Connelly's Flame (22 page)

“What about a family?” he questioned as he drained the sink and began to wipe off the counters and

table.

“I have one. Dale and Shawn. Tank. Shadyville is my family.” Dezarae reached for dessert plates

and set them down on the clean table.

Ross set the silverware down and took out the lemon meringue pie from the fridge. “What about a

family of your own? Charmane, dessert is ready,” he called to his child. “Turn off the television and come

eat.”

“What, like a husband and kids?” Dezarae asked as she held the plates for him to put the pie on.

“That is the usual definition of a family. Yeah, like that.” Ross waited while she gave a plate to

Charmane.

“I don’t know. I suppose eventually, somewhere down the road. But I am happy with my life the way

it is.” She shrugged and took a piece for herself, sitting down at the table.

“Don’t you want kids, Dez?” Charmane asked as she ate a bite of pie.

“Someday. I don’t think I am ready now,” she answered the child.

“Oh,” Charmane said.

Dessert was eaten as Charmane talked about things she wanted to do with her father tomorrow. As

they finished, Dezarae took the plates and placed them in the sink, saying, “I will wash them later. I have to

go close up the shop and look over my Elan.” With a smile for Charmane, she added, “You cook a mean

meal, Charmane. Thanks.” With a wave, she headed out of the kitchen and into the rapidly-darkening night.

It was eleven-thirty at night. Charmane was in bed and Ross walked through the dimly-lit living

room to the door that took him to the garage. Standing in the doorway, he leaned on the frame and observed

Dezarae as she worked on her car. Oldies music played throughout the garage.

83

CONNELLY’S FLAME

Aliyah Burke

She wore another pair of nondescript coveralls but seeing them on her, Ross seemed to think of sex.

Okay, so anything she wore took his mind down that road. At the present moment she was at a workbench,

working on the engine she had hoisted out of the car.

Dezarae labored over each piece carefully, cleaning it and making it shine. The actions must be

automatic for her, he mused, since she was singing along with the music as she toiled. “Are you just going to

stand there and stare or come closer and hold a conversation?” Her question surprised him.

“Didn’t want to disturb you. Charmane’s asleep. Do you know what time it is?” he asked as he

moved to grab a stool and sit on the other side of the bench so he could watch.

“I reckon it’s late,” she said, never taking her eyes off her meticulous cleaning. “And you disturb me

less sitting here instead of lurking over me like a damn vulture.”

“This is a mess. Tell me about the car.” He reached across the table and touched her cheek so she

would look at him.

Her eyes briefly moved to his face and she smiled before ducking her head to watch her hands.

“Well, what do you want to know?”

“More than the year,” Ross answered.

“Do you remember what year it is?” she quipped, setting down the piece she had been cleaning.

“Yes, Ma’am. It is a 1962 Lotus Elan,” he said snappily.

Rolling her eyes, she got off the stool. “It is the Elan 1500, actually.” She moved over to the car. “Its

engine is a 1558-cc engine. Four-speed manual, goes over one hundred miles per hour.” Dezarae grinned,

“Or it will. Considering the crap it was coughing out today, I would be happy with twenty miles per hour.”

Walking to the front of the car, she pointed at the headlights, “These are pop-up headlights, a rarity

in the 1960’s. The body is fiberglass for the lighter weight. The car will have a beautiful wooden dash when

it’s done.”

“It’s only a two-seater?” Ross asked, standing beside her to look at the hunk of junk in front of them,

trying to envision it as she did.

“They did introduce a +2 model in 1967 but I couldn’t get my hands on one of them yet. Maybe

some day.” She smiled at the man beside her. “They also have a convertible version. In 1971, they

introduced the Elan Sprint, which is normally found with a five-speed transmission. That one can shoot from

zero to sixty in seven seconds.”

Dezarae blushed and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I get carried away sometimes. I forget that not

everyone loves the history of these cars like I do.”

“Don’t apologize. It is very obvious you love what you do. But do you think we can go to bed now?”

