Burn for You Page 2

  “Oh, good heavens!” Her mother’s voice sounded muffled through all the fabric. She could just imagine what her mom was seeing—a huge mountain of dresses with an arm sticking out, like a flagpole, waving a Snickers flag.

  She fought through the dress avalanche and was greeted by a circle of bridesmaids looking down at her.

  Turning to the side, Victoria rubbed her aching tailbone while her face heated with embarrassment.

  “Let me help you up,” Camille said, holding out a hand.

  “Thanks,” Victoria mumbled, standing up.

  “Your reflexes are amazing. You saved the dresses from getting smudged with chocolate.”

  “To be honest, I was trying to save my chocolate from the dresses. Not the other way around.”

  Camille laughed.

  “What on earth were you doing?” Her mother righted the dress rack with Barbie’s help, and everyone started hanging the dresses back up, probably eager to have it cleaned up before the pushy dressing room attendant returned.

  “Just hanging out.”

  “You weren’t hiding from me, were you?” her mother asked.

  “Now, why would I do that?”

  “I know you’re not a fan of all this girly stuff, but we need you to try on a dress.” Loretta pulled Victoria toward one of the dressing rooms—an over-glorified closet with a heavy white curtain.

  “I have no problem with girly stuff,” Victoria said, but her mother was busy finding the dress she wanted her to try on. Her mom thought she didn’t like getting dressed up, but that wasn’t the case at all. She liked putting on a touch of make-up and a fancy dress as much as the next girl. She just didn’t get the opportunity that often. Not when she was in the army. And not now that she was working as a paramedic. Not to mention the fact that anytime she did have an opportunity to glam it up a little, she and her mother had drastically different ideas of what looked good.

  “Here.” Her mom handed her a strapless, periwinkle dress. “Put this on so Camille can see if she likes it on you.”

  “I’m sure I’ll love it on you,” Camille said from the pedestal where Barbie was helping her into a gorgeous ivory wedding gown.

  Victoria gave her a small smile before pulling the curtain and stripping off her sweatshirt and jeans. Wrestling herself into the dress, she strained her ears, hoping that whoever had been gossiping about Graham would pick up where they’d left off.

  Could it be true? Had Graham finally broken it off with that vapid airline attendant he’d been dating?

  Yesterday at work, he’d said he wanted to talk to her—to get her opinion about something, but her ambulance team had been dispatched to a car accident and they’d never connected. Could he have wanted her opinion on breaking up with his girlfriend?

  Nervous excitement made her stomach jittery.

  Graham McAndrew—the Graham McAndrew might be single again.

  For the first time in years, they were both single and living in the same country. In the same state. In the same town even. The thought that their on-again off-again relationship might have a shot at being on-again—for good—was everything she’d been hoping for.

  “Vicki, what’s taking so long? Do you need help?”

  Sighing, Victoria stepped out of the dressing room and offered her back to her mother. She couldn’t grab the zipper because her hands were sweaty. And a little shaky.

  Her mother, however, had no trouble with it. “There. Now turn around, and let’s see.”

  Obediently, Victoria turned and modeled for her mother, Camille, and the other bridesmaids.

  “Oh, I love it,” Camille said, stepping off the pedestal to grab Victoria’s hands. “It’s just perfect for you. And the cocktail length shows off those toned legs of yours.”

  Victoria turned to her mother. “What do you think?”

  “It is lovely,” Loretta said, her voice warm. “But Vicki, what are we going to do about your tattoo?”

  “What about my tattoo?” She glanced down at the colorful butterfly wings that were peeking out above the top of the strapless dress.

  “I just don’t know why you felt you had to mark your lovely skin with a big tattoo where everyone can see it.”

  Victoria chuckled. “What’s the point of having a tattoo if nobody can see it?”

  “One might wonder what the point of having a tattoo is period.”

  “Mom, you know why I have this tattoo.”

