Rock My Christmas (FlameSmith in Love Book 1) (15 page)

BOOK: Rock My Christmas (FlameSmith in Love Book 1)
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Chapter Twenty-Two

 

 

The ceiling stubbornly refused to disclose its secrets of life, so Kendel stopped staring at it and flung aside her blanket. Sleeping on John’s couch had begun causing her back pain. All the more reason to increase her efforts to find a new job.

Here she sat, pulling her laptop onto her knees to seek another assistant’s job rather than to place resumes for business positions. The idea of donning a suit every day and going to an office put knots in her stomach.

“It’s just too soon after graduation. That’s all,” she whispered.

She glanced at her phone sitting at the end table’s corner. On the airplane to Louisiana, she’d turned it off. She hadn’t mustered the courage to turn it back on. Four days, her phone sat there. She probably had twenty attempts from Burn to contact her. She dreaded the real possibility that he’d made none. The idea that he’d let her go without a second thought kept her phone off.

Against her better judgment, she looked to see if Marty had started looking for a replacement PA. She found no new postings for FlameSmith positions. Why did that reassure her?

Her eyes wandered the postings but didn’t read them. She could only imagine Burn. In his underwear while rummaging through the fridge for something completely inappropriate for breakfast. Rearranging lions on his bedroom shelves. Fingering gel into his hair as he readied to go partying with his band.

Disgusted, she snapped closed the lid of her computer and went to the kitchen for a glass of wine. Tomorrow was New Year’s Eve. Would they party in Los Angeles or fly to New York? She didn’t remember seeing a performance scheduled. Besides, V had flown to England, and Dan had given Marty off through the holiday.

“Aargh!” She plunked a bottle of rose moscato onto the kitchen counter. Glancing over her shoulder, she checked to make sure she hadn’t disturbed John.

She poured into a juice glass and mentally kicked her rear. She’d left Burn. She wasn’t supposed to pine for him. Yet he haunted nearly every waking minute.

“We only had a week,” she whispered. How in love with him could she be?

“You still beating yourself up over that guy?” John asked, shuffling past her laptop on his way to her. He rubbed his eyes.

“I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t. I’m not used to getting more than six hours of sleep at a stretch. Pour me some of that, would you?”

She added wine to another juice cup and placed it on the table where he settled onto a chair with a grunt. “You sound old.”

“I feel old. I’ll be thirty in a few months, but I feel fifty.” He scratched both hands over his scalp, leaving his auburn waves sticking out at every angle.

She flipped on the bulb over the stove and joined him at the table.

“At least you’re not crying anymore.” He put the glass to his lips and downed a third in a single swallow. “I couldn’t deal, Kendel. Don’t do that to me again.”

She shrugged. “No promises.”

“Why are you having such a hard time with this? You left
him
, right?”

“Because he’d be perfect for me except that he’s famous as can be and on the move all the time. Sometimes he lives in Los Angeles. Sometimes he lives in London. You know I want a normal life with a normal guy.”

“Yeah.” Sighing, he swirled the wine in his glass. “I figured you’d outgrow that little girl fantasy.”

Kendel punched his shoulder, which he rubbed with a laugh. She said, “It’s not a fantasy. What’s wrong with knowing what I want?”

“Nothing as long as what you want is realistic.”

“How is a quiet life not realistic?”

He shrugged. “For most people, it is. Not for us. We’re gypsies. We can’t escape our restless blood.”

“We’re not gypsies. We’ve got red hair,” she said, tugging on a short clump at his forehead.

He swatted at her. “Grandpa Joe. He was born into a Romanian gypsy family living in England. You can claim you want to build your life on a stone, but you won’t be happy. It’ll drive you crazy. You’ll ignore the call of freedom until you can’t and then you’ll become one of those women who abandons her husband and children.”

She punched him harder.

“Hey!”

“I would never! I’m the most responsible person I know.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Grandpa Joe. She’d always assumed she’d inherited this restlessness from her father. If her mother’s father was gypsy, it explained a lot. It explained everything.

John offered a nod. “Okay, I’ll give you that. All I’m saying is you better figure out what you
need
as opposed to what you want before you go making yourself and whatever poor schmuck you marry miserable. If I were you, I’d take a real close look at why you went and took that job in California instead of starting your business career. I’m just saying.”

He studied her a long few seconds while tracing a thick, callused finger around the rim of his glass. “When are you going to tell me about this guy?”

“Maybe never.” Arching her eyebrows, she cut her gaze away and took a sip of wine. “I tell you what. How about I tell you about him when you tell me about your girlfriend?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Why not? Afraid your life will make someone as miserable as dad’s made mom?”

He squinted at her then smiled and shook his head. “Mom was never miserable. If she had been, do you think she’d still be married to him and traveling in their RV without us as a reason to stay together? No, Kendel. Nobody was miserable. Not even you until you got a crush on your third grade teacher and we had to move halfway through the school year.”

