~ ~ ~
Holly is sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a beer, when I emerge from my bedroom. She runs her hand down the side of the bottle, her finger catching the condensation as she looks up at me guiltily.
“I’m sorry,” she says, at the same time as I say, “Thank you.”
“Wait, what?” she asks. “Thank you?”
I fetch myself a bottle of water from the refrigerator and sit next to her. “If you’d done this before, I would have hated you. Before, I was frozen in time. I was unable to move forward. I had nothing but her memory. But now …” I look down at the lei that’s still around my neck. Then I nod back to my room. “The book. It’s … it’s perfect. Thank you so much.”
Holly lets out a long, relieved breath. Then I pull my chair next to hers and make her sit here as I page through the pictures I took in Hawaii. I tell her all the things I hadn’t already told her on our phone calls. The sun has gone down by the time I finish talking.
My sister wraps me in a hug. “I’ve missed you.”
I laugh. “You already said that at the airport.”
“Yeah, but that was me missing your physical presence. I’ve also missed my sister. My best friend. The talks we used to have. The things we used to do. That person is back now. And I’m pretty sure I know who to thank for it.”
I smile thinking of Bass. Then I check the time. He wanted me to stop by the firehouse to see him tonight. And even though the long flight and the time change has me feeling off, I still can’t wait to see him.
“Just let me change and freshen up. Then you can come to the firehouse with me and thank him in person.”
“Seriously?” she says, smiling and looking down at her clothes. “Well, shit, I guess I’d better put on something that shows a little more cleavage then.”
I laugh. “Men don’t like you for your boobs, Hol.”
She pats my hand in a motherly fashion. “Oh, my sweet, innocent, baby sister.” Then she darts to her bedroom to, no doubt, put on something that will have Bass’s coworkers drooling over her.
Chapter Twenty-three
Sebastian
“Briggs!” Cameron yells from the garage. “Someone’s here to see you.”
I smile, walking down the hall with an extra spring in my step.
“Two someones, actually,” Cameron says as I round the corner. “Two hot someones.”
We just finished eating dinner, so everyone is in the main room. And they are all looking at me.
“What?” I say. “I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see my girl. So sue me.”
I push through the doors out into the garage where Justin is already greeting our guests.
Ivy and I lock eyes. Damn. I wish everyone wasn’t watching. Because all I want to do is pick her up in my arms and kiss her.
Oh, what the hell.
I stride over to her and lift her off the ground and into a hug before my lips come crashing down on hers. Her legs clamp around my waist as we taste each other for the first time in two weeks.
The laughter and whistles I hear in the background don’t even bother me. I don’t care about anything other than the fact that I’m kissing this woman and she’s kissing me back. I know she just got back from Hawaii this afternoon, but with this one kiss, I could swear she’s telling me she’s okay.
When we finally break apart, I put her down. “Hi,” I say, brushing a stray hair behind her ear.
“Hi, yourself.”
I nod to her sister. “Hey, Holly.”
She smiles at me. “Bass.”
“Justin Neal,” Justin says, coming to stand between Ivy and Holly. He holds out his hand to Holly, checking out her cleavage.
“Holly Greene,” she says, shaking his hand while she blatantly peruses the muscles on his arms. She looks over at Ivy and raises her eyebrows in appreciation.
“Looks like a match made in heaven,” Ivy whispers to me.
She has no idea how right she is. Justin is the playboy of Squad 13—hell, he’s the playboy of the firehouse, maybe the entire battalion.
“Come on. Let me introduce you to the guys and then I’ll give you a tour.”
“So, Justin,” Holly says, looking over at the rigs. “Which one of these do you work on?”
He points to it. “That one. I’m the engineer, uh, the driver.”
“Oooooh, really? I’d love to see your … truck,” she says with a sultry grin.
He laughs. “I’d love to show it to you. Right this way.” Justin looks over at us. “Catch you later. Nice to meet you, Ivy.”
“You, too,” Ivy says to him as they walk the other way. Then she turns to me. “Did we even meet? I think once he saw Holly, he didn’t even know anyone else was in the room. That tends to happen a lot.”
“Sweetheart, your sister has nothing on you. You’re both gorgeous.”
“She got more in the boob department.”
I look at Ivy’s chest. “Your boobs are fantastic.” I shift myself around. “Shit, now I’m getting hard.”
She giggles.
God, I can’t wait to get her alone.
I take her inside and introduce her to the guys from Engine and Squad. When she meets Lieutenant Brett Cash, the OIC of Squad, she whispers in my ear, “Wow. Holly will be disappointed she didn’t see him first.”
I elbow her. “Oh, you think he’s good-looking, do you?”
She shrugs. “He’s all right, I guess. But I’ll bet he doesn’t play guitar the way you do.”
I shake my head and smile. “I’m the only one here who plays. Besides, Cash is married. Has a baby, too.”
Debbe and Ryan come through the doors. “Guys, I’d like you to meet Ivy Greene. Ivy, this is Debbe Kane and Ryan Reed. They’re our paramedics.”
“Nice to meet you.”
The alarm sounds, but just for EMS.
