Ignite The Spark Between Us: Searing Saviors #4 Read online

  I’d been worried about telling her about my date with Mav since about five minutes after he asked me. She’d be judgemental, wary, and protective. She’d think it was a bad idea. I had no doubt about it since our talk at Searing Grill the other day.

  “Allie?” Candice turned to face me. There was skepticism lingering in the creases at the corners of her mouth. “What’s up?”

  “Mav asked me on a date.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”

  I nodded. “He wants to take me out to dinner tomorrow.”

  “And what did you say?” Candice screwed the lid of a candle back on, set it on the shelf, and popped out one hip, resting her hand on it as she stared evenly at me.

  “I said yes.”

  “Allie,” Candice groaned.

  “What? It’s a harmless night out. We’re just going for dinner. Nothing serious.”

  “And that’s how he feels, too?”

  I paused. “Um. Well, I don’t know. How would I know that?”

  “Did you ask him?”

  “Of course not.”

  Candice shook her head at me. “You’re walking a fine line, Allie. A firefighter and the father of one of your students? What, you bored with the mundane ritual of your life or something?”

  “No,” I said sharply.

  “Then what is it? I warned you this was a bad idea, and here you are, burying yourself deeper. What if this goes badly? What if the school finds out? What will the other parents think?”

  I wanted to say I didn’t care, but part of me did. I didn’t want my reputation to suffer because of my dating life.

  But at the same time, I didn’t want my quality of life to suffer due to my lack of a dating life.

  “It’s just dinner, Candice. I like him. I think it’s worth having one meal together to see if there’s even something there besides the flirty looks we give each other before and after school.”

  Candice didn’t say anything. She just stared calmly at me.

  I lifted my chin. “It’s not like I need your approval.”

  “No. You don’t.”

  “Good. Then we’re on the same page.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Candice, please don’t be upset with me. You’re always saying I need to step out of my comfort zone. I can’t pick and choose who I’m attracted to. Just give me an inch. Please? I’m not a reckless person. I’ll be careful.”

  Candice was quiet for a minute. Then her shoulders slumped, and she looked up at the ceiling like there was something up there that could help her talk some sense into her silly friend.

  There wasn’t.

  “You’re right,” Candice conceded. “I’m being a diva. You should go on your date, and you should have a good time. I hope you do. But I have one condition.”

  “Anything.”

  Candice grinned like the devil incarnate. “You let me help you get ready. No cutesy tops from your closet. No long hemlines. No prudish hairstyles. We’re going to jazz you the fuck up and show this firefighter what you’ve been hiding.”

  “My hairstyle is not prudish.”

  “Oh no?” Candice folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head to the side. The smile she wore was as cocky as her posture. “How were you going to style it, then? Wait, let me guess. A—”

  “Ponytail,” I finished.

  “Ponytail.” She nodded. “Yeah, exactly. Girl, I love you, but you need help. Lots and lots of help. And lucky for you, your bestie knows exactly how to get a man’s heart pumping blood straight to his co—”

  “Candice!”

  Candice strutted past me and began plucking clothes off their racks and tossing them into my arms. “You’re trying these on. And tomorrow, I’m coming over to help you with your hair and makeup. No more plain Jane, babe. If you’re doing this against my wishes, then you’d better do it damn well.”

  As I followed her around the shop, I realized I didn’t have much of a say in any of this. Candice had made up her mind to help me, and I was simply going to be a passenger in the vehicle of her decision.

  I was okay with that. She had good taste. And truth be told, the idea of knocking Mav’s socks off with my new look was an appealing one. Maybe he’d see me as a sexy woman, as opposed to a wholesome kindergarten teacher.

  Hell, maybe I’d see myself that way.

  “Keep up, Allie! We have work to do. We’re going to need to get you a pair of heels, too. Maybe you can borrow a pair of mine.”

  “I can’t walk in heels.”

  “Good thing he’s taking you to dinner and you’ll spend most of your time sitting down then.” She turned toward me with a wink. “Or on your back.”

  17

  Mav

  My reflection didn’t sit well with me.

  It had been a long time since I’d bothered to put any real effort into my appearance. The parent-teacher meeting was the most recent practice I’d had at putting on a tie, and it apparently hadn’t paid off very well because it took me six tries to get it to sit right this evening.

  Well, six and a half.

  I’d never untied it from when I tried to wear it to the meeting that Friday night, hoping I’d be able to salvage the knot. Upon putting it on twenty minutes ago, I discovered that I could not save it, and I had to start over.

  But standing there looking at myself, I concluded I hadn’t done that bad of a job.

  In fact, I looked almost respectable.

  As always, I was clean-shaven. My shirt, a white linen button-up, had been laid out on the bed for me when I got out of the shower. My grandmother had been appalled by the wrinkles and saw fit to iron them out for me, which led to her preparing my entire ensemble.

  “You’re a grown man,” I said to my own reflection. Having a grandmother iron your shirts and lay out your clothes at this age was a tad humiliating, but I appreciated her efforts. I looked better than I would have if I’d been left to my own devices.

  My jeans were dark blue, and my brown leather shoes matched my belt. I raked my fingers through my hair, rolled up the sleeves of my shirt, and left the bedroom.

