Chapter Thirty-three
Saxon was awake and walking around the town square at three in the morning, unable to sleep. That was the only reason he saw the flames.
He squinted into the dark, unsure of what he was seeing at first. Then, when he processed what the flickering orange light was, he broke into a sprint. His phone was in his hand, dialing his cousin Lucas, who was home from college and back to work as a volunteer firefighter.
"You're up early," Lucas greeted, his voice clear and alert. "What's up?"
"There's a fire at the Rise and Shine."
"We're on it." The words were barely out of Lucas's mouth before the siren sounded at the firehouse a few blocks away.
Saxon hung up. To his left he saw a blur of motion dart away from the bakery. Away from the fire.
Arson.
The word raged through his mind, and on the heels of that was the memory of the ax scars in the roof of the bakery.
He was torn between running to help put out the flames and following whoever had set them. In the end, there was no contest. His cousin and the men would handle the fire as they were trained to do. All Saxon could do was get in the way.
He sprinted after the dark figure, catching a glimpse of pale hands and the edge of a face under the streetlights. He couldn't make out who it was, but he was closing the distance fast.
No one fucked with Aunt Beth and got away with it.
Saxon had a fleeting thought that he should call law enforcement, but he didn't want to waste the energy or the breath. He was on the trail of his prey, and for the first time since Gemma had left, he felt alive.
The arsonist rounded a corner, skidding on the concrete for a second. That delay was all he needed to close the distance and pounce.
He launched himself at the hooded figure, realizing too late that the person was much smaller than he'd imagined.
They landed hard on the ground. A red plastic gas can spun across the pavement behind the town hall. His bulk drove the air out of the woman with a harsh squeal.
A woman?
The odd notion took a second to settle in his head as he scrambled to take control over her flailing arms and legs.
"Get off of me!" she screamed, her voice cracking with fury.
Saxon lifted himself up just enough to turn her over.
Wanda Jessup's face was twisted with rage, as she spat a series of sharp curses aimed at both him and his parents.
Sirens screamed nearby. He could see the faint wash of flashing red and blue lights catch on the low hanging clouds.
"Over here," he shouted, hoping someone could hear him above the noise.
It didn't take long for the people living nearby to start shambling out of their homes to see what was happening. Saxon called to Mrs. Olive Peony, who was the first one on the scene. She was in her mid-sixties, and even at this hour, was in full makeup complete with fake eyelashes. Tight zebra striped leggings peeked out from under a T-shirt that read, Fuck off. I'm sleeping.
"Call the sheriff," he told her.
"What are you doing on top of Wanda Jessup?" Mrs. Peony asked, cocking one bony hip.
"She set the fire."
"Get off of me!" Wanda screamed, thrashing and clawing at him with every ounce of her strength. She was more than just mad, she was out of control. Deranged.
Mrs. Peony pulled out a phone covered in crystals and dialed. "Get Conlan down to the square. He's got an arsonist to arrest."
More people appeared, and finally a couple of men came over to help Saxon hold Wanda down before she hurt herself. She was still fighting like a woman possessed, biting and spitting now that her arms and legs were pinned.
Saxon had never seen anything like it before in his life. Wanda had always been so calm and subdued.
"Don't let go of her," came a soft voice behind Saxon.
He turned his head to see Lulu standing there, pale and shaking.
"What's wrong with her?" he asked.
Lulu swallowed. Tears filled her eyes. "She's off her meds again. She doesn't know what she's doing."
By that time, Conlan rolled up in his official SUV, took one look at the scene, then radioed in for an ambulance.
"I want all of you to back up," he ordered. "I know you won't go back to bed, but you can at least give the woman some breathing room."
Conlan knelt beside Wanda. When he spoke, it was to Saxon. "How long has she been like this?"
"I saw her running from the fire. I didn't know who it was, but I chased her. Caught her." He nodded his head across the street. "She had a gas can. It flew that way."
Conlan eyed the men. "You all okay holding onto her until the EMTs get here?"
Everyone nodded.
"Be as gentle with her as you can, but don't let her hurt herself."
Conlan donned a pair of gloves and collected the evidence.
Lulu knelt beside her mother. Tears streamed down her pretty face. "It's okay, mama. We're going to get you help."
Wanda shrieked and jerked toward her daughter, teeth bare and snapping.
Lulu let out a sob and inched away.
Edmond Jessup shoved his way through the crowd, eyes wild and terrified. The second he saw his wife on the ground being held down by three grown men, he seemed to sag in relief, as if this outcome was far better than what he'd expected.
He bent over his round belly and stroked his wife's hair. When she tried to bite him, he simply dodged and kept on petting. "You're okay now, Wanda. No one's going to hurt you."
