Page 5 of Through Any Fire (Any x #1)

I t’s all I can do to not laugh in his face. My fingers fly to my lips, covering the outlandish smile that breaks out. Be his wife? Marry him? The thought is so comical it almost eclipses into familiar territory: contempt.

I tamp down my knee-jerk reaction and shake off the humor.

Cal leans back and tilts his head, eyes flicking between mine.

The silence builds, neither of us breaking eye contact, while the low thrum of music seems to swell into a deafening crescendo—or that might just be my heartbeat echoing in my ears.

A knot thickens in my throat, and I gulp.

Cal breaks first, eyes falling to my neck to watch me swallow. I grind my teeth together to stop a triumphant smile from breaking free, turning instead to the crackling fire to watch as the log snaps in two. An apt metaphor.

How does he still have such an effect on me? It’s been eleven years since I saw him. Why does he look at me like it hasn’t even been a day?

“And what part about marrying me is so comical?” he asks, but the musing tone tells me he’s toying with me .

I consider lying. Telling him off. Dragging Caleb back here and sliding my tongue in his mouth. But worst of all, I consider saying yes.

Thankfully, the server returns, saving me from answering as she hands a fresh tumbler to Cal.

He accepts it, but his fingers linger on her wrist, halting her in her tracks.

He looks away from me, and an old ache throbs.

“Come back in ten.” His eyes drag over her exposed body, and there’s no mistaking the meaning behind his words.

My face heats, blood rushing to my cheeks as the server smiles and leans down to whisper in his ear. I’m not sure what she says, and I don’t care to use my imagination. She stands and walks away with a sway to her hips.

I scoff. “It’s nice to see the rumors are true.”

Truly, let’s just call the past five minutes a temporary blip in judgment. How could I ever think Callahan would ever give up his philandering ways? He wasn’t the marrying sort. He told me that himself eleven years ago.

I only came here tonight because I’d hoped to speak with him without his constant security detail.

They’re still here—I recognize one in the corner, though much older than when I saw him last—but Abstrakt guarantees a certain level of privacy.

It was my best chance to get him alone long enough to ask if he knew where Mason was.

I certainly wasn’t expecting him to extort me into marriage, and then somehow still feel jealous when he openly propositioned another woman in front of me.

The sly smile that curls his lips stings more harshly than a sucker punch to the gut.

“Which rumors have you heard, Bunny?” He raises his glass, and my eyes follow the knot in his neck that slides up and down as he swallows.

The ice clinks in his drink as he swirls it around.

Then he extends his glass in open offer.

“Now, now. Don’t be shy. It’s just the two of us here.

” He winks one of those brown eyes that’s hooded with lust. “We both know you still drink whiskey. Crave it, in fact.”

Cal lightly turns the tumbler, swirling the liquid to tempt me. I lean closer, my gaze never straying from his. I’m so close that his knuckles brush my silk dress. It sends a shiver down my spine, but I refuse to show how he affects me.

“Even if I were dying of thirst, I wouldn’t accept a drink from you.” My body fumes, heating me from my scalp to my toes, and I lie to myself that it’s from my anger. “Let alone your bullshit proposal.”

Cal grins, his dimple creasing his cheek. “It was hardly a proposal.” He pauses for a beat, as if in thought. “Though, I suppose it was. A business proposal, at least.”

With another sip of his drink, his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, and he sighs. “I don’t see what the problem is. I’ll help you with your brother. You’ll get to quit whatever day job you have. And after two years, if you want a divorce, I’ll draw up the papers myself.”

My shoulders twitch. Quit whatever day job I have? Has he not kept tabs on me like I have on him? Something about that stings, and I fight the urge to reach for the old ache in my chest.

“Why won’t you just help me out of the goodness of your heart?” I ask, despite knowing he’s going to mock me. Anything to steer me out of that train of thought. “Or is it true you’ve ruined the last of it?”

Cal leans forward, and a curl from his perfectly tousled waves falls loose. “Didn’t you just say we were enemies?”

“Not in those exact words.”

“Semantics,” Cal says with a dismissive wave. “Why would I help you , when all you offer is a less than grateful attitude”—he gestures toward me with his drink—“and a bargain peep show.”

My cheeks heat, and I fight the urge to tug on my dress. I’m wearing more than almost any woman in here. And I think I’ve been fairly tame compared to the hellish torrent I could have unleashed on him.

It’s like he’s antagonizing me on purpose.

Fine. If he wants a fight, then it’s time to lace up the gloves.

“What do I have to be grateful for?” I push his hand away, and the tumbler crashes into his chest, spilling down his crisp white shirt.

Cal freezes, either stunned by my finger jabbing into his wet chest or the vitriol I’m about to spew.

“The only thing I’m grateful for is that I was fortunate enough to be spared your face for the last eleven years.

Each day without you was categorically better than the last. Even the day my father died was a walk in the park considered to that last morning.

Though unfortunately, it appears my luck is up.

And you’re the only one who can help me.

” I shrug, mouth pinched together in a mocking frown.

“Is that what you want to hear? That the only reason I’m here is because I need you , and how I’d rather swallow broken glass than utter those words, but here I am saying them anyway? ”

Cal doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. The only sign my words have landed is the slight flare to his nostrils. He tilts his head to take a sip of his whiskey, exposing his corded neck.

“Are you done?” he asks, setting the empty glass on the side table and clearing his throat. “Is it my turn now?”

