Chapter 9
THE TICKLE OF ROWEN’S
rhythmic breathing against Heather’s cheek lulled her into a magical world where little girls found their knight in shining armor, and they rode off into the sunset to live a peaceful life filled with…
Yeah, because fairytales came true.
Life wasn’t a fairytale.
With that thought, she knew Rowen certainly was a prince. He’d been the most unselfish lover she’d ever had. He made her feel more like a woman than any man she’d ever dated.
She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She had no idea how she’d feel in the morning, but she wasn’t going to ask Rowen to leave. Sleeping with a man all night hadn’t been something she thought much of, especially since she hadn’t anticipated on wanting to have sex with one anytime soon.
Oh, and how concerned he’d been about being on top of her. Oy. Yep. Prince. Knight in shining armor.
But was he hers?
She pushed the idea right out of her mind and focused on drifting off into a peaceful sleep.
Her mind pulled in all sorts of sweet images from fields of lilacs to the hum of an engine on the lake. She had no idea how long she'd slept, but a loud siren screeched from across the room, jolting her from a dream where she and Rowen walked the beach hand in hand.
“Fuck,” Rowen muttered as he jumped from the bed.
She’d pulled the covers to her chin, her body trembling from the unwanted noise. “What the hell is that?” She blinked her eyes, focusing on the clock across the room. The glow of the red numbers, five o three, cast an eerie light on the dresser.
Ugh. More than an hour before she needed to get up.
“Work.” Rowen managed to turn off the hideous noise, then sat back down on the edge of the bed. “My phone is always set to silence at night, except for the department. I have to go in. There’s a four-alarm fire and they need all hands-on deck.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not.” He twisted his torso, leaning toward her, giving her a quick kiss. “I’m sorry, honey. I have to go.”
“I understand.” She admired his toned body as he quickly gathered his clothes and dressed. She might have understood, but she didn’t want him to go. “Can you text or call me later, just so I know you’re okay?” Well, crap, that sounded like a ball and chain thing to say.
“Promise.” He yanked his shirt down, tucking it into his pants. “It might not be for a while, but as soon as I can, I’ll text you.” He sat on the edge of the bed, looping his strong arms around her. “Don’t worry.”
“Right, because running into a burning building isn’t dangerous at all.”
He kissed her temple. “I’ll be safe. Talk to you soon.”
She clutched the sheet up to her chin as she watched him disappear from her bedroom. There was no point in going back to sleep, but she didn’t want to get out of bed, considering it still smelled like Rowen. Turning on the television, she inhaled the musky, masculine scent. The idea of taking a shower, and washing him off her body didn’t appeal to her at all. She wanted him to linger on her forever.
Nothing on the television interested her, so she let out a long sigh and got out of bed and blushed, realizing she was still naked, she’d slept naked next to Rowen all night.
Naked.
She spent the next hour going through her normal routine, though nothing felt normal anymore. Not that it felt abnormal, just things had changed.
Maybe in a good way.
The coffeepot gurgled the last few drops of the bitter liquid. She poured a cup, staring out the window. The neighborhood kids lined the street, waiting for the school bus. Their parents huddled in their own group, carrying travel mugs or newspapers…or both.
A knock at the back door startled her. She glanced over her shoulder to see Elizabeth with her arms folded over her middle, and she rocked back and forth.
Heather rushed to the back and swung open the door. “What’s wrong?”
“Have you been watching the news?” Elizabeth asked.
“No, why?”
“There’s a fire at Grovemann’s Tower in the West End Plaza.”
Heather’s heart skipped a beat. “Rowen was called to a four alarm at about five this morning.”
Elizabeth arched a brow. “And how exactly do you know this?”
Heather’s cheeks burned. She could only hope that her face hadn’t turned beat red. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“Changing the subject only tells me either Rowen spent the night here, or you spent the night there.” Elizabeth glanced around. “Where’s the nearest television. Right before I came here I saw Rowen on the news.”
“Really?” Heather poured Elizabeth a cup before making her way into the family room and turning on the news.
