Josie shrugged. “We’re still in negotiation.”
“You’re getting married in six months, Josie.” Chelsea was already sitting outside in one of the cushioned chairs, cradling her beautiful baby daughter, Audrey, who looked so much like Chelsea, it was uncanny. “Don’t you think you two should have decided on that by now? Maybe put one of the houses up for sale?”
“She’s stubborn.” Zach came outside and put his arm around Josie’s shoulder. “She knows she wants to live here.”
Josie lifted her chin. “I like my house. It’s in a cute neighborhood, and it’s right down the street from Chelsea and Bash’s house.”
“This is true,” Chelsea said. “Plus, she’s promised to babysit.”
“Audrey would love it out here,” Zach said. “Wouldn’t she, Bash?”
“I’m not getting in the middle of this back-and-forth.” Bash scooped his daughter out of Chelsea’s arms. “But we’re always up for volunteer babysitters, no matter where they live.”
The door opened, and Jane and Will and their kids came pouring out. “Hey, it’s beautiful out here,” she said. “Nice job.”
It was a perfect late-spring day, and Josie was so happy to see all her friends arrive. Jane had given birth to her and Will’s son, James, only two months ago.
“Where’s the baby?” she asked.
“Asleep in his car seat in the living room,” Jane said.
“How are you doing?”
“Sleep deprived, but loving every second of having a baby around again. Plus, Tabitha and Ryan are great helpers, and Will is a champion diaper changer. I hardly have to do a thing.”
Josie laughed. “I imagine that’s not true.”
“Okay, I have to do a lot of things, but it’s magical having this baby, Josie.”
Her heart squeezed. “I’m happy for you.”
Before long, all their friends had arrived. They might still be negotiating on where to live, but the one thing she did love about Zach’s place was the huge backyard.
Okay, she loved a lot of things about Zach’s place, including his magnificent kitchen. She’d wanted to cook up all kinds of things for the engagement party, but Zach had insisted they have it catered. Josie had said it was ridiculous, but he had pressed until she’d given in.
He’d won that battle. She’d won when he’d argued about wanting to have some big fancy engagement party at a restaurant and she’d insisted they make it a backyard barbecue instead so everyone’s kids could come.
Jeff and Jillian’s engagement party a month ago had been a big country-club event. It had been stylish and fancy and oh so fun. And Jillian had loved it. Mainly because Jillian loved Jeff.
But that kind of thing wasn’t Josie’s style. It wasn’t what Zach wanted, either, even though he thought that was what she might want.
This was her happy place. Relaxed, with everyone dressed down, kids invited, and Zach’s dog, Wilson, running around the backyard with Chelsea and Bash’s dog, Lou.
It was perfect.
And once she found out that Paul Fine and his mother worked for the catering company Zach had proposed hiring, she was all for having the event catered. Not only had Laurel Fine dumped her husband, Jimmy, but she’d also started working for an amazing catering company in Hope. The difference it had made in Paul had been tremendous. His grades had skyrocketed, and his entire attitude had changed. She’d been so happy for him and for his mother.
And she had to admit she was happy she didn’t have to worry about cooking tonight. It was better to be outside visiting with her friends than stuck in the kitchen. Or out at some restaurant where she wouldn’t be able to talk to everyone.
This was more comfortable. Plus, she was a big fan of barbecued chicken, and she doubted that would have been on the menu at a fancy restaurant.
She smiled as she saw Lauren unwrapping the food and waved to Paul as he set up tables. She wouldn’t interfere with their work, but she wanted to at least say hello.
“Hi, Lauren,” Josie said.
“Ms. Barnes. It’s very nice to see you.”
“Things going well for you?”
“Very well, thanks.”
“You look great, Lauren.” She wanted to tell her that kicking out her deadbeat husband agreed with her, but that would have been inappropriate. Still, it did totally agree with her. She looked vibrant and young and absolutely happy.
“Thank you.” Lauren beamed a bright smile.
Zach was in the middle of a conversation with Paul—about football, no doubt. After going on to win state last year, Zach was even more popular in Hope, especially with the football crowd.
“Hi, Paul,” she said as she walked by, not wanting to interrupt their conversation.
“Ms. Barnes.” Paul smiled and nodded.
He looked a lot happier than he ever had before, too. Sometimes getting rid of someone who was bad for you made all the difference.
She knew that feeling.
Hours later, the house and backyard were filled with everyone she and Zach cared about. And Josie was thrilled. The food had been delicious, and she was content to have a glass of wine in her hand to make the rounds.
“You know, you could move here.”
She leaned back against her mother, who’d put her arms around her. “I could. It’s a nice place. But I like my place, too, Mom.”
“Sometimes you just have to give in. Plus, this house is big enough to raise some babies in, Josie.”
She sighed and turned to face her mother, who looked better than Josie could have ever hoped. Her mom had come through rehab clean and sober and had decided to stay in Hope. She’d gotten a job at Megan’s bakery and discovered a love for baked goods, occupying her time with baking instead of hunting down her next fix. She’d put on some weight, found herself an apartment she liked, and had even made a few friends she’d met at the bakery. And she’d started painting again.
