Page 61 of Restless Ink
She blinked back unexpected tears. “Yeah, we do. And, Carter? You’re totally a Montgomery. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”
“I can do that.”
She smiled again. “Okay, I’ll let you eat. I need to go in the back and deal with my damn oven. It’s been acting up today, and I don’t have time for that. Not today.” She had the afternoon off to be with Dimitri and didn’t want to waste time, but if she couldn’t get a repairman in soon after she checked it out, she was screwed.
Carter wiped his mouth again and put his napkin on his plate. “I’m all done. Why don’t I take a look for you.”
“You fix cars. Not ovens.”
“True, and I’m not pulling the little lady routine either. I’m just good at fixing things. Most things, anyway.” He shook his head and, once again, she had to wonder if he meant something far deeper than what they were actually talking about. “Anyway, I’ve had to tinker with our oven at home a few times since we need a new one but it’s not in the budget right now. And I had to do it growing up at home when my mom didn’t want to part with her favorite appliance.”
Thea snorted. “I have a favorite oven, too, though that one’s working just fine.” She knocked on the wood paneling on their way back to the kitchen. “Knock on wood, right? Have you ever dealt with a professional convection oven?”
“Once. You’re the one with the experience when it comes to those, but if I can help, then it’ll save you time and money, right?”
“I’ll pay you in pastry if you can fix it.”
Carter grinned. “You do that, and I’ll have to work out more if I want to keep in my jeans.” He patted his no-doubt rock-hard abs. Roxie’s husband was one attractive man, and Thea figured he could indulge in a few more pastries if he wanted—not that she’d say that aloud.
The two of them made their way back to the kitchen where her oven lay quiet, annoying her. She’d made do with her other ones, but she was seriously pissed off.
Carter frowned, taking a look at it before bending down. “So, it’s not heating?”
“It’s heating for like five minutes, then it stops. I don’t get it.”
He went to the side of it and looked around, not touching anything before stiffening and standing quickly. “This looks tampered with.”
She froze herself. “What?”
There was a hissing sound, then a loud boom that shook the floor beneath her feet. Carter was suddenly on top of her, slamming her hard into the floor as the wall behind the oven caught fire, flames dancing along the ceiling and over her precious countertops.
But that wasn’t why Carter had pushed her way.
No, because there were other flames, closer flames, ones that burned and singed and made her scream. Ones that flowed exactly where she and Carter had been standing.
He’d pushed her out of the way, but her arm hurt, and she’d hit her head. Then smoke filled her lungs, and others screamed around them. She tried to push at Carter but he didn’t budge, and she was having trouble focusing. She called his name and knew that others were doing the same around her, but they were both in trouble, both hurt. And Roxie’s husband had not only saved her life but had risked his in the process.
When the sprinklers went on, the fire died, but she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t do anything.
Instead, the sirens came, along with Shep, Adrienne, Ryan, and Mace from the tattoo shop, as well as Abby from her tea shop. Then she saw Dimitri, horror on his face as he went to his knees beside her. He was calling her name, but she couldn’t hear it, and she knew something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.
She wondered if she’d lost everything. Because no matter how hard she fought, it all seemed to be slipping away, one flame, one choice at a time.
Hours later,Thea found herself lying in a hospital bed, a bandage on her arm, another scratching at her chin. She was damn lucky that nothing else was wrong with her, and she knew it. But she still couldn’t stop shaking.
Her bakery. Her future. Her work.
Not gone, but hurt.
Her body hurt.
And Carter…she sucked in a breath. She couldn’t think about Carter without wanting to scream or hit something. He’d only been in the kitchen to help her, and if she’d been standing where he had been like she planned, she would have gotten hurt far worse.
“Thea? Talk to me.” Dimitri sat next to her bed, holding her unbandaged hand. “Are you feeling dizzy? Do you need me to get the nurse?”
She looked over at him, studying the lines of his face. The new creases that had come when he’d seen her on the floor under Carter, smoke in the air, and water drenching the floor and every part of her shop.
“I’m not hurting. Tell me again what happened? I mean, after the explosion.”