Page 7 of The Fire We Crave

“Then why are you?”

He reaches for a glass from the cupboard but immediately retracts his arm and winces. When his T-shirt lifted, I could see there are also dressings on his torso.

I debate all the ways I could explain this. I hate that I’m going to have to be vulnerable if I want to stay. “Because they came at night, Smoke. In the dark. And they set fire to Ember’s bar, at night. If Atom hadn’t been passing through in the early hours of the morning, she would have died in that fire. I don’t want to burn alive.”

Smoke blanches, and, as if on autopilot, touches his dressing.

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry. That was an awful thing to say. I didn’t mean like you…I mean, your friends. I… Shit. I can’t get this out right. I’m?—”

“I get it.” Smoke raises one hand, then winces.

It’s manipulative to lean into what has just happened to him, but it’s not like I don’t want to be in the bakery, it’s that I don’t want to be anywhere other than here. Where I’ve found a modicum of peace. “The way I see it, you have two choices. I leave, take my chances, but if something happens to me, it’ll always be on your conscience.”

“You assume I care.” Smoke shrugs. “And it sounds like something I can live with, given you’re an adult and not my responsibility. What’s my second choice?”

“Your second choice is that you let me stay and I’ll help you.”

Smoke folds his arms across his chest. It’s unfair that he’s so distractingly muscled.

He smirks; it’s mean and lazy. “What the hell would I need your help for?”

“It’s an exchange. I get the benefit of your house being out in the middle of nowhere, and your protection. And you get the benefit of having some help on hand while you recover.” I look back to the hallway where Atom left the canvas bag. “I can do that laundry for you. Hang it to dry outside. Fold it and put it away for you if you tell me where it all goes. I can vacuum and get rid of the dog hair and cook and clean for you.”

Smoke’s smirk slides from his face. He looks around the kitchen like it’s a military assault course filled with hideous obstacles.

“Are you hungry?” I ask. “There’s food in the fridge, and I could pull you something together before I head into the bakery. I felt I should be here when you got back to…” I gesture around the kitchen.

“Face the music?”

“No. To welcome you home.”

Smoke stares at me, and I feel myself melting beneath his gaze.

“Fine. Yes. Face the music,” I say.

“Stop fidgeting,” Smoke says, and I shove my hands into the pockets of my dress.

My cheeks heat with the embarrassment of obeying so easily. In some romance books I read, they say that with one look, the hero can make the heroine do anything.

Suddenly, I understand why.

Except I don’t want to do anything with Smoke. “Stop making me nervous.”

“If you weren’t still here with all your worldly belongings, you’d have nothing to be nervous about.”

“I really am sorry about the fire references,” I blurt.

Smoke sighs. “Fine. Here’s the deal. I’d appreciate help with the household chores while you’re here. Your dog has to stay off the sofa. And you need to stay out of my way.”

“Does that include common spaces in the evening?”

Smoke raises one eyebrow. “There are plenty of spots to sit in this house, so make any of the ones I’m not in yours.”

“Done. I’m not sure Bones is going to listen to the new stay-off-the-sofa rule, though.”

“It’s not a new rule. It’s always been the rule. Again, you arrived and over-stayed your welcome. Had I known a dog was coming with you, I would have told you. So, train him until he gets it. No is a powerful word. Keep trying to negotiate with me and I’ll use it.”

“Fine. Agreed.” I step around the kitchen counter. “I can give you three things with what’s in the fridge: a chicken and bacon BLT, an omelet, or I have homemade tomato soup and could make you a grilled cheese.”

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