Ivy watches Debbe and Ryan head out the door and then she looks back at me and the rest of the guys who aren’t bothering to move. “Don’t you have to go?”
“No. They didn’t call for Engine or Squad. We’re good for now. The paramedics go on more calls than the rest of us.”
“Oh, good,” she says. “You used to do that, right?”
“Yeah, before I went to the fire academy.”
“What’s the difference between a paramedic and an EMT?” she asks.
“Well, paramedics have a lot more training. Whereas EMTs can do basic things like administer oxygen and splint broken limbs, paramedics are trained to put in IVs, push meds and intubate.”
“You know how to do all that?” she asks. “Put tubes down people’s throats and help them breathe?”
“I do.”
“Wow. Is everyone here a paramedic?”
“No. Most of them are EMTs with the exception of J.D., Cash, and me.” I wave my hand around the room. “Do you want a tour?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Well, this is the day room. It’s pretty much where we hang out when we have nothing else to do.” I walk her past the recliners, the large TV, and the huge table that seats all of us. “And over here are some games.” I show her the foosball table and the dart board.
Then we head down the hall. “In there is our weight room. We work out a lot. Over there are some offices.” We climb the stairs. “And here is the bunk room.”
She looks around at the large room with beds separated by chest-high partitions. “I’ve wondered what this would look like,” she says. “It’s pretty much how they show it in the movies.”
“Some of the newer houses have separate cubbies for each person, but this is how most of the houses in the city are set up.”
“Where is yours?” she asks.
I walk her to the back wall and motion to my space. She steps in and sits down on my bed. Then she smiles when she sees what’s on my side table. She picks up the framed picture of her, one I took when we were on the beach.
“So I can wake up to your beautiful face every day,” I say, reaching out to her.<
br />
She puts her hand in mine. I want nothing more than to tackle her onto my bed and make love to her. I’ve thought about nothing else this past week.
“Are you … okay?” I ask.
I know she knows what I mean. We’ve talked a lot over the past week about her coming back to New York. About her coming back to reality. She was so worried about sinking back into depression. It would kill me to find out that all the progress she made in Hawaii was for naught.
She squeezes my hand. “I think I just might be getting there.”
I lean down and kiss her forehead. “Come on, we’d better finish the tour before I have to go on a call.”
Walking out of the bunk room, she notices something. She points to the pole in the corner. “You actually have a pole? I thought maybe that was just in the movies.”
“All of the older firehouses have them,” I say, walking her over to it. “But most don’t use it anymore. See how this one is fenced off?”
“Why don’t you use it?”
“You’d be amazed how many ankle and leg injuries firefighters got from landing the wrong way. And in some cases, people would fall through the opening when they were in a hurry at two or three in the morning.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. As a whole, the fire service has tried to go away from poles, and outside the city, most new stations are now only one story.”
“Darn,” she says with a smirk. “I was kind of looking forward to seeing you slide down the pole.”
I laugh. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you on a pole, either.”
Our heated stares burn into each other. I grab her hand. “Let’s go before we get indecent.”
Down in the garage, I show her the truck I work on. “This is Engine 319.”
She looks at it. “Where’s the ladder?”
“Engines don’t have them. Those trucks are called Ladders and we don’t have one at this station. Engine trucks are the first line of fire suppression and we also go on a lot of medical calls. Ladder trucks are for aerial suppression. And then there’s Squad.” I point to the squad truck only to see Holly and Justin making out in the front seat. I shake my head and laugh.
“Looks like we might have to make it a double date tomorrow night,” Ivy says.
I pull her close to my side. “As long as I get to take you home after.”
She smiles up at me. “I think that could be arranged.”
Her smile and her declaration have my cock stirring. I tug on her hand. “There is one more room I want to show you,” I say, pulling her back to the equipment room.
Her eyes go wide. “There’s so much stuff in here.” She reaches out to touch some gear. “What is this used for?”
I don’t answer her question and she doesn’t ask another because my lips collide with hers. I devour her mouth like I’ll never get to kiss her again. I pull her tightly against me and then lift her up and pin her against the wall. Her legs wrap around me and the friction on my pants makes me hard.
“Shit, Ivy. I’ve missed this.”
She moans into my mouth when I kiss her again. Her hips undulate into me, making me crazy for her. I put a hand over her T-shirt and caress her left breast while I suck on a spot on her neck.
“Oh, God,” she whispers to the ceiling.
Then we hear the alarm. I go still and listen. It’s for both Engine and Squad. “I have to go,” I say, putting her down and pulling her to the door. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Go,” she says. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
I run to the truck and pull on my turnout gear, all too aware of the full-on erection that I’m hoping goes down quickly. “Tomorrow,” I say, as I hop in the back of the rig. Then I watch her watch me until the truck is out of sight.
J.D. and Auggie stare at me. Even Duck takes his eyes off the road and gives me a look.
“What?” I bite at them.
J.D. shakes his head at me. “You might want to wipe the lipstick off your face before we get to the call. Someone might mistake it for blood and leave you for dead.”
“Shit,” I say, wiping my mouth on the sleeve of my coat as they all share a laugh.
