Brand New Flame

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LesLumens
LesLumens
1,282 Followers

When the timer sounded from the kitchen, it snapped Tracy out of the almost trance-like state that she'd slipped into. She was suddenly aware of the wide, flirtatious smile on her face, and the way she was sitting with her arm on the back of the couch, leaning toward him.

Tracy sat back up, once again moving more quickly than she'd intended. She winced inwardly and said, "Well, it's ready. I'll go take it out of the oven and give it the finishing touches."

"I need to run to the bathroom. I'll be there in a minute."

"Down the hall — first door on the right."

Tracy maintained her composure until she was safely out of sight in the kitchen. At that point, she covered her eyes with her hand and shook her head, her face burning.

What is wrong with me? He's barely older than my son, and I'm flirting with him. It's probably all he can do to fake a smile because he's stuck here.

After a couple of deep breaths, Tracy straightened her slumped shoulders and removed the roasting pan from the oven. With her shame firmly in the forefront of her mind, she kept her attraction from coming out in her words and mannerisms when he joined her again — all the while embarrassed to admit that it was attraction.

The pair had transferred everything to the table and were about to sit down when Steve asked, "Uhm — did I do something to upset you?"

Tracy managed to hide her wince. She'd overdone it in dropping away from near full-blown flirting to nothing. "No, not at all. I just have something on my mind. I'm sorry."

"No problem," Steve said as a wide smile spread across his face. "Well, let's eat then."

The strain of moderating her enthusiasm wore on Tracy throughout the meal. Steve not only excited her physically, but she genuinely enjoyed talking with him. More shared interests popped up as Steve steered the conversation that way, sprinkled with frequent compliments on her cooking. Tracy felt torn in half as she struggled not to show just how much of an effect he had on her.

The phone rang just after Tracy put aside her fork. She answered it, and assured her ex-husband that she was okay. To head off a second phone call, she contacted her son to do the same. When she put down the phone, she realized that Steve had cleared the table at some point between the two calls. She could hear water running in the kitchen, so she walked in to find him rinsing the dishes to put them in the dishwasher.

"You didn't have to, but thank you."

Steve looked back over his shoulder and said, "You're welcome." He put the plates into the dishwasher and said, "It sounds like you get along pretty well with your ex."

"It took a couple of years, but we're friendly now — so long as we don't spend much time together." Tracy joined Steve at the sink and pulled out the dishwashing detergent. "He did the right thing even when he could barely afford it, and he was always there for Chris."

"Certainly could have been worse. Doubt that Denise will ever speak to me again."

Tracy had genuine sympathy in her voice when she said, "Sorry."

Steve leaned up against the dishwasher after turning it on. "Sometimes it just takes one thing. She wanted kids — I don't. It just came up in casual conversation one night, and things nosedived in a week." He shrugged. "I guess I should bring it up before I get too involved in a relationship next time."

"You never know what will make things fall apart." Tracy sighed and rested her bottom against the edge of the counter. "My ex and I were probably too young, to begin with. We eloped on my eighteenth birthday. Two weeks and a broken condom later, I was pregnant."

"He wasn't ready?"

Tracy half-smiled and responded, "Neither of us were, but the shock didn't last long. Once it sank in that we were going to have a baby, everything was wonderful — right up until the last couple of months. I had a difficult pregnancy, and..."

Tracy trailed off as she realized that she was spilling out her life story to someone she barely knew. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm going on and on — probably boring you to death."

"It's okay. I started it, after all." He didn't look the slightest bit bored.

Tracy blew out a long breath and pushed away from the counter. "I think I ate too much. I need to go sit down for a while." She then yawned, and added, "Between that, the brandy, and too little sleep, I don't think I'm going to be up long, either."

"Mind if I check the weather? It looks like things have tapered off. Maybe they're getting the roads cleared."

Desperate to get away from the crazy old lady, Tracy thought. "Go right ahead," she responded, and then walked ahead of him back to the front room.

Tracy flipped on the television, and caught the anchorman in mid-sentence.

"... with more of our continuing coverage of this dangerous storm, already dubbed the Valentine's Day blizzard, even though it's a day early."