“The fire, now a five alarm, has spread through three buildings,” the newscaster said.
Heather sat on the armrest of the sofa, eyes glued to the screen, searching for any signs of Rowen. “Was he being interviewed or something?” she asked.
“No. Just saw him in the background.” Elizabeth sat next to her on the edge of the sofa. “He had run by the newscaster, shouting something, then turned back toward the building.”
Heather gasped, leaning closer to the television as the newscaster continued to report on the severity of the situation.
Boom!
Pow!
The screen turned a fiery orange as the newscaster and camera man blurred out of focus. The lens of the camera dropped to the ground.
“Oh my God,” Heather whispered, her lungs seeming to collapse, unable to hold any oxygen as she watched the fiery explosion toss rubble into the air.
Agonizing seconds ticked by while the newscaster and his crew reassembled.
Elizabeth held onto Heather’s hand so hard, she thought her bones might crack. Grateful for the support, she didn’t say a word and absorbed the bit of pain.
“I need to get my phone.” Heather set her mug on the coffee table and raced to the kitchen, snagging her phone off the table.
No message from Rowen.
As if he’d have time to text her.
God, she hoped he hadn’t been inside that building.
She sat back down on the sofa, leaning forward, balancing precariously on the edge of the cushion.
“As you can see behind me, one of the buildings has collapsed. We don’t know if anyone, including first responders, were inside,” the reporter said.
“Rowen,” Heather whispered, crossing her fingers.
“He’s fine, I’m sure of it.” Elizabeth patted her leg.
Heather sent Rowen a text, even though she knew it would be a long time before he got it, much less responded.
Behind the newscaster, firefighters raced around, carrying hoses and other equipment, pointing at the building and yelling, though she couldn’t make out they were saying.
“Rowen’s been in bigger fires than this,” Elizabeth said in her reassuring, motherly tone. “I remember one about a year ago that took a long time to get in control and not a single injury. Quite impressive.”
“I have to get into the office,” she said softly, not wanting to peel her eyes from the television. She clutched her phone, her only lifeline to Rowen, hoping it would vibrate soon.
“Alright.” Elizabeth stood. “Let’s stay in touch as much as possible.”
Heather nodded. “When he left this morning, I understood he was going to a fire, and I worried, but I never thought… never considered…”
“We never do.” Elizabeth pulled her in for a brief hug. “When you get done at work, and if Rowen isn’t back, I insist on you coming over for dinner, okay?”
Heather found herself nodding, accepting the invitation. A minute after Elizabeth left, Heather still stared at her phone.
Nothing. No message.
No text.
The man had a job to do, and texting her in the middle of a five alarm fire had to be the last thing on his mind.
The day ahead promised to drag on at an agonizingly slow pace.
***
Between patients, Heather did her best to keep up with the news about the fire, but there hadn’t been an updat since three in the afternoon, reporting the fire had been brought under control and suggesting it would be completely out within in the hour.
But what worried her more, was the report of at least five injured firemen having been rushed to the hospital.
Still no text from Rowen.
She’d sent him off that morning, feeling like an overprotective worry-wart, which would probably be a total turn off for him. He risked his life every day to ensure safety for his community. Sacrifice had been rooted in his soul. It’s who he was, not what he was.
Her last patient and her staff had left. All she had to do now was a bit of paperwork and she’d be able to head home. She sat behind her desk with a stack of files, one open. She gasped at the vibration of her phone.
Rowen’s name and image flashed on the screen.
If he was texting, he was okay.
She picked up the phone, swiping on the text message.
Rowen: Sorry it’s taken all day. Difficult fire. I’m okay. Just left the hospital visiting with some buddies who got caught inside when a building collapsed. They're okay. I’m okay. Will be home in twenty.
She glanced at her watch. Five-fifteen.
Heather: So glad you’re okay and hope your buddies’ injuries are mild. Watched things unfold on television and have been worried sick. Dinner at the Easton’s. They insist. See you there.
She hit send, almost wishing she hadn’t. It sounded too couple-ish. Only, she wouldn’t mind being Rowen’s other half. The vibration in her hands from her phone startled her.
