Burning for You (22 page)

“Sure, no problem. When?”

“Right now,” Joe told him. “I need you right now.”

*  *  *

An hour later, Taylor remained on the bench talking to Owen. She couldn’t fathom everything he’d told her. Upon their breakup, he’d gone ballistic. “The restraining order was the wake-up call,” he’d told her. “I lost it. But eventually I had to admit I was stalking you.”

“You didn’t attend the hearing. That’s why the judge granted it.”

“I refused to accept I was at fault. I blamed you. Hell, I blamed everyone for my problems and actions. Then one day I woke up drunk off my ass and wanted to kill myself. And I got help. Took two weeks and checked into a clinic. It saved my life.”

The medicine had made a difference, he’d told her. He’d also stopped drinking, which hadn’t been easy. He’d changed jobs, giving himself a fresh start. Two years later, he’d begun really applying the Twelve Steps. “I want to marry Emily,” he told her. “I love her. She knows my past, but she didn’t live through it. She accepts me for me. She makes me happy. But I couldn’t move on until I’d apologized to you. I did a number on you, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you again. I really had to convince your mom to give me your number.”

“She probably should have mentioned it.”

“I asked her not to; she agreed it was our business. Your mom is the type that gives someone a second chance.”

“Yes, that she does,” Taylor said. She’d talk with her misguided mother later. However, she understood her mother’s reasoning. Her mom wanted Taylor to have peace, and now, after talking to Owen, an odd peace had settled over her. She’d never have to look behind her again. Owen had moved on. She had too. Her future was the man in the photograph—the man who had just walked in wearing turnout pants, suspenders, a blue T-shirt, and a layer of soot. A murmur raced through the crowd.

She rose to her feet, shocked. “Joe?”

“Taylor?” He strode over. Glared angrily at Owen, who’d risen shakily to his feet. She put her hand out, stopping Joe before he reached out and throttled her ex. “Marci called me.”

Marci. Another meddler. Taylor wrapped her fingers around his arm, smelled the smoke that clung to him. He’d been fighting a fire. “I’m okay.”

Taylor’s mom joined the queue. Thrust out her hand. “You must be Joe. I’m Taylor’s mom Deidre.”

“Taylor, thank you for speaking with me.” Owen tried to ease away.

“Don’t move,” Joe commanded. Owen froze.

“Owen came to apologize,” Taylor told him. “He’s doing Twelve Steps. It seems my mom gave him my number.”

“And did you accept his apology?”

“I did. He’s going to marry that girl you saw at Presley’s.”

Joe stared down Owen until the smaller man flinched and withered. “If you’re done, get out. Don’t ever bother Taylor again.”

“Got it.” As Owen backtracked, Taylor knew she’d never see him again. Her professor approached. “Is there a problem?”

“No, none,” Taylor inserted quickly. Her hand still on Joe, she could feel the tension radiating off him in waves.

“You’re the guy in the photographs.” Oblivious, he stuck his hand out. “I’ve worked with Taylor for a year now and this is the best work I’ve ever seen her produce. I told her to capture your humanity. Your soul. She did just that. In fact, Taylor, I want to be the first to congratulate you. You’ve won.”

“Won?”

“Yes. We’ll announce it from the podium in five minutes, so don’t go anywhere, but the thousand-dollar cash prize is yours. I couldn’t be more pleased. I had to really push Taylor to take these photos, but you were the perfect subject,” he told Joe. “So raw and emotional. Perfect.”

He moved away. Joe looked at Taylor. Then he trailed his gaze and saw the photographs on the far wall.

Freeing himself, boots that left a trail of grit walked over to where Taylor’s work hung. The crowd parted like the Red Sea so the firefighter could see his photos.

She followed him. Drew abreast. “Do you want to explain this?” he bit out.

“I didn’t know my professor was going to submit them or hang them up. I found out Wednesday afternoon.”

“So I’m your project. Did you ever plan on telling me?” The words were quiet, deadly, and meant for her ears only.

“Yes. Tomorrow.”

He said nothing for the longest minute of her life. Then, the gallery director tapped his champagne flute and everyone grew quiet. “Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of tonight’s juried prize and the cash prize of a thousand dollars goes to Taylor Krebs for her work ‘Firefighter Exposé.’”