An insane light glowed in Wanda's wide eyes. "Fucking bitch stole my business. Stole my customers. Stole my life! I made her pay. She'll burn. Burn! Burn!"
Edmond glanced at Saxon. "Was anyone hurt in the fire?"
"Aunt Beth doesn't go in until four. I think the building was empty."
He let out a tight nod. "That's good. When Wanda is back on her meds, she'll be glad no one was hurt."
"I want her to die!" Wanda shouted. "I'll poison her pies again. Use more poison this time. Kill everyone who eats her food!"
Lulu hugged herself. Edmond rose and pulled his daughter under his thick arm. "It's going to be okay, honey. We'll get her help and she'll be good as new."
"I told her she needed to take her meds, but she wouldn't." Lulu curled into her father's embrace and sobbed. "She said if I told you, she'd hate me forever. I'm sorry, daddy. I should have told you."
Edmond rocked his daughter in a gesture both gentle and loving. "It's not your fault, baby. I should have been paying more attention."
"She was hiding it from you."
"It doesn't matter now. We'll fix it. We'll get your mama back again."
Saxon didn't let go of the deranged woman thrashing on the pavement, but he was careful not to hurt her. She might have been an arsonist, but she was still a mother and a wife. People loved her and wanted her to get well again. Saxon couldn't fault them for that.
EMTs arrived and strapped her to a gurney. Saxon wasn't sure if they'd sedated her or if she'd just worn herself out, but by the time they loaded her into an ambulance, all the fight had leaked out of her body.
Saxon stretched his stiff muscles, hoping she was going to be all right—both to return to her family and to answer for her crime.
Conlan found him and pulled him away from the crowd.
"The fire is under control."
"How bad was it?"
"The damage was minimal. She really didn't know what she was doing."
Saxon nodded. "I think we found our vandal."
Conlan sighed. "This isn't the first time she's destroyed property. She's got a record. It's an old one, but if she's off her meds…"
"Have you contacted Aunt Beth about the bakery?"
"She's here. Poor woman has been through too damn much these past few months."
"Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on her."
Conlan slapped his back. "Good man. I'll be in touch."
The next few hours went by in a blur as the sun rose and people began rehashing what they'd seen and heard.
Saxon stifled a groan as he went to Dockside and sat at the bar.
Flora brought him coffee, but offered no smile.
"Hell of a thing," she said.
"No kidding."
"Heard you were the big hero. Saved the Rise and Shine, caught a firebug. Not bad, big bro."
He shrugged. "Right place, right time."
"What were you doing up at three, anyway?"
"Insomnia. Went for a walk to clear my head."
"Did it work?" Flora asked. "Is she off your mind?"
Saxon didn't have to ask who his sister meant.
Gemma.
"Sadly, no," he said.
Flora leaned over the bar and kissed his cheek. "Sorry, Saxon. But you've got to start eating. You're wasting away. Breakfast is on the house."
Saxon didn't argue, because he needed to eat and wake up enough to bid on a new project this morning. But when she wasn't looking, he'd tuck some cash under his plate.
He endured the congratulations and hearty slaps on the back for a job well done as he ate his breakfast. After consuming nearly an entire pot of coffee, he walked home, got in his work truck and drove to the lakefront lot where he was scheduled to meet a new perspective client.
Mr. Shears was a successful businessman with plenty of money to spend and a timeline so tight it squeaked. He'd asked specifically for Saxon, having heard good things from his friends.
Saxon knew the man was just buttering him up to get a better price, but he didn't mind a little transparent flattery. It wasn't going to change the bid or the timeline.
He pulled up a steep gravel drive onto a high lot overlooking the lake. Some of the trees had been cleared to show off the spectacular view, but the lot was still heavily wooded.
Saxon made mental notes as he hiked the last few hundred feet to where another car was parked in the shade, hidden behind thick brush.
As he rounded the clump of buck brush and baby cedars, he nearly crashed into a tree, all because of a pair of Daisy Dukes.
Gemma was bent over, reaching for something in her back seat. He couldn't see her face, but he would know her body anywhere.
His heart exploded with excitement, leaving no room in his chest for air.
She was here. Gemma was here, close enough to touch.
His feet wouldn't move. He didn't even dare to twitch for fear that the dream bubble would pop and he'd be left with the stark, cold reality of meeting Mr. Shears.
She stood upright and turned toward him, a notebook in her slender hands.
Her smile flashed bright and vivid, then faded as he stood there, unable to believe what he was seeing enough to react.
Her shoulders fell, and her whole body seemed to deflate, as if he'd stolen all her air.
"I'm sorry," she finally said after a long hesitation. "I guess maybe surprising you like this wasn't a good idea."
