Blaze (The Firefighters of Darling Bay Book 1)

by Rachael Herron

  “I’ve heard of it.”

  “Shoot.” He let out a low whistle, which she thought was related to his thinking about the Svadhistana until she noticed his eyes weren’t on the magazine anymore. Instead, he appeared intently focused on the way her yellow silk robe parted when she leaned to hand him his cup.

  “So,” she said briskly. “Do you have to work today?”

  “Nope. I’m on my four-day.”

  Well, so much for that method of getting him out of her house. She did have to get him out, right? She couldn’t let him stay. No. She couldn’t. For a moment, though, she couldn’t remember why not. The X-rated images that danced in her mind, both of what they did last night and what she still wanted to do to him, made her feel like she should just let the robe slip open a little more.

  So she did. Really, it was an experiment. Grace was kind of required to see if what they’d had last night wasn’t just a product of too much heightened fear and emotion after her sister’s crash.

  So she twisted as she reached for her cup, tugging the clip out of her hair at the same time. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders. When she turned to meet Tox’s gaze, she made sure she twisted back a little too far. The silk of the robe was slippery. It never did stay together the way it was supposed to.

  She bit her lower lip and then wet it with her tongue, never letting go of his gaze.

  Something in his eyes—he reminded her of something, an animal of some sort.

  As he launched himself at her with a roar she realized what it was. He was a huge jungle cat, ready to take down its quarry.

  And he took her down, hard. She was flat on her back on the bed, robe thrown to the floor, condom in his hand and then on, and he was in her, without preamble or discussion. And as he moved in her, so fast, so hard, and his eyes stayed on hers. Mine, his eyes said. Mine, mine, mine.

  She knew her eyes said the same thing back to him.

  She also knew she’d regret it later. She’d probably regret nothing more.

  But now, for this moment, as her fingers dug deeply into his back, moving to match his thrusts, she was his, and he was hers, and nothing had ever felt so right. Ever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The next time Grace got out of bed, she was more determined. The hospital. That was where she had to be.

  She showered, and by the time she finished, Tox was pulling on his shirt. “I gotta go see a man about a dog. Literally. Walk of shame time, I guess.”

  She smiled. “At least you’re not in heels.”

  He stuck out a leg and examined his boot. “What? I could pull that off.”

  Grace had no doubt he could. “I like a man in drag. It’s hot.”

  “I’ve seen some pretty men. I won’t argue with you on that.”

  Grace felt herself fall a little further.

  She put in her silver hoop earrings, the ones Samantha had given her years ago. At one point, she’d wondered if Sam had stolen them. Or bought them with money made in a way that could get a person jailed. Or worse.

  She fingered them gingerly. She loved them, no matter where they came from.

  “You look incredible.”

  Surprised, Grace looked down at herself. “Me?” Her voice felt high and nervous, as if she were speaking while crossing a tightrope. She was only wearing a black t-shirt and jeans with old yellow cowboy boots. Her favorite comfort outfit. “I thought I looked kind of…not that good.”

  “One,” he pulled her back into the wide circle of his arms, “You do look that good. And two, I wasn’t looking at your clothes.”

  He kissed her, and Grace came perilously close to forgetting why she had her keys in her hands.

  “No.” She pulled away with difficulty, ignoring the heat that rose inside her. “I’m going.”

  “I want to see you later,” Tox said.

  “Okay…” The word was easy, but it fell into the space between them awkwardly. “I mean, when Sam is better, and when you’re on your time off again, you go in for a couple of days tomorrow, right? It’s just…”

  “Grace.” He tilted her head up by touching her chin. “We had a good time, right?”

  A good time. Is that what people called it now? Was it that easy for him? “Yeah.”

  “I’m going to call you later.”

  “Okay.”

  He nodded and released her. “Seems like that’s the best I’m going to get out of you, then.”

  “You got the best out of me last night, I think.” She wanted to sound bold and brazen, but instead, she just sounded shy.

  He laughed.

  Grace didn’t like the confusion she felt inside. What was wrong with her? She was scared to see any more of him, in case she really did fall, and at the same time, she hated the thought of not being around him.

