In Flames

By Jessica Jayne

Gracelyn Riley married a firefighter and knew that came with risks. But she never imagined herself widowed in her early thirties with two children to care for on her own. Even though her marriage to Chad Riley had its difficulties, dealing with the last year without him has not been easy. Her brother-in-law, Matt, has been the rock that has kept her from collapsing or imploding.

As a Mason Ridge fireman, Matt Riley had been at the scene when his brother, Chad, was killed. For the last year, Matt has suffered from survivor’s guilt and drank himself into oblivion. His sister-in-law, Gracelyn, supported him, lending him a shoulder to cry on. Her friendship has pulled him through time and time again until he finally sobered.

With the year anniversary of Chad’s death upon them, Gracelyn and Matt turn to each for support and comfort. What they didn’t expect was to realize that their feelings for each other go beyond the solid friendship they share. Can they overcome the guilt and the scrutiny of their family and friends to find love together?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jessica Jayne
• Release date: Jul 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463078600

Jessica Jayne

Jessica is a born and raised small town Ohio girl, who moved to the Sunshine State after graduating from college. She graduated from college with a bachelor's degree in English. What college major could possibly be better than one that makes you read novels and write about them! Now she is thrilled to be able to share all the stories floating around in her head!Jessica loves to travel and travel often! She’s a huge sports fan, especially college football and the Ohio State Buckeyes! She’s a wine-making (and wine-tasting) aficionado. She loves all music. And nothing is better than sunset at the beach!In the journey of life, she also married a wonderful man and had three beautiful (and sometimes crazy) children. Life is always an adventure.

Book preview

In Flames – 2nd edition

ISBN# 9780463078600

Copyright © Jessica Jayne 2018

Originally published in 2013 by Evernight Publishing

Cover Art by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk

Edited by Chelle Olson at Literally Addicted to Detail www.literallyaddictedtodetail.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to person, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. 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 the written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

Warning: Adult reading material. This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers.

The heart wants what it wants—or else it does not care

~Emily Dickinson

Prologue

One year ago…

Matt Riley pulled his red F-150 truck into his brother’s driveway and slammed it into park. The truck jerked to a stop. Another sob wracked his body. Hot tears fell from his eyes, and he swiped at them with the backs of his sooty hands.

He almost never cried. He was good at keeping his emotions under wraps instead of wearing them on his sleeve. He became a little misty-eyed when the Ohio State Buckeyes lost the National Championship to the Florida Gators. Tears had escaped his eyes when his son Brian was born. But other than that, the times were few and very far between. Until now.

He fell back against the seat and stared at the brown and white two-story house before him. The white shutters popped with vibrancy even in the darkness. Oh, God! The house where Chad and his family made their home. Where Matt watched football games, ate Thanksgiving dinners, and celebrated his niece’s and nephew’s birthdays.

The sun had set many hours earlier, leaving the front porch lit by the single light near the door. The threshold his brother would never cross again.

How the hell was he going to do this? He could hardly believe it himself.

Even though the fire chief had wanted to accompany Matt to break the news, he had to be the one to tell his sister-in-law, Gracelyn, that Chad had perished in a horrible fire. Died saving a young child. The facts were heroic and heartbreaking at the same time.

Fuck!

His chest tightened, squeezing the air from his lungs. He’d never forget the flames shooting out of every opening in the two-story apartment building, trying to lick the sky. The fire had consumed the better part of the building before the Mason Ridge Fire Department arrived.

A frantic woman had grabbed Chad by his fire coat, screeching that her child was still inside. Chad, always fearless—and sometimes made stupid by his lack of fear—decided to rush into the building to search for the child and any other survivors, despite the chief’s orders to stand down. They hadn’t even assessed the situation yet.

Be right back, Chad had shouted over his shoulder as he bolted toward the front door of the building. That was the last time Matt had seen his brother alive.

What the hell were you thinking, big brother? Matt slammed his palm down on the steering wheel and winced. He’d hit the thing harder than intended. He massaged his palm with his fingers. There’d likely be a bruise tomorrow, but he’d gladly endure the pain if he could turn back the clock and retract the events of tonight.

He flipped off the truck lights, opened the door, and dropped to the ground. His entire body ached with exhaustion. He hadn’t even changed out of his fire gear—he stood in his turnout pants and boots, a sweaty and smoke-infused Mason Ridge Fire Department t-shirt clinging to his torso under his suspenders. The cool autumn air caused a chill to run over him. Or maybe it was the duty ahead of him that sent goosebumps racing over his skin.

Once the paramedics had pronounced Chad gone, the only thing Matt could think of was getting to Gracelyn, his niece and nephew, and then his parents and sister.

The family would be devastated.

He clomped up the driveway, dread weighing down every step. It took everything he had to raise his arm and knock. His fist thudded against the wooden door.

