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Chapter 15
“Ilove you.”
Blake had only meant to whisper it. She had just looked so beautiful that morning, dozing by his side, her naked body covered only up to her waist. He had a chance to study the freckles, the small tattoos—mostly flowers—and the gentle softness of her skin in peace.
It was the first night Blake had stayed over at her home; after their lovemaking in the basement last night, a physical I’m-sorry-for-being-an-ass-sometimes conversation that enriched his soul, neither could find a way to say good night. So, they carried on up to her bedroom, quiet as mice so as not to wake Hayley, and made love again until the wee hours of the morning.
He’d woken up before his alarm—the nighttime habits of a man who worked a rotating schedule in the ER now that the college semester was coming to an end. Who knows what things would be like come summer, but Blake was always alert these days, always awake the moment he opened his eyes. He hadn’t the heart to rouse her, even though it had taken everything he had not to smother her with kisses and take her one last time before they both started their separate days. If Blake could have it his way, they’d wake up like this every day; just in a larger home with a master bedroom for them and a large room for Hayley to grow up in—and maybe a bedroom for one more.
Staring down at his fated mate, his inner bear content at last, the words had just slipped out. They were supposed to be a whisper. She wasn’t supposed to hear them. Yet from the way her lips curled into a knowing smile, he knew right away that whisper had failed him.
Fear tore through him, fear that she might panic, might scoot out of bed and hide herself away to process the big L-bomb in private. After all, they’d only been dating a couple of months. To Blake, Tanith Ravenna was his forever. To Tanith, Blake might very well have just been a good man to date while she went through a tough time.
“I love you too,” she mumbled sleepily, cracking one eye open and grinning. “This is a really nice way to start my day.”
Blake captured her lips in a hard, desperate closed-mouth kiss, fingers working through his mate’s punky green hair. She wasn’t traditional. She wasn’t normal. She had baggage and issues and fears—like anyone else, really. And Blake loved her with all his heart.
“I’d like to start every day like this if I could,” he whispered, a hand skimming her back and curving over the swell of her hip. She giggled as he rolled her onto her back, easily settling between her thighs. “With you…I’d do it for the rest—” Of my life. The words were silenced by the shrill cry of Tanith’s phone.
“Oh, shoot,” she hissed, squirming out from under him and reaching over him to her night stand. The very roomy king-sized bed had more than enough space for them to sleep comfortably apart, but they’d been touching all night. With Tanith sprawled over top of him, his cock stirred to attention by her warm naked figure, Blake wanted to keep the trend going.
“Who could be calling this early?” she snapped, though he knew her tone came from not wanting to wake Hayley up—that ringtone was piercing. “Hello?”
At first she seemed to enjoy his playful caresses, his somewhat juvenile effort to make her giggle as he tickled her sides and trailed a finger over her erect nipple. However, when her face fell, when something shifted in her tone, Blake stopped. Instantly, his inner bear sat up, alert to his mate’s subtle signs of distress. It was only then he heard something in the distance through her half-open window. Sirens.
Sirens in Angel Fire were rare once. These days, Blake heard them all too often, and when Tanith hung up the phone a few minutes later—by then she had started to pace at the foot of her bed—he knew nothing good could have come from that phone call.
“What is it?” he asked, already half out of bed and ready to protect her through whatever she might have to face. She said nothing. Just stared, blankly, numbly even, with her phone gripped tight in hand. Blake hurried forward, but stopped just short of grasping her arms. “Tanith? What’s going on?”
He caught her just as her knees buckled, but she wasn’t down for long. With a hand on the bed’s footboard, she tore free from his cautious embrace and started yanking open drawers. Getting dressed. Blake did the same, grabbing yesterday’s clothes from the pile they’d left by the door, not wanting Hayley to find either them or a naked Blake that morning by accident.
He tried again as she was tugging on a pair of galaxy-themed leggings that didn’t match her neon green shift dress. “Tanith, what’s happening? Who was on the phone?”
“The gallery,” she choked.
Outside, the sirens screamed louder, and he nodded. She didn’t say another word about it as they darted out her bedroom, Tanith hastily dialing Trudy’s number, Blake getting his things ready, car keys in hand.
Tanith didn’t need to say another word about it. As he stood on her front steps, listening to the wail of the sirens, he knew exactly what they were about to walk into.
Tragedy.
Tragedy, moments after dropping the L-bomb.
Typical.
***
Her gallery was engulfed in flames.
Blake had to hold her back as soon as they arrived on the scene, his tires screeching to a halt as she all but leapt out of his Jeep prematurely. She couldn’t help it. Seeing all the fire trucks, the jet streams of blue-white water bathing the building as flames licked their way out of the broken windows—it was like seeing her child in danger. Instinct kicked in. She needed to rescue, to protect. Yes, her real baby was safe from harm, at home with Trudy, but her work baby, her career baby, her dream baby, was shrouded in smoke.
“Let go of me!”
“They’ll tackle you as soon as you cross that line,” he argued, dragging her away from the flashing lights of the firetrucks. “You just need to let them do their job.”
Her eyes, wide as dish plates, bounced around, unable to focus on one thing in particular. “I need to do something!”
“Sweetheart, you can’t.”
When Maida’s name had flashed across her phone that morning, Tanith had initially thought it was a butt-dial. She had answered just to shut the damn thing up, still struggling to grasp the nuances of her cell phone despite owning it for over two years now. Much to her surprise, a very present, very panicked Maida had been on the other line, and she cut straight to the chase: the gallery was on fire.
Two crowds had formed on either side of the building. The larger of the two were all the apartment residents living in the complex on top of her gallery. Even in her frantic state, she could acknowledge that she was happy no one appeared injured, despite the presence of two ambulances, their lights going but their sirens muted.
The other crowd was just onlookers—local Angel Fire merchants and residents, all those who were up before seven for work, school, a morning jog. They all watched, whispering to one another, their horror plain, as fire consumed her baby. Her gallery. Her life’s dream. Her life’s savings. On fire.
Burning.
Dying.
Tanith suddenly found she couldn’t stand anymore. She sagged in Blake’s arms, and he quickly moved her back to a clear space along the sidewalk, where she sat on the curb and sobbed into her fists—devastated.
