Speaking of time, Riley looked at the clock. “Oh, shoot. I’m late for work. I gotta go.” She dashed out the back door.
She was at full run when she pushed through the diner door to find Meg leaning against the counter.
“You’re late.” She grabbed a pack of cigarettes from under the counter. She turned but dropped her lighter.
Riley rushed over and picked it up. It was white with a fifties pin-up girl on the front. “Sorry. I was helping Katie.” She handed the lighter to Meg.
“Maybe you should help yourself first. You could use all the help you can get.” She spun on her heel and walked through the swinging doors, no doubt heading outside for a smoke.
Aunt Maisey came through the doors looking a bit disheveled. Her hair was mussed, and her lipstick was smeared. She looked back over her shoulder. “Did you twist her knickers again?”
Riley took her freshly laundered apron from her bag and tied it around her waist. She popped her head inside the door and tossed her purse on the nearby table.
“She hates me. I don’t know what I did.” She looked around the mostly empty diner. “That’s not true. Today, I know.” She pointed to the clock. “I’m late.”
“Late night with Luke?” Her aunt's voice sounded hopeful.
“No, that’s not why.” She shook her head, hoping to settle her brain cells in place. “I did have a date with Luke, but I was late because Katie needed help with a box.”
“That’s fine, sweetheart. Meg will get over it.” Maisey grabbed the pot of coffee. “I’ll make the rounds and meet you in the corner booth.”
She couldn’t let her aunt deliver coffee looking like she’d been kissed good and hard.
“Wait up.” Riley took a napkin and cleaned off the orange color that bled past her lips. “How much is Uncle Ben wearing?”
Maisey leaned over to look at her reflection in the shiny new toaster. An addition since Riley had managed to start two toaster fires since her first day. She was certain she wasn’t responsible, but she couldn’t prove otherwise. After the alarm incident at the studio, she’d gained the nickname 'Cinder,' which was fitting, but not when it came to flames.
“That man.” Her tone was serious, but her face had a smile that could light up the room. “I love that man.” She pointed to the booth in the corner. “You take a seat. I’ll bring the coffee.”
Riley did as she was told and took a seat in the booth. She watched her aunt make small talk with Doc and Agatha before she moved on to the tourist who sat by the window.
When Maisey approached her, Riley turned over two mugs. “Am I in trouble?”
Her aunt reached for the sugar jar and tipped it over. It appeared she liked a little coffee with her sugar. She knew a sexy fireman who took his coffee exactly the same.
“No, you are not in trouble.” She stirred the coffee.
Riley was certain the spoon could stand on its own with so much sweet sludge at the bottom.
“It’s Meg, right?”
“Does something have to be wrong for me to want to sit with you?”
“Umm...” Her head nodded. “In my experience, ‘have a seat’ means you’re getting canned or verbally caned.”
Maisey laughed. “Nope, no cans or canes. Although I wanted to ask how you’re doing.” She lifted her brows. If she’d had her shellacked bouffant, her hair would have shifted with them, but her sleek bob stayed stylishly in place.
“I’m good. I like it here. It’s a huge change for me.” The biggest change was she truly felt like she was coming into herself. She could be the free spirit her cells screamed to be and not be chastised.
“Yes, I bet it is.” She sipped her coffee and grimaced. After another helping of sugar, she said, “Meg doesn’t think you’re cut out to waitress.”
“So, it is a caning.” It took everything in Riley not to curl up like those hard-shelled pill bugs.
“No, I think you’re doing a great job. I’ve not heard one complaint. My intention is to simply ask if you’re happy.”
How she felt wasn’t something she’d considered before she came to Aspen Cove. She wasn’t entitled to express her feelings, but here, she’d found out what happy truly meant. Happiness came in sweet goodnight kisses at her door. Tender hands that rubbed her back when Luke hugged her. It was a shoulder broad enough to support the world. An erector set that sat on her coffee table. A town that seemed to have accepted her despite the fact they thought she was a fire hazard.