Silence.

God, he needed a drink. To burn his throat with bourbon until this day was erased.

He pushed his fingers through his sweaty hair, then swiped his hand over his face, trying to gain his composure. He couldn’t support Gracelyn if he were a mess. She’d need every ounce of his strength in the coming days.

He and Chad had been close. Sure, they’d beaten each other up now and again and had their arguments, but their connection ran deep. Matt had always looked up to his brother. Chad had breezed through fire school, married an amazing woman, and started a beautiful family. Not that he was perfect—he had his share of screw-ups—like the affair that had almost ruined his family. Chad’s trials never seemed to reach the same level of loathing that Matt’s did, though—at least not to their mother. But that hadn’t been Chad’s doing. Mom had always favored Chad. Not his brother’s fault.

Losing her golden boy… This would kill her.

Losing his big brother would probably kill Matt, too. He couldn’t imagine life without Chad. Would his mother hold Matt responsible? Would he shoulder the blame for not following his brother? Survivor’s guilt appeared to be a real thing.

When they realized the magnitude of the danger, it had taken three fellow firefighters to restrain Matt—to keep him from going in after Chad. The groan of the roof trusses splintering under the heat of the fire and the horror of the roof collapsing while Chad was still inside would haunt Matt’s dreams for the rest of his life.

He shook his head. It might take more than bourbon to get him through the rest of this night.

The lock clicked, and Matt startled. The door creaked open a few inches. Sleepy, blue eyes peered through the gap.

Matty? Gracelyn’s voice was but a whisper.

No one else called him Matty. In fact, he hated the nickname, except when it came from Gracelyn. She’d called him that since the day Chad had introduced them. Chad had corrected her when she said the nickname, but something about the way she said it didn’t make Matt feel like a kindergartener, and he told Chad that he didn’t mind. Matt would never forget the look on his brother’s face when he’d said that Gracelyn could call him Matty. Narrowed eyes with a warning glint—she belonged to Chad. Despite her beauty, inside and out, Matt would never even consider poaching his brother’s wife. He’d never do that to his brother. Plus, when Matt had met her, he’d had his own wife anyway. Matt wasn’t the cheating kind, even if Cheryl had never trusted him.

Confusion creased the corners of Gracelyn’s eyes. Her long, chestnut hair lay tousled, confirming that she’d been sleeping when he knocked. Her gaze raked over him, and her eyes widened. The door wedged open a little more, and her hand flew to her mouth.

No. Her voice pitched high.

She wobbled like a drunkard and clutched the doorframe.

Matt pushed the door wide, sprang forward, and caught her around the waist before her legs gave out. She crumpled in his arms.

Gracey. He kicked the door closed behind him and sank to the floor of her foyer with his sister-in-law in his arms.

Don’t say it, Matty. Don’t you dare say it. She sobbed into his chest. His shirt dampened under her tears.

I wish I didn’t have to. He smoothed a hand over her tresses. Her body shook with her cries. His chest squeezed with his own grief and at witnessing hers. This would profoundly change her life and his niece’s and nephew’s. He’s gone. The words all but choked him.

No! Her fists pounded on his chest. He allowed her to hit him. The blows to his ribs allowed him to feel something other than the breaking of his heart. The word no spilled from her lips like a CD that had been put on repeat.

Finally, she grew tired and curled into him, her fingers gripping his t-shirt in desperation. He held her tightly. Tighter than he probably should, but he needed the connection to Chad just as much as she did. Tears welled in his eyes again, then bubbled over, dropping into her hair as they fell. He heaved with a sob, and she gripped him harder.

Fuck! These next hours, these next days were going to be hell.

Matt didn’t know how long they sat on the floor huddled together, sharing their grief. It could have been five minutes or five hours. The sobbing eventually stopped for them both. They’d cried themselves dry. Her chest occasionally expanded with very slow, very deep breaths that she released with a whimper.

After some time, she lifted her head. I need to call my parents. They’ll want to come up from Florida. I need to tell the kids… Oh, God! She moaned in agony, and her hand covered her mouth. The sound, the anguish in her eyes ripped Matt’s heart to shreds. What about your parents? Her voice cracked.

Chief Watson was going to my parents’ house.

Matt had left his cell phone in the console of his truck, but there would be several missed calls from his parents and his sister, Sarah, who would be worried about him. Their father had been a firefighter, too. Retired now. The family was conscious of the dangers of the job, but awareness didn’t change the shock or the devastation.

Matt brushed Gracey’s hair out of her face and tucked the stray pieces behind her ear. I needed to come here. I had to be the one to tell you. I can help you tell the kids. You shouldn’t have to do it yourself.

