Head Over Heels

By Remmy Duchene

Firefighter Christian Shane, badly scarred from a fire that ravished a city block, runs away from New York to Beacon Cove, hoping to hide away in his family's beach house. All he wants is to be left alone.

Case Jenkins never met a sexy, muscled stud he liked. They were always jocks and always dicks—plain and simple. He was too much of a nerd and not built like a brick house. But when he sees Christian Shane, he can't control himself. Nothing worth having ever comes easy, and Case isn't quite sure he has enough patience. But there’s a mad-man trying to burn down the world, and in the end, both men must come to terms with their feelings.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Publishing
• Release date: Jun 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781771308694

Remmy Duchene

Born on the island of Jamaica, Remmy Duchene began writing at a very young age. She now lives in Canada where she spends most of her time free time, when not writing or working the EDJ, with family, taking pictures, looking for the next sin-spiration and trying desperately to cook the next great dish.

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Published by Evernight Publishing at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2014 Remmy Duchene

ISBN: 978-1-77130-869-4

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: Tricia Kristufek

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To Nessa

HEAD OVER HEELS

Remmy Duchene

Copyright © 2014

Chapter One

Christian’s nightmares had gotten progressively worse over the past two days. Since he could do nothing but sleep, there was no way to avoid it. Every time he drifted off, he woke up in a cold sweat. The first few times he jerked awake, he heard someone screaming. Then he realized the sound was coming from him as he clutched at his throat. The machines beeped furiously and his nurse rushed in, pleading with him to be careful.

He felt like a moron.

He’d chosen the career, and the moment the bad of it raised its ugly head, Christian felt useless and confused. When he thought deeper about it, he felt discarded and betrayed. For so long he hungered to become a firefighter and worked tirelessly toward his dream. During his fight to make his dream come true, everything else had fallen by the wayside, and somewhere over the years he’d become a sheltered, jaded ass.

Christian sacrificed everything for his dream. Then, that dream scarred him for life.

One day faded away, followed by a few more he couldn’t keep track of. From time to time, his doctor would force him out of bed to walk around a bit with the help of a cane and a nurse. Another moment when he was lucid, his friend the doctor was standing in the room, peering pensively at his chart.

Hey, Doc.

You’re a very lucky man, Christian Shane. Dr. Clancy O’Neal didn’t look at him but scribbled away at his clipboard. A really lucky man.

I don’t feel like it. Christian’s throat was like he swallowed sandpaper—dry. He shifted on the bed, and a burning sensation shivered through him from his back. I feel like someone doused me in hot water.

That’s what happens when you have half of your back covered in burns. You could have died, Christian. Clancy looked up then to focus his piercing green eyes on Christian. You have to always remember that. It doesn’t matter how scarred or damaged you think you are, life is way more precious than beauty—and if I swung your way, I’d definitely tap that.

Christian laughed. You do swing this way.

"No, no. Not that way." Clancy hooked the clipboard to the foot of the bed.

Christian arched a brow and tilted his head. Em… maybe it’s the drugs, but I’m lost. What way are we talking here?

I meant. Clancy laughed. If I went for the buff, firefighter types.

I see.

Seriously, though. Just remember you could have died, but you didn’t.

For so many years, Christian had said those same words people he pulled from fires. He would tell them to be thankful they were still alive with only a few scars, to be happy. As he lay there, hearing those words tossed back at him, he felt physically ill. Quick! Hit me over the head with a mallet.

Stop being dramatic. You’ll be fine. You just have to remember you’re alive and there are people who didn’t wake up this morning.

Why are you saying all this?

Because I’m your friend and I know you. You spend hours per week making sure your body looks a certain way, and these scars are messing with that. I don’t want you to think anything changes because of them. You’re still as sexy as before… just with a few additions.

Christian said nothing, since he was already thinking about it. He’d inspected as much of the damaged skin as he could. The scars on his cheek weren’t so bad, but the ones on his back and down his side were enough to make him want to shut himself off and never go outside again. Clancy and Christian’s best friend, Masood Hamidi, would never stand for that. They’d hound him until he made an appearance, then lecture him to death about what a good person he was. He hung his head for a moment. When he looked up at Clancy again, Christian took a deep breath. It’s easier said than done.

Just don’t think it, damn it. You go home, take some time off work to make everything heal, see a counselor if you have to. Hell, I have a few I could recommend. Just don’t let vanity keep you from being happy.

I might go to the beach house.

Good. Do that. The salt water should do you good. But you can only go after the burns on your back heal better. I’ll let you know when.

Christian nodded.

Now, Masood should be here to pick you up soon, I packed your bag so you’re ready to go, just change out of the assless gown.

Christian laughed. With pleasure. I hate walking around with a draft.

But the nurses had fun during your stay.

Christian felt his cheeks warmed at that thought but smiled at Clancy. Thank you.

You’re welcome. Now, I have vacation coming up, so I’ll be going to Argentina to help with Doctors Without Borders. I won’t go until I clear you because I’ll be out of reach for at least two months.

That’s not vacation, Clancy. It’s a relocation.