My eyes narrow, but I remain silent.

Cal smirks, leaning forward to speak. “I’ll help you,” he begins, finger twirling around a lock of my hair, “but I’ll need something in return. I wasn’t kidding when I said I needed a wife.” He drops my hair and stands, holding out a hand for me.

I pause for a calculated moment, then allow him to pull me up. He takes the chance to look me up and down, and my face flushes against his appraisal.

“If you agree to the terms, I’ll use every resource at my disposal to help find Mason.”

“What do you mean, find Mason?” I ask. My heart thumps painfully against its cage. “Y ou don’t know where he is? ”

Cal swallows thickly, his eyes never leaving mine. “No.”

I ready to argue, but Cal cuts me off.

“But if you say they sent him into Keane territory and no one’s heard from him since, something must’ve happened.

So here’s my offer: You agree to marry me within the month and move into the Keane residence, remaining in a marital contract for twenty-four months.

In exchange, I locate and return your brother to you, safe and sound. Agreed?”

Two years? My chest tightens, and I gasp in a breath. He’s serious. He’s actually serious. He’ll find Mason, and all I have to do is sacrifice a few years as his…wife.

The thought makes me dizzy, and I sway. Cal steadies me with a hand to my elbow, eyebrows drawing together as he inspects me.

“Mr. Keane?” a voice says from next to us.

The server is back, but she has no drink to offer. The green-eyed monster I thought I was better than rushes to the surface, and my gaze snaps to Cal.

“No women.” The two words are piercing, and I see the moment he understands, a minute twitch in the jaw, but Cal covers it easily .

“No men,” he counters. “I won’t allow my wife to embarrass me in such a manner.”

I scoff. “If I were your wife , you wouldn’t have a damn say over what— or who —I do.” I hear the hypocrisy, the double standard, but I can’t help the fact that he’s under my skin, and I need to have the last word.

Cal steps into my space, forcing me to look up at him. The fire crackles behind him, casting a golden glow around his frame. His usually chocolate-brown waves are ablaze with an auburn fire, and his brown eyes shine with a curious emotion.

“The only cock my wife will worship is mine .” His breath smells faintly of whiskey, and his sandalwood cologne wafts over me. It’s a heady combination that sends me back years.

Cal trails a finger along my jaw, speaking softly so no one else can hear. “I hadn’t thought to add that into the contract yet, but if you’d like to amend the terms, I’m more than willing to consider it.”

“Don’t push it.” I flick his hand away from my face, and Cal chuckles.

A throat clears next to us, and we look over to the server. A berry blush flushes her rich, brown complexion. She looks everywhere but at us.

“Kyra, dear,” Cal says, finally acknowledging her presence. “Meet me at our door.”

My mouth drops open. His audacity is astonishing. “What happened to no women? ”

Cal smirks, a mischievous lilt to the corner of his mouth. “We’re not married yet, Bunny.” His gaze locks onto mine one last time before he leaves me standing by the roaring fire. “Meet me at sunset on the twenty-fifth at Wisteria Pointe. Wear something white.”

I’m frozen, unable to move even as he walks away. What just happened ?

“Oh and, Loren?” He turns back around to face me. “Don’t be late. I’d hate to chase down a runaway bride. But for you, I suppose I can make an exception.”

He spins on his heel with a wink and saunters off, leaving me reeling in the wake of his proposition. Am I actually going to marry this man? This man? Callahan Keane, the man who taught me to never trust another again?

My gaze slices to where Cal’s led into the hallway of private rooms. Kyra opens the door for him, and together, they exit the lounge.

Oh, I am so going to make him regret this.

Since I don’t know where the Park Avenue exit is, I turn and head toward the first club, crossing through the dim hallway.

The two security guards say nothing when I storm past, cutting through the dance floor that seems to be even more packed and pushing through the stairwell.

In the corner, right before the door, I see the dead plant where Hudson instructed to leave the wristband.

Pausing, I click the black band open. How did this night take such a left turn?

I freeze, a knot thickening my throat. If I’ve used all my goodwill up with the Bianchi family, and I’m well and truly on my own, then what’s the harm in keeping it?

Nothing . With a curl to my lips, I shove it into my clutch instead, press open the metal bar, and exit into the night.

The light drizzle from earlier has turned into a heavy downpour, and while it only takes about ten seconds to make my way around the corner and to my car, I still get soaked to my bones.

The door slams behind me, and I dig my phone out of my bag, then toss the clutch onto the passenger seat.

My hair drips onto the black fabric, but I pay it no mind as I dial Hudson’s cell .

It rings twice before he answers.

“You get what you needed?”

“Yes, I did,” I begin, still dizzy from the direction my night took. “Thank you, again.”

A long exhale comes from the other end. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Lo. Did you drop the band where I told you to?”

Mason’s face flashes in my mind, and my hold tightens painfully on my cell. If I ever want to find him, then this is what I have to do. I better get used to it now.

“Goodbye, Hudson.” I hang up the call. The sound of the rain pouring over the metal roof of my Subaru fills the quiet space and gives me something to focus on.

Hudson’s contact flashes on my screen, but I decline his call.

Instead, I make an online appointment with the nearest bridal shop for first thing in the morning.

Upon clicking the submit button, something tightens in my chest, but I ignore it, choosing to shift my car into drive. I step on the gas.

Here comes the bride, all soaked in…li es.