Slow Burn (Hearts on Fire #1)

Prologue

April

J enna McCall was drunk. Not just tipsy, she was trashed.

My best friend had been going drink for drink with her buddy, Wren, since the start of the night, and she wasn’t showing any signs of slowing down.

What was giving her away, you ask?

Well, it wasn’t just that I’d known her my entire life. Probably knew her better than I knew myself. Although, after Knox’s little pep talk in my truck a few weeks ago, I was starting to wonder if I knew her as well as I thought.

Seems we didn’t tell each other everything, but I digress.

Aside from the rosy flush of her cheeks and the glint in her eye that told me she was having the time of her life, it was the slide of her palm on my thigh and the warmth of her body as she snuggled into my side that had me swapping out my beer for water a half hour ago.

Like always, my arm was draped over the back of her chair, so I would have to use my other hand to extract myself if I wanted to, which I didn’t.

Begrudgingly, I lifted her small hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles softly, and then threaded our fingers together before placing them back on my leg—my hand first.

Because we didn’t ever go there .

As much as I wanted to, craved to, in the twenty-three years we’d been practically inseparable, I’d never once crossed that line.

Even though she was the most gorgeous woman I’d ever laid eyes on, and as much as she hated it, her body was soft in all the right places. Her hips had my palms twitching to reach out and haul her full curves to me 90 percent of the time we spent together.

Her light brown eyes gave me more comfort than I’d ever been able to fathom, and she was the warmest person I’d ever met.

Friendly and empathic to her core, far too good for the likes of me.

She was crazy smart and a talented pastry chef. She could whip up what should be the most humdrum of meals but with one bite, somehow, you’d feel instantly better. Flavors would burst on your tongue, and you’d always be asking for more, no matter how full you were.

But that hand, that slow, enticing glide, has had me praying to all that is holy to keep my cool and remember why I’d made the decision never to act on my desire for her.

She was just tactile and always had been. Jenna showed she cared by feeding and touching you—in a totally platonic way—but I had been addicted to those friendly gestures my entire adult life, and if I was honest, most of puberty too.

And I, like everyone else in my life, had always thought we’d end up together. You found a girl who could throw a perfect spiral, a girl who was constantly baking your favorite treats, a warm, funny, and smart girl. A girl who sat in a hockey rink for hours on end while you contorted yourself blocking pucks just so you had someone to talk to after, then you held onto her with everything you’d got.

That way of thinking had changed, though, when at twenty-one, I realized the kind of man I was becoming: a selfish asshole who may have been worthy of her friendship but never of her love.

This wasn’t me suffering from an inferiority complex or intimidated by her loving heart and sweet gestures. And I wasn’t some douche who was afraid of commitment.

I just knew we couldn’t be together.

Knew I’d never shoot my shot.

Lately, though, burying my feelings for her had become a full-time job. It was the tether on my self-control slowly unraveling that had me pulling twenty-four-hour shifts to try and keep my hands, and well, every other part of me, away from Jenna.

Maybe it was because one by one my siblings and cousins were starting to get serious with their girlfriends. Hell, Casey was already married, Theo engaged. I looked at them and thought I should have that.

Or maybe it was my impending thirties.

Or maybe it was because my shithead little brother had just dropped a bomb in my lap, and I had no idea when the timer was going to run out and blow my life to smithereens.

And that clock tormented me day and fucking night.

That slick-dick billionaire, or who-the-fuck-ever, sniffing around my Jenna was making all the right moves. I’d seen him in action myself, and I knew she was genuinely in the right place in life to be open to a full-on relationship.

I was man enough to admit that her being so driven and focused on setting up her own business had given me a little breathing room.

Jenna was dedicated and ambitious when she set her mind to something and that usually equated to her seeming unavailable, but that didn’t mean I’d been biding my time; it just meant I hadn’t had to think about her being with anyone else.

Or see it.

Fuck, that was going to be a living nightmare.

I’d do it though, because all I wanted was for her to be happy, and if that meant her forgetting about me and flying off into the sunset on coffee douche’s jet, then so be it.

It made me feel sick, because if I couldn’t have her, I didn’t want anyone else to either.

See? I truly was an asshole.

I closed my eyes for just a second and pulled her in a little tighter, basking in this one tiny moment.

I absolutely knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was it for me. I didn’t ever scoff when people talked of fated love, wouldn’t deny anyone who said they were looking for their soulmate. I knew they existed because mine was currently resting her head on my shoulder, running her thumb over the inside of my wrist, and when I opened my eyes to look at her, she was already smiling up at me.

“I’m having the best night. I’m so glad Seb is covering and Kate is opening up tomorrow. That girl is a godsend.”

Kate was my nephew Jack’s honorary sister.

When she had needed somewhere to stay last summer, my sister Coralie and her boyfriend Gunner had given Kate a safe place to call home. And when within about three days Jack had adopted her as his own, the rest of the family followed suit.

“She’s a good girl and you’ve trained her well,” I chuckled, unable to keep the grin off my face. I knew exactly what sort of bakery bootcamp Jenna had put Kate through when she first hired her to work at Cupcake.

My Jenna owned and managed a thriving bakery in the middle of Harlem, just a few blocks from the firehouse I was stationed at, and around the corner from my apartment.