Around Taylor applause erupted. But Joe stood there, saying nothing. She wanted to drop down through the floor.

“Parker’s covering. He needs to get home. I have to get back. Glad I could help you win some money.”

“Joe,” she protested in vain, for he strode out without another word, the turnout pants making a swishing noise, grit falling in his wake.

“Taylor, come on up,” the director called, all smiles. She walked on autopilot, took the check that weeks ago would have meant so much. Now victory seemed hollow. She smiled for the requisite photos. Accepted endless congratulations.

Inside her heart was breaking.

“It’ll be fine.” Her mother patted her on the arm after Taylor finished her winner’s duties.

Inside Taylor’s stomach felt like lead. “You don’t understand. He’s a proud man. He never wanted me to expose him publically like this. I figured what he wouldn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, and I’d tell him after the fact. I screwed this all up. I made a huge mistake. I’ve ruined everything.”

“He’ll get over it,” her mother said with complete confidence.

Taylor whirled on her. “How do you know?”

“Because he loves you. Why else would he be here, ready to defend you?”

Taylor blinked. Joe had called Parker. Left the firehouse in the midst of his shift. For her. Who knew what that had cost him?

“I have to go after him.”

“Taylor, there you are,” her professor called. “I want you to meet someone,”

“You have to finish here. There’s nothing you can do until you see him again.”

“He’s not going to want to see me again.” That Taylor knew for certain. “I have to do something.” She reached into her wristlet, withdrew her phone, and stepped into a corner. She dialed a number.

Susie picked up on the first ring. “Hey. What’s up?”

“I really screwed up.” Taylor quickly filled her in.

But instead of being upset, Susie laughed. “I wish I could have seen his face. About time he gets over his fear of people knowing the real Joe.”

“This is serious,” Taylor hissed, wishing she could shout her frustration. Susie wasn’t helping.

Susie got herself under control. “Oh Taylor, it is serious. We’ve all been waiting for Joe to meet his match, and he finally has in you. You called me for advice, didn’t you? Not just to confess?”

Taylor moved deeper into the alcove. Returned to the bench. “I love him,” she admitted. “So yes. Anything. I don’t want to lose him.”

“Thought so,” Susie seemed pleased. “Now here’s exactly what you’re going to do.”

The rest of Joe’s shift had been relatively quiet, or at least nothing major, which was good because he’d been on a tear the rest of the night.

He’d been an idiot. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted her. He’d never felt so betrayed—this was why he’d always kept women at a distance. Yet he’d let Taylor in, and she’d used him. All those eyes on his photographs. On him—all of them staring at what he chose to keep hidden from the world.

So intent on those thoughts, he almost missed seeing her car parked in the spot next to his. A quick glance told him she wasn’t in it. He entered his building, where he found her sitting with her knees up to her chest on the stairs outside his apartment. “How long have you been there?”

“About ten minutes. Susie told me when you’d be home.”

Damn his sister. He looked at Taylor and waited for the rage to come. But it didn’t, he wanted to pull her close and kiss her breathless. Instead he schooled his expression and said, “I’m leaving again, you should go.”

She stood and blocked his path. “I know I am the last person you want to see, and I swore I would never act like Owen, who literally stalked me. But you and I made a promise to be honest with each other, so that’s what I am going to do.”

“Honesty would have been telling me my photographs were hanging in a public art gallery. You won money by exposing me.”

“Yes, I did, and I’m sorry. I thought only my professor was going to see the pictures. Then when I got to my meeting, he told me they were already entered in the show and at that point there was nothing I could do. You were out of town. I figured I’d tell you later. My mistake. My misstep and one I’ll live with for the rest of my days. But I’m proud of my work. I’m proud of you.”

He stared at her, his expression unreadable. “We have nothing more to say to each other.”

She stomped her foot, a childish gesture that she regretted immediately. But how to get through to him? “Before last night, you were falling in love with me.”

“What does it matter if I was, I don’t feel anything anymore.” Joe lied. He knew it. So did she.

