Page 25 of Wildfire (Owl Creek #1)

Renée is bouncing around when I arrive at the table.

I wish I could tell her I have something important I just learned, but finding out that Georgia's ex-boyfriend, Jensen, had worked at the restaurant was only for the Sheriff's ears.

He must be the one that the busboy saw in the alley.

The one who dropped the lighter as he ran.

That, coupled with the fact that he used to be the drummer of Frayed Edge before he moved and Jordy took over, seems like pretty damning evidence.

Jensen moved out of town when he and Georgia broke up. I heard he'd gone to Port Stratton, which wasn't too far away. But was he coming back to town and setting fires? I didn't know the guy well, so I needed to talk to a few people who did and see what the Sheriff had come up with.

I scoot into the booth across from Renée, who is bursting.

"So? What did he say?"

"You're never going to believe it."

"Try me."

"Okay, I'm going on tour! Can you believe it?"

She is almost shouting at this point.

"What? That is amazing! I'm happy for you."

And maybe happy for me. This band is local, which means this is their home base.

"Tell me everything. What happened?"

"They want me to take Georgia's spot as lead singer and rhythm guitarist. We leave at the end of next week. Oh gosh, I said that was okay before asking you if I could stay a few more days."

I reach across the table and lay my hand on hers. "I already said I wanted you to stay. So stay. We'll have a few more days together."

My cheeks are burning, and the air seems to be lighter. It is selfish of me to feel like this is giving me more time to show her why she should stay, but that's the truth. I want her here. "Let's get some burgers and celebrate."

"I know another way we can celebrate later." She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

This woman.

"So, did you take care of whatever you needed to do here?"

"Yeah."

"Firefighter stuff, or…?"

"I can't talk about it. I wish I could. But you are right, it's firefighter stuff."

She nods and bites her lip, which seems to be a tell when thinking of something, and doesn't want to say it out loud.

"What is it? You seem to have something on your mind."

"I feel bad."

"About what?"

"I'm excited about going on tour. This is the happiest I've been since before my mom died. But it's only happening because Georgia got hurt. I'm benefitting from someone else's pain."

"So you feel guilty because you're happy?"

"Yeah."

I haul myself out of my side of the booth, scoot in next to her, and put my arm around her.

"Listen to me, Renée. You had nothing to do with Georgia getting hurt.

So you have no reason to feel guilty. You should be relieved that this band you love can keep making music because you showed up in their lives. "

She nods and looks down as she fiddles with a strand of hair.

"It's just that I've never been…"

"Happy?"

"I guess I thought I somehow deserved all the shit that came my way. I felt bad leaving my dad even though he didn't protect me from my brother's shitty behavior. You know? I guess I decided a while back that I must have done something wrong to deserve what was happening."

"Renée, there's no cosmic scorecard. Bad stuff happens to good people.

Your only responsibility is what you do with what happens, even if the only thing you can do is keep a positive attitude.

How you stepped up and cared for things when your mom died is noble.

If anything, you deserve all this goodness and happiness. "

She looks at me through lowered lids. "You think so?"

"I know so. You've been gone two weeks and are already living your dream."

I hate to admit it, but if there is a cosmic scorecard, it seems like all signs are pointing to her being a successful touring singer. Which means these next few days will be our last together.

My chest tightens, and I want to jump and run out of here. Go for a swim to find some release of the energy that has suddenly washed over me. Instead, I catch the waiter's eye to come take our order.

After we eat, we walk along Main Street to check out the vendors selling sweets, T-shirts, and souvenirs.

At the end of the street, a path opens up to the boardwalk that reaches all the way around the lake, where the boats are.

We stroll along quietly, each in our own thoughts, as we admire the beautiful boats people have brought from miles around.

I greet people I know, many of whom recognize Renée from the night before. We stop and chat with some townsfolk about the festival, the fire, and the show last night. All of them compliment her. She is beaming.

I love this. I love seeing Renée happy and getting the praise and recognition she deserves. Supporting her decision to pursue her dream was the right thing. It was the noble thing. I just wish it didn't hurt like hell.

We walk about halfway around the lake before turning back.

"Cole?"

"Yeah?"

"You're a good man."

"Thanks." I put my arm around her shoulders, and we walk silently as the crowds peter out. I find a bench under a maple tree, and we sit watching the moon rise, casting its glow on the lake.

She rests her head on my shoulder and hums a tune. Then she starts to sing, and her dulcet sound resonates in my chest, soothing my heart. Somehow, the very thing that is taking her away from me is the medicine I need to handle it.

When she finishes, I reach under her chin and lift her face till she looks at me. "You're amazing, Renée. I'm honored you're spending your time with me."