She looked lighthearted, and Josie was delighted for her. More important, they had cautiously started to carve out a relationship the past few months. Josie knew it was going to take time to completely trust her mother. Her mom knew that, too. But they had had long talks about taking each day as a new start.
“I could use some grandbabies, you know,” her mom said.
“That’ll come in time, Mom.”
Zach came up and put his arms around both of them. “What are we talking about?”
“Grandchildren, Zach,” her mom said. “I need grandchildren.”
“Hey, I’m ready to start having kids anytime your daughter is.”
Josie offered up a smile. “Let’s get through the wedding first. Then we’ll see about those babies.”
“I’m going to go see about getting some more iced tea,” her mom said, leaving the two of them alone on the back porch.
“Babies, huh?” he asked.
She sighed and laid her head against his chest. “Yes.”
“First you’d have to actually live with me full-time.”
She moved away and smacked his arm. “We spend almost every night together.”
“Yeah, and it’s like a commuter lifestyle. You’re either packing an overnight bag to stay here, or Wilson and I are packing up to stay over there. That’s not a way to start a life together.”
She knew he was right.
“Come on. Tumbles and Arthur will love it here.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “What if I asked you to come live with me at my place, even though it’s smaller? Would you do that? Seriously.”
He looked down at her. “Yes.”
She believed him. She knew he loved her and he’d do anything for her. She’d been the one who’d been hesitant about fully committing to moving in with him. He’d been so patient with her all these months.
“I’ll put my house up for sale on Monday,” she said.
“Only if that’s what you want, Josie.”
She grasped his shirt and tugged him close. “What I want—what I’ve always w
anted—is you.”
He slid his arm around her. “You’ve got me. Always and forever.”
He kissed her and sealed the deal.
READ ON FOR A SPECIAL EXCERPT FROM
THE FIRST BOOK IN JACI BURTON’S NEW
BROTHERHOOD BY FIRE ROMANCE SERIES
ABOUT FIREFIGHTERS.
Hot to the Touch
COMING SOON FROM BERKLEY
Prologue
August 2005
THEY’D BEEN LUCKY to find this abandoned piece of junk so they could have a roof over their heads during the storm. Jackson was on lookout tonight, because you never knew who might be prowling for space, or the cops might come and bust them, and the last thing they needed was to be dragged back into some shitty foster home worse than the last one.
Foster homes were a crapshoot. Sometimes you got lucky and they were decent. More often than not you got people who were in it for the money, or the system was so overburdened with kids that you ended up shuffled from one home to another and you couldn’t even remember anyone’s names. And they sure as hell didn’t remember yours. And then you got the mean ones. At fifteen, Jackson could handle himself. Rafe was getting there at thirteen, but Kal was only twelve. As the oldest, it was Jackson’s responsibility to look out for the younger ones. His brothers. Not by blood, but they were still his brothers.
No, they were better off on their own, where they had one another’s backs and no one could ever hurt them again.
Tonight they’d gotten lucky and had a place to sleep out of the rain. They’d scored a whole pizza some jerkoff had left uneaten on his back porch while he fought with his girlfriend, so they had full bellies. Rafe and Kal were asleep on the floor in another room while Jackson stood watch. He gazed out the living room window of the old beach house, admiring the lightning arcing across the Atlantic Ocean.
He looked away from the water, scanning the street out front to make sure it was still clear. Because of the rain, no one was wandering around, which made him feel more secure.
Not that he could ever feel completely safe. Not when you lived like they did.
He pushed off the wall to walk around. Lots of windows in this place. He’d bet it was killer when the sun was out. But tonight, the rain made it cold, so they’d shut all the windows earlier. His boots creaked on the worn wood floor. As he moved from room to room, he could imagine a family with a couple of kids and maybe a dog running this joint. They’d probably have nice furniture, some cushy-looking couch where they’d all cuddle together and read at night.
Or at least that’s how he thought it went with families. In his head, anyway. It had never gone that way with his family—at least not that he’d remembered, so what did he know? Anyway, this was a decent beach house, and maybe someday it would get fixed up. Or maybe torn down. But tonight, it was their shelter. Having made a circuit of the first floor, he returned to the living room and sat down in the corner. He leaned back against the wall and settled in.
* * *
JACKSON WOKE UP coughing, something burning his lungs so badly, he couldn’t breathe. He tried to open his eyes, but when he did, they burned.
He fought to suck in air, found his voice so he could call out for Rafe and Kal. They didn’t answer. His stomach tightened as he saw flames lick up the wall across the room.
Oh shit. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want his brothers to be dead. Tears pricked his eyes as he tried to see through the thick, black smoke. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees, trying to remember where the door was, what room the boys were sleeping in. Had they been right next to him, or had he moved into another room? His brain was fuzzy, and he couldn’t remember.
He coughed, the smoke entering his lungs with every breath he took. He pulled his raggedy T-shirt over his mouth, trying to stifle the smoke. He had to get to Rafe and Kal. He was the oldest. It was his job to save them.