“Like hell. Stop being so damn stubborn. You’re just like me. A stubborn fool. Well, guess what, I love you. And I didn’t hang you on a wall because I’m using you. We can take the money and donate it for all I care.” She winced, but jutted her chin forward. “Seriously. I’m proud of who you are, and of the man you’ve become. Damn, I don’t believe I’m even going to say this, but if Owen could figure out that he was bipolar and he needed to help himself, then maybe the great Joe Marino could, just once, figure out how to love himself. I love you, and it would be a shame for you to throw us away because you’re still feeling guilty for a mistake you made when you were twelve.”

Her chest heaved. She took a disk from the purse on her shoulder and thrust it at him. “See yourself as I see you. See that you deserve to be loved, and stop being a stupid martyr. We’re all tired of it.” She gasped for breath.

His fingers dangled the disk. Pride and stubbornness. His worst flaws. His voice almost didn’t work, and when it did, he simply said, “You through?”

“Yes.” He’d hurt her, and it didn’t make him feel better. Actually, he felt lower than low. Head high, she began to walk past him. “I will see you tomorrow. Let’s just get through this last shoot, and you and I can go our separate ways if that’s what you want.” With that parting shot, she strode off.

Joe stood there, the disk dangling in his fingers. He resisted the urge to crush the case. Her words replayed in his head as the earlier anger he felt returned.

He didn’t have a martyr complex.

The door across the hall creaked open, and his sister Elaina poked her head out.

“Did you hear all that?” he asked.

“Hard not to,” she replied, the door creaking open further. “You sure she’s not Italian? She sure put you in your place.”

“You agree with her?”

Elaina shrugged. “You are pretty damn stubborn. It gets annoying sometimes. We’re all adults now. No need be the big brother all the time. … And she loves you.” Elaina shook her head. “Never believed that would happen, and you’d be foolish to throw that away because clearly you love her if you went to save her last night.”

“And everyone already knows about that?”

She nodded. “News in this family travels fast. I’m sure Nana knows by now too.”

And Nana would want to smack him for his bad behavior. Joe threw his hands up. “So you think I should go after her?”

Elaina moved her long braid to the opposite shoulder. “I’m not a love guru. She said she’d see you tomorrow.”

“We were supposed to spend today together. The family photos are tomorrow.”

“So maybe that’s what you meant. Well, you’ll see her then.”

The main door opened downstairs. Joe’s heart jumped. Maybe she’d returned. But as a familiar figure appeared on the landing, Joe realized he’d been mistaken.

“Lieutenant,” Reid said, edging a bit toward the wall. “Long time no see. Thought you’d be at the gym by now.”

Joe gazed at his sister, who arched her eyebrows in silent challenge as she ushered Reid inside and out of sight. “We’re spending the day at the Botanical Garden. You are officially on your own. And if you do anything to Reid, you deal with me. I like him. A lot. And he feels the same. Please do not screw anything else up.”

With that, she shut her apartment door in Joe’s face.

Joe stood on the landing, his entire world completely upside down. His sister was dating Reid. How long had that been going on? How long had they kept it from him?

But even that revelation didn’t undo the bombshells Taylor had leveled on him. She’d shredded him to the core. Hurt his ego. Compared him to Owen.

That had been a low blow.

He inserted his key, dealt with Brutus who wanted his daily kibble. She’d also said she loved him. Thrown her declaration at his face. He probably deserved that.

He sat at his kitchen table, let the events of the past twenty-four hours wash over him.

She loved him. Really loved him. He took the disk, loaded it into his laptop, and found the images she’d taken of him. He saw the entire applied photography project, not just the five that had hung on the wall.

She’d captured him, peeling back layers to peer into his soul. She really saw him, he realized. She loved him, burns and guilt be damned.

And as he realized she’d been right all along, and that he’d been a worthless jerk, Joe let the floodgates open.

For the first time since he’d seen the burns all over his sister’s arms and legs, felt the pain of his own seared skin as he carried her through the flames, he cried.

He cried until he’d worn himself out, until Brutus was in his face howling with worry, until he’d purged himself of the remorse that he’d carried long after everyone else had shed their own.

He loved Taylor. She was different, and he was worthy of her love.

He stood, patted Brutus to let him know it was okay, then did what he did best. He was a man who never shied away from a challenge.

So he got to work.

*  *  *