All Fired Up (Hometown Heat 1)

I exhale. “I never said that you were!”

“The real reason you kept this from me? Because you’re a coward,” he says, making me flinch. “You didn’t want to deal with how messy things would get if I knew what happened. You were lying for your own good. Not mine.”

I frown up at him, tightening my grip on his arm. “You’re wrong. At first, I wanted to tell you,” I say, pushing on when he rolls his eyes “I did. I swear I did. But the closer we got, the more I realized a clear conscience would come at too high a price. I love you. I want to protect you and make your life better and happier, not bring you more pain. And that’s why I kept the secret. Because I knew the truth would upset you, even though there’s absolutely no reason it should.”

“No reason?” His voice is colder than the frigid air numbing my bare shoulders. “You call getting black out drunk and spending the night with my brother—”

“Fifteen years ago! Fifteen years, Jake.” I widen my eyes, silently pleading with him to see that this is nothing, certainly nothing we can’t get past. “That’s half a lifetime ago. One night half a lifetime ago. It doesn’t matter. We matter. You and me and the life we’re meant to have together.”

“Let me go.” His grip tightens on my wrist. If he squeezes much tighter, I’ll be forced to let him go.

I only have a few more seconds.

One last shot, and everything left to lose.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Naomi

I fight for control, my eyes filling with tears as I reach down into the deepest, truest part of myself. “I can’t let you go, Jake. Don’t you see that?”

This is it.

If I can’t find the right words now, I sense I won’t get another chance.

“I’ve lived the American dream,” I say, praying he’s listening, really listening. “I’ve had more than my ten minutes of fame. I’ve travelled the world and made more money than I ever imagined I could. But I’d give it all up in a heartbeat for this. For us. To build a life and a family with you. You are my dream, and to share the rest of the time I have left with you is all I want. All I’ll ever want.”

His eyes are still shuttered and locked against me, but he’s stopped trying to pull away.

That’s something.

Or so I tell myself as I swallow hard and push on, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I would do anything for you. Anything you ever need, I’m there with bells on, and I know you feel the same way.” I stand up straighter, gathering the last of my courage. “So if you let what we’ve been lucky enough to find slip through your fingers… If you cut me out of your life and walk away without fighting for us…”

My breath shudders out as the tears in my eyes finally slip down my cheeks. “Well, then you’re the coward. And you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” I sniff and add in a whisper, “And so will I.”

He holds my gaze for a long, anxiety filled moment before he suddenly straightens and turns away.

For a heart-wrenching beat, I think I’ve failed, that I’ve pushed too far and he’s going to walk away and never look back. But then his fingers slide from my wrist down to clasp my hand as he asks, “Do you hear a train?”

“I… Yes, I think so,” I say, not sure what to make of the question.

Before I can think of what to say next, Jake curses beneath his breath and turns, breaking into a run.

“Jake? What’s wrong?” I start after him but grind to a stop when I see that he’s circling back around the edge of the bridge, slipping in loose dirt as he slides down the steep embankment and onto the tracks.

“What are you doing?” My heart leaps into my throat and lodges there as I spot the long, dark shadow of the train approaching in the distance. “Jake, get off the tracks! There’s a train coming. I can see it!”

“I will,” he calls back. “But I have to find something first.”

“Find what?” I hurry after him, skidding in the gravel in my heels, almost falling before I regain my balance. “Forget it! Whatever it is, it isn’t worth it.”

“Stay there.” He points a stern finger my way before turning back to scan the ground. “I’ll be fine. I just need a few minutes.”

“You don’t have a few minutes,” I squeak, my pulse racing as I watch him walk in maddeningly slow circles, his attention on the ground instead of the train approaching at full speed, now no more than a few miles away.

Maybe less.

I remember how fast the trains come through here. Back when we were kids, that was part of the fun—kicking your legs over the side of the bridge as the train whizzed past, feeling the rush as it charged beneath your feet.