What am I supposed to do? He just came home. The pain in her voice broke him. She and Chad had been separated for several months. Gracelyn had discovered the affair his brother had had with a woman who worked at the gym he frequented. After months of counseling and hard work, Gracelyn had invited Chad home. Some of his boxes still cluttered the living room, unpacked. And now they would never be emptied.

We’ll get through this. I promise. He pulled her into him again and held her, rocking her back and forth, trying to soothe them both. We’ll get through this. Somehow.

Chapter One

Matt pulled his truck into the familiar driveway. Déjà vu! A year ago to the day, he’d delivered horrible news. Today, he was here to offer Gracelyn support.

She’d held up well over the last year—as well as anyone who’d been handed her circumstances could. She focused her energy on her children. Jenna and Joshua were her life.

Matt’s parents were going to pick up the kids from school and drive them to their soccer practices so Gracelyn could deal with the anniversary in her own way.

Being there for Gracelyn was important. She’d been a good friend to Matt, especially this year. After Chad’s death, Matt drank himself into oblivion at every opportunity. He’d shown up hungover at the station more than once. Chief Watson had sent him home without reprimand until he had no choice but to write him up and put him on a paid leave of absence. Gracelyn had assisted in getting him the help he needed to live again and get back in the good graces of the fire department.

Insomnia had plagued him. Falling asleep was like pressing repeat on a nightmare—the sound of the roof collapsing, the fear he felt for his brother, and the thought that it should have been him. He was the failure, the screw-up in the Riley family, not Chad. Matt had dropped out of college. He had given up on his marriage. Counseling wouldn’t have saved his and Cheryl’s relationship, but his mother believed he’d simply abandoned the union. And his son had been so distraught over the divorce, he barely said ten words to Matt on the days he had him.

Gracelyn listened. Consoled. Held him when he cried. She’d never once judged him when he showed up at her house drunker than a sailor on leave. And she did all of it even though she suffered herself. Matt owed her. Owed her for forcing him into counseling so he could deal with his brother’s death and the myriad of emotions the loss stirred within him.

He sat in his truck for several minutes. Gracelyn’s evergreen Jeep Grand Cherokee was parked next to him. He inhaled a deep breath and released it with a sigh. Remnants of colorful flowers stood around the large oak tree in the front yard. A few late-season butterflies flitted from droopy flower to droopy flower. He’d helped Gracelyn and the kids plant the butterfly garden that summer and lay the memorial stone.

He huffed out another breath. He dreaded this day. Now six months sober, the urge for a drink was greater than it had been in a long time.

Matt climbed out of his truck, waving to Mr. Simmons across the yard. The grey-haired gentleman waved back from his riding lawnmower.

Matt strode to the front door and knocked. No answer. No noise. He pulled his keychain out of his jeans’ pocket and found Gracelyn’s key. He opened the door.

Gracelyn had given him a key to the house a while ago because he was often there helping with things. Fixing the disposal. Aiding with the yard work. Picking up or dropping off Jenna and Josh from school or an activity.

Gracelyn! He walked into the foyer, closing the door behind him. Hey, Gracey. It’s Matt.

He walked from room to room on the lower level. Everything was neat and tidy, except for the cereal bowls sitting next to the white porcelain farmhouse sink, and an empty half-gallon of milk left on the grey-and-white-speckled granite countertop.

Maybe she wasn’t home. Maybe a friend had picked her up and took her out for an early dinner. Since the kids were with his parents, she’d be able to do whatever she needed to make it through the day.

He climbed the stairs and strolled down the beige-carpeted hallway lined with family photos nailed to the blueish-grey walls. The white door at the end led to the bedroom Gracelyn had once shared with Chad.

He rapped lightly on the door. Gracey? He waited a few seconds before turning the door handle and pushing the door open.

His heart constricted at the sight of her curled up on the floor in one of Chad’s old Mason Ridge fireman t-shirts. R I L E Y crossed the back of the navy shirt in white letters. Her hands were tucked under a cheek. Lips parted. With each breath, her chest rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm that only sleep could bring. Sleep, however, didn’t hide the redness and puffiness around her eyes.

He sank to the floor next to her and leaned against the wall, resting his head back. He released his breath gently through his nose. Even though Chad had been gone a year, guilt still plagued Matt. It could have so easily been him rushing into that fire. Then, Gracey wouldn’t be alone. But every time those thoughts crept into his mind, he thought of his son, who had finally come around to talking to him again after Chad passed, and another form of guilt suffocated him. Would he actually trade places with his brother and leave his son without a father? He didn’t think so, at least not now that he was sober.

He smoothed Gracelyn’s long, chestnut tendrils with his fingers, bringing back that horrific night a year ago where he’d done the same thing as she begged him to tell her it wasn’t true. Only then, the circumstances had been much harder.

He and Gracelyn had always been close,