Rowen: Not surprised they insisted. Okay. I can do that if you’re coming with me. Really sorry it took all day to let you know I was okay.
Wow. Just wow.
Part of her had wanted to jump up and down that he had been concerned about her feelings. Another part of her wanted to shrug it off.
She chose to straddle the middle.
Heather: Don’t worry about it. I understand. I’ll see you at the Easton’s.
She set her phone down, thinking that would be the end of it. Well, she was wrong.
Rowen: If it’s okay with you, I’d like us to go over together. I’d like a little time alone with you.
Double wow. She gulped.
Heather: I’m at the office, but leaving in ten minutes. See you soon.
Before she could set the cell down, it vibrated with another text.
Rowen: Thanks. Kisses.
How did one respond to that? She chose the ‘blow kiss’ emoji, then rushed to finish her paperwork so she could go home.
It shocked her how comfortable she felt with him, and not just because he’d made love to her so thoroughly he rendered her boneless-like, but because he was simply the best, sweetest, man she’d ever met. There was an innocence about Rowen that she couldn’t deny. Not in a childlike way, but as in a genuine, kind, caring man with a heart of gold and a soul filled with hidden treasure.
Indeed, few men were like Rowen.
By the time she slipped into the front seat of her car and headed for home, she had a perpetual smile plastered on her face. Dating a man like…God, she hoped he’d consider them dating. Jumping straight into bed with him didn’t mean they had any kind of relationship, but it did change everything.
A warm tingle flowed across her skin like a rainbow covered the sky when she eyed Rowen’s truck. She parked her car, then pulled out her phone to text Rowen, but before she pull up his contact, she heard the roar of Jeff’s car pulling in behind her.
“Shit,” she mumbled, looking for Rowen’s uncle’s number. She’d filed all the paperwork, so her ex shouldn’t be coming anywhere near her, unless he wanted to get arrested. Just as she clicked the call button, Jeff pulled open her door and yanked her from the car.
“Let go of me!” She tried to shrug his hand from her arm, while holding her phone in a death grip. “You need to leave. I filed a restraining—”
“I know what you did, and it’s ridiculous.” His fingers dug into her biceps, sending painful memories of the damage his fists could inflict.
“I’ve called the police.”
He laughed. “When are you going to stop this silly little temper tantrum and come home?”
“Home?” She glared at him. “We’re divorced, remember?”
“Something I shouldn’t have let happen.”
She wigged her arm, but he didn’t release his grip. “Why? Because you thought I wanted your money, well I don’t want it, nor do I need it.”
“Come on, you’re in debt up to your eyeballs and seriously, you miss me. I know you do. We can work this out. I told you I was sorry.”
“You really are a piece of work.” She glanced between his face and the hand on her arm. “Let go of me and leave before the police arrive because I don’t think you really want to make the headlines this way.”
“Don’t threaten me, baby.” He grabbed her other arm, holding her tight.
Her lungs burned as the familiar combination of shame and fear flowed through her veins.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rowen fly from his front door.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” Rowen yelled.
Startled, Jeff shoved her behind him, still holding her by one hand.
“Back off, buddy, this is family business.”
Heather stared into Rowen’s blood-filled eyes. She’d seen that look before.
In Jeff.
“Let her go and leave. I’m not going to ask again.” Rowen reached out for her, but Jeff shoved her backward then shoved Rowen in the chest.
“Get in the house,” Rowen demand.
She wasn’t going anywhere, nor was she going to let these two fight it out. “I called the police.”
“I know, my uncle called me and he’s sending a car over, now get in the house.” His commanding tone sent a shiver down her spine.
She stood next to Rowen, feeling the anger seeping from his pores. She leveled a hard look at Jeff. “If the cops arrest you, and they will, it will be hard to come out smelling like roses with the press this time.”
“You little bitch.” Jeff stepped forward.
Rowan reached his arm out, curling his fingers around her biceps, and stepping in front of her.
