Warnings and Wildfires

Maddy strolls up to the front counter, watching me with curious eyes for a few seconds before pivoting toward her uncle.

“Uncle Jake! You’re supposed to teach me some moves,” Maddy says, twirling, chopping, and kicking the air.

“Since when do you want to learn anything?” Sully teases.

“Uncle Jake will make it fun, not work,” she sasses back, making me smother a laugh. Even Maddy knows Sully is the serious instructor at Strike Back.

“Let’s go, princess,” Jake hollers. He points toward the smaller workout room and she scampers over.

Then I’m alone with Sully and his mother. Maybe being scrutinized by a twelve-year-old isn’t so bad.

Mrs. Wallace moves closer and gives me a friendly smile. What has Sully said about me? Oh my God, does she recognize me from sneaking out of her son’s house in the wee hours of the morning a bunch of days this week?

“I hope you don’t mind that we stopped by?” she says softly. At first, I think she’s apologizing to Sully, but she’s facing me.

“Oh. No. Of course not.”

I finally find some courage and smile at her. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

She’s a pretty woman. Sully has her hair and strong bone structure. That’s when I notice the dullness in her left eye. Is she partially blind? Heat crawls up my neck and I avert my gaze. Now I feel stupid. Did I stare too long? I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. God, my palms are so sweaty.

“Is my son treating you well?” she asks.

“Very. I mean yes. I like him…I mean I like the job a lot.” Oh my God, stop talking, Aubrey!

Her mouth tips into a knowing smile as if to say ‘I know you’re dating him.’ It’s not unkind, though. More like relief.

I glance at Sully and he’s smiling. As if this is normal and he’s thrilled to have all of us in one place.

The front door opens, saving me from embarrassing myself any more.

Until I realize who decided to stop by.

Celia’s gaze pings from me, to Sully, to his mother and back to me.

“Hey, Celia,” Sully calls, waving her over. “Good to see you again.”

He makes the introductions while I stand there willing my body to melt into the floor.

“What’s up?” I ask Celia. Not even the offer to use my employee discount brings her into the coffee shop to visit me as frequently as she’s shown up here.

“Nothing. It was a slow afternoon. I helped the girls clean up, then jetted out. Thought I’d take you to dinner when you’re done.”

It’s not that we don’t go out to dinner from time to time, but it’s still suspicious.

“Sure.” My gaze strays to Sully. “I’m done in about an hour.”

“Whoa! I guess it’s family day at Strike Back,” Jake calls out. “Hi, Celia.”

Celia throws me a desperate I’m sorry look before giving Jake a cool greeting.

He wanders over with Madison who tries to pull a sneak attack on Sully. He turns at the last second and catches her, grabbing her and swinging her around, mushing kisses on her cheek. “You think after a few lessons with your uncle means you can sneak up on me? Huh?” he teases.

Maddy giggles uncontrollably while Sully flings her around. “Stop! Gross!” she yells in between more wild giggles.

Just when I thought he couldn’t get any more irresistible.

He steadies her and points her toward my sister. “Madison, this is Aubrey’s sister, Celia.”

“Do you work here too?”

My sister is immediately charmed by Maddy. Not a surprise, after all, she has more experience with younger kids than I do.

“No, I’m a hair stylist at a salon in the mall.”

“The fancy one or the five-dollar cuts one?” Jake asks.

Celia barely throws him a look. “Not the five-dollar one.”

“I’ll have to stop in.” He pats his head and smirks at Sully. “I’ve been told I’m in need of a new stylist.”

“You’re in need of something,” Sully growls.

By the small smile flickering over her lips, Mrs. Wallace seems amused. “I have an idea. Why don’t you girls come over for dinner?”

“Oh, no. I don’t want to—” I start to say, only to be cut off by Maddy.

She bops up and down. “Yes! Grandma makes the best buttermilk fried chicken.” She glances at her grandmother. “That’s what we’re having, right? It’s Sunday.”

“If you want to do that, then we have to go home and start now,” she warns.

