Blaze: A Texas Heat Novel
Blaze
A Texas Heat Novel
By Octavia McKenzie
Kindle & Print Edition
Publisher: Jane Austen & Company
Copyright 2015, Octavia McKenzie
Books by Octavia McKenzie
All Jane Austen’s Men Series
All Jane Austen’s Men, Mr. Darcy’s Journal, Poems & Love Letters
All Jane Austen’s Men, Mr. Knightley & Captain Wentworth’s Journal, Poems & Love Letters
All Jane Austen’s Men, The Journal, Poems & Love Letters of Mr. Darcy, Mr. Knightley & All
Texas Heat Novels
Slow Burn
Where There’s Smoke
Dear Reader,
It’s a privilege and a joy to write for you!
I love connecting with my readers!
Like me on Facebook & share – Octavia McKenzie, Author
Twitter - @octaviawrites1
Instagram - @octaviawrites1
Email – janeausten.united@gmail.com
This book is dedicated to my teachers, the special ones I’ll never forget, you were amazing, I love you all!
5th Grade Mr. Kurs, PS 143 Corona, Queens, NY
6th Grade Mrs. Perez, IS 227, Queens, NY
9th Grade Mrs. Fishback, Plantation High School, Plantation, FL
Table of contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 1
Aberdeen by the Lake, Texas
Eight year old Dylan Chambers watched the girl with unconcealed fascination. She had to be six or seven. Her clothes shabby and mismatched, shoes scuffed and faded. Strawberry blond hair in a riot of curls piled high in a lopsided ponytail. She looked this way and that to make sure the coast was clear. Before he could blink, she darted behind a rose bush. What in the world? Dylan followed. He looked over his shoulder.
Mom flirted outrageously with the school principal. Dad leaned against an ivy covered wall, ignoring her. He flipped through his notes with glasses perched on the tip of his Roman nose.
The Kindergarten teacher pushed kids on the swing. Dylan followed the girl. She stood with her tiny back to him, shoulder blades hunched, her fly away curls, wispy in the breeze. She stood by a metal link fence. Her lunch box laid open at her feet. Dylan’s jaw dropped as she stuffed her sandwich between the links to a homeless woman on the other side.
“I only got peanut butter n’ jelly today, Alice.”
A grubby hand with filthy fingernails took the offered sandwich.
The homeless lady sat down on the uneven sidewalk. The girl plopped down in the grass, a metal fence between them. She rummaged through her tin lunch box with the superhero Wonder Woman on it. Coco puffs in a zip lock bag. They munched in companionable silence. Alice’s oily grey hair threw her face in shadows. The girl smiled. Her two top baby teeth were missing. Dimples flashed in her rosy cheeks. Dylan’s heart did an odd skip. What an adorable kid! The homeless lady thought so too. She grinned back with yellow stained teeth.
“Emerson, you’re the best part of my day,” she whispered.
The girl beamed. “Wanna double chocolate brownie? I made it with my gran, she says chocolate cures everything.”
Alice nodded. “Your gran sounds like a very wise woman indeed.”
The older woman wore several layers of clothes as the sun shined down. A gentle breeze drifted her stench of grime, sweat and unwashed skin. Dylan realized with a start the woman wore all the clothes she owned. Emerson handed her the brownie through the metal link that divided them. Alice took a bite, closed her eyes and groaned with sheer pleasure. “Oh this is so good.”
“Ah huh,” Emerson agreed, “It’s got love in it.”
Dylan’s heart melted on the spot. The homeless woman’s eyes shined with tears.
A bell echoed in the playground.
“Ooo, I gotta go.” Emerson leaped to her feet. She waved. “See ya later alligator.”
“In a while crocodile.”
Alice faded away. Dylan made a hasty retreat.
“Where have you been scout?” his father asked. He rumpled Dylan’s golden brown hair affectionately.
“See that girl?” He pointed out Emerson as she followed the teacher and other kids inside. “That’s the girl I’m gonna marry.”
