From Nowhere (Wildfire #2)

Chapter Thirty-One

“What took you so long?” Lola asks when I climb out of my RAV. Her blond hair blows in her face while she totes Bandit toward me.

I laugh. “Sorry. I was talking with a friend.”

“My dad? I know he’s not just a friend.”

I take Bandit from her and open the back of my vehicle to put him in his carrier. “My friend Jamie. You met her and her fiancé, Fitz. They just bought a house, and they’re getting married.”

“I almost went to a wedding,” Lola says.

“Oh?” I close the back door and lean against it, arms crossed over my chest.

Lola kicks a rock in the driveway. “Yeah, my aunt Jenny asked me to be her flower girl, but then the accident happened. Dad said it had nothing to do with my face, but I don’t believe them. So Aunt Jenny and Uncle Darin anteloped.”

“They eloped.”

“Yeah.” She giggles, and her nose wrinkles. “That’s it.”

“What’s your middle name?”

“Winnie. Why?”

I gently frame her face, and her big blue eyes gaze up at me while my thumb traces one of her scars. “Because I need to use your full name when I say this to you so you know I’m serious. Okay?”

Lola blinks and whispers, “Okay.”

“Lola Winnie Laster, I promise you that your aunt and uncle wanted you to be their flower girl even after your accident. There’s a reason people say true love is blind. It’s because the people who really love you see your beauty in all its glorious forms. They saw it before the accident. You radiated a bright innocence. And now, your scars”—again, I brush my thumb under her eye—“they are reminders of your strength. When people look at you, they see everything they hope to be themselves. Strong. Brave. And beautiful.”

She swallows hard.

I lean down and press my lips to her forehead before whispering, “You’re alive, sweet girl. And life is beautiful.”

“My mom is dead,” she murmurs.

I run my fingers through her hair to the back of her head and pull her into my embrace. “I know. And that is your ugly truth. My brother died. And that is my ugly truth.”

She wraps her arms around my waist. “Thanks for loving my dad and me.”

Tears burn my eyes just as something in the window moves. Tia folds her arms over her chest, eyeing me with displeasure, and I know I have to get out or go all in.

Lola is Ozzy’s world. Maybe they can be mine. And perhaps that’s all I’ll ever need.

“I think your dad is bringing you to my house later.” I release Lola.

“Yeah.” Lola tips her head back, surveying the sky. “But Nana said it’s supposed to rain.”

“Hopefully not.” I open my car door, and Lola glances inside my RAV. “Do you want to sit in the driver’s seat? I used to sit in the driver’s seat of my dad’s car and pretend I was driving.”

With an unreadable expression, Lola slowly shakes her head and whispers, “No.”

It’s the first time I’ve seen actual fear in her demeanor, tiny lines forming along her forehead while she chews on the inside of her cheek and wrings her hands together.

“If it rains, I’ll send pictures. And you can come tomorrow. Did I mention I bought a soft, blue velvet sofa?”

It takes Lola a few seconds to recover. Where is her mind? Back with the accident? Does she remember much from that day? I regret suggesting she sit in my driver’s seat. I’m sure more intelligent, more convincing people than me have tried to get her into a car.

She mumbles something, bringing her gaze to mine.

“What?” I ask.

“You should have bought leather.”

“A leather sofa?”

She nods. “Nana said something about a six and a dozen something. Like cats scratch leather but shed on fabric.”

Again, this girl makes me smile. My face cracks with a huge smile, or my heart breaks with her. “Six of one, half dozen of the other?”

Lola nods. “Yeah, I think that was it.”

I glance toward the window again, and Tia’s still keeping a watchful eye on us.

“She’s right. I’m going with a sticky roller for the fur instead of the scratched sofa.”

“Bandit’s worth it,” Lola says.

I climb into the driver’s seat. “He is,” I say. Bandit’s worth it because he makes Lola deliriously happy, which makes me happy. I hope she knows that her father thinks she’s worth every mile he’s put on his bike.

Every missed opportunity.

Every scowl and snide word from Tia.

I hope she feels worthy of happiness and all the love from everyone around her.

“Be careful,” Lola says with a sad smile. “Ignore Bandit if he meows.”

Oh, Lola . . .

“I will,” I say.

“And be careful when you’re flying.” She keeps tugging at my heartstrings.

“I will. I’ll see you later if it doesn’t rain, or tomorrow if it does.”

“Okay.” Lola waves when I close my door.

I’m in. I’m all in.

I love this little girl.

I love her dad.

I love this version of myself with them in my life.

It rains.

I finish cleaning what little Jamie left for me. Then I sit on my one piece of furniture.

It’s quiet. Too quiet.

I don’t have a TV yet, and my internet won’t be connected until Monday. While I stare at the popcorn-textured ceiling from my velvet sofa with Bandit purring on my lap, someone knocks at my door.