  Her mother sighed, lifting her somber brown-eyed gaze up to Victoria’s face. “I know, sweetheart. I remember.”

  At her mother’s sudden silence, Victoria turned to Camille. “If the tattoo bothers the bride, I’ll find a way to cover it up. It doesn’t have to be in your wedding photos.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Camille gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “I love you. And your tattoo. And you look stunning in that dress.”

  “Thank you.” Victoria walked toward the half circle of mirrors to see for herself.

  Camille sidled up behind her and whispered low for Victoria’s ears only. “And I think a certain recently single groomsman is going to think so, too.”

  “You do?” Victoria smoothed the dress over her stomach and hips and looked in the mirror.

  She was glowing. Her short, pixie-like haircut meant there was nothing to cover her face, nothing to hide behind, nothing to detract from the secret smile beginning to emerge. She looked like a woman who finally had a shot at her dreams and was ready to see them through.

  She looked like a Victoria.

  Chapter 2

  Two months later…

  With every footfall, Victoria felt better, stronger. More at peace with herself than at any other point in her day. The wet, packed sand of the Lake Michigan shoreline offered an added resistance, an added challenge that drove her to run harder, run faster. The warm June sun beat down on her shoulders, but the breeze off the lake cooled her skin. Perfect running weather. Her breathing settled into a sustainable pace, and she let her body take over, finding that rhythm that made her feel as if she could run forever.

  Next to her, Graham huffed and puffed laboriously. He hadn’t found his rhythm yet. “I…hate…beach running.”

  “No pain, no gain,” Victoria said.

  Graham didn’t answer. Probably didn’t have the air in his lungs to do so. He was incredibly muscular from long hours in the gym, but while lifting weights had sculpted him into every woman’s dream, his cardiovascular fitness was a little lacking. Part of his break-up therapy had been starting a running regime with Victoria. Two months in and he didn’t like it any more now than he did when they’d started.

  “We’re almost done,” Victoria said when Graham’s pace began to falter. “We can stop after a lap around the fountain.” She turned them away from the beach and toward Dawes Park. They left the sand and hit the path around the fountain. After running in sand, the paved path made her legs rejoice. She quickened her pace.

  “It’s not…a race…Vic.”

  Victoria smiled. “Afraid you’ll lose, McAndrew?”

  He didn’t answer and Victoria let her legs slip into fifth gear. Graham’s pace quickened as well. He was competitive to his core, and Victoria reeled him in, knowing she had another level left in her. At the last second, when it was too late for him to react, she kicked it up another notch, reaching the brick steps several strides before him.

  “Good run, Graham,” she said, sitting down to stretch on the tall steps that doubled as park benches. “Or should I call you Graham-ma?”

  “Very funny,” he said, without even a hint of a smile.

  “Aw, don’t be a sore loser, McAndrew. If you ran with me more regularly than once a week, you’d have no trouble smoking me.”

  “True.” Ego sufficiently stroked, he smiled and sat next to her, putting one leg up on the step to stretch.

  She shouldn’t goad him. If she ever wanted to be seen as more-than-a-friend material, she should probably stop treating him like one of her brothers. But old habi
ts die hard and all that crap.

  She’d been reluctant to put the moves on Graham since his break-up—oh, who was she kidding? She didn’t have any moves. But still, she hadn’t made any effort to break the friend barrier, because she hadn’t wanted to be his rebound fling.

  But two months had passed, and it was time for Graham to move on. Preferably, with her.

  Her first effort to be seen—really seen—by Graham was the fancy schmancy sports bra/tank she’d picked up for their run today. The tag said the cinched lycra material was guaranteed to lift and separate. No sports bra uniboob with this contraption. And flat as she was, she could use all the lift she could get.

  Turning so that she mirrored Graham’s position on the step, she swung a leg up and leaned forward to stretch. If Graham looked up from his toe-touch he’d get an eyeful of her almost-cleavage.

  He didn’t look up.