“I am happy. While Meg isn’t happy with me, I like what I’m doing. I like the town and its people. Besides, the tips keep me in macaroni and cheese and microwave popcorn.”
“Just checking, because if you’re not, we can find you another job. Ben and Dalton could always use a hand cooking.”
Riley considered having to cook things she refused to eat. “I’ll pass on the cooking unless there’s an animal-free zone.”
“Nope, we bake ‘em, poach ‘em, grill ‘em and fry ‘em. I’m surprised you can serve what we cook.”
“It’s not that I’m against other people eating animals. I’ve eaten a few burgers in my days. I don’t enjoy the experience.”
Maisey craned her neck to make sure her customers were doing okay. “Does it have anything to do with Kathy telling you that you had an ass as big as a water buffalo?”
“You remember that? I was eight. She put me on a diet. I weighed sixty-seven pounds then.”
“I don’t like to talk poorly of the dead,” Maisey said.
Riley squinted her eyes and tilted her head. “She’s not dead.”
“She is to me.” She stood and patted Riley’s head. “You’re perfect the way you are. All ninety-seven pounds of you.”
“One hundred and thirty-two pounds,” she threw back.
“Go eat some fries.” Maisey picked up the coffee pot. “You and Meg play nice, now. See you tomorrow.” She walked through the swinging doors, leaving Riley alone with Meg.
A family of four walked through the door. “Evening, all,” Meg said in her saccharine voice. She led them to her station, sat them at a booth and walked away. “Be a dear and take their order for me, will you? I need to run down to the corner store and get some cigarettes.”
That’s how the rest of the day went. Meg found a reason to disappear when work arrived and managed to show up to pocket the tips.
Riley could have been angry, but there was a positive side to a disappearing Meg—nothing caught fire today.
Chapter Eighteen
“Can you hold the puppy lower so we can get a good look at your stomach muscles?” Poppy moved her light and stood over him before she took the shot.
Luke lay on his back, his pants pushed low on his hips, his yellow coat wide open to reveal his bare chest while a fluffy ball of white fur scampered up to lick his face. He laughed as the puppy tucked under his chin to take a rest.
“Oh my God, I couldn’t stage that any better. Hold still.” The shutter of her camera ticked in rapid succession. “Stay there. You’re Mr. February, so we need more.” She dashed away.
Luke brought his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. Thoughts of Riley rushed through his mind. They’d seen each other every night. Dinner, walks, kisses, lots of feels, but each night ended with him walking her home and kissing her on her doorstep.
Something told him she’d never been cherished or valued. It seemed as if she’d been used and taken for granted her whole life. He refused to be another person who would hurt her.
“Don’t open your eyes. This shot is perfect.”
He stayed still while something dropped onto his stomach. Softness and prickliness touched his skin at the same time. “Is that a rose?”
“Good nose,” she said.
“No, I feel the thorns.” It was a good thing, because he could focus on the sharp edge of the thorns rather than his hard-on. He had his gear on, which would hide his burgeoning desire. He’d had at least a half-dozen ice cold showers since he met Riley.
He opened his eyes.
“Don’t move.”
“If you don’t want me to move, then stop asking me questions.” The puppy shifted and rolled from under his chin to the ground. Then snuggled up to his side.
Poppy had been taking pictures all over the firehouse. His shoot was in the garage in front of a locker, where all their turnout gear was stored. His team would have loved to stand in the background and wisecrack, but Poppy had kicked everyone out.
“I’m a girl. I need information.”
Luke shifted on his side and pulled the puppy close to his chest. “It’s going well. I like her. I think she likes me. We’ll see.” He leaned down to kiss the top of the dog's head.
“Hold that.” Again, the clicks sounded in rapid succession. “That’s the one. It’s perfect.”
“Where did this guy come from?”
“Charlie borrowed some pups from the humane society in Copper Creek. We’re giving them a cut of the profits. Why? Do you want him?”
