Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
The next hour was a whirlwind of worrying, noise, police reports, and relief so intense when Laurel saw Jake emerge from the building with the rest of his crew, it nearly brought her to tears.
She rationalized her reaction was due to being happy no one had gotten hurt because of her—which was true—and not that Jake had come to mean something. How could he possibly mean anything to her? They’d barely spent any time together. They didn’t even know each other. She was happy he was safe, nothing more.
Keep telling yourself that.
After talking with his captain, Jake walked over to where Laurel was sitting on the back end of the ambulance, huddled under the blanket trying to stay warm.
“How’re you doing?”
“Fine,” she said.
He scowled at her choice of words. “Again with the ‘fine’?”
“Better,” she clarified. After a beat, she added, “ And fine.”
He shook his head, a what-am-I-gonna-do-with-you expression on his impossibly handsome face. “Cute and stubborn.”
She scrunched her nose. “Is the fire out?”
“Yep. Totally out.”
“How bad is it? Did it burn Mr. Wilkins’ apartment?”
Please say no. Please say no.
“No. Just yours.”
“That’s—” She was going to say great, but there wasn’t anything great about a fire burning anything.
“Sucks,” Jake finished for her. “But the damage isn’t bad. The wall behind the stove is going to need an overhaul, and you’ll have to replace anything that used to be in those cupboards.”
“So, my dishes are ruined? That’s not too bad.”
“Your dishes and the cupboards are ruined,” he corrected. “And there’s water and smoke damage, but I’m sure the apartment complex has insurance. Unless you have renter’s insurance, though, the personal items will fall on you. And they’ll probably raise your rent,” he said with a wink. “But as far as fires go, you got off pretty easy.”
“I’m just glad no one got hurt.”
“Me too.” He covered her hand with his. “Shit, Princess. You’re freezing.”
Pretty much.
“I’m—”
“If you say ‘fine’ one more time, I’m gonna put you over my knee and spank you.”
Heat shot through her with lightning speed, especially with the way he was looking at her… like he wouldn’t mind making good on his threat.
“Cold,” she whispered, not trusting her own voice. “A little cold.” True, it was the end of May, but there were still chilly days now and again. Leave it to Mother Nature to conjure one on the exact day Laurel wasn’t wearing pants.
“You are basically naked from the waist down,” he reminded her, the look in his eyes making her breath hitch. “Let’s get you some clothes.” As he helped her down from her perch, he added, “That’s something I never thought I’d say to a woman wearing sex kitten underwear.”
She groaned and buried her face in the blanket. “I’m cutting up this underwear,” she whimpered.
“Now, that would be a tragedy.”
She chose to ignore his comment. “I’m glad I get to go back inside.”
“Only to get a few things,” he clarified, escorting her back to the building. “You’re not staying.”
“What do you mean, I’m not staying?”
“For one thing, the entire place smells like smoke, which you shouldn’t be breathing, and you’re gonna need disaster cleanup to come in and get rid of the water and foam.”
“Wait. Foam?”
“It’s not uncommon to use a little foam in the water when there’s oil or grease involved. Kind of like the foam in a fire extinguisher. Water can spread a grease fire. Basically, if you throw water onto, say, a pan of fried chicken?—”
Laurel stopped short and turned to him. “I didn’t mean to. I accidentally knocked over a glass of water. I didn’t throw it on the fire on purpose. I know better than that.”
Jake held his hands up in surrender. “I believe you. I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m just telling you what the foam is for, okay?”
“Okay.”
“In layman’s terms, when the water superheats, it creates steam that carries tiny grease droplets to other areas, like a wall. Since it’s flammable, it can ignite and make the fire spread quickly. When we add foam to the water, it creates a barrier between the grease and oxygen, which helps smother the flames.”
“I never knew that.”
Jake grinned and took her hand. “Who said a bad boy can’t teach a teacher a few things?”
Laurel directed her attention away from his clear blue eyes and concentrated on the building they were approaching. The look he’d given her made it feel like he was trying to decipher her secrets. Or worse yet, learn her fantasies... which, lately, all featured him in a starring role.
He leaned over and whispered, “I bet you’d be a great student.”
She stumbled mid-step.
“You okay?” Jake asked.
The man spoke double entendre so fluently, he probably held a gold medal.
“I’m fi—good,” she corrected quickly. “I’m good.” If you count getting turned on by a guy explaining firefighting foam, good. “Is it dangerous?”
“The foam?”
She nodded.
I already know you’re dangerous.
“No. It’s non-toxic to humans. Just don’t go eating it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Darn, I was hoping it would add a little seasoning to my chicken.”
“Oh, shit, that’s right. You haven’t eaten yet.”
“Well, my kitchen is trashed, so… perfect excuse to get a greasy, fast-food burger.”
“Maybe you should lay off grease for the rest of the night.”
“Oh, my gosh!” She slapped him on the arm. “Really?”
“Too soon?”
She laid her best teacher glare on him.
“Too soon,” he confirmed. “But seriously, you shouldn’t be eating that stuff. It’s not healthy.”
“Wow. I never pegged you for a health nut.”
“Me?” He grimaced. “Fuck, no. I dip my mayonnaise in mayonnaise.”
That made her laugh.
