Play With Fire

2. Jasmine

Chapter Two

Jasmine

Bright light woke me, the sun warm on my face. Ugh. My head was pounding. It took me a moment to get my bearings. Opening my eyes slowly, first one and then the other, I glanced around, realizing that I was in Levi and Lucy’s guest bedroom. I was fully dressed with my blouse twisted around my waist. I vaguely recalled waking at the sound of Levi’s voice last night and shuffling up the stairs from the couch to the guest bedroom.

My mind flashed back to the evening before. A man—a classically handsome, tall, dark, and sexy-as-f*****g-hell man—had driven me here last night.

For the life of me, I couldn’t remember his name. But I had a crystal-clear picture of what he looked like and the way his mouth felt against mine.

I flung my arm over my face, my cheeks getting hot. Said man had almost black hair and rich hazel eyes. I remembered looking into them, the layered colors of green and gold mingled with nutmeg. His face had clean lines—sculpted cheekbones, a square jaw, a slightly crooked nose as if he’d been in a fight, and a sensual mouth with a dimple in the center of his chin.

Even though my memories were blurry, I recalled that he’d made me feel safe. As mortified as I was that I’d kissed him, I was positive I’d seen a flicker of desire in his eyes.

Who the hell was he?

I’d have to figure that out later. For now, I had to sort out who I would be facing here. I wasn’t quite ready to face my brother, especially not with a hangover. I adored Levi, but he could be overprotective. I’d come home unexpectedly, without any advance warning, so I knew there would be questions. Levi thought I was too wild, too reckless, or so he’d said once upon a time. I hoped my options were no one, or my sister-in-law, Lucy. I could handle Lucy.

I slowly dragged my arm away from my face and rubbed my eyes with my fists. Moving carefully and trying not to jostle my pounding head too much, I swung my feet over the side of the bed and straightened up gingerly.

Opening the door a c***k, I listened to see if I could hear any voices. Silence greeted me, so I pulled the door open and walked toward the bathroom. I paused for a moment when I rounded the edge of the balcony upstairs. I loved this house. Levi had built it himself. The upstairs had a balcony that wrapped along three sides of the house with windows extending from the lower floor to the peak in the roof upstairs in the front of the house.

Mist rose off the field outside, the sun angling across the dew-covered grasses and flowers in the field. The home offered a view of a field with a small pond to the side. Spruce and birch trees were scattered in the field and gradually thickened into forest with the mountains rising tall in the distance. My heart gave a hard thump. Alaska was home to me, and my heart knew it.

Glimpsing over the balcony railing, I scanned the living room below. As far as I could tell, it appeared no one else was here. With a sigh, I shuffled into the bathroom and paused to take a look at myself. My hair was a tousled mess, and my cheek had an imprint of the wrinkled sheets against it. My eyes were puffy and bleary.

In short, I looked like hell. I could only hope that when I’d made a pass at tall, dark, and sexy last night, I hadn’t looked this bad. I was about to strip out of my clothes when I saw a note taped to the shelf by the shower in front of a clean stack of towels.

Morning, Jasmine. Levi’s off at the station, and I’m out running a few errands. Here’s a change of clothes. I’ll see you when I get back. To start the coffee, just turn it on. There are bagels and cream cheese in the fridge. Glad you’re home.

Lucy

PS: Levi’s wondering what the hell is going on.

I started laughing. Because what else was there to do? Lucy was the best sister-in-law. She was also sarcastic and kind of quirky, which made her even better.

Peeling out of my clothes, I climbed in the shower, sighing at the feel of the hot water pouring over me. That alone eased my headache a bit.

As I showered, a few more memories filtered in from last night. Specifically, of the i***t who grabbed my a*s before I punched him.

I couldn’t wait to hear what Levi had to say about that.

After I showered, I downed two Ibuprofen I found in the medicine cabinet and made my way downstairs in the clothes Lucy had left for me. She was smaller than me, but she tended to wear loose clothes. Her comfy sweatpants and T-shirt fit just fine.

Seeing as I couldn’t go anywhere, it didn’t really matter how I looked. After I started the coffee, toasted a bagel, and slathered it with cream cheese, I sat down at the kitchen table to eat. I felt halfway human after some coffee and a few bites of my bagel.

The tension bundled inside of me started to ease slowly. Five days ago, I’d stopped by my apartment to pick up my lunch after I forgot to bring it to work. My life in San Francisco consisted of working my a*s off at a pottery cooperative because I loved it and working at an art gallery to make ends meet. I worked insane hours and was rarely home during weekdays. My mind spun back to the memorable, ugly afternoon that set the wheels in motion for me to return to Alaska.

I arrive at the apartment I share with my fiancé to grab my lunch. f*****g starving. As soon as I unlock the door and step inside, I hear a thumping sound. Because I could be a spectacular i***t sometimes, I do exactly what they tell you not to do in horror films and follow the sound, right to our bedroom door. Unsure if I’m about to walk into the middle of a robbery, I’d grabbed a vase from the table by the front door, ready to throw it at someone if I had to. I start to open the door when a cold prickle runs up my spine and my gut clenches.

With the door swung fully open, a sick feeling overtakes me as I see Glen, my fiancé, on his back, and Lisa, the assistant manager from the gallery where I worked, straddling him, in all her n***d glory. To say they were going to town might be an understatement.

