone aside, figuring he’d get there faster if he just drove and didn’t spend ten minutes trying to come up with some kind of smart, sexy reply.

Two minutes later, he parked his truck behind the inn, which had been transformed into a wedding theme park with a giant white tent and chairs. The others stood together on the back porch, waiting.

Shit.

He climbed out of the truck and jogged over to them. “Sorry I’m late.”

Taylor grinned. “Did you have a nice fire?”

Taylor knew him too well.

Eric chuckled. “An old Ford pickup overheated and ignited fuel leaking through a cracked seal. It burned about a quarter acre of the hillside, but we got it.”

Then he noticed Rose, who walked across the lawn, wafting smoke into the air from one of her sage bundles with a large black feather and saying something, the words just beyond his hearing. “What the hell is she doing?”

“Purifying,” everyone said at once.