Clancy grinned handsomely. Not a vacation for you. But for me, working alongside sexy, Spanish doctors is the best vacation ever!

Christian laughed. Touché.

Besides, it’s only a relocation if I have no intention of coming back. I’ll be back before you know it.

Be safe. And carry your cell phone.

It won’t do any good. Cell phones there don’t work well and cost too much. Now, give me a hug.

Smiling, Christian hugged him.

I’ll go see where Mas is with your ride.

After Clancy’s departure, Christian gritted his teeth and climbed off the bed to give himself a moment to settle himself on his feet just in case. The cuts on his back weren’t completely healed, but when he walked into the bathroom with his clothes and peered at his face in the mirror. He had a Seal-looking thing going and he shrugged. That was something he just couldn’t change. He didn’t like it, but he’d have to live with it.

Masood picked him up that day, and they talked about everything under the sun except what happened in the fire. They’d been best friends long enough for Masood to know better—he figured.

He then spent a few weeks trapped in his house, waiting for Clancy to clear him to leave. Clancy wouldn’t until the burns on his back no longer pained him and he was sure none of them were infected. Every week, he’d go into the hospital to see Clancy, and each time the doctor would poke at the wounds with a grim look on his face before scribbling on a clipboard and simply saying, Nope.

The guys from the station kept popping in and out, bringing him everything from fake beer to groceries. After a while he wanted to scream, but he pretended he enjoyed their visits. Deep down he did—it brought him great joy and comfort knowing they had his back when he needed them. He loved them terribly. But all of a sudden, he just felt useless and so damn trapped.

Lucas, one of his teammates, came alone one evening just as the sun dipped behind the skyscrapers. He was a short, muscular fellow of twenty-eight, with cool, dark skin and lips that could suck better than a vacuum. He had a grim look on his face as he sat on the sofa and leveled his intense brown gaze on Christian. I need to talk to you about something.

Okay.

I told Danielle about us.

Oh no. How did that go?

Not well at first. He stretched his legs out before him. She was pissed I didn’t tell her sooner. I thought for sure she’d divorce me, knowing I’d been with a man.

Did you explain to her it was just something you had to do back then? To make sure—you told her you loved her and only her now, right?

Lucas smiled and nodded. Yeah. It took a couple of days, but she came back and asked me if we were still seeing each other. I told her no, that you and I had been over for years now. I told her you and I have been over since before I met her.

That’s right. We were just one of those things…. Is everything okay between you two now? She won’t be pissed off at me when she sees me again, will she?

Lucas laughed. Nah, man. We’re cool.

Good. Now help me get the chili pot down. I feel like cooking.

Yes, sir.

Another week passed by, another nope from Clancy, and Christian was ready to climb the walls. The days all seemed to blend into one, and soon he stopped answering his phone completely.

It was two more weeks before Clancy cleared him. Then Christian had to figure out what he would do with all the days off he’d gotten but not earned. The day he made the decision to leave the city, he picked up the phone in the bedroom.

Hey, Christian! Chief Whitley cheered. How you feeling today?

Much better. Clancy cleared me to travel.

That’s good news. Where are you thinking of going?

Christian walked the phone to the window, which was the farthest the cord would allow him to go. He stared out pensively.

Chris? You there? Hello?

I’m here. I’m thinking of heading out of town for a little bit. Not sure where yet, but I will be fine. I just wanted to let you guys know so you don’t come by the house.

Oh… okay. You stay safe, all right?

I will.

And if you make it to France, remember, I’m single.

Christian laughed. Sure thing, Chief.

He then called Masood. After about an hour, Masood was in the bedroom with him, watching Christian pack.

So I can’t talk you into staying around here? Masood asked. Maybe catch a few ball games, stay in a hotel, and just chill.

You just want me to stick around here so you can keep your eyes on me.

What’s so wrong with that? Damn, Chris, you’re the only family I got left, and I don’t want….

Don’t worry. I won’t do anything stupid. I just need a little time away—just a break from work and the noise of the city. I promise.

Where are you heading, anyways? Masood asked. And why do you look like the world is ending?

It may not feel like that to you, Mas, but it does to me. This job is all I’ve ever known. It’s the only damn thing I’m remotely any good at, and I’m too old to recertify for anything else.

I get that. But it’s not like they’re firing you. They just want you to take some time, get your mind right again. We both know the boys would welcome you back with open arms. It won’t be the same at the house without you.

They might as well have fired me. I mean, I’m going to have this shit on my record now—that I had to see a shrink after that blaze. I’m marked.

You’re being dramatic.

I don’t know if I want to come back to it. Christian shoved another shirt in the suitcase, then turned to face Masood. I mean. Think about it. I have so much to deal with now. It’s not like I need the money. I just want to make sure if I do come back I can have you guys, I can have your backs without hesitating. Know what I mean?

Masood nodded and flopped on the bed. None of the guys think you’d let them get hurt—you know that. Right?

I don’t know these days. After stuff like this, firefighters tend to lose trust, and I don’t know what I would do if that happened to me.

"I’m sorry about this, you know. I wish I knew what I could have done to make it not have happened. Now you’re stuck with these scars and indecisions, and I just feel