Chapter Eight

Shane

We walked through the trees, which were lit up with LED lights spiraling up the trunks and branches. Flames of a fire pit crackled from below. It was a surreal experience, unique to the Fields of Fire.

A DJ played energetic remixes of popular music, filling the night air with a pounding, driving rhythm. I saw a group of people roasting marshmallows and making s’mores at one of the fire pits scattered throughout the park.

Fiona’s eyes lit up when we arrived, delightedly scanning our surroundings. She was practically buzzing to get started.

I reached for her hand, lacing our fingers together on the way to the training portion of the evening. Fiona surprised me by scooting closer and nestling to my side while we listened to the instructor but she moved away quickly when she realized what she was doing.

“I was enjoying that,” I told her, wanting her to return.

Fiona flushed. “Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I still enjoyed it. Want to come back?” I patted my shoulder.

She smiled shyly but shook her head. “Nope, your shoulder is too hard.”

That wasn’t the only thing that was hard, especially after the way that the tension had crackled between us in the truck earlier but I doubted that pointing it out would be helpful. “Fine, later then.”

We were interrupted by a child wailing from the nearby tree line. “Mommy!”

I knew absolutely nothing about children and generally ignored them but even I could see that this one had clearly just lost his mother and needed someone to walk him to the organizers. I couldn’t just ignore that.

“Hey, buddy,” I said, jogging the short distance to the kid. “What’s going on?”

Tears streamed down his face when he lifted his sad little eyes to mine. The muted light made him look like a depressed cherub as he sputtered, “My mommy is gone.”

“Yeah? Want me to help you find her?” I asked, bending down to reach his eye level.

Fiona looked on silently, her head tilted as she watched the interaction.

The kid hiccuped and nodded so enthusiastically that I was afraid he was going to give himself whiplash. Then again, I’d heard that children were surprisingly resilient, so I didn’t worry too much about it.

“Will you excuse us for a minute?” I asked Fiona, who nodded almost as enthusiastically as the kid had.

“I’ll walk with you,” she said.

With my hand on his little shoulder, I guided the kid to the entrance, where I’d seen an information booth when we’d arrived.

A frantic-looking woman was gesturing wildly with her hands, speaking to the man behind the desk. She sank to her knees in front of the boy when she spotted us walking toward her, throwing her arms around his shoulders. “Kayden! Where’d you go?”

“Went to get a marshmallow. Then you were gone.” He sobbed into her embrace.

“Oh, baby, I told you it was time to go soon,” she said to him, then looked at me. “Thank you so much for bringing him over. One second, he was with us, and the next, he was gone.”

“That’s okay. I remember being that age. It’s easy to get distracted.” I turned to Fiona and reached for her hand again. She hesitated for only a second before accepting my outstretched hand. “You ready to get started?”

“When you are.” She smiled.

We said our goodbyes to the boy and his mother, who must have thanked me a million times before letting us go. Then we headed to the starting point of the blue course.

I helped Fiona into her harness, trying to ignore how close my hands were to her breasts when I buckled her in. My fingers lingered just a second too long against her taut stomach. Her breathing hitched, and a flush rose on her cheeks.

She was as affected by me as I was by her. I’d seen it the moment she opened her door to me, her gaze raking over me like she wanted nothing more than to mount me right there on her front porch. The feeling had been mutual.

It had taken every ounce of strength I had to turn around and lead her to my truck, instead of pulling her toward me, kissing the shit out of her, and making my fantasies a reality.

The click of the double locking mechanism on her harness pulled me from my rapidly degenerating thoughts. She stepped to the platform.

Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she turned to face me. “Ready to get left in the dust?”

I clicked my harness into place. “In your dreams.”

“You have no idea what goes on in my dreams,” she quipped. With that, she leapt from the platform and zipped her way to the next, leaving me curious and already semi-hard.

It didn’t take me long to catch up to her, where she was making her way across a bridge made of cables.

“You’re going to make a comment like that and not tell me what happens in these dreams?”

“Yup,” she said, flashing me a smile over her shoulder.Her brow furrowed in concentration as she made her way the other side of the bridge.

Fiona and I laughed and flirted our way through the course, pausing occasionally to let others finish an obstacle before we started with it. During one particularly challenging obstacle, I had to help two teenage girls disentangle themselves from a rope net. One clawed at me for leverage, causing Fiona to collapse in a fit of giggles.

I loved that she was having so much fun with me. Choosing this place for a date had been a bit of a risk, and I wasn’t sure Fiona would be okay with it. Now that we were out here, she seemed genuinely happy that we hadn’t just gone to a restaurant.

“So, have you always lived in Houston?” Fiona asked as we headed back to my truck after completing the obstacle course.

“No, we moved around a bit when I was growing up,” I said, wondering where the question suddenly came from.

“You did? Why?” Her brow knitted, as if she was trying to figure something out.

“My dad was...” I paused, trying to find the right word to explain it. “Restless, I guess, before he had to take over the family business. He’d lived in Texas all his life and wanted to branch out but that didn’t quite work out.”

