Page 7 of Chasing the Flame (The Sacred Flames Of Ruin #1)

He bites the last word out; his eyebrow raised as if he dares me to question him.

I feel the darkness in me take over, flitting at the corners of my mouth.

Smothering it down, I catch a flash of obsidian with golden shimmering veins along the band of a teardrop-shaped ring.

It’s enough to distract me. My eyes narrow as I take in the rest of the ring gracing his right hand .

The phoenix flame is in the center, paired with the horned silhouette of a beast with golden eyes. It’s enough to make me want to rip something to shreds, and I don’t stop the growl that escapes my lips. I want this fucker to remember all the times I used to make him piss his pants as a child.

My words are steel-tipped, laced with ferocity, “Don’t worry, cousin, my crew is respectful and professional. I’m sure your wife is in capable hands.” I smirk, knowing the next comment will send him over the edge. “Nice ring, I see some things never change.”

He stiffens, his eyes blazing with contempt, his posture rigid. He throws a cursory glance over his shoulder toward the house, his expression wary before turning to me, a mask of indifference plastered on his face. “See to it they are. I’m holding you responsible should anything go missing.”

I snort, nodding before turning my back, effectively dismissing him. I hear his footfalls stomping on the porch and fight back a grin. “What the fuck was that about?” Matt whispers, chuckling as he takes in my devilish expression.

I shake my head at him, refusing to dignify the question. I know damn good and well why Luke feels threatened.

I’m the cause.

If only he would treat his wife with more respect in my presence, I wouldn’t have to resort to such extreme measures.

I know it’s none of my business. Hell, I shouldn’t even be inserting myself where my opinion doesn’t belong. I just can’t stand to watch him be such a dick to her.

“Get to work, Tony. You know what to do. Matt, follow me down to Roger’s. I’m ready to get started, and it’s clear that this will be one of those projects. ”

Matt chuffs a laugh, shaking his head at me.

He rakes a hand through his black hair and leans down to grab his wallet and keys off the steps.

His brown eyes crinkle at the edges, an ornery expression coming across his face.

“Yeah, let’s go, boss. Before you get us into trouble with the man signing our checks. ”

When I return with Matt and the rest of the goods in tow, we get started on the siding.

It’s a slow process, one that takes time and great care.

You want to make sure everything is sealed nicely.

If done incorrectly, it can be calamitous for the home and its tenants.

There’s mold to consider, as well as water, structural, and cosmetic damage, so we take time to ensure it’s properly installed.

After several hours, we’re more than ready to take a break. Each of us are wiping off copious amounts of sweat, chugging water like it’s our last drink. The summer sun beats relentlessly down our backs, and the puffy clouds I had seen earlier are long gone, taking every bit of shade with them.

It’s about that time I notice the front door creak open again.

This time, it’s Averie—Mrs. Blackthorne—standing at the door, holding a tray with a jug of lemonade and several glasses.

“I thought you all might be a little thirsty,” she says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her eyes are wide, like she’s afraid but determined to conquer that fear.

The green hue of her eye color is closer to moss today.

My breath catches in my throat, and my eyes betray me, sliding down her face to that generous-sized chest, trailing along the edges of her stomach with just the right amount of fluff.

Then, down to her hips and clenched thighs.

I love how she tries to hide it, as if I can’t tell she’s affected by my appraisal.

Her lips part, forming a soft oh, and a pretty pink flush comes across her freckled cheeks. Her long coppery-auburn waves swish behind her, gracing the top of her peachy ass. My fingers twitch, itching to fist in her hair, and crash my lips down on hers.

Damn.

There goes my dick, having a complete and total mind of its own.

I try to cover my groan when she sets the tray on the white iron patio furniture.

I plan to paint it all black—for her. I love that Averie’s style tastes are similar to mine, even if she doesn’t know it.

It was a bonus when I took down her husband by a peg or two.

So, of course, I’ll turn this house into her gothic fantasy.

She pours three glasses, tucking a stray strand of curls behind her ear—the jeans she’s wearing today hug every single curve and leave nothing to the imagination.

With the first glass in her hand, she comes my way.

Our fingers touch as she hands me the glass, and a tingling sensation shoots up my arm, crawling down my back.

My hand lingers a little longer than it should against hers, our eyes locked on one another.

It’s like a battle of wills to determine who will look away first. In the end, I move away, jerking my hand back as if she’d burned me.

She tugs at her T-shirt, pulling it down.

The dusty blue complements her hair perfectly, and she quickly steps away from me, the light in her eyes dimming by a fraction as she turns back toward the tray .

Fuck, why do I feel like an ass?

Taking a sip of the lemonade, I avert my gaze.

I’m warring with myself; one second, I want to keep my walls up.

Next, I contemplate taking Averie into my arms, see what it would feel like to taste her on my lips.

Any minute now, this careful wall I’ve built will crack.

I just know it. I sigh, then chug the lemonade.

This is so fucking wrong.

I sure as fuck shouldn’t be thinking about the way her ass looks in those jeans, and I shouldn’t be thinking about those soulful eyes that call to the void within me.

Nope. I shouldn’t, but goddamn if I can’t focus on anything else.

After giving a gruff thanks, I excuse myself, taking off toward the sounds of the water. I need to put as much distance between us as I can.

Nothing good will come of this path, nothing at all. She’s fucking married, and I’m pining over her like some love-sick teenager. Which doesn’t make a lick of sense. I don’t even know her… not really.

As the water ripples across the sand, I breathe in the lake’s earthy, albeit slightly musty smell, losing myself to my thoughts. Today, even the water isn’t enough to quell them.

After a fleeting moment of silence, I turn, leaving my thoughts of the beautiful redhead behind to drown in the watery depths where they belong.