His words struck her like a blow. How had she forgotten that?

He had another large swallow. “Don’t look so shocked. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You didn’t talk to dad for
six months
. That was impressive. I’ll give you that. But it’s like when you get an idea, you latch onto it so hard, and nobody can say or do anything to change your mind. I don’t know when you decided you wanted a so-called normal life, but you’re wrong. I’m not afraid to say it.”

Her mind reeled. She remembered her handsome teacher and the day her dad came home and said he’d gotten a good job in Indianapolis. Looking back, she was amazed she hadn’t had a stroke from her rage.

John finished his wine and set his glass in the sink. “I’m going to read in bed and see if I can’t get a couple more hours of sleep before dawn. Stay up as late as you want.”

Numb, she sat and stared at her wine. A normal life? What an asinine idea. She’d attended elementary school when she’d concocted it. No wonder her brother had called it a little girl fantasy.

Had her mother shared their father’s need to keep moving? Had that been one of the reasons she’d married him? She could only shake her head. She’d seen her mom in the wrong light. What else had she gotten wrong?

“Burn,” she whispered.

She’d hated college because it required her to stay put. Those last two years had tortured her. She dreamt every night of walking moors, riding trains, and visiting countries where she couldn’t understand a word said. Every morning, she’d forced the yearning into submission and worked toward the fantasy of a frustrated eight-year-old who no longer existed.

“I’m stupid.”

So much wasted time. John was right. Maybe at one time she had wanted the stability of one job, one house, one city. Now that she’d become a woman and experienced a tiny measure of life, she couldn’t ignore her needs.

She had thrilled in boarding that flight to Los Angeles. Her blood had
sung
when she ordered her passport. She still tasted the awe of seeing that Korean stamp in it. Going overseas had made her nervous, but not scared. It had been a dream come to life.

Now she faced the truth she had denied. The very idea of a normal life terrified her. She didn’t know how to do normal. Learning how to get around Hollywood without a car, getting what she needed to do her job in Korea, and being close to people she’d grown to love while surrounded by strangers had felt like home. That was her normal.

“Burn.”

She glanced at the microwave’s clock and calculated the time in Los Angeles. It was late, but not in terms of the band’s lifestyle. If they’d gone out, he’d be headed to the condo or getting ready for bed. This could be the best time to call.

Leaving her wine in the kitchen, she went to her phone and hit the power button, praying Burn hadn’t brought home a plaything from whatever party he’d attended. Seconds went by and nothing happened. She pressed and held it. Nothing.

Her phone had died.

 

*    *    *

 

“You look like shit, but at least you smell better,” said Dan at the kitchen counter, pouring a cup of coffee.

“Good morning to you, too.” Burn accepted a cup and leaned on the counter.

His friend barked a laugh. “Now you sound like Kendel.”

“Sssh.” He pressed two fingers to his aching temple.

“Your lion collection is spilling out, “Dan said, thrusting his chin toward the pink lion on the island.

“It’s Kendel’s. I gave it to her for Christmas.”

Cup in hand, his flat mate turned and picked up a shipping tube from beside his FedEx box. “What is this, anyway?”

Burn held out a hand, took it, and tried to focus his vision enough to read the label. It came from Notre Dame. “My guess is it’s her MBA degree.”

“We can’t keep it. Where’s her family?”

He shook his head. “They’re scattered. It seems nobody keeps a home.”

“Have you heard from her at all?”

“Nary a peep.”

Dan chuckled. “Nary a peep?”

“I haven’t heard shite. Is that better?”

“Quite. Did she ever mention friends? Colleagues from school?”

“No. She talked of girls she studied with, but not by name. Wait. She told me her eldest brother keeps a house. He works on one of those oil drills in the Gulf of Mexico.”

His friend straightened. “That’s a good start. Do we know where?”

“Damn this hangover. I can’t think straight.” He blew on his coffee then slurped a gulp.

“Do you at least have a name?” Dan went to a laptop on the kitchen’s main counter and closed a news stream then opened a search screen called White Pages.

“A name.” He tapped the side of his head then winced. His flat mate had brained him good yesterday. He wouldn’t complain, though. He’d deserved it. “A name. John. Shit, I can’t believe I remembered it.”

“John Price. Bloody great. Could he have a more common name?”

“Sure. He could be John Jones.”

“Blatant. Okay, so it makes sense that he lives along the coast. Bad news. The coast is huge.” He typed in his filter. “A hundred twelve! No fucking way!”

“Hold on. She said he’s five yours her senior.”

“How old is she?”

“Twenty-four. Based on her passport, anyway.” Hope sparked to life, but huddled in fear. What if they found her? He refused to simply forward the tube and the book to her. He wanted to hand them to her in person. Needed to see her. Longed for a chance to change her mind. “She probably won’t want me to go to her.”