Ross asked, stepping closer to her. “I want my dessert.”

Body trembling, she nodded and moved away from him to turn off the stereo. “I’m kinda wanting

mine as well,” she said as he stopped her by the door and kissed her.

“I don’t have any condoms,” he muttered against her lips. “I didn’t want to buy them with Charmane

right there.”

Pulling away, she met his gaze and wondered, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because, as much as I want to make love to you, it is harder and harder for me to pull out of you

and not come inside your warm body.” His eyes held hers. “So if you don’t have any, all I can do is hold

you.”

“What kind of an idiot was Joy to let a man like you go?” Dezarae reached up and touched his face

gently. “You are such a kind man.”

Grabbing her hand, he held it against his cheek. “I am kind to you because I care about you.”

Because I love you. But I can also be a very violent man.

“Let’s go to bed. We’ll think of something.” Hand in hand they walked inside and straight to her

bedroom, closing the door behind them.

Neither of them saw the brown eyes that watched the affectionate couple head off to the same room

before the door closed completely and the child went to sleep with a smile on her face.

84

CONNELLY’S FLAME

Aliyah Burke

“I love you, Dezarae,” Ross said as they lay in her bed. She was sleeping on his chest, her breaths

coming nice and even.

Ross stroked her hair as he lay awake. He had been awake for over an hour. His mind was running

too fast for him to sleep anymore. What he was going to do about Charmane’s situation and what to do about

Dezarae plagued him to no end.

What did he have to offer a woman like Dezarae? He knew she wouldn’t want to move; her business

set-up was damn near perfect. But, as he lay there beside her, he knew without a doubt he would get married

again. And to Dezarae Phoenix Kerry.

He felt such completion in her presence. Such focus. Such love. “I love you so much, Firebird,” Ross

whispered to the room.

His face grew grave as he wondered how to approach Dezarae about watching his daughter. Would

she think that was his motivation for sleeping with her? She wasn’t very trusting.
Should I tell her I love her

before I ask?
Ross shook his head, “She wouldn’t believe me.”

Dezarae stirred against him and covered his rebel flag with her hand before she sighed and was still

once again. “I can’t ever let you go, Dez,” Ross said kissing the top of her head.

With a glance at her clock, he carefully untangled their bodies and got out of bed. Pulling on his

pants, he picked up the rest of his clothes and walked to her sleeping body. Ross leaned down and brushed

his lips over hers. “Sleep well, Firebird. Sleep well.” Silent like the warrior he was, Ross slipped away.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
That damn alarm.
Fumbling around, Dezarae finally hit the button that shut

off that annoying noise. Flopping over on her back, she sighed as she looked out her skylight. “There are

some days that six just comes too damn early.” With a small frustrated sound, she climbed out of bed and

headed for the shower.

“Jesus,” she complained as the showerhead pounded down around her. “I am so sore.” Regardless of

the stiffness in her body, she smiled as she recalled the passionate night she had shared with Ross.

That man released each and every one of her inhibitions. “I think I need to start doing yoga,” she said

with a smile as she washed her hair. Dezarae didn’t even remember his leaving last night.

Done in the shower, she got dressed for the day, opting today to wear sweats and a baggy tee shirt.

Pulling her thick hair back into a ponytail, she walked up the hallway to her kitchen. Both rooms that her

guests occupied had their doors closed and so she grabbed a quick glass of juice and headed out in the early

morning to her shop.

Disengaging the alarm, she entered the shop and opened up the bay door in front of the Citroën.

“Morning, Frenchie,” she greeted the car. Slipping on her coveralls, Dezarae turned on the music and lights

and got to work.

“Damn it!” she swore as the blood poured from her finger. Dezarae got out from under the hood and

walked to the sink and cleaned up her hand. The gash was long but not that deep so she bandaged it up and

went back to work, ignoring the blood-soaked rag she left lying there.