George Chambers’ lips twisted in a bittersweet line. He glared at his wife. Mom wore a sleek designer suit, killer heels, matching purse, icy blond hair immaculate, make up flawless. She was a beautiful woman to behold. Dad hated her guts. He sneered in mom’s direction. “A word to the wise, my boy. Love makes a man weak, marriage is a business arrangement, nothing more.”
Dylan had no idea what that meant. At eight years old, he understood that his parents deeply loved him but despised each other. Dad’s assistant whispered something in his ear. He signaled to mom. The married enemies held hands like lovers and smiled for the cameras.
“Mr. Mayor! Mr. Mayor!” The reporters called and maneuvered for position. Dylan’s father smiled, a flash of perfect white teeth. “My education bill will help public schools like this one-”
Dylan looked beyond the flashing cameras, the adoring press and his family limousine parked by the curb.
Across the street, the homeless lady Alice shuffled along with a garbage bag full of her meager possessions.
Ten Years Later…
Emerson wore a thrift store dress to the Senior Prom. Gran embroidered it with scraps of old lace. The shoes were only $2 at a garage sale. Emerson was really proud that she bargained with the seller and talked her down from her original $15 asking price. Gran hovered nearby with a pair of costume diamond earrings.
“My, oh my, don’t you look pretty.”
Emerson made a face. She held the old girl’s hand. Gran’s paper thin skin had miles of pale blue veins. Emerson kissed the back of her grandmother’s wrinkled hands.
“Thanks Gran, for everything.”
Nell Riley blushed, pink as a cherub.
“Where is your young man? He’s late.”
Emerson glanced at the grandfather clock. When Jake Callahan asked her to the prom she could hardly believe it. Tall, muscled up, fashion model profile, captain of the basketball team and wildly popular. Mister All American was forty-two minutes late.
“Oh no, I was supposed to meet him there,” Emerson said.
She hurried to the door with her eyes averted. Gran always said her eyes expressed her every emotion.
“What?” Gran huffed, “Back in my day a young man escorted a girl to the dance.”
“It’s all right Gran.” She kissed the weathered cheek.
“I have to go.” Emerson rushed out.
“Have a wonderful night darling, make memories.”
Emerson practically ran down the stairs. She turned back to wave. Gran stood on the porch with a wistful smile. Emerson walked briskly. She would not cry for that bastard. Jake didn't stand her up. Oh no. He asked her to the prom as a joke. He and his buddies were probably having a good laugh at her expense. That son of a B! Emerson was furious that he made her lie to her Gran. Well she'd go to the prom come hell or high water with or without a date. Make memories, Gran said. That’s exactly what Emerson planned to do. Jake Callahan can go suck it!
Dylan Chambers wore the crown at a jaunty angle. He held hands w
ith his queen, Amber, head cheerleader. She had a lithe body that wrapped around his on the dance floor. The prom king and queen swayed under the neon lights as the live band played. She whispered X-rated things in his ear as he held her close. Dylan grinned. Later, his eyes promised. She all but purred and rubbed herself against him. Oh the king would score tonight! She’d been all over him in the limousine.
“Pookie,” she whispered, “Daddy’s lending us the private jet tonight.”
Dylan raised a single eyebrow. “Really? Where are we going?”
“A few thousand feet, long enough for us to join the mile high club.”
Dylan flashed a sexy grin. “Let’s go now.”
She squealed. “I’ll be right back.” He saw her join her Barbie posse as they giggled all the way to the makeup room.
Dylan made his way to the punch bowl. “Vanilla Spice!” Jake slapped his back.
“Hey,” Dylan said.
“I see you got Amber on lock.”
Dylan shrugged with a secretive smile. “You and Tiff going out later?”
“You know it,” Jake crowed. “Gonna take the yacht out to the lake and rock the boat, know what I’m sayin’?”
“Enjoy, I know I will.”
“Yo, I got a funny for you, I asked another girl to the prom.”
“Don’t tell Tiff, she’ll go all Fatal Attraction on you.”
Jake laughed. “Check it, I asked Bookworm and stood her geek ass up.”
Dylan went very still. The look he gave Jake wiped the smile off his smug face.