Yep, in the span of three square blocks, I had everything I needed.

Knox eyeballed me as he approached with a soda, and my eyes narrowed at his smirk as I let go of her hand to reach for it. The look on his face told me he was ready to give me shit, but just as he was gearing up to say something ridiculous about me holding my best friend’s hand, the Emcee called out his name.

Again.

We had been at Full Moon, a bar owned and run by an ex-NHL player, since 7 p.m. He had managed to create an atmosphere where my brothers and their Wolves teammates were able to relax after a home game, win or lose. Fans were welcome here, too, as long as they respected boundaries, and mostly they did.

Tonight marked the fifth annual Wolves Karaoke party, and all the guys at our table had resigned themselves to the fact that the night had officially been taken over by the girls.

They’d all slowed down while the women had ramped it right up.

Even my sister, the most responsible and sensible of us all, was a total mess. So apart from my sister-in-law, Anna, who was pregnant and abstaining from the massive alcohol consumption, it was basically a takeover.

“Oh, fuck me!” my cousin, Theo, shouted as he lunged for an empty glass that was about to be met with the stiletto of his fiancé’s boot.

I turned on instinct, ready to help in any way I could, when I was stopped by Jenna—who’d begun using me as a fucking ladder—eagerly trying to join the women in my crazy family up on the tabletop.

It all became clear when I spun to look at what they were going so feral over. All my brothers—Casey, Knox, and their teammates Gunner, Rex, and Hollywood—were up on stage strutting around to a song I’d never heard before.

Knox started belting out the words like he’d been rehearsing, never once looking at the screen for prompts to the lyrics, and when all their shirts came off, I knew it was game over.

“Put your babies in me, Gunner Grey!” was the absolute last straw, and I groaned at my sister’s shrill, unguarded voice.

No brother should have to hear those words screeched across a packed bar.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, the song finished, and I hoisted Jenna into my arms so she didn’t hurt herself climbing down. I had to mentally break the synapses that sparked and ignore the sensation of her sliding down my body.

She rolled her eyes as we sat back in our seats. “We can go in a minute, old man. Let me just finish my drink.”

All I could do was nod, relieved that she’d taken my look of discomfort as a sign to leave, and not because the feel of her sweet curves pressed against my body drove me crazy. I passed her the beer I’d rescued from their impromptu table dance.

“Thank you,” she said, bringing the bottle to her pretty lips and then chugging the whole thing, her delicate throat working with each gulp.

Somehow, she managed to make even that look sexy.

I couldn’t help but stare down at the only girl I’d ever loved, my heart cracking just a little, and wished, not for the first time, that she was mine in every sense of the word.

I had made a promise to bring her along with me wherever I went, to always keep her safe and happy, and now I had to find a way to let her go.

Day One of Kindergarten

“No, Mama, no. I don’t wanna go.”

“Oh, honey, it’s only for a few hours.”

“No, please,” I begged, “I wanna stay home with you and Knox. What if Dad calls?”

He was in the Air Force and had a really important job keeping people safe. Sometimes he called the house phone when Casey and Coralie were at school. They were my brother and sister.

Casey had gotten really mad, and Coralie cried last time, and now I knew why. I didn’t want to miss it either.

“Okay, sweetheart, how about this, you go in there like the brave boy I know you are, and then later we’ll write a letter to your daddy telling him about all the fun you’ve had.”

My lip wobbled even though I tried to stop it with my teeth. Mama stroked under my chin, gently lifting my face so I was looking at her.

“You can do this, my brave boy.”

“I, I can’t protect you and the babies here.”

Mama’s eyes had gotten all watery, but she took a deep breath and lowered down onto her knees. I knew it was hard for her, but she did it anyway. Mama’s tummy was round now. You could see that there was a baby in there. All squashed up like a basketball.

Mama needed my help. My big brother was already in second grade, and it was my job to take care of her and Knox, and the new baby.

“Scott, listen to me. Your mission today is to make a new friend and have lots of fun. That’s all I want you to think about, okay? The mission. I want you to laugh and play and make a new friend. Can you do that for me?”

Before I could say anything, a quiet voice cut me off. “You scared?”

I turned to face whoever had just asked me that.

“No,” I shook my head, hard, “I’m not scared. I’m not scared of anything.”

“I am. My mommy is far away, so she couldn’t bring me today. She won’t be back for fifteen more days.”

I stood up straighter because that shocked me. My dad wouldn’t be back for fifteen more days either. I looked at Mama and then back to the girl with curly brown hair. She was smaller than me, and her mama could be in the same place my dad was.

Somewhere dangerous. Most of the kids at this school had mamas or dads in the Air Force.

Maybe . . . maybe she needed me to protect her too . . . until her mama got back.

“What’s your name?” I asked her.

“Jenna Ashley McCall. What’s yours?”

I smiled. “Scott Ashley Madden.”

“Ah! We have the same name!”

“Yeah, we do.”

I liked that a lot. Someone with the same middle name as me had to be cool. I reached out and took her hand, squeezing it hard. “Come on. You can stick with me.”

She looked over her shoulder and waved to her dad, who had on the same uniform my dad wore. Jenna stuck up her thumb at Mama, but I didn’t know why.

All I knew was if my mission was to have fun, then she was gonna be right by my side while I did it.