Light My Fire

31. Luke

CHAPTER 31

Luke

I look from our hands to her face. She’s smiling lightly, her eyes open and trusting. Interested.

Fuck, she’s so beautiful.

I want her.

Not just physically. I want to be close to her. There’s a warmth there, a goodness that keeps reaching out and trying to wrap itself around me. It feels as if I really let it, I’d feel…lighter. Happy. Whole. She could fill in these gaps and cracks that have developed in my heart and my life.

And damn, that’s all really woo-woo for a guy like me.

I take a breath. “Marci and I fell in love fast. I met her while I was going through fire school. She was—is—a nurse. We didn’t have a lot of money, but we didn’t care. We had a simple life that was full of family and friends. We were happy. Or so I thought.”

Brooke keeps running her finger over the back of my hand, tracing the veins and tendons. It’s strangely comforting.

“We talked about starting a family and I’d envisioned us with three or four kids.”

Brooke just watches me, listening to every word, not saying anything.

“So when she told me she was pregnant, I was thrilled.” My grip tightens on my glass of beer. I’d been over the moon. “I went to ultrasound appointments with her, we picked out names, I repainted a room for the nursery, assembled a crib, the whole thing.”

Brooke leans closer, her finger still moving on my hand. I don’t know if she even realizes that she moves further into my space, but it’s comforting not only to have her there, but that she’s coming closer rather than shifting away.

“The pregnancy went well. Everything was… perfect.” I have to clear my throat to continue. “Her water broke late one night and it was like the movies. I grabbed the bag, loaded her up, drove her to the hospital. We got to the delivery room and the baby was already on her way.”

“Her?” Brooke says softly.

I nod. “It was a girl. She was born just two hours after her water broke. Came into the world fast and loud. Yelling her head off.” I smile remembering. Jesus, that moment had been incredible. A fucking miracle. “She was eight pounds, totally healthy. Absolutely perfect.”

Brooke now curls her fingers around my hand, obviously sensing the story is about to shift.

“I thought everything was perfect,” I say, my voice a little scratchy now. “I had my wife and daughter. I couldn’t have been happier. And then thirty minutes later, one of the doctors bursts through the door, wild-eyed. He looks at my wife , then my daughter , and says, “I want a DNA test.”

Brooke sucks in a little breath, but I keep going. I can’t stop now or I won’t finish.

“They’d been having an affair for almost a year. He claimed he was in love with her. One look at her face when he walked in and I knew she felt the same way. We got the DNA test done immediately and… he was the father.”

Brooke’s hand tightens on mine, but she still doesn’t say anything.

“We didn’t even bring the baby home. They went straight to his house. They hired movers to come get her stuff from our—my—house. We filed for divorce that same week. Because it wasn’t contested and we didn’t fight over any assets, it went fast and easy.”

We sit quietly for almost a minute after I finish.

“How long ago was that?” Brooke asks.

“Almost eleven years.”

“Have you ever seen them since?”

I shake my head. “They’re not mine.”

She starts stroking the back of my hand again.

I look up, and she’s watching me. Just looking at her makes my heart rate decrease and I can take another deep breath. I loosen my grip on the glass.

It’s another thirty seconds before she says, “Is that why you got a vasectomy?”

Okay, so we’re just going to dive into all of it. I shouldn’t be surprised, I guess. Brooke is a passionate person. When she’s into something, she’s really into it. School. Sex.

Me.

I feel a warmth in my chest at the idea that I’m something important to her.

“Yeah,” I say simply. “I couldn’t go through something like that again. I didn’t want any accidents and…” This next part won’t sound so great out loud, but it’s the truth. “I didn’t want to put my trust in the women I was sleeping with to handle the birth control. So I handled it. For sure.”

She doesn’t look offended or even surprised. She nods. “I see.”

“Do you want to have kids?” I ask. There’s no reason not to lay it all out there. We’re here to figure out if this can be something real between us.

She nods again. “Yes. I’ve always assumed I’d be a mom someday. I wanted to get through school and start my career first.” She laughs softly. “I mean, I wasn’t even doing the things you need to do to get pregnant, so it wasn’t on my immediate horizon, obviously.”

I smile but I do make note that I can’t give her something she wants.

“So,” I start. “This thing with us then…”

She just lifts a brow.