~ ~ ~
“So what do you guys do all day when you aren’t fighting fires?” Holly asks, as the waitress brings our first round of drinks.
“Well, first of all, fighting fires is actually a very small part of the job,” Justin tells her. “We deal with a lot of other shit, too.”
“Yeah, but you can’t be out on calls all the time, can you?” she asks.
“We’re not,” he says. “But there’s still plenty to do. We check the equipment on the trucks, we clean, we test fire hoses, do building walk-throughs. And we work out a lot.”
Holly puts her hand on Justin’s bicep. “Yeah, I can tell.”
Ivy rolls her eyes at her older sister. “So, what’s the difference between the two trucks you work on?” she asks.
“Squad and Engine both go on a lot of the calls, and we both fight fires, but Squad is equipped to perform heavy extrications, entrapments, and forcible entries. They have to go through more specialized training than engine companies do. And our lieutenant, Brett Cash, even has hazmat training.”
“Impressive,” Holly says.
“Brett has pretty much gone through all the training available to firefighters. He lost his mom in 9/11 and vowed to help as many people as possible.”
“Oh, gosh. That’s horrible,” Ivy says.
“It’s not unusual to have at least one person in every house who lost someone that day,” I tell her.
The waitress brings our dinner and we eat as Holly continues to ask questions about what we do, batting her lashes at Justin the entire time. I wonder if I should tell her she doesn’t need to try and impress him. She’s got boobs and a nice ass—the only two requirements in his book.
All through dinner, Ivy and I tease each other under the table. She’s wearing a dress she bought in Hawaii. I should know, I’ve already peeled it off her once before. I plan to do it again in about an hour. Less if we eat faster.
I run my hand along her thigh, feeling her shiver through the thin fabric. When I just about reach her panty area, she clears her throat and shifts in her chair. Then she grabs the table, nearly toppling over our drinks.
“You okay, Ivy?” Holly asks.
“Hmmm? Oh … uh, I’m good.” She bites her lip as I give her leg a squeeze.
Then she picks up my hand and puts it back on my leg, but she doesn’t remove her hand. And I find she can give as good as she gets. Her fingers lightly graze the fly of my pants as I try to hold a conversation with Justin. But talking with a co-worker is not exactly what I want to do with the rising problem in my lap.
I turn my attention to Ivy, pushing her hair behind her ear as I lean in close. “I can’t wait to get you alone.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” she says.
“Stay with me tonight, Ivy Greene,” I whisper. “I’ve missed waking up next to you.”
She gives me a half-smile and then looks to see if Holly and Justin are listening. They aren’t. They seem perfectly happy ogling each other over their glasses of wine.
“I go back to work tomorrow for the first time in a long time. Everything’s finally falling into place. I’m starting to feel, I don’t know … normal again. I have you to thank for that. So I’ll come back to your place. Of course I will. But I’ll be going home by midnight. I hope you’re not mad about that.”
I rub my finger across the bare skin of her back. “I’m not mad about that. I couldn’t be happier that you are getting back to normal.” I look at the time on my phone. “It’s not quite nine o’clock. That means we have three hours before you turn into a pumpkin. We can do a lot in three hours.”
Her face lights up and she squirms in her seat.
“Justin and I were thinking of heading to a club,” Holly says. “I was going to invite you, but with all the eye-fucking going on over there, I
’m guessing you’ll pass?”
“Do you have to be so crude, Hol?” Ivy says.
“Well, what would you call it when the two of you can’t keep your hands off each other? I mean, based on the look on your face a minute ago, I wouldn’t be surprised if you went all Fifty Shades and took off your panties right here at the table.”
“Holly!”
The three of us laugh while Ivy blushes.
“I think we’ll skip the club,” I say. “Ivy and I have other plans.”
We pay the check and say goodbye to Holly and Justin. I hail a cab and open the door to let Ivy inside. I scoot in next to her. Then I lean close. “You’re mine for the next three hours.”
“Just for the next three hours?” she asks.
I take her hand in mine. “No. For the next three hours and seventy years if I have anything to say about it.”
The smile that lights up her face lets me know so much more than any of her words. It lets me know just how much she’s healed. And for the first time since I met Ivy Greene four weeks and two days ago, I breathe easily.
Chapter Twenty-four
Ivy
I look at myself in the mirror, thinking I look kind of green. I’m not sure why I woke up feeling so crappy. Last night was incredible. It was even better than Hawaii. It was better because I think we both knew last night was only the beginning. Maybe the reason I look like death warmed over is because today will be my first day back at work.
I know Dahlia will be everywhere. At the table in the corner that I had set up with arts and crafts. At the counter, charming customers. In the back, putting together flower arrangements with Aunt Holly and me.
I walk back into my bedroom and sit on my bed, pulling Dahlia’s blanket into my lap. I page through the scrapbook of her drawings. Did she always make this many pictures of daisies? I don’t even remember some of them. Then again, they were her favorites, so maybe I was just blocking it out—my subconscious’ way of protecting me.
I think about how in Hawaii, daisies seemed to be everywhere. I trace the outline of one of her creations, remembering her.
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