He called out to them, rasping out a cough with every few words. But he kept at it. They had to hear him. If he could hear them, he could get to them. Then they’d figure a way out. Because no way were they dying in this piece-of-shit building today.
Finally, he heard voices. The sound was faint, but he wasn’t imagining it. He’d definitely heard it. It was them. It had to be them. Which meant they were alive. He crawled toward the sound, his own voice hoarse as he yelled out in response.
“I’m here! I’m on my way to get you.” The smoke grew thicker, and he could feel himself slipping away, but sheer determination kept him conscious. He was their brother. They’d been through so much together, had survived so much together. This fire wasn’t going to get them.
When he saw the light and the tall shadow looming over him, he thought maybe it was too late. He was dead, and this was some dark angel come to take him away. But then strong arms scooped him up.
“It’s okay, buddy,” the dark angel said. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
Jackson shook his head and gripped the angel’s arm, barely able to stay conscious. “My … my brothers.”
“They’re safe, too. They’re outside. Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
Jackson sighed in relief and let himself fall into the darkness.
Chapter 1
* * *
Present Day
JACKSON DONOVAN WAS having the best dream of his life. It involved his favorite spot on the beach, a spectacular blonde in a barely-there bikini, and hot sex on a Jet Ski. He was just about to maneuver her onto his lap while they were simultaneously bouncing across the waves, because, hey, in a dream anything was possible, when a loud noise sent him jolting off the sofa in the firehouse.
He’d thought it was the firehouse alarm, so he was instantly alert.
“Calm down,” Rafe said, not even looking up from the video game he was playing. “Just Richardson dropping shit in the kitchen.”
Jackson blinked, that sweet dream vanishing instantly. He rubbed his eyes and stretched. “Oh. Okay.”
“So, good dream?” Rafe asked, grinning as he kept his attention on the TV.
Now that he knew he didn’t have to gear up, Jackson leaned back in the chair. “None of your business.”
Kallan, his other brother, laughed. “That means it was about a girl.”
Sometimes, working with his brothers was great. Other times, it was annoying because they knew him too well.
They’d been together for longer than Jackson could remember. Jackson had hit the streets at twelve. He’d hooked up with Rafe when he was thirteen, Rafe being a little under two years younger than he was. They’d picked up Kallan when the kid was ten and he’d been beaten up and kicked out by his stepfather. After that, the three of them had been inseparable. They might not be real brothers, but they had all shared similar circumstances. And all those years they’d lived on the streets, they’d looked out for one another, had one another’s backs, and had vowed to never be separated.
Which didn’t mean his brothers weren’t a constant pain in the ass.
“You three intending to spend this shift sitting on your asses?”
Jackson looked up to see their father, Battalion Chief Josh Donovan, glaring down at them. Off duty he was loving and protective and fun. Everything Jackson had always wanted in a father. Off duty he was Dad. The guy who’d saved their lives that night in the house fire.
And the man who’d adopted them, as had his wife, Laurel. Their mom.
But on shift? On shift he was their battalion chief—demanding and strict. He expected a lot of every firefighter who worked at the station. His own kids got no preferential treatment.
“No, sir,” Kallan said, giving their father the respect he was due.
“Good. Because the fridge smells like something died in there. Go investigate.”
“Oh, come on, Chief,” Kallan said. “Let the probies do that.”
Dad shot Kal a look that said there’d be no argument. Kal sighed. “Yes, sir. I’m right on it.”
And just at
that moment, the alarm went off. It looked like there’d be no cleaning the fridge—at least not until after the call they were headed out to.
They all ran out to the engine room. Jackson put on his bunker pants and jacket, grabbed the rest of his gear, and climbed into the truck. Despite having been on this engine for the past seven years, he felt a thrill every time he heard the sirens, every time the engine roared out of the house. The sounds and vibrations filled him with a sense of belonging, of knowing that this was right where he was supposed to be.
And all those years he lived on the streets, he never thought he’d feel this way.
The night that firefighter Josh Donovan rescued him and Rafe and Kal from that house fire changed his life. Changed all their lives.
“Dude, you even listening?” Rafe asked.
He blinked. “What?”
“You dreaming about that girl again?”
Jackson shook his head. “No. Just thinking.”
“No wonder you looked so pained.”
He glared at his brother. “Fuck off.”
This was one of those times he was glad both of his brothers weren’t on the same truck with him.
They arrived at a strip shopping center near the beach. Smoke poured out of the open door of a tattoo shop named Skin Deep.
“No flames visible,” Jackson said as they pulled up in front of the building.
They jumped out and immediately went to work, gearing up with their SCBA and regulators so they could breathe through the smoke. Jackson was first in, calling out to see whether anyone was inside.
They didn’t see anyone outside, and the door was open. Hopefully no one was in here.
But then he heard the sound. It was faint, but he heard it.
Coughing. That thick cough that came from breathing in smoke. He knew that sensation all too well. Even though it had been fourteen years, he could still remember what it had felt like to breathe in that smoke, to not be able to take in a breath of fresh air. He remembered the overpowering panic. He never wanted to experience it again. He never wanted anyone else to feel it, either.