Fire and Romance Read online

  Fire and Romance

  by

  Melanie Shawn

  Melanie Shawn © 2017

  Google Play Edition

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this book. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission in writing from Melanie Shawn. Exceptions are limited to reviewers who may use brief quotations in connection with reviews. No part of this book can be transmitted, scanned, reproduced, or distributed in any written or electronic form without written permission from Melanie Shawn.

  This book is a work of fiction. Places, names, characters and events are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Disclaimer: The material in this book is for mature audiences only and contains graphic content. It is intended only for those aged 18 and older.

  Cover Design by Wildcat Dezigns

  Copyedit by Deanna McDonald

  Book Design by BB eBooks

  Published by Red Hot Reads Publishing

  Rev. 1.0

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Fire and Temptation

  Excerpt New Series: Whisper Lake Romance

  Other Titles by Melanie Shawn

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  ‡

  TWO YEARS EARLIER

  Sunset Canyon, CA

  “Have you seen Sydney Prince?!”

  Marco Reyes inhaled slowly through his nose as a large hand fell on his shoulder and he was asked the same question that had been posed to him at least six times since he’d arrived at his high school reunion fifteen minutes ago.

  He told Rich Leon the same thing that he’d told everyone else. “Nope.”

  “Oh man, you’re not gonna believe it when you see her.” His friend’s grip tightened on his shoulder as he emphasized, “She’s so hot now.”

  She was always hot.

  He’d never understood how Sydney had been invisible to the student body of Crestview Academy. He’d chalked it up to the large shadow cast by her older sister, Devon. Devon was two years ahead of them in school, and she was outgoing, flirtatious, and drop-dead gorgeous.

  Sydney was different, but no less remarkable. She was beautiful in the classic girl-next-door way. Her appeal was much more understated but also much more potent, at least to Marco. Devon Prince was a blazing inferno that made him want to avoid the heat, Sydney was a warm fire on a cold night. She drew him in and he never wanted to leave.

  Richie was straining his neck as he scanned the ballroom. “She was just here. Where the hell did she go?”

  Marco figured that she’d probably taken off. Sydney was never comfortable as the center of attention. And if the few minutes he’d been here were any indication, she was the belle of the ball tonight. And it was quite a ball.

  The reunion was being held at the five-star resort Hotel Kavanagh that sat on the edge of a cliff and overlooked the Pacific Ocean. It boasted a world-renowned golf course and was frequented by celebrities, athletes, and politicians. The last time Marco had been here was in high school to collect his final paycheck.

  During his time here he’d worked several high school reunions, so to see “Crestview Academy Ten Year Reunion” projected onto the far wall was like he was stepping back in time. Especially since the ballroom was laid out the same way as when he’d been a server. From the dozen round, white-linen-covered tables to the elaborate floral centerpieces with floating candles. The only thing that made tonight different from ones that he’d served at was the montage of pictures hung in the far corner and, of course, the faces of the attendees. The attire was also the same. Just like when he’d worked here, everyone was dressed to the nines, some were even in black tie. Marco didn’t even have a tie. He was wearing a dark gray button-up shirt and black slacks. The only reason he even owned clothes that nice was because of a funeral he attended a few years back.

  He recognized some of the faces, but not all. Either because they changed drastically over a decade or because they were significant others and dates of his classmates.

  He didn’t have a plus one because up until an hour ago, he hadn’t planned on coming at all. The only reason he was here was because of his mother. Or his grandfather, depending on how you looked at it. A few days ago, his grandfather had been rushed to the hospital with pneumonia and so Marco made the trip home. His grandfather was fine but somewhere in there he’d let his mom talk him into coming tonight.

  Alone.

  “Damn, where is she?” Beside him, Richie continued his search before turning his attention back to Marco. “Seriously, you’re not gonna believe it when you see her.”

  Marco was fairly certain he would. He suspected that this was going to be a classic She’s All That situation, where the hot girl who wore baggy clothes and glasses puts on a dress and pops in some contacts and everyone is shocked at her beauty.

  Come to think of it, Sydney had worn glasses when she read. The glasses were adorable and accented her large, brown eyes that had a cinnamon center and dark chocolate rim. If anything, they added to her appeal.

  Sydney had also always worn clothes that disguised her figure. Marco had surmised that she had curves, but it wasn’t until a fateful night, senior year, when they’d ended up slow dancing on the rooftop of the hospital, of all places, and he’d felt them pressed against him that he’d known exactly how amazing they were. He’d never forget the moment his hands rested on her hips and she swayed against him. He’d popped a boner so hard he could have practically knocked her over with it.

  Richie lifted his chin motioning toward Marco. “You were friends, right?”

  Friends.

  Marco nodded.