Stunned by Rowen’s use of force with her, she froze in place, watching Rowen’s fist connect with the side of Jeff’s face. The crackle-pop, of knuckle crushing bone echoed between her ears.
Jeff stumbled backward, hitting her car with his back and a loud thud.
“You’re going to regret that,” Jeff said, wiping the blood from his cracked lip.
Heather, realizing Rowan was going to go after Jeff again, ran the five paces toward him and grabbed his bulging biceps. His body stiffened as he whipped his head to the side, glaring at her.
She swallowed. “Let him be.”
“That’s it, baby, defend your husband.”
Rowen growled.
His muscle twitched under her touch.
“I’m not your baby, and you’re not my husband,” she said, pointing down the street as a patrol car rolled to a stop in front of Rowen’s driveway. “Last chance to leave, and don’t think I won’t go through with harassment charges if you keep doing this.”
“Come near her again and I’ll do more than hit you,” Rowen said behind a clenched jaw.
She had no idea how to calm him down, and his rage frightened her on so many levels, even if it was to protect her. First, she had to handle Jeff.
“Are you fucking him?” Jeff questioned, daring to step forward. “Awe, baby, you are.” He raised his hand to his mouth, spreading his fingers, shoving his tongue between them and waggling it. “Best pussy in town.”
“You fucking bastard,” Rowen said, lunging forward.
“Rowen! No,” she yelled, but it was too late.
Rowen connected another fist with Jeff’s gut. In a fraction of second, Jeff landed a punch on Rowen’s chin.
She stood there, mouth gaping open watching her asshole ex-husband and her current boyfriend, if you could call him that, beating the crap out of each other. The sound of clopping boots hitting the ground penetrated her nightmare as a police officer called out Rowen’s name and commanded the men to break it up.
Neither man did.
The police officer yanked Rowen from Jeff, who held his hands up and backed away. “I was trying to leave and then this guy assaulted me.”
“I understand that Dr. Holbrook has a restraining order, and you’re on her property, so I suggest you leave, and trust me when I say, there will be no second chances. You come anywhere near Dr. Holbrook again and you will be arrested.”
“And what about him? I want him arrested.”
“If I bring him in, I’m sure as hell bringing you in, too. So, I highly recommend you get in your car, leave, and make sure you don’t come back.”
Jeff didn’t say another word as he slipped into his fancy car, turned the engine over, and slowly backed out of her driveway, and rolled down the street.
Heather took a few calming breaths, rolling her neck. She was still afraid of Jeff. She’d probably always be afraid of him and for good reason, but she wasn’t under his grip, and hopefully this was the end of that road.
She focused on Rowen, who stood in her driveway, hands on his hips, back to her. His rage frightened her in a different way.
But it also angered her. Violence wasn’t the way to solve this issue, if anything, it only escalated it.
She folded her arms across her chest as he turned and closed the gap between them. His body sill oozed rage. She held up her hand, not wanting to feel that kind of anger. “Why on earth did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Resort to violence to deal with him,” she said, letting out a short puff of air.
“Are you kidding me?” Both his brows arched. “The way he manhandled you—”
“Didn’t require you to hit him. All you had to do was step between me and him. Had he tried to actually hurt me, or you, fine, but you didn’t have to start it.”
“What?!” He stood two feet from her, looking down on her with dark eyes. “I bet he left bruises on your arm, the way he held on to you.” His nostrils flared like a bull ready to charge. His chested heaved up and down with every breath.
“You need to calm down before I can talk to you about this. I need some time alone. Give the Easton’s my best.”
With that, she turned on her heels and marched herself into her house and locked the door. Rubbing her arms, she could feel the pain of bruises developing where Jeff had squeezed so hard she thought it would cut off he circulation. She leaned against the front door, peeking out the window.
Rowan still stood in her driveway, scratching the back of his head.
Her body trembled and tears stung at the corners of her eyes. Rowen was a good man and she knew deep down he’d never hurt her physically. She’d give him time to calm down, and she’d take time clear her head.
She’d talk to him tomorrow and go from there.
One day at a time.