The camera switched to the weatherman. "Don't breathe a sigh of relief just yet." He then pointed at the radar. "This front is only minutes away from the downtown area. While it shouldn't last more than two hours, we are going to see an additional two to four inches of snow from this band. High winds will continue to create white-out, blizzard conditions."

As if summoned by the weatherman's words, a powerful gust of wind slammed into the house, announcing that the storm had arrived.

"Well, so much for that thought," Steve said with a chuckle.

Tracy put down the remote and said, "I'll go get you some blankets."

Not long after, everything caught up with Tracy. She could feel her eyelids drooping, and the pangs of spending time with someone so perfect, whom she couldn't possibly pursue, were simply too much to handle.

Tracy stood, and stretched. "I think it's time for me to go to bed."

"Will the TV bother you?"

Tracy shook her head and answered, "No — as long as it isn't too loud."

"Well, thanks for dinner and a place to crash for the night. Goodnight."

"You're welcome, and goodnight," Tracy responded, and then smiled before walking to the bedroom. She couldn't help but peek back at him with a sigh before she closed the door.

She pulled open a drawer and a sheer, barely-there negligee called out to her. Some part of her hastily suggested putting it on and walking back into the front room because she forgot something.

Tracy shook her head and removed a thick, calf-length cotton gown instead. Once she changed for the night, she also pulled a robe that reached to her ankles from the closet, and hung it on the hook on the outside of the door, just in case she needed to go to the bathroom.

Tracy drifted off to sleep, staring at the door, and listening to the faint sounds of the television in the front room.

♥/\^/\^/\^/\♥

Tracy awakened, and instantly knew that something was wrong. The house was deathly quiet, and horribly cold. Her room was pitch black, though a security light at the neighbor's house should be shining a dim illumination through the curtains, as it always did.

The fright of awakening in complete darkness during the fire in her apartment building had taught Tracy a valuable lesson. She felt for the handle of the small chest of drawers next to her bed, and retrieved the flashlight there. As soon as she turned it on, she could see her breath.

Tracy held her blanket against her with the hand holding the flashlight, and quickly darted to her robe, hanging on the closet door. Once she put on the robe, she tucked the blanket back around her, and reached for the phone with a shivering hand. It dawned upon her just before she touched the phone that it was pointless. Both of her phones were cordless, and wouldn't work without power.

A frustrated groan passed her lips when she considered her cell, which was plugged into a socket next to the couch. Resigned to the journey, Tracy found her freezing cold slippers and wrapped her blanket around her as well.

Steve stirred as the edge of the flashlight beam found him. He had curled up and pulled his blanket tight about him as he slept. While Tracy removed her cell from the charger and turned it on, he awakened.

"D-damn," Steve muttered. "Power out?"

Tracy nodded, and felt a little silly for it because there was no way he could possibly see her. "Yes. I'm getting my cell to call the power company."

"Somebody must have hit a power pole," Steve speculated, and then scooted over a little to give Tracy a place to sit.

After sitting on hold for over five minutes, Tracy gave up. Her shivers were now as much from worry as from the cold. "What if it stays off f-for hours? W-what if we c-can't get out, and n-nobody c-can get in?"

Steve must have understood the panic in her tooth-chattering questions. "We'll be fine. There's gas in my truck, and in your car. Even if we can't use them to drive somewhere warm, we can run the heaters. I have a battery powered defroster in my truck, too." He paused, and then sat up as he added, "Your oven is gas. We could always turn it on and huddle around it, if it comes to that. Not terribly safe, but it will keep us from freezing."

"I hadn't t-thought about t-that."

"Sit here with me. We should keep each other awake and share warmth. You're freezing, and I haven't been up to let the heat out."

Too cold to think about what she was doing, Tracy nodded and climbed beneath the covers, spreading out her own blanket to share it as well. Steve scooted a little closer to her, and then grasped the edge of the blanket to pull it over both of their heads as they sat against the back of the couch.

"Our breath will warm it up more," Steve explained in the darkness. "It's not as if there's anything to see out there anyway."

Tracy's teeth ceased to chatter as she soaked up his warmth, and the feeling of touching him. Even with three layers of cloth between their skin, the sensation of his body next to hers warmed her more than anything.