“Obviously there’s an issue there,” I say.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t give you kids,” I say bluntly.

She lifts a shoulder. “You could have it reversed. Or there’s adoption.”

I just stare at her. She’s so… unbothered. She makes it all seem so easy.

She makes being with her seem so easy.

And a huge part of me is starting to believe that could be true.

She notices something in my face, because she leans in, forearm on the table, her hand flat on mine now.

“Luke, I’m twenty-five. I’m a grown up. I’m in grad school, succeeding in a very demanding program. I’m mature. Intelligent. I know the virgin thing, my inexperience there, probably made me seem really young and innocent, but I’m really not. I know what I can handle. I can make decisions about who I spend time with. I understand things like how vasectomies can impact my future if I fall for a guy who’s had one. You don’t have to protect me here.” She smiles. “I can handle you.”

That’s hot. All of that’s fucking hot. Her confidence. The way she just takes in my story and everything about me and takes it seriously, but also makes it not complicated. And the idea of her handling me… yeah, a huge part of me wants that.

“Okay,” I say. “I hear you.”

Her smile is bigger now. She traces her finger over my hand again. “I’m really, really sorry all of that happened with Marci.”

I blow out a breath. “Well… thanks. I guess.”

“Am I a bad person if I say she’s an idiot for not realizing how amazing you are, though?” Brooke asks.

My eyebrows arch. “Not at all. I’ve frequently thought she was an idiot.”

“If she had been smarter and held on to you, you wouldn’t be here with me right now. You wouldn’t have been with me the other night. Or at the cabin. I can confidently say it’s her loss, my gain.”

I feel a laugh bubble up. “You don’t really know me. You have no idea if I’m amazing.”

Now she laughs. “Seriously? You’re a firefighter . You put your life on the line for other people—strangers—every single time you go to work. You are so great with your friends. When you’re in a moment with another person, you are all in. Completely tuned in to what other people are feeling, what they need.”

I start to respond, but she keeps going.

“I spent three days completely snowed in with you, and I saw a lot that you probably don’t realize.”

That makes me shift on my stool, suddenly a little uncomfortable. The only people who are truly close to me are Wyatt and Jackson. And as much as I love them, I’m not sure how observant they really are. My mom would probably be the only other person who really knows things about me that I don’t let show to the rest of the world.

Brooke continues. “You always make sure that Wyatt and Jackson have whatever actual things they need, but you also make them aware of how they’re speaking to one another and other people. You tell them when they’re doing a great job at something. You give them encouragement, but also hold them accountable. You’re like this fantastic older brother or something. They really look up to you.” She smiles. “And you know it. And you take it seriously. That makes you feel good. I can tell.”

Damn. She’s right on all of that.

“You’re also funny and smart. You’re protective. I feel completely safe and comfortable with you. And…” She leans in. “You’re so damned sexy I can hardly take a deep breath around you. Until you touch me. Then I still feel hot and tingly, but also… calm, somehow. Like I can just sink into the moment and the feelings and enjoy it. I know you’re going to make me feel amazing but I’m totally safe just letting go.”

My entire body heats. Not only because of the reminder of all the ways I’ve touched her, and want to touch her, but because that right there is what I want.

That is what I love more than anything. I want people to feel safe when I’m around. I want to make people feel like everything will be okay.

But to do that for Brooke, to make it so she can fully be herself and bask in pleasure and happiness and being cared for, that I want more than anything.

“Brooke, you are very fucking dangerous,” I tell her, my voice low.

Her laugh is breathless. “Dangerous? Why?”

“Because you make me spill my guts, relive all of that pain, but I come out the other side feeling like a fucking superhero.” I lean closer. “A superhero who wants to spend the next twenty-four hours straight making you insane with pleasure.”

Her pupils dilate and her lips part. I lift my hand and drag my thumb over her lower lip.

“How can I have just told you that fucking story, the lowest point in my life, the darkness that I’ve been dragging around for years, but two minutes later I’m sitting here feeling cocky as hell and so turned on that I want to bend you over this table right now?”

Her breath catches. “I’m glad,” she says softly. “I want to make you feel those things even when there’s darkness.”

“I—”

Whatever I was about to say is interrupted by the waitress arriving with our food.

That’s a relief.

I’m not sure what I was going to say. But it might have been a marriage proposal.

Brooke Wilder has me all twisted up.