  Yep. That’s what they’d been. Just friends. Sydney was the first girl to friend-zone him. From the moment they’d been assigned as lab partners in sixth grade until their graduation from high school, every time anyone would ask about the two of them, she’d act like the concept of anything going on between them was insane. Ludicrous. Completely out of the realm of rational possibility.

  “Do you guys still talk?”

  “No.”

  The last time he’d seen or talked to her had been at graduation.

  After that, she’d left to work in the Peace Corps. They hadn’t kept in touch while she was abroad and by the time he knew she was stateside again, her Facebook profile indicated she was in a relationship. That was six years ago, and it hadn’t changed.

  As the years passed, he kept expecting his feelings for her to diminish. They didn’t. But the impulse to reach out to her did.

  Right after graduation, he’d been miserable not seeing her, talking to her every day. Then time passed. One day turned into a week, a week turned into a month, a month turned into a year, and here they were a decade later. He’d thought about messaging her through social media, but he’d never been sure what to say.

  “Didn’t she tutor you or something?”

  “Yeah. In Sp
anish.”

  Richie’s head fell back and he laughed. “That’s right.”

  Marco’s friends and some of his family thought it was hilarious that he had to be tutored in Spanish when his father was first-generation Mexican American. But his dad never spoke his native tongue so Marco had never picked it up. It still bothered him.

  “Did you guys ever…did you ever tap that?” Richie asked with the tact of a Neanderthal.

  In his mind, yes. A thousand times. In reality…

  “No.”

  “That is a damn shame, MVP.” Richie slapped his back as he used Marco’s high school nickname.

  They’d started calling him “player” freshman year after he got caught in the janitor’s closet with Marcy Lewis, who happened to be the coach’s daughter. That same year he also won MVP in JV football. His friends thought they were really clever referring to his accomplishments on and off the field.

  “How have things been going with you, man?” Marco attempted to steer the conversation in a different direction. He didn’t feel comfortable discussing Sydney behind her back. Even though, to his great disappointment, they’d only been friends, they were actually friends. Real friends. They used to have real conversations about things that mattered, which was not something he could say about any of the other people he’d gone to high school with. He’d tried to be friends with these people to fit in at a school where kids got Ferrari’s for their sixteenth birthday and he had to work part-time to buy the sneakers he wanted. As an adult he didn’t have that same impulse. “The kids must be getting big.”

  The distraction tactic worked. Richie turned his attention fully to their conversation. “Yeah, they are. Ryland is starting fourth grade and Cecily is going into first.”

  “Wow.” Marco made it back to his hometown about every six months to visit his family, but he rarely connected with his friends anymore. He mainly caught up with them over social media, and by “catching up” he meant liking posts of photos and updates that they shared.

  “Yeah,” Richie continued, “and Steph and I finally came to a custody arrangement, so that’s been good. I see the kids every Wednesday from five to nine, and then alternating weekends. And once a month I get them for a long weekend from Thursday until Tuesday. It’s great.”

  “Sounds great.” It actually sounded complicated, but he didn’t want to rain on his friend’s co-parenting parade.

  Shared custody was the reason Marco was still single. Rationally he knew that marriage didn’t always lead to having children. Or that being married didn’t always lead to divorce. But, that’s what his brain was hardwired to believe. When he thought about marriage his mind jumped to divorce and shared custody.

  He was the kid that had to split time between his mom and dad’s house, and he never wanted that for his own children. When he was growing up, his parents never fought. They had dinner together as a family whenever his dad wasn’t at the firehouse. They had movie nights, game nights, and then one day his parents sat him down and said that they weren’t going to live together anymore and he and his mom were moving to Sunset Canyon. There was no buildup. No nights huddled in his room while they screamed. No wondering where his dad was while his mom paced the floor.

  They got along. They were a family. And then they weren’t.

  To this day, they both maintained that neither of them cheated and that they both still cared about each other.

  He’d never seen it coming and that had royally screwed Marco up. If his parents couldn’t make it work, when they never fought, got along, and still cared about each other, why the hell did he think it would be any different for him? And maybe, if it was just him, he’d take that chance, but there was no way he’d do that to a kid. So as much as he wanted to settle down, to have a family, he had no plans to do so.

  In nearly every area of Marco’s life, he was a risk taker. A thrill seeker. From the time he was a kid he’d taken every dare that had come his way. The more dangerous the better. He’d chased the rush.

  When he was eight he jumped off the roof of his two-story house into the pool. When he was twelve he’d rode his skateboard off the pier into the ocean. When he was fifteen he’d surfed Teen Wolf style on top of the pizza delivery van that his friend was driving.

  As an adult, he’d parlayed his endorphin addiction into a more productive and responsible lifestyle. He’d chosen a career where the stakes were high and became a firefighter. Some had called him an adrenaline junkie, some had called him crazy. And those descriptions might be accurate in most areas of his life. But when it came to taking a leap in his personal life he played it as safe as possible.

