Forbidden Fire by Jan Irving Page A

weeks, strung out, on edge.
    The sex with her should have settled something, shouldn’t it? And later tonight he’d go back, have her again. He had hours to think about what he could do to her.
    He winced as he repeated that last sentence in his head.
    What he could do to her.
    So okay, fine. This was never going to be mutual. This was not them in bed together, in a relationship.
    And he was a big loser, because that was exactly what he’d always ached for. Too bad he realised it now when he’d fucked up any chance of having it.

    * * * *

    As Sian placed a pan on the stove, it made a loud clattering sound that almost made her jump.
    “Damn it, woman,” she scolded herself.
    She had the stereo on, Bonnie Raitt singing ‘ I can’t make you love me’ .
    And wasn’t that the truth.
    As she lit another burner on the gas stove, she wondered just who she was making this fancy dinner for. Normally it would be Luke. Normally he’d be sitting on the marble island across from her, reading a newspaper. If he did the crossword, he’d get her to help him with it. He had a knack for mechanical things, for practical things around the house. He was also an avid reader.
    She’d shared books with him in this kitchen.
    Now the space felt as empty as a deserted cathedral. She’d made lists of supplies she needed for Coffee Dreams, more white chocolate cherry scones, more almond croissants and she needed to get Dharma to remember to put all the grounds in that fancy strainer she’d ordered from France. If the staff remembered to fill it the night before, it produced thick coffee syrup, perfect for making espresso brownies.
    Luke purely loved those brownies, said they gave him a double caffeine shot of coffee and chocolate.
    Luke.
    What this kitchen was missing was Luke.
    How long was he going to stay at his friend Taz’s?
    Would Luke share what had happened between them with Taz?
    Sian flushed, hating that she was still as insecure as she’d been in high school. Her insecurity had led to the worst mistake of her young life, getting in a car with Drake Morris, who was itching to race. They’d gone too fast and then she’d been screaming, her hand burning and Drake… Drake was dead.
    It was Luke who had come to the hospital since his mother and her father were in the Bahamas. Luke who had been there when they’d unwrapped the bandages on the stubs of her amputated fingers.
    God, she’d felt like the Phantom of the Opera with her scars but he’d deliberately taken that ruined hand and put the back of it against his forehead.
    “Thank fuck you’re all right,” he’d whispered. “Jesus, Sian. Jesus!”
    It had been the only thing he’d ever said about the whole fiasco. No ‘you should have known better’, like Mr Henry.
    Yeah, she’d known better. After she’d gone through it.
    As she watched vegetables simmering, she slumped on the kitchen stool. There had to be a way to get back what she and Luke had lost. Sex was the snake in their garden, screwing everything up, but Luke had made it clear he did not want to go back.
    So where did it leave them?
    When the kitchen door swung open, Sian jumped.
    Luke stood in shadows, so she couldn’t read him. His posture gave her the impression he was tired. He dropped the gym bag on the hardwood floor.
    “Aren’t you supposed to say ‘hi honey, I’m home’?” she asked, trying to make a joke.
    His face didn’t change expression so she guessed she’d failed.
    “I didn’t tell you I’d be home for dinner.”
    She shrugged. “I’m used to making enough for both of us.”
    “I hate this distance between us, but it won’t stop me, Sian.”
    Hoo boy. Luke was never one to dance around something. “I know it won’t.” Not her Luke.
    “When you were in the car accident, you could have died. The firefighters got you out, saved your life.”
    She nodded.
    “And I knew I wanted to be one of them, because they saved my family.”
    Her. She was Luke’s family.
    Tears came.