“Worry about that when we find her. Okay, this is better, but still too many. Fourteen between the ages of twenty-eight and thirty. It would help if we could narrow the search down to a single state.”

“Bad luck. If she told me, my crap brain isn’t giving over that detail. I wish we had a way to learn if any of these John Prices have a sister named Kendel.”

“There isn’t, but I have an idea.” His flat mate pulled a cell phone from a pocket in his pajama bottoms. “Do you remember when Jay hired a private detective to follow Celeste when he suspected her of cheating and it turned out she’d gotten a job? I wonder if he still has that detective’s number.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

 

“Happy New Year,” Kendel greeted, smiling at her brother as he shuffled into the living room from his bedroom.

“Hey. Happy New Year.” He collapsed into an armchair and scrubbed a hand over his scruffy face. It didn’t look anywhere as good on him as it did on Burn. “You should’ve come to the bar last night. It was a blast. They had a live band and everything.”

She grinned. After witnessing FlameSmith live in concert from backstage, she couldn’t stir any regret for missing the performance of a local band. She reset her email password on her new phone then huffed when it gave her another error message. Her smile melted. “There’s something wrong with my email.”

“How’s your new phone working out?”

“It’s practically useless.” She set it on the end table.” The tech at the phone store yesterday said my old phone had gotten wet. He couldn’t transfer any of my contacts or settings.”

John studied her hard.

“What?” she asked.

“Have you made any decisions?”

She sighed. “Am I allowed no pride?”

“Nope.” A slow smile curved his lips.

“Fine. You’re right. Are you happy?”

“Maybe. What are you going to do?”

Biting her lip, she pressed a hand to her sore heart. “I don’t know. I tried to send him an email on my laptop last night. It didn’t confirm delivery, and when I tried to check my sent box, it kicked me out. I need to call email support. I kinda hope it didn’t go through. I said way too much. He hasn’t replied, so I’m hopeful.”

“Who is—”

A knock sounded on the front door. John heaved out of the chair on a comical groan and disappeared around the wall that separated the living room from the entryway. She picked up her phone to call the email helpline, but her brother came around the wall in a daze.

Alarmed, she stood. Was it bad news? Had Brice crashed a jet? Was Mom in the hospital?

“Burn Shatterly? Really, Kendel? Your heartbreaker is Burn Shatterly?”

“Oh, God.” She sent a frantic glance at the wall break and smoothed a hand over her hair. “He’s here?”

John tilted his head with a sarcastic smirk and waggled his fingers toward the entryway.

Burn came slowly around the corner, and her heart leapt free of her chest and slammed into his. His height had his hair nearly brushing the ceiling. He removed sunglasses and hooked them in an unzipped breast pocket of his black leather jacket. His faded blue jeans had fraying at places along the inseam and bunched atop heavy-looking black biker boots. He was heaven to her eyes, and her insides went soft.

He glanced at her brother. “She didn’t tell you, I presume.”

“Kendel doesn’t tell me jack.” John narrowed his eyes at her. “Do you see this guy? You said you didn’t want
me
to hurt him? He’d have murdered me.”

Burn sent her a questioning gaze, his eyebrows quirking once.

“John,” she said. “Do you think…?”

Her brother offered a dismissive wave. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going to take a shower. I mean, geez,” he muttered on his way to the bathroom. “My little sister’s hanging out with Flame-Smith, and I’m the last to know. Thanks. Thanks a lot.”

The bathroom door shut hard.

She stared at Burn a long, awkward moment with words tripping each other in her head and none of them landing on her tongue. Then they spoke at exactly the same moment, and she clamped her mouth closed.

“Sorry.” He stepped forward and handed her a shipping tube. “I brought this. It arrived a few days ago.”

Glancing at the label, she said, “Thanks. I didn’t think about this. I figured it would come later, and I…well… I didn’t know where I’d be so I haven’t called the school.”

“Right. Of course. You left this,” he said, pulling her pink lion from his jacket pocket.

She smiled, accepting it. “Thanks. I didn’t mean to.”

“Do you know why I collect lions?” He scraped the toe of his boot across the carpet.

She shook her head.

“Because they represent courage. It’s something I always wanted but never had.”

Her heart went out to him. “You’re one of the bravest people I know, Burn. Alexandria hurt you, but you had the courage to try again with Wendy and then with me. You travel the world without a second thought, and you get up in front of thousands of people and perform.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time then reached back under his jacket and withdrew a thick book. “I got you this while we visited Korea. It doesn’t mean anything, really. I’d like you to have it.”

She tossed the tube onto the couch and accepted the book with both hands. Reverently, she ran fingertips across the title and swallowed. “It means a lot, actually. It means you were thinking of me. I love it.”

“I’m glad. I wasn’t sure how you’d take me coming here. You didn’t answer any of my calls or texts.”