A soaked Ozzy grins when I open it.

“What are you doing?” My jaw drops.

He shakes like a dog, and I wrinkle my nose when the water hits me.

“I snuck out,” he says, removing his boots and stepping inside. He digs his hand into the pocket of his rain jacket and pulls out six dandelions.

We both stare at the sad, wet, and wilted little flowers.

“It’s the thought that counts, right?”

I bite back my grin and nod while peeling them from his open palm. He has no idea how much his thoughts count, how much they matter to me and my sappy heart.

“Where can I put this so your wood floor doesn’t get wet?” He holds out his jacket.

“Uh.” I look around. “Maybe the bathroom. It has vinyl flooring.”

Ozzy tosses his jacket into the half bath and lifts his T-shirt to dry his face.

I set the dandelions on the counter and turn, staring at his abs and tattoos.

“I assumed you and Lola would come tomorrow. It’s almost ten, and it’s raining ,” I say.

“I heard you got a new sofa.”

I flip out my hip and cross my arms over my chest. “You heard I got a new sofa? That’s why you’re here? You couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see it.”

Ozzy cants his head, gaze shooting over my shoulder. “It’s a bold color.”

“I’m a bold woman. And you have blue appliances in your kitchen.”

He smirks.

“I’ve missed you,” I whisper.

Ozzy’s attention shifts back to me. “I figured. That’s why I’m here.”

“You’re so arrogant.” I narrow my eyes.

“You mean thoughtful .”

“Thoughtful?” I twist my lips.

“I knew you were missing me, so I rode in the rain to be here for you, and I remembered flowers this time.”

God, I love him. But I won’t submit so easily.

“And Lola said you talked about beautiful and ugly things today.”

“I overstepped.” I frown. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” Ozzy steps toward me, lifting my chin with his finger. “She said you offered to let her sit in your RAV, and for the first time since her mom died, she wanted to because she looks up to you. But she couldn’t, and I could tell that bothered her.”

I frown.

“Don’t do that.” He grins before pecking my lips. “Today was also the first time she seemed bothered by not getting into a car. That’s progress.” Ozzy kisses me again. “You’re the reason she made progress today.” He slides his fingers into my hair and kisses me deeper. As he releases my mouth and drags his lips along my jaw to my ear, he whispers, “I fucking missed you so much.”

“Let’s go upstairs,” I murmur, clenching his T-shirt while my eyelids leaden from his hot mouth on my neck, licking my flesh and teasing it with his teeth.

We slow-dance our way to the stairs between kisses. I turn, gripping the railing and making it halfway up before he curls his fingers into the waistband of my jogging shorts, pulling them down my legs along with my underwear.

“Ozzy ...” I make a weak protest while he playfully bites my ass.

With my shorts and underwear shackling my legs, I have nowhere to go but on my knees.

“I can’t take you to the beach,” he murmurs, “but this I can do.”

My fingers curl into the worn carpeted stairs and my head drops between my outstretched arms while he unbuttons his jeans. In the next breath, he drives into me, and I moan.

The dichotomy of Ozzy, father to Lola, and Ozzy, caveman screwing the life out of me, blows my mind.

I don’t care what he says. He missed me too.

My body starts to collapse with my release, so Ozzy lifts me to the top of the stairs until I’m lying on my back with him moving between my spread knees. When he orgasms, the tendons in his neck stretch tight as his head rears backward. He smiles while opening his eyes and catching his breath.

“I found a penny in the parking lot this morning. I knew it was good luck,” he says, dipping his head and sucking my nipple between his lips. Then he releases it with a chuckle. “And when I walked into the hangar, there was music playing—James Brown’s ‘I Got You.’”

I giggle as he kisses his way to my other breast. “Do you want to hear my condom story?”

“Absolutely,” he says.

I free my arms so my fingers can play in his hair while he gives my breasts the attention they deserve. “I don’t remember how old I was, but I was too young to know anything about condoms. I found my dad’s stash in his closet when my grandma was babysitting me and my brother. So I showed her the box, and she told me to put them back. When I asked her what they were, she told me they were what my dad used on lucky days.”

Ozzy rolls us so we’re facing each other on our sides, heads propped up on our arms, legs tangled in our partially removed clothes.

“So the next day, I took one of his condoms to school with me because my teacher was choosing a new helper for that week. And guess what?”

Ozzy beams. “What?”

“She chose me. So I told her I knew it was my lucky day, and I pulled the lucky condom out of my pocket and showed it to her.”

Ozzy barks a laugh that settles into silent snickering, which shakes his body, and he covers his mouth with a fist.

I grin. “Let’s just say it was an interesting meeting with my parents in the principal’s office. I’m sure I should have been embarrassed, but all I remember is my dad sweating through his shirt, and my mom’s cheeks looked like two shiny red apples.”