Or maybe she has you all straightened out .

I can’t help the thought that immediately follows. I don’t really feel twisted up. I feel completely clear-headed, as a matter of fact.

I really fucking like Brooke. In addition to wanting her more than I’ve ever wanted another woman.

We start on our meals, but I finish my beer after just a couple of bites and notice her margarita is nearly gone.

I look around but our waitress is nowhere. “I’m going to get us refills,” I say, standing and grabbing our glasses.

“Okay. Will you get me an ice water too?” she asks, popping a fry into her mouth.

I want to lean in and lick the salt that lingers on her lip. “Sure.”

I head for the bar, taking the chance to breathe deep.

The bar is busy and I’m behind two women who aren’t sure what kind of shots they want. But I’m good with a few minutes away. This date is doing exactly what I’d intended, I suppose.

We’re getting to know each other.

The way I feel about her isn’t just about sex.

It seems that her feelings aren’t just about her first sexual experiences, either. She’s noticed things about me that she likes and yes, they are things I’m proud of. Things I’m glad she’s noticed and paid attention to.

Fuck, maybe this could work out.

I finally get our drinks refilled and turn back to the table, managing the three glasses. I’ve taken only two steps when I realize that Brooke is not sitting at our table alone.

There are two guys there, one on either side of her, leaning on the table, smiling and talking to her.

Friends from school? They don’t look familiar, so I don’t think they’re hockey players she’d know because of her brother.

I stride to the table and set our drinks down, meeting her gaze. “Hey, everyone.”

She looks relieved to see me.

One of the guys straightens. “Oh, hey, man.”

The other looks at me, but he’s still leaning on the table, close to Brooke.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Just trying to convince Brooke here to come to the next bar with us,” the guy to her left says.

“Do you know each other?” I ask, directing the question at Brooke.

She shakes her head. “They, uh, just came over and introduced themselves.”

Seriously? What the fuck? But of course she got hit on immediately. She’s gorgeous and sexy and I’m sure they came over and said ‘hi’ and she was sweet, and friendly and didn’t tell them to fuck off instantly. Which, to some men, means ‘please get in my personal space and monopolize my time’.

“We’re not interested in going anywhere else,” I say, trying to be cool and hoping they’re able to pick up on subtle ‘get the fuck out of here’ clues.

“That’s fine. We can get her home later.”

Well, I guess subtle is out.

I look the guy directly in the eye. He’s easily Brooke’s age. Maybe even younger. “ I will be getting her home,” I say firmly.

The guy extends his hand. “Sir, I promise you that your daughter will be safe with us.”

Right. I should have expected that.

I take his hand, squeezing hard. “There’s no way in hell she’s going anywhere with you.” I pull a little on his arm, making him lean over the table. “You don’t go up to women in bars when they’re with other people and invite them to leave who they’re with to go somewhere with you. What the fuck are you thinking? She’d leave her dad or her boyfriend or even her boss or whoever she’s with to head out with you somewhere? Use your fucking head.”

I let go of him and look at the other guy. “You never try to separate a woman from who she’s out with, got it?”

He nods, eyes wide.

“And if a woman is alone in a bar and you want to talk to her and get to know her, you stay at that bar. You don’t take women to other places alone. Don’t be a fucking creep.”

I push him out of the way and reclaim my seat. I reach over and put my hand on the back of Brooke’s neck, pulling her close and kissing her. Then I look at the guys. “And don’t be assholes and assume an older guy is a woman’s dad . How about you ask some questions rather than jumping to conclusions?”

The guys look from me to Brooke, then back to me, then to Brooke.

“We just…”

“Sorry, man.”

“And I’m sorry to tell you that smart, gorgeous, mature women like Brooke are out of your league. They need older guys who know how to treat them,” I say, feeling every bit of the cockiness Brooke has stirred in me tonight.

Brooke leans into me, her hand on my leg. Not saying anything. Just looking very, very content. And beautiful. Always so fucking beautiful.

“Right. Fine,” the one guy says. “Sorry.”

They start to turn away, but I say, “Hey, treat the other women you meet tonight the way you want men to treat your sisters and friends and mom, okay? Don’t be assholes.”

They don’t say anything, but they nod.

As soon as they’re gone, Brooke looks up at me. “See? Amazing.”