She slides a hand over my leg, inching it up toward my dick. I look around us. There is no one else on the boardwalk.

"Renée," I growl.

"Instead of spending time with me, wanna spend some time inside me, Chief?"

My cock jumps into action.

"Here? Now?"

"There's no one else around. Besides, I have a little fantasy I want to indulge in."

My hands are already on her, and my breath is heavy. I'm not sure I can resist anything she wants. I am hers—all hers, and she doesn't know it.

I lean in close to her ear, nipping at her lobe. "Oh yeah, what's the fantasy?"

"Sex in public. The thrill of getting caught. Especially because of who you are."

I pull back and look at her while my hands continue up her shirt and under her bra. I start to gently pinch her nipple as she writhes next to me.

"Who am I?"

"You're the king of this town."

I chuckle as my mouth works its way down her long, elegant neck, working my way toward that perky nipple. "King?"

"Yeah." She climbs into my lap and straddles me, just like she did last night. Only this time, she isn't trying to comfort me.

"Everyone here looks up to you and treats you like what you say matters. I see the way they look at you when we're out in public. They watch you. They pay attention. And when I'm with you, they treat me that way, too."

"Like you're my Queen?"

She pulls back and looks at me square. I can't tell what is going on in that mind of hers, but when she starts grinding on me, my mind goes blank.

I look around again. There is nobody around. We have the place to ourselves. My cock is pressing against my jeans, aching to be unleashed. I can feel how wet she is through my clothes. She is grinding on me, her skirt flared out, so the only thing between us is her sopping wet panties and my jeans.

I press my thumb against her clit, and she gasps.

"Cole, please."

She throws her head back as she grinds herself into me harder, rubbing herself toward an orgasm. I reach around the back of her, gripping her ass and pressing her into me before I get one hand underneath and slip a finger between her panties and skin.

"Fuck you are so wet." My finger slides inside her, and she groans, her nipples so hard they are pressing against her t-shirt and taunting me. I am already at the point of no return. There is nothing that is going to stop me now.

"Stand up and pull off those wet-ass panties."

She does as she is told, with a look of lust and glee on her face.

I unzip my jeans and pull them down just enough that they won't chaff her but not so much that I can't pull them back up quickly if someone comes by. I reach into my boxers and stroke myself a couple of times while she watches before she kneels in front of me, licking her lips.

"Gimme." She takes me into her hot, wet mouth, and I think I am going to explode right then and there. Who knew having sex in public was such a turn-on?

Her mouth and tongue work me slowly, edging me back into pleasure land until I start to tense again, and I know I'm not going to last long if she keeps it up.

"Renée," I groan. "I want to be inside you."

She pulls her mouth off of my cock, and I almost regret it, but knowing her tight pussy is going to envelop me in mere moments only turns me on more.

I pull a condom out of my wallet and wrap up Little Chief before she climbs back over me.

She lines herself up and then slides ever-so-slowly down around me.

Heaven and earth collide when she takes me all the way in. She is everything, and I want to be everything for her.

She starts moving. Her legs are wrapped around me, so long they touch the ground behind me.

She uses it as leverage and starts grinding again, pulling herself almost off of me and then pressing me back in.

Fireworks are going off in my head. The stars in the sky are nothing compared to what I feel inside, and I know I won't last. Not with my hands on her full, round tits and her pussy riding me.

"You feel so good inside me, Cole. I love it when you're inside me."

"Anytime you want, my Queen. My wild and fiery Queen."

"Cole, I'm… I'm…"

She is riding me so hard she can't talk.

No matter—mere moments later, her back is arched, she groans out my name, and I know what she was trying to say.

I watch as she jerks and rides out her orgasm before I pull out of her, bend her over the bench, and rail her until my fireworks turn into a full Fourth of July display.

Her body stretches limply over the back of the bench while I pull off the condom, tie it up, and walk it over to the nearest trash bin.

She has a devilish grin when I turn around and walk back toward her.

"We have to do that again before I leave."

I chuckle as she straightens her skirt, picks her panties off the ground, shoves them in my back pocket, and starts walking back toward Main Street.

"C'mon. I gotta go pee so I don't get a UTI."

"Such sweet talk," I tease her as I catch up and sling my arm around her shoulder.

"Sorry. Did I cross a line?"

"Not at all. I'm joking. It's good you take care of your body."

"Someone has to."

"Hey," I stop her and make her look at me. “I will always take care of you."

She nods, and I think I notice her eyes glassing up. She turns back toward the road. "Let's go home. I have to practice."

Right. Because she's leaving.