“Okay.”

My “I-don’t-want-to-intrude” attempt to get out of dinner is cut off by my own sister.

“That sounds delicious. Thank you so much, Mrs. Wallace,” Celia says.

Traitor.

“Can we bring anything?” I ask.

“Nope. Just yourselves.” Mrs. Wallace places her hands on Madison’s shoulders and steers her toward the back door.

“Later!” Madison calls out.

Sully’ chuckles as he watches them go. “Be good and help Grandma,” he calls out. From his tone of voice and the emotion in his eyes, it’s obvious how much he loves his mother and his daughter.

Two hours later, my sister’s dragging me out of the car and up Mrs. Wallace’s front porch steps.

I smooth my hands over the skirt of the black and white dress my sister forced me into when we stopped home.

She smacks my hands away from their human iron impression. “Stop fidgeting.”

“Are you sure this looks okay? I feel like I’m trying too hard.”

“You look sweet and wholesome.”

I cock my head and let out a dry laugh. “Like I said.”

She rolls her eyes and pushes me up the sidewalk.

“Smile, pumpkin,” she prods after knocking on the door.

“I am smiling.”

“You look like you’re headed to the dentist.”

“I blame you for this,” I hiss.

“Daddy!” Madison yells as she opens the door. “Aubrey and Celia are here!”

She opens the door wider, inviting us inside. “They’re in the kitchen.”

“Thanks.”

I don’t know what to do. Am I supposed to make small talk with her? I wish I’d brought something. What do twelve-year-old girls like? I was one once, so I feel like I should know.

Celia elbows me in the ribs, nudging me along while Maddy flops on the couch and returns to whatever she’s watching on television.

“Welcome!” Mrs. Wallace says.

The spicy, warm scents and sizzling from the kitchen remind me that I haven’t eaten in a few hours. My stomach growls loud enough that Celia glances over.

Jake’s at the counter opposite his mother, chopping vegetables.

Celia stops dead, mouth hanging open. “You cook?”

He winks and flashes a cocky grin. “I have lots of talents, sweetheart.”

“Jacob Cordero Wallace. Behave,” Mrs. Wallace warns.

Celia and I titter with laughter while Jake grins. “Yes, mother.”

She swats him with a dish towel which only makes him laugh harder.

“How was the rest of the afternoon?” she asks.

“Okay,” I answer lamely. I wish I’d brought a gift. Instead of running home to change, I should’ve grabbed some flowers or something.

“Aubrey, would you please hand me that jar?” she asks, pointing to something on the counter.

The request startles me out of my stupor and I hand it over without embarrassing myself further.

A heavy, warm hand slides up my back, landing on my shoulder. “Hey,” Sully says against my ear. “Thanks for coming.”

I turn slightly, almost catching his lips for a kiss, but pull back at the last minute. Now’s not the time. “Thanks for having us.”

He squeezes my shoulder again, his thumb gently rubbing the tension gathered in my neck. “Relax,” he murmurs. “Or she’ll start firing off questions.”

&nbs

p; Maybe it’s silly, but his warning helps me relax.

All of this is perfectly normal, right?

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“You look pretty,” I whisper in Aubrey’s ear.

She glances down and fidgets with the dress. “I wish I’d gotten something for your mom instead.”

I’m not sure what she means exactly, but it doesn’t take a genius to see how freaked out she is. Guilt nags at me. I hadn’t planned on family dinner so soon. Maybe she should’ve had more time to get comfortable with the idea. “You don’t need to bring anything here,” I assure her. “She’s really just happy to have more people to feed.”

Next to us, Celia snorts. “We’re not used to that.” She elbows her sister and Aubrey shoots a warning look at her.

“Is there something we can do, Mrs. Wallace?” Celia asks.

Mom nods to the cabinets behind me. “Set the table, please. Sullivan can show you where the dishes are.”

I take down the plates and glasses they need, show them where the silverware is, and then excuse myself to see what Maddy’s up to.