“You’re just feeling like you won because I kissed you before the end of our date,” I say, removing my hand from her neck and straightening.

“Well, yes, there’s that,” she agrees, reaching for another fry. “But also just feeling really good about my taste in men.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely. You were jealous but you turned that into a teaching moment for them. That was impressive.” She grabs another fry. “And really hot.”

I chuckle, but I’m feeling really good about everything as we finish eating and then head out into the night, hand in hand again.

We walk for a bit, talking about miscellaneous things—how we spent our last birthdays, what I like best about firefighting, what she’s nervous and excited about with her upcoming internship.

When we’re cold, she wants to go to another bar, but I talk her into heading home.

I could spend twenty-four-seven with her, I realize, and tonight did its job.

I want to keep dating Brooke.

There’s something real here.

“So what do you think?” she asks me, stopping on the sidewalk outside her building.

“About what?” I’m thinking I get to kiss her now and that our no sex rule sucks, actually.

“Do we have more than chemistry?”

I move in close and cup her face with one hand. “Yeah, Angel. We do. I like you so fucking much.”

She smiles as if I just told her she’s won a million dollars. “Me too. I know you’ve been hurt. But you can trust me.” She wraps her arms around me. “I’m a healer. I want to help put you back together,” she says softly.

I groan. Fuck. She can do it. I can feel it.

Instead of saying that though, I kiss her. I want it to be sweet. I want it to be emotional and romantic and a promise of more to come.

But about ten seconds in, I’m pressing her against the side of the building. My tongue is tangling with hers, she’s moaning, and I’m unzipping her coat and running my hands up underneath her sweater.

Her warm bare skin is heaven, the sweet sounds she makes into my mouth are like a drug, and I’m very seriously contemplating saying to hell with promises and my friendships and anything but being inside this woman for the rest of the night.

I drag my mouth from hers, along her jaw, to her neck as I cup one bra-encased breast in my hand. “You want to put me back together, and I want to make you come apart,” I tell her gruffly.

Her head falls back against the building. “Luke,” she says breathlessly.

I lift my head and look at her. She’s so fucking gorgeous just turning everything over to me, letting me do whatever I want, wherever I want.

For once, for fucking once , I’m going to stay in control. And show us both how fun and hot that can be.

“I want you to go inside,” I tell her.

Her head comes up quickly. “But?—”

“And,” I say, pressing my finger over her lips. “I want you to get in bed with your vibrator, and I want you to play. But do not let yourself come.” I kiss her neck again, giving her a little nip, before I pull my hands from her body and brace them on the wall on either side of her head. “Then I want you to text me.”

Her eyes are wide, her lips dark pink from my kisses.

God, I’m never getting over her.

“Okay?” I ask.

She nods. “Okay.”

“And when you text I want you to ask me, ‘Can I come now?’”

She sucks in a sharp breath. “Oh, my god,” she murmurs.

I give her what I know is a wicked grin.

“So we’re doing this,” she says. “All of this?”

“Yeah, Angel, we’re doing this.” I lift my hand and drag my thumb over her lips. “And you can not come until I say yes in my text, understand?”

She nods. “Yes.”

“And if you’re my very good girl about this,” I add. “I promise that you will be very glad next time we’re all together.”

I’m falling in love with this girl and I’m going to show her in every single way.

She swallows hard. “I’ll be good.”

“I know you will, Angel.” I kiss her again, slow and deep. Then I step back. “Go inside.”

She stares at me for a few seconds, then she pushes off the wall and walks quickly to the front door. I watch her through the little window next to the door.

She runs to the elevator and I chuckle, even as my cock presses against my zipper insistently.

I get in the Uber, still waiting behind me. At this point, I don’t care who has seen what or what they think.

I give him my address and head directly home.

My phone buzzes before I’m even half-way there.

Can I come now?

Jesus. This was a horrible, wonderful idea.

I lean my head back and imagine how she looks. On her bed, legs spread, maybe she didn’t even take her sweater off. She’s just bare from the waist down. Vibrator and fingers between her legs.

Yes, Angel, you can come now.

There’s at least a two-minute delay. I recall how she looks and sounds when she comes.

Finally my phone buzzes.

Thank you.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

I’ll talk to you soon. Sweet dreams, Angel.

Goodnight, Luke.

Yep. This date was a fantastic idea.