  He enjoyed women but had never had a serious relationship as an adult. Casual. Fun. Short. No attachments.

  “MVP!”

  Marco heard someone shout behind him and he turned to see his friend Jeremy.

  “Hey, man!” Marco slapped his hand and pulled him into the one-arm-back-pat-man hug.

  “Richie rich!” Jeremy pulled Richie into a hug.

  “Twenty-four!” Richie greeted Jeremy using his jersey number.

  All three men had played football together in middle school and high school.

  Lowering his voice, Jeremy leaned in close to them. “Have you guys seen Sydney Prince?”

  Richie’s head dipped and rose in an exaggerated nod as his eyes grew larger.

  “Holy shit, she looks so hot!” Jeremy enthused. “Did you see that dress?”

  Marco shifted away from the two men and stepped up to the bar.

  He needed a drink.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Richie was cupping his hands in front of his chest as he discussed her assets. Over the music he didn’t catch everything his friend said, but he definitely heard, “…filled out she is now.”

  When the bartender arrived at the moment his friend was miming his observation, instead of acknowledging it, Marco smiled. “Can I get a Heineken?”

  “Sure thing.” The pretty blonde in a white button-up shirt and bowtie grinned as she opened the cooler and lifted a green bottle. Her lips curled as she handed it to him.

  “How are you doing tonight?”

  “I can’t complain.” Marco took a sip. “How about you?”

  “I’ll be better in about,” she looked down at her watch, “an hour and a half. I’m Misty, by the way.”

  Marco grinned. “Marco, nice to meet you.”

  “Misty and Marco.” She tilted her head as if she was considering something. “It has a nice ring to it.”

  His grin grew wider. “Does it?”

  “I think so.” She didn’t break eye contact as her sly grin tilted up further into a private smile.

  She was good. Flirty but not too forward. She was letting him know that she was interested but she didn’t come on too strong. He should be interested, but for some reason, he wasn’t.

  “Let me get two of those.” Richie motioned to the beer that Marco was holding before he slapped his hand down on the wood bar top.

  Misty grabbed two bottles and popped the caps off before setting them in front of him. Marco reached into his pocket to pull out the tip and Richie put his hand on his arm to stop him. “It’s an open bar.”

  “I know, I’m leaving a tip.”

  Richie shrugged in a gesture that read both condescending and confused. It was a reaction that Marco had gotten used to during his years at Crestview Academy. The private school they attended was filled with rich kids who summered in Europe and whose families owned second homes in places like Aspen or New York.

  His working-class parents couldn’t afford the tuition but Marco had been awarded a football scholarship. He’d wanted to attend public school with his friends, but at fourteen, it hadn’t been up to him. His post-divorce parents rarely agreed on anything, but their only son getting the best education possible was one of the few things they were on the same page about. He’d had no choice in the matter.

  “Nice to meet you, Misty.” He dropped a five int
o the tip jar before heading over to the table that his high school crew had claimed.

  “Let’s do shots!” Carson, whose high school nickname was Animal, after the Muppet, threw his hands up in the air as soon as the trio joined the group already seated.

  “Shots! Shots!” Jeremy chanted.

  Marco raised his beer bottle. “I’m good.”

  As Carson made his way up to the bar, Marco looked around the table. All of his friends either had kids, were married, or divorced. Two of his friends had hit all three of those milestones.

  The more time that passed since high school, the more that Marco realized he didn’t have anything in common with the people he’d spent those formative years with. And it wasn’t just the differences in their bank accounts. Every year that went by, he was finding it harder and harder to find common ground with these guys.

  “So, are you still up in Lake Tahoe?” Carson’s wife, Corrine, asked.

  Corrine was a few years behind them in school and Marco didn’t know her that well. This might be the first conversation that they’d ever had. “Hope Falls. It’s about forty-five minutes from Tahoe.”

  “I don’t know why you didn’t come back here,” Jeremy interjected.

  Because this place never felt like home. It wasn’t, really. He’d moved here when he was eleven so he hadn’t grown up here.

  “You still fighting fires and breaking hearts?” She asked as she smiled at him in what he hoped was just a friendly smile.

  “Yep, still fightin’ fires,” Marco responded.

  She giggled and scooted closer to him.

  Shit.

  His eyes were scanning for an escape route when he heard, “Hey, stranger,” from a familiar voice behind him.

  When he turned his head, he saw Avery Lincoln’s wide smile staring down at him. He smiled back. Both for seeing her and for her perfect timing.

  “Hey, Doll.” He used the name he’d always called her during their on-again, off-again pubescent romance as he stood and pulled his ex into a hug.

  He and Avery had embodied every bad, clichéd teenage movie. He was the captain of the football team that came from the blue-collar family. She was the head cheerleader with a trust fund. He was the kid people only knew because of his athletic ability and she was practically royalty in Sunset Canyon. Her great-great-great grandfather was one of the town’s founders.