“What do you mean? What did your dad do?”

“He dabbled with a few things but eventually we had to move back to Texas, and he took over the business.” We were venturing into territory that I didn’t want to venture into with her. Not until I knew her better, if I got to know her better. “How do you feel about Guinness pie?”

“Guinness as in the beer?” she asked.

“Yeah, they use it in pies at this Irish Pub I discovered the other day. You interested in trying it?”

She shrugged. “Sure, why not?” She climbed into the passenger seat of my truck. “You were saying? About your dad?”

“That’s it, really,” I said. “Once he took over the business, we settled in Houston, and I’ve lived there ever since.”

We pulled up outside of the pub and went in. It was like stepping into something out of an old fairy tale. It was located in an old building with a heavy wooden door, and inside, it was decorated in stone and dark wooden furniture. I loved it.

“How about your dad?” I asked her, once we were settled in a corner booth and had placed orders for the Guinness pie and a pitcher of craft beer.

“What do you want to know?” Her expression was guarded, as if she was uncertain about talking to me about him.

“Anything?”

“Well.” She tugged at her lower lip with her teeth, pausing with a faraway look in her eyes. “He raised me as a single father. He did his best.”

I sensed that there was a lot more to that last part of her statement but also that she would tell me what it was when she was ready. “Where’s your mom?”

Tears sprang unexpectedly into her eyes. “She passed away when I was four. Brain cancer.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” I slid over to her side of the booth and wrapped my arms around her. She let me hold her, taking a few deep breaths to regain her composure before pulling away.

“No, it’s okay. It was a long time ago. It just still hits me sometimes, you know?” Her voice was soft and filled with emotion.

“I think that’s perfectly normal.” The waitress arrived with our food just as I said it, placing our dishes and beer in front of us. Fiona looked grateful for the interruption, which I took as a sign that she needed a few minutes of silence to gather her thoughts.

After the first few bites of the pie, she smiled again, even if it was a small smile. “This pie is delicious.”

“I’m glad that you like it,” I said. “It’s become one of my favorite foods.”

“You’re going to have to go climbing every day if you eat it too often,” she teased lightly.

I was relieved that the moment of sadness had passed. I would’ve had no idea how to comfort her, other than the hug I’d already given.

She still had shadows in her eyes, but I didn’t expect that those would go away quite as quickly as she’d managed to rally herself outwardly.

“I run every day.” I smirked and patted my flat stomach. “And I row. So, I think I’m allowed a pie every once in a while as a reward.”

Her eyes fell to the hand on my stomach for a second, then found my eyes again. “I think you might be right about that. In fact, you should eat more pie.”

“More pie it is.” I dug in and practically inhaled the rest of my food.

After our plates were cleared and our beers refilled, Fiona leaned back in the booth with a strange expression fixed on her beautiful features. She stared at me like I was a puzzle again, watching me closely.

“You still want to hear about my family?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“After my mom passed away, my dad threw himself into his work. He had his own company back in Conroe, in the oilfield service industry.”

I froze when she said the words, immediately knowing how her story would end. It was one that I’d heard dozens of times. I just couldn’t believe that I was hearing it from Fiona. I braced myself for what was coming next.

“Anyway, he worked almost exclusively for one client. His company went belly up when the client dropped him overnight with no warning. The client was Perkins Enterprises. Have you heard of it?”

My mind split into two warring sides. One wanted to tell her the truth. The other argued on the side of my dick, which wanted to be inside her. “No, I don’t think that I have.”

If she was surprised, she didn’t show it much. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and she sucked in a quiet breath before her expression returned to neutral.

I inclined my head at our empty glasses and the equally empty pitcher. “You want to get out of here?”

She didn’t say anything for a beat, then nodded. “Sure.”

On the way out of the pub, I rested my hand on the small of her back and felt the slight shiver that ran through her. It was a satisfying feeling, knowing that such a light touch caused her to react like that.

It also catapulted my mind to a very dirty place, wondering how responsive she would be to me in bed. I had a feeling it could be explosive between us. I couldn’t wait to test my theory.

The drive back to her place passed in relative silence. I kept sneaking glances at her, barely able to keep my eyes on the road. Her skin looked flawless in the dim light, and my fingers twitched with their desire to touch her.

I parked the car and laced my fingers through hers as I walked her to her door, keeping her close to my side.

She turned to me when we reached her porch, not letting go of my hand. I took that as a good sign.

“Thank you for tonight,” she said. “I had a lot of fun.”

I nodded. “So did I, but it’s still early. We could have some more fun.”

It was obvious, direct, and a completely lame line but I wanted her, and I knew that she wanted me, too. Or at least I thought that she did.

I reached up and brushed her cheek with the backs of my fingers, our eyes locked on one another. I leaned down, my mouth inches away from hers. Her lips parted. I went to close the last bit of distance between us, almost tasting her already.

Then, she shut me down.