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  Married This Year 2

  Simmering Love

  Tracey Pedersen

  Married This Year 2. Simmering Love.

  Copyright © 2017 Tracey Pedersen

  All Rights Reserved

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical or electronic, including photocopying, scanning or recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the author. This includes transmission by email.

  Reviewers are permitted to quote brief passages for the purpose of reviewing only.

  Married This Year 2. Simmering Love is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is purely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized by, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to NaNoWriMo. What an amazing organisation they are. One that helps authors remove the blinders that have them thinking a decent book should take three years to write.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Acknowledgment

  Want To See Your Name In Married This Year 3?

  Sneak Peek

  Where Can You Find Me?

  Chapter One

  The smoke alarm wailed and shrieked as Rachel swatted at it with a towel. Her first priority when it first started with its by-now familiar alarm was to silence the noise, and she’d leapt up to rush clean air into the sensor. She shook her head as she glanced behind her; she should know by now that this was always the second priority. It was impossible to make the noise stop when black smoke continued to billow out behind her.

  She dropped the towel onto the dining table and turned back to the grill, where her snack of hot cross buns now smoked like a forest fire. She pulled the tray out of the oven and threw it onto the gas top cooker, choking a little on the acrid fumes.

  Of course, there was no fire, only the charred remains of what should have been a tasty snack. The smoke alarm had no way of telling the difference, though, and it continued its screams, attempting to draw attention from someone. She covered the buns with a tea towel to keep the smoke at bay, ran over to the window to open it wide and returned to flapping at the white sphere attached to the roof of her kitchen.

  Damn, I have to pay more attention to this stuff!

  As her thoughts turned negative, a man she’d never met burst through her front door. He was wide-eyed and came prepared to find the worst, judging by his flushed face. He held a fire extinguisher in front of him and wasted no time rushing in and flailing around, looking for the source of the danger. He stopped when he was almost face-to-face with her, as she kept flapping, her arms stretched above her head.

  “Hi!” she said in her friendliest voice. “It’s okay, the kitchen isn’t on fire this time.”

  “Oh, thank God. I feared the worst when it didn’t immediately stop.” He glanced up at the alarm and frowned. “It will stop won’t it?”

  “Eventually. I’m surprised it hasn’t given up, after all the workouts I give it.” She raised her voice so he could hear her clearly, “could you open the balcony door?”

  He nodded and set the red extinguisher on the table. In three lanky steps he reached the glass door, dragging it open. Fresh air poured in and the smoke gradually escaped into the sunshine. A merciful silence settled on them and Rachel dropped her arms and sighed, relieved that the noise had stopped. She leaned on the back of a chair and laughed as the stranger stood awkwardly in her kitchen.

  “Are you new in the building? I’m Rachel, by the way.” She held out her hand.

  “Jeff.” He shook her hand and smiled. “I moved in this week. Nice to meet you.” He glanced at the tea towel on the stove and his smile widened. “What did you kill?”

  “Some left over hot cross buns from the freezer. I thought they’d take longer since they were frozen. Turns out, not so much.”

  He laughed and picked up his fire-fighting weapon. “I thought the whole building would be here by the time I got in.”

  She bit her lip, and smiled sheepishly at him. “They know by now not to bother. You should take a leaf out of their book. This happens a lot.” She waved her hand at the ceiling. “They’re used to me by now and they don’t come running. I apologise in advance for the alarm going off all the time.”

  “Is it faulty?”

  She sighed at his optimism. “No, the only faulty thing around here is the cook! I’m crap and I give it a regular workout.”

  “Well, okay then.” He moved toward the door and called over his shoulder. “I don’t think you’re faulty. You’re beautiful.” He pointed at the smoke detector, “don’t forget to change the batteries regularly.”

  Chapter Two

  “Why does this taste burnt?” Lori eyed her corn cob, bringing it up to her face with narrowed eyes. The dried kernels told her what she needed to know and her gaze slid to Rachel, whose trademark grin was plastered on her face.

  “Whatever do you mean?” Rachel asked, with a sweet lilt in her voice.

  “Don’t play innocent. I knew I should have been worried when you said you had a tonne of work to get through and that you were cooking dinner for me.” She put the offending corn on her plate and cut into her steak, instead. She chewed and watched Rachel, waiting for a confession that never came. “Did you boil the saucepan dry again?”

  Rachel burst out laughing and picked up her own corn. She turned it around and held it out to her friend. “Look: parts of it are even toasted.” She laughed and rubbed butter on it before taking a big, crunchy bite. “It’s not so bad. It tastes totally normal.”

  “I’m unconvinced. You can have mine.”

  The two women chewed silently as Rachel continued to chuckle. She finished her corn and reached for Lori’s. She tried not to let her nose wrinkle and show her own distaste for the meal she’d created.