“You did what?” his voice lashed out in a way that made Jake back up a few steps.
“Chill man, it’s a joke, she has to know that I wasn’t serious, someone like me ask out a nobody like her? Come on!”
The cruelty of it angered Dylan beyond reason. “Why?” he hissed, “Why would you do that to her? She has nothing.”
Jake held up his hands. “Don’t shoot, okay?”
No asshole, not okay!
Dylan bristled with hostility. He growled in Jake’s face. “What has she ever done to you?”
Amber, Tiffany and their popular clique joined the guys.
“Yo Amber, back me up, I played a joke on Bookworm.”
Amber rolled her eyes. “Emerson Riley should just kill herself already.”
Dylan’s jaw dropped. “What the hell Amber?”
The pretty blond shrugged. “She’s ugly, fat, a total nerd, dirt poor white trash.”
Dylan’s jaw clenched. Tiffany chewed her pink bubble gum with a loud snap and pop. “What do you care?” she asked Dylan. “You never talk to her anyways.”
He had a damn good reason for that but he wasn’t about to explain himself to a girl who thought The American Civil War was fought in the 1970s.
“Oh snap, look what just crawled out of the garbage dump,” Jake said.
Emerson walked under the arch of balloons with her head held high, shoulders squared. Dylan rarely allowed himself the luxury of looking directly at her. He stared his fill. She was an itty bitty thing, petite. The homemade dress did nothing to conceal her perky breasts, slender waist and an ass that made him wanna just-
“Dude,” Jake said, “She’s a bottom feeder, way, way low on the food chain.”
“Bet she got that Little House on the Prairie dress from Goodwill,” Amber sneered.
“Salvation Army couture,” Tiffany countered. The girls laughed and high fived.
“Let’s go,” Amber pouted prettily.
Dylan didn’t spare her a glance. “Give me a sec.” Suddenly, sex at 37,000 feet with Amber no longer appealed to him. He knew she was every boy’s wet dream but after the ugly things she said, Dylan felt completely turned off. He stalled by getting them both glasses of punch. As the music blared he scanned the crowd. Couples danced, chaperons stood guard and the band rocked on. His blue eyes locked on Emerson Riley.
She walked regally past their ‘in’ crowd. She didn’t give Jake the satisfaction of acknowledgement. Dylan felt a surge of pride. Good for you girl! She walked to the back of the dance hall where the wallflowers mingled.
These were the unwanted, the least popular girls of Aberdeen Prep. Most were at the exclusive private high school on scholarship. They knew what it meant to be the working poor. Some were plump, others wore bottle glasses, braces or had a face covered in zits. Dylan thought Emerson would join them but much to his surprise she grabbed two of the girls by the hand and led them to the dance floor. Within minutes, Emerson had all the wallflowers dancing, smiling and laughing. Dylan felt his heart melt.
How did she do it? Her empathy and compassion moved him, touched him. God, she’s so damn sweet! It never occurred to him to even look in the wallflower’s direction let alone ask them to dance. But she knew how those girls felt – rejected, unattractive, definitely not wanted. Dylan had no idea he’d had a change of heart until he told Amber where to shove her daddy’s jet.
“Excuse me?” Amber gasped.
“We’re done, you and I.”
Tiffany and the other cheerleaders scattered. The gossip spread with astonishing speed. Amber, the prom queen, the most popular girl in school, just got dumped.
“Dylan,” she hissed, looking around self-consciously, “You can’t break up with me.”
“I just did.”
“I’m Amber Vahn, girls wanna be me, boys wanna do me.”
What did I ever see in her? Dylan asked himself, amazed, besides the smoking hot body? “You’re the ugliest person I’ve ever met,” Dylan said quietly. He walked away and left her sputtering.
Emerson had the time of her life. Much to her surprise, half the football team asked the wallflowers to dance. She peered over her shoulder as Dylan Chambers leaned close to Donavan McClain, the running back and murmured in his ear. Immediately, the popular jock approached one of the wallflowers. Dylan grabbed her absentee date by the arm, said something before Jake asked her friend and fellow wallflower, Harper Grant to dance.
