Through the Fire Read Online Free Page A

longer—just to hold on to this feeling a little longer. Feeling. His stomach tightened.
    “I’m not sure. I need to work on some songs and I’ve gotten behind my deadline.”
    “You, uh, work from home or at a studio?”
    “Both.” She smiled. “It depends on everyone’s schedule. Actually, studio time is scheduled for next Wednesday. Maybe…you’d like to sit in.” Oh, Lord, what am I doing?
    He hadn’t set foot in a studio in nearly three years. His own CD was long overdue. He just hadn’t been able to bring himself to— “Whattime Wednesday?” he asked before he realized the question had crossed his lips and he couldn’t take it back.
    “Nine in the morning. We’ll be at it all day.”
    He shrugged. “Cool. Maybe I’ll check you out.”
    Rae dug in her purse for her wallet and pulled out a business card. “Here’s the address,” she said, handing him the gold-leafed, embossed card.
    Quinn reached for it. Their fingertips brushed and they were both jolted by the contact.
    For a moment neither of them moved, neither dared to speak until the current had run its course.
    “Thanks,” Quinn uttered, wanting to kiss her instead of saying goodbye.
    “So, uh, maybe I’ll see you Wednesday.” Rae clasped the straps of her shoulder bag with both hands.
    “Yeah. Maybe.” Quinn jutted his chin toward the steps of Rae’s building. “You oughta go on in.”
    Rae released a nervous puff of air, smiling inanely before taking two steps back, thenstarting up the steps. “Good night,” she tossed over her shoulder, opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind her.
    Quinn stood there for a minute until he saw lights in the third-floor window slide through the slats of the blinds. He made a note to himself, then headed back to the club to retrieve his Jeep.
    Rae watched his departure from the darkened window of her bedroom and knew with certainty that Quinten Parker might be walking away, but he would be back. She didn’t know how she knew it, she just did.

Chapter 4
    Q uinn moved slowly through his apartment, the warmth of a new day bouncing off the plants in the window.
    The spacious rooms seemed more empty than usual today, now that Jamel was back in San Francisco with his mother. He’d grown accustomed to Jamel’s early morning wake-up call of “Daddy, I’m hungry.” He smiled, pulling sheets off the bed for the laundry, while promising himself that he would call his son later in the day.
    He shoved the sheets then damp towels in a laundry bag and set it by the door. It was good having someone in your life, he grudgingly admitted, hauling the bag down the stairs and out to his Jeep, hoping to slide under Mrs. Finch’s radar before she snagged him for some errand or another. He turned the key and the soothing hum of the engine vibrated beneath him.
    He missed having someone to look out for, care about, someone he could come home to and share his day with. He’d always been a loner, content to do his thing by himself. Until he’d met Nikita. She’d changed all that for him. And after he’d lost her, he knew without a doubt that he’d never have those feelings again, those needs again. But having his son with him had relit the fire that had been doused by pain and disillusionment, and meeting Rae Lindsay had been like tossing kindling on the smoldering flames. But was he truly ready to walk through the fire to the promise of possibility on the other side? He was no longer sure if he knew how.
     
    Rae sat on the piano bench, her nimble fingers tinkering with the keys. A new arrangement of notes for a song had haunted her throughout the night. Several times she’d gotten out of bed and found her way to the baby grand that sat like a Buddha in the center of her living room. The melody would come to her in bursts, then fade, and she would stumble back to bed only to be magnetically drawn back moments later.
    It was always this way with her—this creative thing that she could not