  If only I’d stayed in the kitchen, instead of opening my laptop in the office.

  “Did the smoke alarm go off?”

  “Of course. Do you expect anything less in this house?”

  “Well, you set it off most days, so I’m not surprised.”

  “I do not. Only on the days I cook.” They both laughed. “Those days are becoming farther and farther apart. Last week, I got pasta from that cute Italian shop and had it for dinner over several days. Voila! No need to cook!”

  Lori rolled her eyes and poked at the potato on her plate. The skin was wrinkled—a result of being over-cooked in the microwave, no doubt. Rachel didn’t care how she cooked the food, as long as it was quick and relatively edible. Their views on what was edible, however, were not quite the same. As the sour cream slid off the potato, she was reminded that her best friend had long ago learned to cover up her awful cooking with sauces and condiments.

  “Let’s not talk about my stellar cooking skills. What did you decide we were going to do on the weekend?”

  “Well,” Lori chose her words with care, “we can go to a cooking class, which is quite pertinent, since I’m eating bur
nt, frozen corn and wrinkled potatoes.”

  “Oh yuck, I don’t want to do a cooking class. I’m a lost cause that no amount of instruction will improve.” She pushed her plate aside, the second ear of corn uneaten. “They always make fancy things, too—not what a normal person would cook on a Wednesday night after an exhausting day at work. Besides, you’re a great cook. You’d be tagging along to keep me company, or show me up when you make handmade spring rolls without an ounce of difficulty, while I’m busy starting an oil fire.” She grinned as she cut another piece of steak and ignored the pink centre. Lori noticed and didn’t let it slide.

  “How is it possible that my steak is cooked to perfection, while you’ve overcooked everything else?”

  “No idea. A complete accident, I assure you, since I forgot to put the steak in the pan when I meant to. Be glad you’re not chewing through tough leather right now. Why are you still surprised by these dinners? We both know who the shitty chef is here.”

  “You could be right about that. You won’t like my second choice for the weekend any better than you like the cooking class idea, though.”

  “Ugh. What is it?”

  “Skydiving.”

  “What? No way! You want us to jump out of a plane?” Rachel’s face turned pale as the blood drained to her toes.

  “Yep. We agreed on a new experience each month and we’ve never skydived.”

  “Geez, Lori. We’ve never pushed a car three kilometres in the blazing sun, either, or jumped into the gorilla enclosure at the zoo. That doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to try it! Couldn’t you dream up something a bit less life-threatening?”

  “It was my turn to choose. This challenge was your idea, so you can’t back out now that you don’t like my choices. I have another option.” Rachel eyed her with a hopeful expression.

  Let it be an easier choice.

  “We could hire male escorts for the weekend to satisfy our every need.”

  “Eww! What? Are you serious?”

  “Nope. I wanted to make the skydiving seem less terrifying.” Lori laughed out loud as her friend made faces at her, accompanied by choking sounds and eye rolling. “Remember your ex, Barry? I hear he’s keeping the ladies happy these days—for money.”

  “Ha! I’ve heard that, too. I’m surprised he finds that job fulfilling. Remember how hung up he was on my hair? It always had to be the right style or he’d send me to the bathroom to change it. Can you imagine him as an escort and not being able to choose who he was seen with?” she shook her head, remembering the six months they’d spent together when she was twenty. “I can’t imagine it.”

  Slouching in her chair, Rachel’s voice was weak as her eyelashes fluttered. “I imagined we’d go to a pottery class or learn flower arranging as part of our challenge to ourselves. Maybe go to a speed dating night. I didn’t think I’d be facing my own death. I can’t die, yet. I’m only twenty-five!”

  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. It’s tandem jumping, so we’ll be strapped to an instructor and we won’t even have to pull the chute. They’ll look after us.” She pushed her plate away. The food was piled to one side and she’d cut up the potato to try to hide how much was left; despite the wrinkled skin, it was hard in the centre. “Maybe,” she put on her most hopeful face, “the ones you and I are strapped to will be cute. We’ll get two thrills for the price of one.”

  Rachel gathered the dinner plates, “I hope so. I could use a nice man, but I bet the closest I’ll come to one after skydiving is a paramedic!”

  “With that attitude, you’ll never meet anyone you like enough to let inside the inner sanctum. You said it yourself: you’re only twenty-five. It’s time to loosen up and get back in the dating game, woman!”

  “I know you’re right. I’m just so sick of people like Barry. I’m not going to put up with someone commenting on my appearance every day. I’ve had enough of that. The new guy who lives upstairs told me I was beautiful five minutes after I met him. Maybe I need to go dating in a disguise and let them fall for me before they know what I look like. I heard someone on the radio who did that.”

  “Sigh. The curse of being beautiful.” Lori clutched her heart and rolled her eyes. “You have it so hard.”

