Up In Flames. Kira Sinclair

       3

      “LOLA IS NOT the kind of woman you screw around with, you asshole,” Erik bit out. He didn’t care that half the town was watching, and the other half would know about this fight before he’d managed to clean up his raw knuckles.

      Outrage had been building inside him since the moment Lola had walked away last night. Her parting words echoed through his head like the pounding drumbeat of some ancient war chant.

      She hadn’t been there to see him. She’d been there to see Sean.

      Which might not have been a problem, except Sean had been in Charleston to meet up with a woman he was seeing. That was why Erik had been covering his shift.

      Gage and Evan moved to intervene, but rubbing his jaw with one hand, Sean held up the other to stop them. He moved into a clearer space so he’d have room to maneuver. Not a complete moron, then.

      No, Erik already knew that about Sean. They’d grown up together, despite the fact the other man was a couple of years younger than him. Sweetheart was a small town, the firehouse even smaller.

      Throwing another punch, Erik felt the impact as it reverberated up his arm and into his shoulder. His knuckles burned. It had been a damn long time since he’d gotten into a fistfight.

      “You can’t play fast and loose with Lola like that. You sure as hell shouldn’t be seeing someone else while you’re sleeping with her. She’s the kind of woman who expects—and deserves—respect and monogamy when she’s with a guy.”

      “Whoa,” Sean said, countering with a punch of his own. He could tell the guy was holding back, but it still hurt like hell when Sean’s fist connected with the underside of his jaw. Erik’s head snapped back.

      “Lola and I aren’t sleeping together. We flirt and cut up, but she isn’t interested in me.”

      “Erik, stop this. Now,” Lola roared.

      Neither of them listened, though Sean did back away, his fists dropping just a little. “What in God’s name made you think that I’m sleeping with Lola?”

      “Because she crawled into your bunk last night half-naked, unaware that I’d picked up your shift.”

      Lola groaned. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her sag against Colt’s chair. Heat flamed up her face before she buried it in her brother’s shoulder. The back of her neck was a matching brilliant shade of red.

      “She did what?” Sean asked, genuine shock making his jaw go slack. “Lola...”

      She finally looked up at Sean, a sheepish expression on her face. “So, I had a couple drinks last night and came up with what turned out to be a very stupid idea.”

      Sean shook his head, clearly dumbfounded. “You aren’t really interested in me.”

      Lola pushed upright, gaining her feet and her composure. Everyone in the place was staring at her, but she didn’t seem to care. “No. This really has nothing to do with you, and I’m sorry to drag you into it.”

      Sean shrugged, rubbing the side of his jaw that would no doubt be sporting bruises tomorrow. “You know I’d help you any way you needed, Lola. And sleeping with you would have been less than a hardship. You’re gorgeous and sexy as hell.”

      Lola’s lips quirked. “Thanks. I think.”

      Erik’s hands balled into fists, but Lola’s words finally started to sink in, penetrating the fog of outrage that had been building inside him all day. “Wait, you didn’t know she was coming to see you?”

      “Nope,” Sean said.

      Erik’s narrowed gaze swung to Lola.

      She stared at him, her only response a miniscule shrug of her shoulders. “I’m a big girl, Erik. I get to sleep, or not sleep, with whomever I want. Whenever I want. I don’t owe anyone an explanation.”

      Oh, that was where she was damn wrong.

      But for the first time since he’d barreled into the bar, he realized—and cared—about the spectacle they were creating.

      Because as pissed as he’d been about Sean’s supposed treatment of Lola, what he’d just done wasn’t much better.

      “I’m sorry,” he said.

      Anger mingling with humor flashed through Lola’s gaze. She threw an arm out, taking in the entire bar. “Little late for that, don’t you think?”

      “Well,” Colt said drily, “as much as I’ve enjoyed the entertainment for the night, I think it’s time for everyone to go to their separate corners and chill out for a little while. Erik, why don’t you drive me home?”

      Erik’s gaze dragged reluctantly from Lola down to Colt, the man who had once been his closest friend. The brother he’d never had. But that was long ago. He used to be able to judge this man’s moods as quickly as he’d been able to judge Lola’s.

      Now, both of them were strangers. And he hated that. Colt had lost the use of his legs the night of the accident, and Erik would never forgive himself for his role in that. But he’d lost so much that night, as well. Maybe more.

      He’d lost the woman he loved, the brother he’d never had, his surrogate family and the man who’d stepped in and become his father figure.

      When everything had happened in California a few weeks ago and he’d found himself on forced leave for two months, the only thing he’d wanted was to come home and lick his wounds.

      He should have known that the ones still festering deep inside would just get ripped back open and add to the misery.

      Colt’s gaze, the same deep brown as Lola’s, stared back at him, steady and completely unreadable. For a split second Erik wondered if the other man just wanted to get him alone so he could rip him a new one without an audience.

      Not that he didn’t deserve it.

      “Yeah, okay.” Backing up, he gestured for Colt to lead the way. Chairs scraped across the floor behind him, and soft voices murmured. Someone flipped on the music that had stopped after he threw the first punch.

      At the door, he couldn’t prevent himself from glancing behind him. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted her to be watching him leave or ignoring