“I didn’t get them. My phone died. But I sent you an email last night. I’m not sure if it was delivered. My email’s been glitchy.” Her heart pounded.

“You did? I know there’s been a problem. I sent you a few emails that bounced back to me.” He took out his phone and began working his fingertip across the screen. “I didn’t check since yesterday. I was a bit busy trying to figure out which John Price was your brother, and booking a flight, and arguing with our security manager who, by the way, wouldn’t let me come alone and is sitting outside in our rental as we speak.”

Her cheeks flamed. “Please don’t read it. I’m so embarrassed.”

He went still and quiet, staring at his screen. Then he shot her a questioning stare that conveyed his hope and hesitation as his mouth wavered between a hinting smile and not. “Is this true?”

Her stomach somersaulted. “I was so wrong. I didn’t know— I thought— Damn it. I really need to be eloquent right now, and I’m royally botching this.”

In two strides, he closed the distance. He pulled her up against him and cupped her face. “I only need to hear one word from you. Tell me yes, Kendel. Tell me I have a chance to win you back.”

Overwhelmed by relieved joy, she skimmed her fingers along his dark scruff. “Burn, I’m such an idiot. I may have walked away, but I didn’t stop loving you for a second. I missed you so much it was like I’d had a piece of me amputated. You don’t need to win me back. You never lost me. Yes.”

Growling, he bent until his lips met hers. She wanted to taste him. To have him inside her at least in some way. Touching her tongue to his lips, she urged him to open. Their tongues came together in a impassioned frenzy that had her breathing hard and her heart racing.

He tasted good. Felt so good. She couldn’t get enough.

Sending her hand under his black T-shirt, she caressed upward over the ridges of his abdomen until her fingers found the beat of his heart. She pressed her palm there, where her heart crawled inside and nestled next to his.

 

*    *    *

 

Burn had never needed anyone’s touch, but he needed Kendel’s. Her hand upon his chest reassured him more, somehow, than even her kiss.

Already he hardened, readying to claim her. Nobody had ever excited him or shown him such pleasure as Kendel. But as much as he wanted to strip her bare and bend her over the sofa, he had to respect that they stood in her brother’s house.

Breaking the kiss, he drew a ragged breath into his raging body. “God, woman. You drive me crazy.”

Her large eyes went kind, and a small smile graced her kiss-swollen lips as she skimmed her fingertips across his chest. “I think we owe John a big thank you. He helped me remember why I’d thought I wanted an ideal that wasn’t right for me. He’s right. I’m so stubborn. I couldn’t admit that everything I want or need I have in you.”

Holding his breath, he grasped her hand through his shirt and pressed it to his elated heart. “There’s something you need to know.”

She gazed at him, her features open and sweet.

Resting his forehead to hers, he said, “I love you, Kendel. I’ve loved you since Korea. Maybe before. I’m not sure exactly when it happened. I was a fool not to say so.”

Tears gathered at her lids as her teeth flashed in a brilliant smile. “Really? I was never going to ask you to say those words. Not after what you’d been through. I figured I could love enough for both of us.”

“No need, gorgeous. I’m in this with you. All the way. You see,
you’re
my soul mate.
You’re
the one who makes me glad Alexandria and Wendy had freed me. I can’t live without you. If your email is correct, and you do want me
and
my life, then I refuse to go another day without you by my side.”

She released a single sob through her smile, and he kissed away a tear that rolled down her cheek. He pecked a line of kisses to her ear and whispered, “Come home, Kendel. You complete me.”

She snuggled against him. “Under two conditions.”

“Anything.”

“I’m allowed to say trust me.”

“Absolutely. You and my mum. Only two women allowed to say that to me.”

“And I stay in
your
room with you and your lions. No secrets. No hiding.”

His heart soared. Straightening, he searched her earnest gaze and fell more in love with her than ever. “No secrets. No hiding. And I promise you’ll always feel like you have a home.”

“Burn, as long as I’m with you, no matter where we are or for how long, I’ll be home. I’m home right now in your arms.”

He was so in love with her he felt like he went to pieces for the intensity. “I think we should get a room. I can’t wait to be inside you and show you I mean every word I’ve said.”

“As wonderful as that sounds, I think I’d rather return to L.A. right away. I’ve wasted so much time chasing a dream that would’ve made my unhappy. I’d like to get started living the life I was meant for. The life that actually thrills me every day. The life I’ll make with you.”

He chuckled. He couldn’t fault her, though she would make him wait. Taking a deep breath, he smiled. “Then we’ll go to L.A. and start this first day of this New Year together. This first day of the rest of our lives.”

Burn kissed her, and in his embrace, promised Kendel a forever of adventure in the security of his unyielding love.

 

THE END

 

BOOK: Rock My Christmas (FlameSmith in Love Book 1)
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