Chapter Three
First Date Drama
Draven
I wasn’t planning on looking for Harmony in town and I sure as shit was trying to convince myself not to ask her out when I saw her again. But just like everything else in my life, the moment I make plans the universe throws a spanner in the works.
Not that I’m complaining. I’m a divorced thirty-two-year-old who hasn’t had sex in over two years, and Harmony is certainly not hard on the eyes. She is the total opposite of Aurora. All curves, hips, and a luscious ass.
Now, here I am standing in my bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a dark green towel, trying to convince myself that I can be friends with Harmony without trying to get closer to her. I don’t know what the hell came over me when I kissed her in the bakery. I mean, it was an innocent kiss on the cheek but the moment I did it I knew I wanted to kiss her again. And again. And not just on her cheek.
Hearing that she had wanted to ask me out to dinner made me feel like a sixteen-year-old again. Giddy with the anticipation of taking out a pretty girl. At least this time I don’t have to borrow my dad’s old beat-up Camaro.
I shake myself out of the thoughts on my mind and look at myself in the mirror.
“It’s just dinner, you schmuck.”
But the erection tenting my towel seems to say otherwise. I know I won’t be able to behave like the gentleman my mother raised if I don’t take the problem in hand before our date. I let the towel drop to the floor and wrap my hand around my cock, stroking from root to tip. My eyes fall closed and a vision of Harmony pops into my mind. The shirt she was wearing earlier gaped open when she leaned over the counter, giving me a glimpse of the red lace bra she was wearing beneath.
I imagine her lying on my bed in red underwear, her tan skin shimmering in the lamplight. My hand strokes faster over my length and before I can even imagine her naked or moaning my name, my cum explodes from me.
“Dinner my ass,” I murmur to myself as I clean the mess before going to my closet to grab some clothes. This woman has me twisted in knots and we haven’t even really kissed yet.
I settle on my dark wash jeans, a black Henley, and my black boots. This is the version of me that Harmony knows, and I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not for her. This Draven is enough.
Grabbing my keys, I lock up the little bungalow-style house I bought before moving back. Jumping in my truck, I leisurely drive over to Cake My Life, knowing I am ten minutes early. It’s a force of habit, something I picked up in my early days as a probate.
An upbeat country song plays through the speakers, and I bob my head to the tune as I drive through our sleepy little town.
It takes me a moment to understand what I am looking at when I see black smoke in the general direction of the bakery, and my years of training instantly kick in. There is a fire somewhere downtown. Grabbing my cell, I call the firehouse.
“Kidds Beach Fire Department. How may I direct your call?” a woman answers within the first few rings.
“Arlene, it’s Draven,” I try to keep my voice calm as I speak to the night shift operator. She needs to be able to hear me clearly. “There’s a fire downtown.”
“Shit. Hold on.” I hear the siren go off in the background alerting all available firefighters that they are needed. “Where?” Arlene asks when she returns to our call.
“I’m not sure yet but I’m driving in that direction,” I reply as I take a right turn much faster than I should and my tires squeal loudly. “I’m going to put you on speaker. I’ll shout the address, but I might need to move quickly.”
Tossing the phone on the dash I silently pray that Harmony is fine, but I have a bad feeling about this. When I see the front of the bakery in flames, I curse my gut instinct for always being right.
“It’s Cake My Life,” I say loudly before rushing from my truck.
I know every bit of protocol and I know I should never enter a burning building alone. But I also know that Harmony lives in the apartment above the bakery and she was waiting for me. She is inside and I have to get to her.
From the bed of my truck, I grab the old axe I used to chop some wood yesterday and swing it at the glass door. The glass shatters and the flames press forward. I wait a moment after it breaks, praying the fire will recede and grant me entrance. I hear the siren of my approaching firefighter brothers, but I don’t know how long the fire has been blazing and I am not willing to take the chance.
I should wait for them, but I don’t.
I shouldn’t go into the building, but I do.
I see a gap in the flames and run headfirst into the burning building, praying she is okay.
“Harmony!” I yell as I take the stairs two at a time. Luckily the fire hasn’t spread too far to this side and the structure is still stable. “Harmony!” I can hear the panic in my voice.