"Hey, stay awake."

Tracy started, and realized that she had indeed dozed off. The understanding that her head was resting on Steve's shoulder came a second or two later. "Sorry. I'm just so tired."

"I know. I am too. The worst thing we can do right now is fall asleep."

Tracy had no trouble waking up when he patted her knee. His hand only touched her for less than a second, but that was more than long enough. She was glad for the darkness, because it hid the color rising in her cheeks.

"You okay? You're shaking again."

Tracy let out a little whimper when he slipped an arm behind her and leaned closer. She melted in the embrace, all thoughts of his age and her inhibitions evaporating in an instant.

"Tracy?"

She couldn't manage an answer. Instead, she sucked in a slow, stuttering breath, and leaned into him to rest her cheek on his shoulder.

"We'll be fine. We're warm, and we have a way to get heat if we need it. It's going to be okay." Steve wrapped his other arm around Tracy's waist, and the two leaned against the couch back in their new position.

Equal parts of comfortable bliss and painful fear warred in Tracy's heart as she sat in his warm, strong embrace.

♥/\^/\^/\^/\♥

Tracy awakened once more, to faint sunlight streaming through the window, and the sound of the furnace running this time. She was lying with her head on Steve's chest and her hands curled up by her chin. One of his arms remained around her waist, while the other draped over her — still holding her.

"Morning," Steve said. "The power came back on a little bit after I realized that you'd dozed off again. I didn't want to wake you, and I was almost asleep again, too."

Steve made no effort to unwrap his arms from around her as Tracy looked up at him. She knew that she should get up, but she simply had to have a few more seconds.

Steve's cell rang in his coat pocket, breaking the moment. Tracy could have sworn that she sensed reluctance when he unwrapped his arms from around her and reached for the phone.

Wishful thinking, she thought as she sat up and tried to shake off the feeling of him holding her, though she wanted nothing more than to stay wrapped in that wonderful sensation for as long as possible.

"Hey, Joe. You come through okay?" Steve answered the phone. A few seconds later he said, "I got caught off guard. I'm right near my uncle's house." He laughed. "Yeah, I got blasted just as I was coming down the street to bring her the present. Tell my mom that I can hear her, and she's right — again."

Steve listened for a minute or so, and then answered a question, "Sure, if you can get a plow through to here, I'll be glad to help. Cool. I'll keep my eyes open for it, then. See you in a bit."

Steve hung up the phone and informed Tracy, "They're going to send a plow down the street so that I can get out. The police, fire department, and the city are organizing to get people who still don't have heat to a warming center."

He pushed the covers aside and stood. "If you're up to it, I'm sure they could use a nurse at the warming center. There are bound to be people who need to go to a hospital that might listen to you, where they wouldn't listen to one of us."

"Of course," Tracy answered with a wan smile, half wishing that she had taken advantage of the moment before the phone rang. "I'll go get changed."

"I'll go out and start the truck."

Tracy walked back out to find Steve on his cell.

"Don't worry, Mom. If it will make you feel any better, I'll have a nurse sitting next to me if something would happen." He paused for a moment, and then sucked in a surprised breath. He had more than a slight touch of embarrassed reproach in his voice when he said, "Mom." He then chuckled nervously, and continued, "Look, I'll be fine, and I'll keep in touch. Love you, Mom."

Steve hung up the phone and said, "I rocked the truck a couple of times when I started it. As long as they plow the street, I can get it out of the driveway. I tried to kick a bit of a path out there, and to not track too much back in the house."

Tracy hung her coat over the back of the couch and sat down. "How long do you think it will be?"

"Probably not long. This is a fairly direct route between the hospital and the school. Since they're coming this way anyhow, they'll probably plow the first path right through here." He peeked out the window and looked down the street.

Tracy quickly looked away from him, because she knew that she was going down a dangerous path. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't escape how handsome and charming he was. Every second was a battle between her growing emotions and her common sense.

"Here it comes," Steve announced with a smile as he turned away from the window.

Tracy watched the plow go by, amazed by the true depth of the snow, which she could only really see with a path cut through it.