That thumping sound? That’s the headboard hitting the wall, over and over and over again. She’s gripping it with her hands, so every time she moves, it bounces against the wall. I’m in such a state of shock, I just stand there, watching them, trying to recall the last time Glen and I’d had s*x. About three weeks, maybe?

I’d chalked it up to being too busy. We both had crazy schedules and sometimes passed like ships in the night for days at a time. Obviously, that wasn’t the issue.

In the throes of their rather enthusiastic f*****g, it takes them a moment or two to notice my presence, and the tension I’d been feeling before I walked in quickly morphs into anger.

Lisa, my now former sort of friend, looks over her shoulder. “Oh s**t!”

She starts to move, desperately looking around for something to cover up with, but I’m surprisingly calm. “Just carry on. I won’t be hanging around.”

I walk out of the room, calling over my shoulder, “Be out of here within the hour. I’ll be back to get my stuff, and I don’t want to see either one of you.”

I hear someone scrambling off the bed, and then footsteps.

“Jasmine, it’s not what you think!” Glen calls out.

I spin back to find him hurrying out of the bedroom, wrapping a sheet around his waist. I take a moment to stare at him. “There’s not much to think about for me to interpret what I just saw. We’re done.”

Tears are threatening, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let them see me fall apart. I cling to my anger like a shield. Because it’s all I have. “Be out of here in an hour.”

He hurries after me, but I leave, slamming the door in his face.

That was five days ago. Thinking back, I couldn’t quite believe I managed to think at all. At least he’d had the decency to be gone when I came back. I’d packed up all my clothes, took all my pottery and put it in my car, and left. I’d spent the night with another friend and then drove home to Willow Brook. I’d considered staying, but I managed to get myself fired on the same day.

I had a bit of a temper sometimes. That same afternoon, it wasn’t a shocker that I was in a pissy mood at the gallery after my lunch break. Working in an art gallery wasn’t really a great fit for my personality, to be honest, but I’d needed the money.

I preferred to have my hands dirty while throwing pottery, not dolling myself up and being polite and gracious to the rich people who spent money on art. I’d been a little emotionally overwhelmed and so out of sorts inside that I’d publicly confronted Lisa when she returned to the gallery. I couldn’t believe she’d had the nerve, but then she was a step above me there. The manager didn’t appreciate me calling her second-in-command a w***e, and fired me on the spot. No job, no fiancé, and no money.

I hadn’t been thinking it through, but the next morning, I pointed my car north and drove home to Alaska. It took me four days to get here.

Just now, emotion finally pushed through that shield of anger, the cracks in it spreading rapidly. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks as I cried, so hard I was hiccupping. While trying to catch my breath, I felt a tickle on my foot. Glancing down, my brother’s hamster, aptly named Ham, was sniffing at my feet. Brown and white, little Ham looked up at me as if he somehow understood how upset I was. I sniffled, dragging my sleeve across my face, and managed to smile at Ham. Leaning over, I stroked my fingertips across his back. He sniffed my hand and then scurried away.

I watched as he climbed up a step stool that Levi left there for him to scurry across the windowsill and into a little pillow bed. Only my brother—my hotshot firefighter, badass brother—would have a hamster he let run loose in the house and treated like a king.

My tears subsided. I didn’t like thinking about all the reasons why I was back in Willow Brook. Instead, I took a sip of my coffee and contemplated my next steps. I’d come here in a huff and had no plan. For a huff, I sure had to drive a long damn way to get here.

I’d left Willow Brook straight out of high school. Our family had moved here from Juneau, right before my freshman year. I was an Alaskan girl born and bred, and had yearned to see the bigger world beyond it. I landed in San Francisco and loved many aspects of the place I’d call home for the foreseeable future—the hum and busyness of the big city, the eclectic mix of people, the quaint buildings, and the art … so much art. I’d finished college and started working at a studio, falling in love with making pottery. There were some things I hadn’t loved so much though. For example, apparently lots of people were gluten sensitive and most of them were vegan. I loved bread and I ate meat, and I didn’t intend to change that anytime soon.

I never quite felt like I fit in. I was perhaps too rough around the edges, and certainly not glamorous enough. While I wasn’t a full-on tomboy, I definitely bordered on it. I preferred to wear jeans and boots and T-shirts while I worked, dressing up only when necessary. Cowboy boots were practically a uniform for me.

I’d also missed Alaska. Once the novelty of seeing the wider world had worn off, there was always a little ache in my heart—longing for the midnight sun of summer days, the crisp snowy nights, and the sense of feeling like I belonged, no matter who I was.

That was a funny quality here. Alaska was filled with so many transplants that you could find every kind of person. There were plenty of gluten-free vegans, but they rubbed shoulders with the fishermen and hunters and then some. There was a high tolerance for to each their own here.

And, oh my God, I’d missed the view. Just now, looking out over the field outside the kitchen window, that tight ball of tension and hurt eased. Oddly, I was more hurt by Lisa’s actions than Glen’s. While she’d sort of been my boss, until the other day, I’d have considered her a friend.

That was like a rule, right? You didn’t f**k your friend’s fiancé.