  Rachel threw her napkin at her and they both laughed. “I sound so conceited, I know that. You were there, though: you know the crap that’s been pulled on me.” She looked at her friend and a tiny amount of guilt niggled at her. Lori was as attractive as Rachel, with dark hair to Rachel’s blonde. The two had been friends since high school, but Lori had managed to not once date someone who constantly commented on her looks.

  “I do, but I didn’t come here to discuss your sad love life. Are we going skydiving or not?”

  Rachel bit her lip and stared at her friend. With an over-exaggerated sigh, she relented. “Alright, let’s do it. Where do we book?”

  “Well,” it was Lori’s turn to look guilty, “we’re going tomorrow.” Her words tumbled out in a rush.

  “What? Tomorrow!”

  “Yes. When I rang to enquire, they said they’d had a cancellation. If we didn’t go tomorrow, we had to wait six weeks, and by then it will be your turn to choose a new activity for us.”

  Rachel dumped the dishes in the kitchen sink and flopped into her chair. The two women looked at each other, wide-eyed. Lori looked as terrified as Rachel and within a few moments, they started giggling. Horrified by their decision, they kept laughing as they discussed the sleepless night they were both about to have.

  Chapter Three

  Rachel pulled into the carpark of the skydiving school a few minutes after nine. She had endured a sleepless night worrying about today’s adventure. Any moment now, her legs would start shaking and she’d have trouble walking to the office to register. Lori’s hands shook as she sat beside her, and she smirked to herself as she imagined the staff watching them hold each other up as they walked across the carpark.

  Other people were getting out of their cars, which meant there would be a group of them. She hoped they were just as inexperienced. The sound of her screaming from the moment they left the plane to when they hit the ground would be less embarrassing if the others were scared, too.

  Two cute men got out of a car across the lot and made their way toward the office. Rachel turned to watch Lori unfolding her tall frame from the passenger side. Her friend looked pale, but determined, with her lips pursed firmly together. She’d hoped Lori might call it off this morning, but she hadn’t been that lucky.

  The office where registration would take place was a temporary building. It sat all alone some distance from the runway, and fences ran between it and a wobbly-looking shed erected on the grass near to the runway. Portable toilets were attached to the shed, and the girls could see coloured parachutes laid out on the ground. Two men were going over each chute and then packing them into their respective bags. Rachel gulped as she thought again of the thin material that would take her safely from a fully functioning aircraft all the way to the ground below.

  There’s still time to change your mind. Lori will understand.

  No, she couldn’t do that. Their pact to try a new thing each month for six months was going well. She’d planned to book a creative writing class for them, but now she was tempted to choose something to get back at Lori for her bad choice today. An internet search was how she planned to spend her afternoon, as long as she survived the jump from the plane.

  Lori nudged her and they set off toward the office. It was a clear, sunny day, and Rachel told herself the trickle of sweat running down her back was from the heat. The teasing between them had stopped as they approached the door. They were going through with this challenge! Air-conditioning mercifully greeted them as they pushed open the office door and found themselves standing with eight other people in the small space.

  The two men from the carpark had registered and were directed to a door to the side. The receptionist was giving them instructions and informing them there would be a forty-five
minute intensive induction, since they were first-timers.

  Well, that answers that question. The hot boys are beginners, like us.

  Rachel tore her eyes away from the tallest man’s shoulders as he disappeared through the door. The other two men in line, who were wearing what looked like professional jumpsuits, were directed to a door to the right of the desk. Everyone in the room would have known they were experienced jumpers, even without the receptionist loudly welcoming them and flirting with one of them. They continued to chat and laugh as Rachel’s foot began to tap on the floor.

  We need to get this happening before I’m tempted to run!

  The couple in front of her were chatting and the woman quietly asked her companion if they had to do this. He grinned and patted her on the shoulder. The way he looked at her with his sparkling blue eyes made it obvious he was in love. She was beautiful—of course he was in love with her.

  Hey, no negative thoughts today! What I wouldn’t give to have someone look at me like that one day.

  The couple was ushered to the door to the left and it was Rachel and Lori’s turn to register. They filled in their forms, confirmed the payment, and signed a safety waiver promising not to hold the company accountable should they be injured, or worse. Rachel giggled to herself as she signed. No one took that clause seriously, did they? She’d be the first to ask for compensation if she broke her neck! It was soon their turn to head through the beginner’s door, and find out what was in store for them on the other side.

  The door opened onto a cramped room with chairs set up in rows and a television hanging from the wall. The others had found their seats and an instructor wearing a shirt with the name of the company indicated they should sit, too, before he launched into his speech.

  “Thanks for joining us for skydiving today. Who’s excited?” he glanced around the room as the two men at the front raised their hands and nudged each other. Everyone else sat quietly, and the instructor pressed on. “I feel some nervousness in the air!” he exclaimed as he rubbed his hands together and grinned at them all.