  “Vic, I’ve got to tell you, you’ve really been a godsend since Tabitha and I broke up.”

  Enough with the Tabitha already. If Victoria heard her name one more time, she might vomit in her mouth.

  Still stretching, he said, “You’ve always been there for me, you know? You’re the one constant in my life. The one person I can always count on.”

  Her breath caught in her lungs. This was it. If he would just look up, maybe she’d see that he’d finally realized what she’d known for years. They belonged together.

  “Not like Tabitha,” he muttered. “Definitely couldn’t count on her.”

  “You’re better off without her, Graham.”

  “You think so?” He looked up, but didn’t seem to notice her lifted and separated girls. Didn’t seem to notice her, really. “I don’t know sometimes. We were together for a long time.”

  “She cheated on you. And not even in a creative way. I mean, the stewardess and the pilot? Could she be any more cliché?”

  “Flight attendant.”

  “Pardon?”

  “They don’t call them stewardesses anymore. They’re flight attendants.”

  Victoria sighed. That was Graham for you. Even after Tabitha had stomped on his heart, betrayed him, and humiliated him, he still felt the need to defend her. The hero complex was strong with this one. It was one of many things she loved about him. He was a good man, plain and simple.

  “And what’s the PC term for adulteress?” she asked.

  “Isn’t it only adultery if the couple is married?”

  “Oh, right. Cheating ho bag then?”

  “Vic,” he said, his tone slightly scolding.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  He smiled, that signature golden-boy smile that never failed to make her stomach dip a little. “It’s okay. I appreciate your loyalty.” He stood, braced his hands on the next step up, and began stretching his calves.

  No longer smiling, he said. “It can’t all be her fault though. Obviously, I wasn’t giving her something she needed if she had to go outside the relationship to get it.”

  “Stop. We’re not rehashing this again. You’re over her. It’s over. It’s been over for two months. That’s eight whole weeks. Fifty-six whole days. And….a shit-ton of hours. It’s time to move on.”

  He nodded. “You’re right, Vic.” He straightened and put his hands on his hips. “See. This is what I mean. What would I do without you?”

  He held out a hand and she took it. He pulled her up from the bench, and true to their routine, they moved to a nearby tree to do their quad stretches. Placing one hand on the trunk for balance, she grabbed her ankle with the other. Feeling a satisfying pull through the front of her thigh, she considered her next move.

  She’d been thinking about it for weeks. Ever since that day at the bridal salon when she’d first heard Graham was single again. “Have you thought about Tony and Camille’s wedding at all?”

  “How do you mean?” he asked, switching legs.

  “Well, maybe your next step in getting over Tabitha is to go to the wedding with someone else.”

  “You mean, like a date?”

  She laughed. “Yeah. Like a date. What else would I be suggesting? A prostitute?”

  Smiling, he lifted his blue-eyed gaze to hers. “I never know with you.”

  Her amusement faded a bit. That was the problem, wasn’t it? He expected her to say inappropriate, unladylike things. Tabitha would never make a hooker joke. There’d be no chance of misinterpreting her meaning. But Victoria? Yeah, she’d probably say something like that. No wonder Graham needed clarification.

  “Hold my feet?” Graham asked, sitting in the grass to start sit-ups.

  “Yeah.” Victoria got down on her knees and held his feet in preparation for his requisite sixty old-fashioned sit-ups. She used her arms to scrunch her girls together a bit, a desperate effort to say, Hey, check this shit out. I’m a girl! I have boobs!

  “Wouldn’t it be kind of boring?”

  “Hmm?” Victoria asked, distracted by the lock of short dark-blond hair falling over Graham’s forehead. With each sit-up, she wanted to brush it away from his eye.

  “For my date. If I’m in the wedding party, won’t she be bored? We won’t be able to sit together at the church or during dinner at the reception.”