“But I do make a mean ravioli.”
Jake opened the door to her apartment. As soon as they stepped inside, the acrid stench of smoke accosted them.
“Eww.” She pulled the blanket up over her nose and tried to breathe through her mouth. “You weren’t kidding that it smells like smoke.”
“I have my vices, but lying isn’t one of them.”
“Something tells me you don’t sugarcoat much,” she said.
“Just my cereal.”
Laurel timidly approached the kitchen. Her face fell when she looked at the destruction caused by the fire. Most of the wall behind the stove was black with sections burned through the drywall. The cupboards looked like charcoal boxes. Some were completely destroyed, others hanging in tatters, and more still were in charred pieces on the floor. There was debris, broken dishes, shards of glass, warped, partially melted plastic bowls, and other items strewn all over the wet floor. White froth floated on some of the puddles and frosted other areas of the kitchen.
Hearing about the damage was one thing; seeing it in person made tears spring to her eyes.
“Everyone’s safe,” Jake reminded her.
“I know, it’s just…” She swiped away a tear that had slipped down her cheek. “I did this. It’s my fault.”
“It was an accident, not arson.”
“I know, but?—”
“How’d it happen?”
A sharp inhale of the lingering smoke threw her into a coughing fit. She could not tell him what she’d been doing! Cheeks burning, she parroted the same story she’d given the police. “I fell asleep on the couch while I was waiting for the chicken to cook.” Apparently, one of her vices was lying, but how could she tell him the real reason she’d practically burned down the place was because she’d been?—
“Oh, fudge,” she whimpered, burying her face in the blanket.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Jake soothed, oblivious to what was really troubling her.
Thank goodness because she’d have to move to an uncharted island if he knew.
“Do you have someplace to stay for a while?”
Looking at the destruction, Laurel conceded he was right. She couldn’t stay here. Skye was out of town for a destination wedding. She’d been hired to do hair and makeup for the bride and all of her bridesmaids and wouldn’t be back until Sunday. She knew Skye would be happy to let her stay at her place, and she did have a key in case of emergencies. But the thought of being trapped, unprotected in a bus with his royal psycho, Eugene, gave Laurel the heebie-jeebies. She valued her life too much to offer herself up as a sacrifice to the feline death ninja.
“Skye’s out of town, but I’m sure I can stay with Britt.”
“Okay,” Jake said. “Get what you need, and I’ll drop you off.”
“She’s working right now, and I don’t have a key.” The restaurant wasn’t open as late during the week as it was on the weekends, but it was only a little after five p.m. It would still be around six hours before Britt was home. “I’ll just wait here until she’s off.”
“The hell you will,” Jake told her. “You’re coming home with me.”
Her eyes snapped to his.
“Relax, Princess. I’m not gonna take advantage of you… unless you want me to,” he added with a roguish grin. Her entire face flushed. “But you shouldn’t stay here. Come to my house, let me make you dinner, and you can go to your friend’s when she’s off work. Sound good?”
The taking advantage part? Yes! But no way in bells was she going to tell him that.
“You cook?” she asked instead.
“I can microwave ramen with the best of them.”
“Wow.” She drew out the word. “Impressive.”
“I’m a man of many talents.”
I’m sure you are.
“Say yes,” he coaxed. “I need a ride, anyway.”
She furrowed her brows. “Didn’t you just offer to drop me off?”
“I did, but I figured we’d take your car.”
“What?” The question came out as more of a puff of breath than an actual word.
“I came on the rig, Princess.” He tugged the collar of his turnout coat. “Not in my Jeep.”
“You’re on the clock until Saturday,” she said, the fact he was working finally sinking in. “You should go before they leave. I don’t want to get you into trouble.”
“I won’t get into trouble.”
“Besides, I can drive, you know. They gave me a license and everything. I’ll be fine.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Good,” she corrected, rolling her eyes.
He chuckled. “First off, I’m not going anywhere until I make sure you don’t try to stay here. And, second, you keeping tabs on me?”
“What?”
“My schedule,” he clarified. “You’re keeping track of my days off.”
Laurel was positive she must’ve looked like a kid who got caught a week before Christmas opening presents her parents had hidden. “No, I’m not.”
Yes, you are.
“Really?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “How do you know I’m not off until Saturday, then?”
“People are usually off on the weekends,” she hedged. “I forget your schedule is different.” That sounded plausible, right?
“Sure, you did.”
She ignored his sarcastic tone and raised him feigned indifference. “Regardless, you’re still working.”
“Ah, but you’re wrong,” he said, pointing a finger at her. “Logan’s covering for me. I’m taking one of his days next week. As of thirty minutes ago, I’m officially off for four days.”
“You are?”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
“So I can make sure you’re okay,” he said simply.
He had his friend cover for him to be with me?
For a moment, she forgot to breathe. Ethan never would’ve done something like that, and they’d been together for almost four years. Work was too important to him, and it wasn’t until after she’d walked away that she realized he’d never put her first. Yet here she and Jake had only been on two, or rather, one and a who-knows-what-it-was dates, and he’d rearranged his schedule for her.
Emotion lodged in her throat.
“Laurel? You good?”
No, not at all.
She swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the feelings engulfing her.
Cranberries.
She was falling for the bad boy.