Chapter 2
Emerson allowed herself to look at Dylan full on. Dear God in heaven, no one should look that good. He stood six foot two, broad shoulders, the length of him all solid muscle. His chiseled face, aqua blue eyes and sun kissed chestnut hair did strange things to her pulse. He always had that effect on her. From the first time she saw him walk into History class. That day she drifted home in a daze.
She cooked watered down stew for Gran in the hopes it would stretch till the end of the week. Nell eyed her quizzically over a steaming bowl.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked in her kind, unobtrusive way. Emerson slumped back in her chair. “Gran, I don’t want you to think I’m a silly boy crazy girl.”
Gran’s eyes twinkled. “I would never think that. You’re my little scholar.”
Emerson was at the top of her class. Gran proudly displayed her honor roll student awards all over their tiny Victorian bungalow.
Emerson covered her face in mortification. “I keep thinking about him, it’s so annoying.”
Gran took a sip of mint tea. “Does our mystery boy have a name?”
“Dylan Chambers.”
Nell cackled. “Those Chamber lads were always sweet on the eye.”
“Oh Gran, he’s so beautiful.”
“So are you my darling.”
Emerson stared at him now, drinking the sight of him in. As if sensing her, Dylan looked up. Their eyes locked and held. Holy crap! Being on the receiving end of those piercing blue eyes made her shiver and tingle all over. Lord! She could stare at him all day long. He moved through the crowd never taking his eyes off her. Emerson swallowed hard. She wanted to run but Gran didn’t raise a coward. He reached her at last. They stood facing each other in the middle of the dance floor.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
“May I have this dance?”
Make memories, Gran said. Emerson nodded, “Yes,” she whispered.
She stepped into his arms. His touch felt like an electric shock. Something flashed in his eyes that she couldn’t identify.
The band played a tortured rendition of Rod Stewart’s Down Town Train.
“Dylan Chambers,” she breathed, as if he were Elvis Presley or Justin Timberlake.
“Emerson Riley,” he made her name sound like a prayer. She was shocked he even knew it.
“I know who you are,” he said softly.
“We’ve never talked before,” she said. Indeed, why would they? He ran with the country club set – rich, popular and gorgeous. He came from a vast political dynasty. His last name synonymous with power. Senators, Governors and Mayors were in his blood line traced back 150 years. The Chambers lived in the lush hills overlooking Aberdeen Lake.
Emerson could trace her family line too. Her dad was in maximum security prison like his dad and his dad before him. Her mom was an alcoholic, in and out of rehab. Oh she had rich relatives, aunts and uncles who sold heroin and cocaine to business men, housewives, kids, they were equal opportunity drug dealers and they didn’t care who overdosed or how many lives they ruined.
Gran refused their blood money and shielded Emerson from the lot of them. It wasn’t easy. They lived frugally on Gran’s social security check and the extra cash from Emerson’s baking. Emerson’s high grades in public school caught the attention of the Headmaster of Aberdeen Prep. The prestigious high school screamed Ivy League. It cost $40,000 a year to attend. Emerson was offered a full scholarship. The sons and daughters of the rich and privileged never let her forget it. No wonder dancing with Dylan Chambers felt surreal.
“Everyone is staring,” Emerson said.
“Do you care?”
“No.”
“Good.” He slid his fingers between hers. They walked out hand in hand amid a firestorm of gossip. By dawn the whole town would know that Dylan Chambers dumped Amber Vahn for The Bookworm.
Dylan walked her home. He should let go of her hand but God help him, he couldn’t. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. They walked in companionable silence beneath the creek and sway of a tunnel of mighty oak trees. The branches and leaves arched across the star lit sky. Moonshine winked silver lights above. Lover’s Lane led to town square. They strolled past quaint stores, antique shops, horse and buggy rides, empty stalls of the farmer’s market, a 1950s silver diner called The Dixie Pixie and a small park with a Victorian gazebo, bandstand, playground, scattered benches and a fountain that overflowed with suds and bubbles.