Finally, his body and mind meshed gears enough for him to move toward her. By the time he reached her, he was practically running.
His bigger body collided with hers, knocking her off balance. He didn't care. He simply steadied her while he slid his hands through her hair and kissed her like he'd been dying to do from the first second he saw her all those weeks ago.
Her mouth opened for his. Her tongue danced behind his teeth, gifting him with her cherries and buttercream taste. She was the sweetest temptation he'd ever experienced, and he'd never get enough of her. He knew that now—knew that he could live a thousand years and still never get his fill of her kisses.
After long weeks of existing in a world without Gemma, she was back, and he was once again alive.
When he got enough of her mouth to survive a few more seconds, he said, "It was the best idea you've ever had."
Her cheeks were flushed and rosy. Her mouth was damp from his. He'd pulled several locks of her shiny hair from her jaunty ponytail, but it only made her that much prettier.
She was so damn beautiful he didn't know how he could ever look away.
He knew in that instant that if she left again, he wouldn't survive it. He loved her, and no matter what it cost him—hours of commuting every day, running the business from a distance, hiring more help—he couldn't let her go again.
He needed her in his life.
***
Gemma held Saxon tight, afraid he might vanish if she loosened her grip. He felt so good pressed against her, his mouth moving over hers.
After too many days of floating in a haze, drifting from moment to moment, she finally felt the earth under her feet, and the strong, solid support of a man she loved more than any city or job.
She knew in this instant that she'd made the right choice to come back here, to Saxon.
"What are you doing here?" he finally asked.
"Mr. Shears sent me. We're partnering to build a restaurant." She was still giddy over the news and worried that saying it out loud might make the whole wonderful opportunity vanish.
"That's who I thought I was meeting. You're working with him?"
Her grin widened. "He's been saying for years that he wanted to expand, but he wanted to do something different that wouldn't compete with his existing restaurants in the city. When I told him about this place and the seasonal traffic it brings, he was interested. When I told him that I had a talented friend who ran a construction company who would be perfect for the build, he was sold. He wants an upscale, lakeside restaurant that caters to the tourists who prefer haute cuisine." She practically jumped up and down in his arms. "I even get to name it."
"What does this mean, Gemma? How long are you here?" Hope shone in his eyes and his grip on her waist tightened.
She took a deep breath like she was about to jump into deep, cold water. "I'm moving here. For good."
"What about your job?"
"This new project will be my job. I'll oversee the construction and make the building, location and decor fit his vision, then I'll run the place. Design the menu, hire staff—the works."
"Your own restaurant?" he asked, his mouth catching up with the good news and giving her that dazzling smile.
"It will be Mr. Shears's, but it's a great big step in the right direction. Besides, I don't need my name on the door to be happy." She looked at her strappy sandals for a moment, then back up at him. Fear trickled through her body. Nervous sweat glued the back of her shirt to her spine. Still, she owed him the truth. "But I do need you, Saxon. I can't do this without you."
There. She'd said it. Those desperate, clingy words that she had such a hard time accepting. Burdening anyone made her sick, and yet, she couldn't seem to stop herself when it came to Saxon.
Now she waited, holding her breath, dreading his response.
He said nothing, simply stood there, staring at her with a faint smile warming his mouth.
"Well?" she urged. "Are you going to bolt from the weak, needy girl or give her a shot?"
He slid his fingers through the loose strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail. His hand came to rest, cupping the nape of her neck.
She wanted to lean into him, breathe him in, absorb his warmth and strength and make it her own. She had so many challenges ahead, she really could use someone like him to lean on—someone to ease her burden, to make her laugh and drive her over the edge of pleasure. Multiple times.
Finally, he spoke. His voice was deep and sexy as hell. "Needing me doesn't make you weak or needy. It makes you mine." He kissed her lips briefly, softly. "I like you being mine, Gemma."
She shivered from her toes up to where his hand had settled. Only Saxon could take her fatal flaw and make it sound sexy. "I think I'm going to like being yours, too."
"That's good, because I don't plan to let you get away from me twice." He was all serious now as he leaned over her, pinning her against the car door. "Don't run from me again, Gemma. I don't think my heart could take the strain of losing the woman I love a second time."
He loved her.
The revelation was so stunning, she almost didn't believe it. But then when she looked into his eyes, the truth was shining there, easy to see.
He loved her, and that changed everything.
"I love you, too," she said, the words bursting out with a power that came all the way from her soul.
She could see herself through his eyes now—not a burden or a clingy, needy girl, but a woman looking for a partner in life. She would give him as much as he gave her, and together, there would be nothing they couldn't accomplish.
He was hers, the world was theirs, and Gemma was going to take it in both hands and never let go.