“I’d take them all, but I can’t have a puppy right now. I’m still trying to figure out how to manage a girlfriend.”
Poppy let her camera drop to her chest. “Riley’s your girlfriend? That’s a lot more than dating. Girlfriend implies exclusivity and commitment.”
Luke sat up, transferring the pup to his lap. His big hands gently petted the animal. One of his palms almost covered the tiny thing.
“We haven’t talked about it, but I’m not seeing anyone else. She’s not seeing anyone else. She’s a girl and my friend. Girlfriend fits perfectly.”
Poppy smiled. “I like her. You chose well. So much better than Meg.”
“I’ve never dated Meg.”
“Not because she didn’t want to date you. That girl's been on you like lint on tape since you came to town.”
“Not interested, but I think she could teach your brother Basil a thing or two.”
Poppy gasped. “Don’t even think about it. She'd chew my brother up and spit him out.”
Luke lifted his brows. “Not a bad way for a man to go.” He snuggled the puppy once more, then handed him back to her. “Take care of this guy.” He lifted the puppy up and looked more closely. “I mean girl.”
“Will do. We have Thomas tomorrow, then we’re fini—”
An alarm sounded, and Luke pushed to his feet. Thomas came in with a smile on his face. He tossed Luke his T-shirt.
“It’s zone eight at the GCC. Your girl is up to no good.” He started toward the gear locker.
“I got this. If I need you, I’ll call.” Without changing, Luke tucked the T-shirt Thomas had thrown him into his back pocket and walked outside.
He climbed into his personal vehicle and headed towards trouble packaged as a blonde. When he arrived, he saw her kneeling down before the metal frame she was welding, the bright light almost blinding to the naked eyes.
She’d attached the guitar to wheels so it could move easily.
Focused on her work, she didn’t see him reach inside the door and turn on the exhaust fan. The beeping that would no doubt turn into a screeching wail went silent. With his shoulder against the door frame and her body shielding the bright light of the arc, he watched her in awe. She was fearless when it came to heat and metal. He thought about how far she’d come since she’d arrived. Too bad she couldn’t manipulate Meg like she did steel.
He cleared his throat loudly as he walked forward. She turned her head and stopped. Seconds later, she killed the flame and stood, taking off her protective mask.
“Oh my God, I did it again.”
“Yes, you did.” He moved forward so they were inches apart, both in fire protective gear, only his was open to reveal a bared chest.
She gave him a hungry look, then glanced behind him. “Is everyone else here, too?”
He shook his head. “Nope, just me.”
She set the gun down and removed her gloves. Her hands roamed up his stomach to touch his chest. It wasn’t the first time she’d had her hands on his bare skin, but somehow this was far more intimate than the rest. Maybe it was the look in her eyes. The way she chewed the inside of her cheek. Her hair all sweaty and mussed, like they’d already been in bed for hours.
He shifted to give his rise room to adjust.
“You always answer calls half-naked?” Her thumbs brushed over his nipples, causing him to hiss. He was sure there was a direct line between them and his aching length.
“Only when the call is to my forgetful girlfriend.”
Her smile was so big and bright he swore it rivaled the brilliance of her welding flame.
“Your girlfriend?”
“You have a problem with that?”
“No, I like it.” She ran her lips softly across his chest, kissing him until she reached his neck. “You like this?”
He threaded his hands through her hair and kissed her. He didn’t need to tell her how much he liked it; he’d show her.
His body pressed against hers, backing her up until she was flat against the wall, with nowhere to escape.
She tugged at his jacket until it dipped off his shoulders. When he dropped his arms, it fell to the floor, leaving him nude from the waist up.
“Your turn,” he said. He yanked the zipper of her overalls down and tugged until the brown material hung around her waist. He’d caressed her skin and cupped her breasts, but he hadn’t seen her naked.
“You want to do this here?” She looked around the studio. The blinds were still pulled, but the door was open.