"Ah, I was worried about that," Steve remarked.

Tracy followed his gaze and saw a tractor coming down the street. The man driving it waved toward the window, and Steve waved back.

"He'll clear the end of the drive. It might have been a bit of a problem getting over that mountain the plow dropped there."

Within a few minutes, the end of the drive was open. Steve turned to Tracy and asked, "Ready?"

Tracy nodded, and grabbed her coat. She followed him out to his truck, doing her best to stay within the path that he'd kicked out earlier. He'd even made a path to the passenger door for her.

"Here we go. Buckle up."

Tracy clicked her seatbelt closed, and Steve put the truck in gear. A second later, they were carefully navigating the freshly plowed street toward the school.

♥/\^/\^/\^/\♥

Tracy was rather proud of her community and the elected officials as the day marched on. The city had prepared this plan after the last heavy snowfall a couple of years before, and it worked like a charm. As the city plows opened pathways, everyone from citizens with plows on pickups to construction workers on backhoes pitched in. The city was able to concentrate on breaking new ground, counting on the community to go from there, allowing the plan to proceed at a far quicker pace than originally conceived.

Steve rarely spent more than a few minutes at the school, usually just to help someone inside when he dropped them off. He always made sure to have a few words with Tracy before he ventured back out, though.

Tracy lived for those moments, no matter how many times she told herself not to. She didn't even have much work to do to distract her. The injuries of the people coming into the warming center consisted of only a few cuts, bumps, and bruises, mostly from falls.

By late afternoon, more people were leaving to return to their homes than arriving. The power company worked furiously, aided by people clearing paths to wherever work needed to be done, restoring power so that people could return home. With everything under control, others told Tracy and Steve to head home, as they were amongst the first to arrive, and had been going for hours.

Tracy glanced over at Steve as they neared the house. With a mental sigh, she thought, How sad am I, that this is the best Valentine's I've had in years?

Steve caught her gaze and smiled at her. "Almost there. What a day — huh?"

"Mmm hmm," Tracy responded, not really trusting her voice in light of the melancholy creeping up on her.

Steve pulled the truck into the drive, and slowly lined up the doors with the paths he'd made earlier in the day. He shut the truck off and said, "I'm hoping that my multi-tool is somewhere here, because I realized that I didn't have it a couple of hours after I left. If it's not here, I'll never find the thing."

"Come on in, and I'll help you look for it," Tracy said as she opened the truck door. Her heart leapt at having even a couple more minutes with him, even though she knew the crash afterwards would be all the harder for it.

As soon as Steve stepped across the threshold into the house, he said, "Whew — there it is," and pointed to his tool sitting on the end table next to the couch, which was still folded out into a bed.

"Glad you found it," Tracy said as she opened the closet door to put away her coat.

Steve crossed the room to retrieve his tool, while Tracy remained leaning into the closet for a few seconds. Part of her was screaming to ask him if he was hungry, or wanted a drink — anything to keep him here longer. The sensible, rational side of her won out, and she closed the closet door after an inaudible sigh.

Steve walked toward her, and the door. "Well, thanks again for dinner, and a place to crash, and the help today."

"You're welcome. Thank you for the Cognac, and the company," Tracy responded.

"Well — I guess I'd better get going," Steve said.

"Safe trip," Tracy said, wondering if the hesitation that she heard in his voice was real, but assuming that it was only a figment of her imagination. Something on the end table caught her eye — a plastic bag. Her brow furrowed, and she asked, "What's that?"

Steve looked back at the bag as he edged toward the door. "It's uh... Well, I... It's for you."

"For me? What is it?"

Steve's face turned bright red. "Guess you'll have to look," he said, and then let out a nervous chuckle.

Tracy walked over, her heart pounding as she approached the bag, and untied the handles. A little oh of surprise escaped her when she saw the silk flower, card, and box of cherry cordials inside.

Steve chuckled again, and said, "You weren't really supposed to find it until I left. It was the best I could do, with only the convenience store open."

Tracy pulled out the card and opened it.

A woman as beautiful as you, inside and out, should have flowers and chocolate for Valentine's Day — Steve.

LesLumens
LesLumens
1,282 Followers