Page 1 of Steamy Dreamy Hearts

CHAPTER

ONE

CALEB

Nothing like having your ex show up as your plus-one at a wedding.

I would say I couldn’t believe his audacity, but Tanner had always been kind of an insensitive prick with too much self-confidence to believe anyone would dump him for real.

Back in high school, I was the Disney prince and all about the romance. Nobody who knew me then would have predicted I’d become this scarred, self-sabotaging mess, but my on-and-off-again relationship with Tanner had made me insecure. So here I was, avoiding the couples surrounding me and thinking I’d rather be scrubbing floors than here at the “ball” with Gaston.

Resting the bubbling champagne flute on the nearby table, I rubbed at my temples. A headache throbbed behind my right eye. Lately, I dreaded weddings, but I had been faking it rather than disappointing my friends. I was happy for Phin and James for getting married—I was. Love like theirs was rare. I’d never felt that way about Tanner, evenbeforemy accident.

I traced my fingertips over one of my scars, one that traveled halfway down my jaw. No matter how much Tanner apologizedfor freaking out and leaving me then, I couldn’t get past it. I’d woken, screaming with pain, all alone. Tanner took a full month to admit the idea of seeing my burns or having to become my caretaker overwhelmed him. Sure, we were back together, but for how long? The moment I promised him that I’d try, it felt like a bottle of Elmer’s glue had been poured into my heart.

Looking at the bubbling remains of my glass, I picked it up and swallowed in big gulps.

“Caleb?” Tanner called, just as I finished my champagne. I ducked away, glad his view was obstructed by the huge floral centerpieces, and I fled to the nearest escape path. I didn’t want to be an imposter and pose with Tanner all night, but I was also too chicken to confront him.

Phin shot me a puzzled look as I rushed past him and James, and I was relieved he couldn’t ask me why the hell I was back with Tanner again (even if I wasn’t). Not that Phin would believe me. I wouldn’t believe me either.

Hurrying down the long corridor near the front of the country club, I didn’t know where I was going, but I only wanted my getaway. Phin would forgive me for missing the last half of the celebration. I could only tolerate so much joy when I felt so empty. Hell, he’d even encourage my ditching Tanner. Phin made it clear I was crazy to have gone back to him.

Reaching the exit, I placed a hand on the doorknob, the escape in my sights, when a muffled noise coming from a nearby closet stopped me short.

A soft sob. Another.

“Hello?” I paused outside the closet’s door.

“Go away!” a small, tearful voice demanded.

My first-responder instinct kicked into high alert. I might be a romance villain, but my day job was still the same. So, instead of listening, I took a step closer. “Just tell me if you’re hurt?”

“I’m fine,” the girl’s voice choked out.

I hesitated, looking at the front of the building and picturing my car parked just outside. My deep need to escape warred with my former good-guy code.

Carefully, I opened the closet and peered in. It was Erin, my fire captain’s daughter, curled up near some fallen coats, her head down and tucked beneath her arms. It wasn’t ever cold in Phoenix, and no one attending the wedding had arrived with more than suit jackets and light wraps, so why the place even had these coats was a mystery. It smelled old and musty, unused and forgotten.

I slid down to my knees. “I bet your dad’s worried and looking for you. Why are you hiding out here?”

Not that I didn’t get it. I could see the appeal of burrowing into a safe, dark space away from the world.

“If I tell, you have to leave me alone.”

I frowned. Erin was shy whenever she’d visited the firehouse, peeking tentatively at the gear and bright rigs. Captain Smack was always like a hawk, checking on her.

“You can trust me,” I reassured her. “I’m Caleb, remember me? I work with your dad.”

“The other girls were making fun of this.” She raised her head, gesturing to her hair. “And this.” She flashed her missing front teeth. “They called me Jack-o’-Lantern Face.”

I surveyed her hair. It was a bowl cut, which was unfortunate enough, but somebody had added sloppy bangs that hung in all different lengths around her face. Having grown up with sisters, I knew better than to try and argue over what mean girls said. So, I attempted logical persuasion.

“Honey, don’t worry about those girls. They aren’t your real friends—real friends don’t care about your haircut.” My speech only resulted in more sobs. I let her snot-cry for a moment, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “I bet those girls just want to make you feel bad.”

“Why?” She sniffed, wiping at her eyes.

“Who knows? I bet it’s your outfit,” I replied. “You’re dripped out! That sundress and those glitter sneakers—what a total fit.”

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