The final adjustments to the pushrods on the engine done, she stood up and stretched. Rubbing her

finger, Dezarae grabbed the keys and sat in the vehicle. “Here we go. Come on, Frenchie, don’t let me

down.” With a flick of her wrist, the engine turned over.

Her ears picked up the slight hesitation that it still had. Leaving it running, she got out and went back

under the hood to make the final adjustments. Within fifteen minutes she had the engine purring like it was

just off the assembly line.

Shutting it off, Dezarae picked up the replacement hose for the hydraulics. She had found a

substantial hole in the current one. This car was not as hard as she had assumed it was going to be.

Lying on her back under the car, she labored away until a loud roar scared the beejeezus out of her.

“DEZARAE!!!” a masculine voice yelled.

85

CONNELLY’S FLAME

Aliyah Burke

Rolling out from under the car, she searched frantically for the person who made such a racket.

“What?” she said urgently as her body jerked upright. “What’s going on?”

Ross was standing by the sink holding something in his hand. “Are you okay?” he demanded as he

practically ran over to her.

Standing, Dezarae gave him a quizzical look. “Why wouldn’t I be okay? What the hell is the matter

with you yelling like that?”

“I found this,” he waved the bloody rag in front of her. “What happened?”

“Look, this is a shop. I work on cars, there are times when I get cut and bleed. I cut my finger.” She

held up her left hand and showed him the neatly-bandaged pointer finger. “I cut it, I washed it, and I

bandaged it.” Snatching the rag from him, she tossed it into a trash barrel.

“I’m sorry,” his reply came as he pulled her in close. “I came in looking for you and you didn’t

answer me and then I saw the blood. I panicked.”

With a sigh, she shook her head. “I am not going to break. I am actually pretty strong for a woman.

You can’t come into the shop yelling like that.”

“I’ve been properly chastised. I’m sorry. Forgive me?”

With that drawl, I will forgive you anything.
“Of course. What did you need me for?” Dezarae asked,

stepping away from him and moving back to the car.

“I came to see if you were going to get some lunch or not?” Ross watched as she slipped back under

the car.

“Well,” her muffled voice came. “I’m not really that hungry so I will pass. Besides, I am almost

done with the hydraulics and I want to get that done before I stop. Feel free to help yourself to anything in

the house.”

“You need to eat something,” he insisted, taking a deep breath before he lay down beside her and

wriggled under the car.

Dezarae laughed. “What are you doing under here?” She turned her head to look at his gray eyes.

“I want to spend some time with you. And since this seems to be what holds your attention, I figured

this is where I have to be.” Wrinkling up his nose at her, he added, “Not very romantic, if you ask me.”

Rolling her eyes, Dezarae put her attention back on the job before her. “Why are you trying to score

points with me? I would think you would want to be with your daughter.”

“She is finishing up the last of the work her tutor sent her and I was in her way,” Ross said.

“So you came out here. Should I be upset that I was your second choice?” she teased.

“Never second, Firebird. Never second,” he vowed.

“Don’t worry. I am not upset.” Her hands moved consistently for a while and she grunted before

saying, “There. That should do it.” Dezarae wheeled herself out from under the car and stood up to wipe her

hands on a rag.

Ross lay on his back looking up at the hand reaching down to assist him. “You know I think we

could use you on the Megalodon Team,” he said as she helped him get to his feet.

“The what?” Dezarae asked as she released his hand and grabbed her water that was on the

workbench.

“The Megalodon Team. It’s the nickname of our SEAL Team,” Ross explained taking the water

bottle from her and enjoying some of the cool liquid.

Grabbing a low-wheeled stool, Dezarae settled in front of the left side headlights and began to

reconnect the wiring. “What does it mean? Megalodon?” she asked as she worked. “Here, come over here

and hold this in place for me. You can sit on this stool,” Dezarae said.

Ross sat as she vacated her seat. Then she climbed into the open hood area and sat straddling the car

over the left wheel. Her head bent, she continued to adjust the lights. “Well, what does it mean?” Dezarae