“Sweetheart, I want to do this everywhere with you. We can start here.”
“Close the door and lock it.”
He didn’t need any more coaxing. He had the room locked down in seconds.
They met at the quilted moving blanket, where Riley shrugged out of the overalls, leaving her in jeans and a T-shirt.
Luke sent a quick text to Thomas, telling him all was fine, but he’d be gone the rest of the night.
When he looked at Riley, he saw fear in her eyes.
“You okay?” He dropped to his knees and pulled her close to him. “We don’t have to do this today, or here.”
She shook her head. “It’s not that. I want you. I want this.” She lowered her head. “More than anything. It’s just that…I’m damaged.”
He didn’t know what she was referring to. “What do you mean?”
She scraped her bottom lip with her teeth. “Promise me you won’t turn and run.”
He cupped her face. “Nothing will make me run from you, Riley. Nothing.” That might not have been the truth. If she dropped her pants and was sporting the same equipment as him, it would give him pause.
While he had lots of friends whose taste went in many directions, he preferred the lush curves of a woman. The soft, wet glove of her body hugging his length.
She gripped the edge of her T-shirt.
He’d been in many precarious situations in his life. He’d faced walls of flame and imminent death, and never had his heart beat so wildly.
“Tell me what you’re afraid of, sweetheart.”
“I’ll show you.” She lifted her shirt to reveal soft, milky white skin. It rose to show a white, lacy bra cradling perfect breasts. She cleared her head and tossed the shirt aside.
“You’re perfect.” He reached forward to cup her breasts, but she shook her head, stopping him midway.
“I’m not. The other day, you said you saw me. I need you to see me.” She reached behind her and unhooked her bra. The material fell free, and in front of him the most beautiful set of breasts swayed back and forth.
“Riley, if this is damaged, I want you to be a wreck always. You’re so damn beautiful, I can hardly breathe.”
She held up a finger. “Wait.” She turned around and showed her back.
He held in the gasp rising from his throat. Sitting on his heels, he rose to his knees to close t
he distance and reached out to touch the scars that marred her perfect skin.
Her muscles flexed under his touch. “How?”
“My first lesson in safety. You think I’m not focused on safety. I might forget to turn the exhaust on, but I’ll never let what happened to me happen to anyone else.”
She told him about the accident and how her stepmother told her no one would want her because she was ruined.
Luke sat down and pulled her into his lap. One hand cradled her scarred back while the other cupped her cheek. He thumbed the tear that slipped from her eyes.
“This doesn’t matter to me. In fact, it makes you all the more beautiful because you're strong.” He moved his fingers over the grid-like scar. It was almost a perfect three-by-three. “I can’t imagine what that felt like. I work with fire, but I’ve never truly been burned.”
“Not fun at all. Sometimes it still hurts. In the winter, my skin gets dry and tight and the pain ghosts back into my life. What hurts worse is the pain of her words. She hated me.”
He laid her down and looked at her beauty. It wasn’t only on the outside. Her loveliness ran marrow deep.
“You know, I’m falling deep and fast for you.” He tugged at his uniform pants until they were stuck at his ankles. After kicking off his boots, he was able to slide out of them.
Her eyes fell to the swell of his erection pressing against the denim of his jeans. “Looks like you haven’t changed your mind.”
“I told you I wasn’t the type to run away, but the type to run to. I’m here, Riley, and I want you. All of you, from your beautiful smile to the laces of your tennis shoes.” He moved over her, his chest as bare as hers. Both were clothed from the waist down. “We can wait. Make it special. You know, candles and flowers and some fancy vegetarian fare.”
She tugged at the button of his pants. “Or…we can make it real. This is who we are. I’m an artist. You’re a fireman. Let’s see what we can create together.”
Chapter Nineteen
Under the bright lights of the studio, they tugged at each other’s pants until they laid themselves bare for each other.
One Hundred Ways: An Aspen Cove Romance Page 11