  This was her moment. This was exactly what she’d intended to point out to Graham before she got all flustered by his rakish hair. She leaned in a little, giving her girls an extra squeeze. “Well, what if your date for the evening was also in the wedding party?”

  “One of the bridesmaids? But I don’t know any of those chicks very well.”

  Really? Seriously? Did he need to be hit over the head? She wanted him to think this was his idea, but if she left this conversational journey up to him, they’d never get there. So which card to play? Did she say, Well, you know me. Or, did she just agree and say, True, and then give him another minute to get there on his own?

  “Wait,” he said.

  Eureka, he’s found it!

  “What if you were my date?”

  “Me?” she asked, feigning surprise. As if she’d never thought of that.

  Riiiight.

  “Yeah, it’d be perfect.” He sat up one last time and didn’t lean back for any more reps.

  She released his feet and sat back on her heels.

  “We could hang out all night,” he said. “And I wouldn’t have to worry that there’d be any drama. There wouldn’t be any of that first-date getting to know you crap. We could just party. Dance. Have fun.”

  “Yeah?” This sounded like friend-zone talk. Only he’d be wearing a tux and she’d have on a dress and a little make-up.

  “And if things get a little wild, and we have a little too much fun, it won’t be awkward the next day.”

  “It won’t?”

  “Nah. What’s the big deal? We’ve slept together before and it wasn’t a big deal. Why would it be this time?”

  Wasn’t a big deal? Wasn’t a big deal? The summer after her senior year—when she and Graham had been camp counselors at an overnight camp and she’d lost her virginity to him—certainly was a big deal. And so was every time after that, for that matter.

  “Want me to hold your feet?”

  “Sure.” Grateful for the reprieve from answering his question, Victoria assumed the sit-up position. What exactly was he proposing? That they go as friends and perhaps—if they got drunk enough—cash in some benefits? Is that what she wanted?

  Hell, no.

  But…then again, what if something started between them as a result of a friends-with-benefits arrangement? That might not be so bad.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked as she completed her tenth sit-up. “You want to go together? You didn’t have a date anyway, right?”

  She continued her reps, breathing hard so she wouldn’t have to answer right away. He really took her single status for granted, didn’t he? He couldn’t even imagine that she’d have a date.

  Evidently, this damn running tank top wasn’t working.

  Graham
might never see her as girlfriend material. And maybe it wasn’t just her lack of boobs. Maybe he needed the ultra-feminine Tabitha-type in order to feel manly.

  That would never be Victoria.

  All these years, she’d thought it was just terrible timing that kept them apart. When summer camp ended, he’d gone back to college in Iowa, and she’d gone to Illinois State University. She’d never romanticized the idea of long distance. She was realistic enough to know it wouldn’t work for them, and she’d never even asked him to try it.

  They’d had a few reunions though during her college years. A few trysts here and there during school breaks, and when she’d graduated and returned home, they found each other once more. But it would be another summer fling cut short, because she’d already committed to join the army and become a combat medic. And when she’d finally come home for good and landed a position as a paramedic in the same firehouse? He’d been in a long-term relationship.

  Despite the time apart, they’d always kept in touch through e-mail and social media. They were friends, and she’d nurtured a fairly strong hope that someday…

  But he’d been single for weeks now and she still hadn’t made any progress. It was time to face the possibility that it wasn’t just bad timing that had kept them apart all this time. Maybe she needed a character from a Drew Barrymore movie to come and sit her down over a cup of coffee and tell her, point-blank, “Honey, he’s just not that into you.”

  She finished her last rep and leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. “I’m sorry, Graham.” She took a second to catch her breath. “But I already have a date for the wedding.”

  “You do?” His eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly recovered and held his palm up for a high-five. Just like he would’ve done if a guy friend had just announced he’d gotten laid. “Well, good for you, dude.”

  She slapped him a half-hearted high-five. “Thanks.”

  Victoria scooted back and stretched her legs in front of her for one last big stretch. Leaning forward, she touched her toes.