Ozzy rolls onto his back and throws an arm over his face while he continues to laugh.

“You’re welcome,” I say, gathering my shorts and underwear before disappearing into my bathroom.

When I emerge with the girl parts all cleaned up and my clothes in place, I find Ozzy in the kitchen with the fridge door open.

So much for making it to the bedroom.

“Maren, you have no food. How am I supposed to refuel for round two?”

“I’ll get groceries tomorrow. It might just be a one-round night. I assume you’re going home before Lola or her grandparents wake.”

Ozzy shuts the fridge door and leans his back against it. “Yes. I might have one of Lola’s ZBARs in the inner pocket of my rain jacket to get me by.”

“Since I’m sharing embarrassing things, I might as well let you in on another secret,” I say.

He lifts his eyebrows.

I get a glass of water. “After our weekend sexcapade at your house, I had a killer UTI the following week. I think you deposited six gallons of sperm into me.”

While narrowing his eyes, he corkscrews his lips. “You didn’t hydrate enough.”

I pause my glass of hydration at my lips. “Uh.” I cough. “Okay. Sure. It was all on me.”

Ozzy tries to offer a guilty grin, but it looks far more cocky than regretful or apologetic. “You want me to wear lucky condoms.” He nods several times.

“ Or we could space things out a little more.”

“So lots of sex with condoms, or less sex but no condoms?” He scratches his chin.

“I feel like I’m talking to a sixteen-year-old boy, not a grown man.” I laugh.

“Maren.” He steals my glass and refills it with water, taking a few gulps before handing me the rest. “When it comes to sex, all men are boys. When we’re not having it, we’re thinking about it.”

“Can I ask you a question about Lola?”

He buckles over, stumbling back a few steps. “No, no, no. You can’t say my daughter’s name directly after I tell you I think about sex a lot.”

I finish the glass of water like a good girl and smile.

“And what have I said about you asking me if you can ask me a question?” Ozzy stands straight and rolls his shoulders back with a hard sigh.

“What do you do when Lola gets sick, and you have to take her to the doctor, or she gets sick at school and needs to come home early? Do you make her ride her bike?”

“I’ve walked to her school and carried her home. A friend picks up her bike and brings it home. And I have a family doctor who makes house calls, but thankfully, Lola rarely gets sick.”

“A family doctor who makes house calls?” I ask.

“For Lola, yes.”

“You’ve carried her home from school?”

He nods.

It seems silly to say you can fall in love with someone over and over without falling out of love first, but I fall in love with Ozzy every time we’re together. Or maybe I just fall deeper. I’m starting to think there’s an infinite depth to which I can fall for this man.

“What?” he asks with a funny grin.

I slowly shake my head. “You’re the man, Ozzy.”

“Thanks. That’s reassuring, since I’ve always considered myself a man.”

“No. Not a man. You’re the man. There’s a difference.”

He narrows his eyes and parts his lips like he’s going to say something, but then he wets them and saunters toward my sofa. As soon as he plops down, Bandit jumps onto his lap.

“My backup fiancé will never see the inside of this house because I rescued that cat for your daughter.”

“Whoa, what?” Ozzy eyes me. “Backup fiancé?”

“Yes,” I say, nestling into the corner of the sofa, hugging my knees. “Will’s my backup husband if we’re both still single in two more years.”

“ Still single? Are you single now?”

My heart soars when it detects frustration, or maybe even jealousy, in Ozzy’s voice. “I’m single until I find a man who says he loves me,” I say, inspecting my nails.

“What do I have to do to prove myself?”

I shift my gaze to his. “You have to say it.”

“Pfft. Actions speak louder than words.”

“They don’t. It’s just a cliché. There are a lot of silent actions. But words can be very loud.”

“Unless you’re deaf,” he counters.

“But I’m not.”

He moves his lips without speaking.

“You’re such an ass.” I smack him with one of the throw pillows, and Bandit flies off the sofa and runs upstairs.

Ozzy grabs my wrists and pulls me onto his lap. “But am I the ass?” He guides my arms around his neck and kisses me before I answer.

I pull back and smile while brushing my nose against his. “I don’t even want you to say it now. I know you’re saving it. So it better be epic when you do say it.”

“That’s a lot of pressure.” He leans forward and kisses my neck.

“Can you help me refinish my wood floors?”

I feel his lips bend into a smile against my skin. “I can.”

“New kitchen cabinets and countertops.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He slides his hands up the back of my shirt, unhooking my bra, and I can no longer think about renovations.

I close my eyes as my head lolls to the side. “Ozzy, are we in love?” I whisper.

He presses his hand to the side of my head, lifting it while the pad of his thumb brushes my bottom lip. “We’re so in love,” he says before kissing me.