  Olivette and my grandmother were in the kitchen, whipping up a baking storm. Flour and salt and sugar were spread out all across the kitchen counters like fresh snow, and Olivette even had some in her hair. When I came into the kitchen, she turned, looked me up and down, and smiled.

  “You look nice, Daddy,” she said.

  I glanced at my grandmother and smiled. “Thank you. A little fairy laid out my clothes for me. She has good taste.”

  “A fairy?” Olivette asked.

  I nodded. “Yes. A very clever, very sneaky fairy.”

  My grandmother hid her smile by putting her back to me and cracking two eggs in a bowl.

  Olivette rushed over to me. “Nana and I are making cookies. You can have some when you get home.”

  “Chocolate chip cookies?”

  Olivette nodded.

  I patted my stomach in a circle. “Sounds delicious. I’ll make sure to have room in my belly for my daughter’s cookies. My mouth is already watering.”

  “You’re going to be late,” my grandmother said in a sing-song voice. Her back was still to me, and even though she was singing the words, I could still hear the command in her tone: Hurry the hell up before you blow your chance with the first girl you’ve gone out with since your wife died, Mav. Move!

  I went to her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and kissed her soft, wrinkly cheek. “I’m going. I’m going. Don’t wait up. I might be late.”

  “With any luck,” my grandmother muttered.

  Olivette hugged me from behind, and I turned around and scooped her up for a big bear hug. “I’ll see you in the morning, kiddo. Take it easy on Nana. Maybe you two can have a nice relaxing night watching a movie or something?”

  Olivette snuggled her cheek into mine. “Okay. Love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you too.”

  When I pulled up to the address Allie had give
n me, I found myself in front of a modern condo building. It was called the Wynnwood Estates. I counted twenty floors in total, with what appeared to be a penthouse at the very top with two stories worth of floor-to-ceiling windows.

  I was admiring the structure, all clean lines and dramatic angles, when Allie emerged through the towering front doors and came toward me down the smooth-paved path lined in brightly colored flowers.

  Damn.

  Allie sure didn’t look like Ms. Branson tonight.

  She looked like a tall drink of water with a sway to her hips and a purpose to each step she took. The heels of her red pumps clipped at the pavement, and I tried to stop myself from looking up and down the length of her body, but her curves were too tempting to deny.

  Her legs were on display, the muscles in her calves and thighs flexing with every step. She wore a mid-thigh length black dress that hugged her body. It was cut high at the neck but showed off her arms and shoulders. I’d had no idea she had such a body under the clothes she wore to work.

  I supposed it made sense. A kindergarten classroom wasn’t where you made a statement about your sexuality. But here? Here, she was making a statement. And a loud one.

  She was sexy. Dangerously sexy.

  My tongue was still stuck to the roof of my mouth when she drew up close and tucked a strand of long copper hair behind her ear. “Were you waiting long?”

  I shook my head. “No, not at all. Just pulled up.” Thank God my mouth was working.

  She smiled. “Good. I thought I was running behind.”

  “You’d have been worth the wait.” The words sort of tumbled out of me before I realized I was saying them. Terrified I’d said too much too fast, I began to apologize.

  Allie held up a hand. “It’s all right. I’m flattered.” She tightened her grip on a small red purse she held in front of her in both hands. “You look quite dashing yourself.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been called dashing before.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever called someone dashing.” She giggled.

  I offered her my arm. “Shall we go? We don’t want to miss our reservation.”

  “Reservation? Wow. You’re pulling out all the stops, Mr. Cantone.”

  Allie seemed even more impressed later when I pulled into the parking lot of Searing’s best Italian restaurant, Tratetello’s. It had a charming patio off the second level encased in glass sliders. Tumbling plants hung from baskets mounted on the ceiling, giving the place an exotic vibe. Little twinkling lights wove through the plants overhead, and when I pulled out Allie’s chair for her, I marveled in the way her green eyes danced as she gazed up at the lights.

  “This place has always made me feel like I’m in a magic garden,” she said as she draped her napkin over her lap.

  It had never made me feel that way. Not until this moment sitting across from her, seeing the way she marveled at the simple splendor of the decor of a local restaurant. Sometimes, it was the simple things. And this moment, simple as it was, was undeniably perfect.

  We mulled over the wine list together. I learned that Allie preferred red on most occasions but enjoyed a sweet and cold glass of Moscato on very hot evenings. Like tonight. So we each ordered a glass of Moscato. It came chilled, and soon, the glasses were sweating and leaving little round rings of moisture on the white tablecloths.

  “Can I make a confession?” Allie asked after we’d both been quiet for a couple of minutes as we studied the food menu.

  “Yes,” I said.

  She pressed her glossy pink lips together. “I… I was very nervous about coming out with you this evening.”

  “Why? I don’t bite.”

  She smiled in response to mine. “I know that. I just… I don’t know. I felt uneasy about going to dinner with the parent of one of my students. Do you think it’s odd?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t think it’s conventional, but I also don’t think it’s rare. I’m sure people do this kind of thing all the time. You can’t help it sometimes.”