“Draven,” I hear her yell back softly through a cough.
“Where are you?” I call as I kick in the door to her apartment. She doesn’t answer and fear threatens to strangle me. “Harmony!”
“I’m in the bathroom.” Her voice is soft and hoarse, and I know it’s from inhaling too much smoke.
I push the door open to find her fully dressed but submerged in a tub full of water. She has a wet towel pressed to her face and if I wasn’t so scared right now, I would be proud. I taught her this when she was in high school and I was still a probate.
“We need to get out of here,” I say as I lift her out of the water, pulling her form tightly against me.
“But the fire!” Terror laces her every word.
“Do you trust me?” She stares at me for a moment before nodding. “I got you.”
Cradling her to my chest I cover as much of her as I can with the wet towel before moving out of the bathroom, down the stairs, and back outside. Firefighters are everywhere, trying to get the blaze under control. A paramedic is parked beside the curb, and I head directly to him, needing to make sure Harmony is okay.
****
Harmony
I smelled the smoke while I was doing my makeup. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but the smell just kept getting stronger, and I was afraid Darla may have forgotten to switch off one of the ovens. Imagine my surprise when I opened the door to find my bakery engulfed in flames.
I quickly shut the door and backtracked to the bathroom. When I was in high school, an old woman a town over died in a house fire because she hid under her bed. I was so sad that she died in such a terrible way and for her family and friends who would never have a chance to say goodbye. A few days later, Draven explained that she probably hadn’t died from being burnt alive but from inhaling all the smoke. He told me exactly what to do if I was ever trapped inside a burning building so I would have the best chance of survival.
At the time I had thought he was insane, but now I couldn’t be more grateful that he had made sure I had this knowledge. I quickly open the faucet to fill the tub and grab all the towels I can find, shoving some into the crack at the bottom of the door. Grabbing my cell phone, I lower my body into the water. Unlocking the screen, I scroll through my contacts until I find Draven’s number. But just as I am about to hit the call button, my trembling hands lose their grip, and the device disappears beneath the water.
“Fuck!” I curse. “What the hell do I do now?”
I’m talking to myself, but I don’t care. If I die tonight, at least the last conversation I have will be an intelligent one. “Don’t panic. Draven is on his way.”
Tears stream down my face as the reality hits me that not only could I die here tonight but I have lost everything—my bakery, my home, my belongings. I have nothing left. Hell, I don’t even own a car.
“Harmony!”
I hear Draven’s voice, and I remove the wet towel from my face.
“Draven!” I call back as hard as I can but my throat hurts.
“Where are you?” he calls but I am struggling to catch my breath. “Harmony!”
His voice sounds panicked. “I’m in the bathroom.”
Soon enough he walks in to find me in the tub. He has soot marks covering his face and arms, but I swear to all that is holy, I have never seen a man more gorgeous than him at the moment.
“We need to get out of here,” he says. Even though I know he is trained for situations like this, panic still sets in.
“But the fire!” I cry out, my terror bleeding into my words.
“Do you trust me?” he asks calmly while looking down at me.
I stare at him for a moment before nodding. How could I not trust him? He says something but I’m not sure what, all I can hear is my heavy breathing. He cradles me to his chest, covering me with one of the wet towels, and before I can even orientate myself, we are outside and he is placing me on a gurney beside an ambulance.
“I don’t know how long she was in there,” Draven says to the Simon, the paramedic, who is already moving around me, grabbing different items he may need. “She may have some smoke inhalation, but she shouldn’t have any burns.”
“Are you sure?” Simon asks. “Why is she soaking wet?”
“I found her in the tub covered in water,” Draven says but his gaze is locked on his fellow firefighters. “I’ll be right back. I need to check if the guys need anything.”
“That was smart,” Simon says to me with a smile. He is new to town but since he arrived six months ago we have always gotten along. Placing the stethoscope on my chest, he listens carefully. “Breathe in deeply, hold for three seconds, and exhale.”
I follow his instructions while staring at Draven as he moves between the other firefighters.
“Who taught you to do that?” Simon asks after listening to my breathing.
I smile and nod in Draven’s direction. “He did. A long time ago.”