  “Can’t help it?”

  “If there’s an attraction there, sometimes you have to run with it. Otherwise, the opportunity will pass you by, and you’ll be left scratching your head, wondering why you never had the nerve to go for the thing you wanted when you had the chance.”

  Allie turned neon pink under the twinkling lights. “Is that what I was? Something you wanted? A chance worth taking?”

  I hadn’t meant to expose myself like that, but I wasn’t flustered. In fact, I was more at ease now with her than I ever had been. “Yes, you were. Does that bother you?”

  “No,” Allie said hurriedly. “No. Not at all. I think it’s kind of romantic.”

  “Are you a romantic person?”

  Allie swept her hair over her shoulder like she could hide behind it. “I think so. Yes. But I haven’t had many opportunities to find out.”

  “You mean there isn’t a line of men banging on your front door, begging you for a date?”

  “None.” She smiled. “Well. Except you.”

  She gazed at me, and I gazed right back at her. There was something in the air between us, a steady and electric crackling of energy. I suspected—no, I knew—that was the feeling they called chemistry. And I hadn’t felt it since my wife was alive.

  It caught me off guard like a punch to the gut, and I looked down at my menu. “We should probably order before we get too hungry.”

  Hungry for each other.

  Allie followed my lead and scanned her menu. When we’d both set them aside, the server came by our table, topped off Allie’s wine glass, and took our orders. Once she was gone, Allie and I proceeded to talk about school and teaching and the students in her classroom.

  “Kids get a bad rap,” Allie said. “They come into class with a target already painted on their backs because other adults have labeled them as ‘troubled’ or ‘difficult’. And it’s really quite unfair. I mean, take Brady Tully for example. I was warned by several other teachers that he was a nightmare. Can you imagine that? A preschool student being called a nightmare by grown adults.” Allie shook her head in disgust. “It’s deplorable.”

  “And is he?”

  “Is he what?” she asked over the rim of her wine glass.

  “A nightmare?”

  “No. Not even a little bit. He’s a little boy who’s desperate for attention because he doesn’t get it at home, so he lashes out. But in my classroom, he’s seen. Heard. I make sure to have moments with him, just the two of us, so he can see that I care about him and that I’m invested. It makes all the difference in the world.”

  “Is it hard being a teacher and seeing the way some parents are with their kids?”

  Allie studied me. Her green eyes shimmered, and I took note of the streaks of hazel and gold within their olive and emerald depths. “Yes. Very hard. Luckily, the good parents make up for the bad ones. Like you, Mav.”

  I chuckled and shook my head. “My shit is a mess, Allie. I’m a single dad who can barely get his kid to school on time. I hardly think I classify as a good example.”

  Allie reached across the table and put her hand on mine. “You’re wrong. You’re the best example. You’re the father who’s always there for his daughter. Olivette lights up when she sees you. And you light up when you see her. The love is so open and obvious, everyone in the room can feel it. It’s beautiful. Olivette is a lucky girl.”

  “You have it backward. I’m the lucky one.”

  Her thumb ran in a slow circle along the back of my hand. “Yes, you are. But so is she. Don’t sell yourself short. The reason I said yes to this date is because of how you are with her. It’s… inspiring. Does that sound lame?”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get in my pants by flattering me.”

  Allie burst out laughing and covered her mouth with her hand. Her cheeks were still bright pink—so pink that there was no darker shade they could turn.

  I laughed along with her. �
��Sorry. Was that rude?”

  She shook her head but couldn’t speak through her laughter. “I didn’t expect it. It was funny.”

  I was suddenly very aware of the feeling she spoke of earlier, of being in a magic garden. Her laughter danced around me, light and bubbly, and so did the soft scent of her perfume. Lavender and rose and honey. I breathed in the smell of her, combined with the rich aromas of the pasta on other plates around us. The wine buzzed on my tongue, and I watched her purse her lips to the edge of her glass and take a sip.

  I liked the way her throat moved when she swallowed.

  With any luck, this night wouldn’t end with dinner. With any luck, she would want to spend more time with me when the meal was done.

  18

  Allie

  Mav reached forward and turned off the air conditioning in his truck a couple of minutes after we pulled out of Tratetello’s parking lot. The windows were rolled down, and the evening had cooled off significantly, at least enough for us to enjoy the fresh air blowing through the cab.

  He tapped his index finger on the clock, which read nine o’clock. “Still early.”

  Maybe that was his way of asking if we could prolong the night. If it was, I was right there on the same page with him. Dinner had been wonderful. We talked about all kinds of things, and I spent the entirety of it staring at him, resisting the urge to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

  Mav was so far out of my league.

  “It is still early,” I echoed.

  The drive went by faster than I’d anticipated. One minute, we’re making small talk about the time, neither of us seemed willing to state the obvious: that we wanted to spend more time together. The next minute, we were pulling up to the curb outside my apartment building. The lights of the units above cast an amber glow down on the pavement, stretching the shadows of trees into long, spindly fingers.

  “Would you like to come up for a cup of tea?” I asked, daring not to look over at him as I gripped the door handle and angled myself toward the door for a fast escape if he said no.