  They left the house together. It felt strange to turn and lock the door behind them. Like any other couple on a Wednesday morning. They walked down the steps, their arms brushing. With a salute at the edge of her walkway, Tox grinned as he turned right to head to his truck.

  Walking toward her car, Grace wondered how in the world he could be so casual. Maybe he was that used to leaving the house of a woman in the morning? The thought made her feel faintly ill. But she would ignore it.

  Behind her came fast footfalls. A large hand at her elbow. Tox spun her, pulling her into his arms.

  “You fit here, you know that?”

  Grace’s mouth dropped open.

  “I love the way you fit in my arms. This could be good. It might actually be good.” Then he kissed her once, hard. “I just wanted to make sure I told you that.”

  He let her go. Grace watched him walk away, her fingers on her lips, trying to swallow the smile that just wouldn’t go away.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  After bringing her home from the hospital, Grace gave her sister an hour.

  Then she went in her room. “So.”

  Samantha sighed and flopped backward onto her pillow. “I hope you’re here to bring me more tea.”

  She knew better than that. “Who is he?”

  Sam raised her hands and let them flop onto her stomach. “Just a guy.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Justin.”

  “What does he do?”

  “Why does that always matter so much to you?”

  Grace sat on the edge of the bed, conscious that if she said the wrong thing now she could erase the careful trust that had built between them over the last year. “It matters because it says a lot about a person.”

  “Fine. He doesn’t have a job, as it happens.”

  Drug dealer. Pimp. Gambler. It didn’t help that Grace had accidentally dated all those guys, too. “What does he want to do?”

  “He’s an environmentalist.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  Samantha sighed. “He has money from his parents. I guess, like, a lot of money.”

  That would explain the car at least.

  “He does something with cleaning water.”

  “What?” Grace tried to keep the skepticism from her voice, but found it impossible.

  “Why can’t he just be a guy? A normal guy?”

  “Where did you meet him?”

  Her sister crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t have to tell you.”

  Awesome. Had Samantha fallen off the wagon again? Was she at the bar while Grace was at work? “How’s your drinking doing?”

  Samantha took in a loud breath. “You know what? You always ask me things like that. How’s my drinking? How’s my using? Why not ask the more accurate question. How’s my sobriety going? Today?”

  She was right. Grace softened her voice but kept going. “Your defensiveness makes me worry that I’m going in the right direction.”

  Samantha stood, wincing as she did so. “I’m getting out of here.”

  “Where are you going?” Grace watched as Samantha shoved clothes into a duffel bag. “You can’t just go.”

  Samantha d
idn’t say anything. She just moved into the bathroom and began collecting her toiletries into a plastic case.

  “Come on. Talk to me. I’m only concerned about your well-being.”

  Pausing, a bottle of eye-makeup remover in her hand, Samantha turned to face Grace. “I don’t think you are.”

  Pain knifed through Grace. “Of course I am. I’m never anything but concerned about you.”

  “That’s the whole problem. Your concern isn’t flattering.”

  “But—”

  “I’m not a junkie.”

  “You—”

  “I had a problem with drugs. I was an addict. But I’m not anymore. I’m clean. I’m sober. I’m healthy.”

  “But this guy—”

  “Is none of your business, Grace.”

  It felt like a sucker punch. How many times had Grace heard this from her sister? How many times had Samantha said she was fine, only to call a month later from a bus stop in an inland state, needing fare money home? And then never arriving?

  “You have to tell me at least something. What his last name is. Where he lives. Where you’re going.”

  “I have a place to stay.” Samantha threw an eyelash curler into the bag.

  “With him? Isn’t he still in the hospital?” Grace had tried to check on him in the hospital but the nurses hadn’t let her go inside the ICU. No one but family.

  “Gracie,” Sam said in a soft voice. “You should call that guy.”

  “Who?” Grace tried to keep her face blank.

  “Please. I know why you were late this morning to get me. It was obvious. Call Tox and have a good time.”

  “No. You’re the most important thing in my life.” It was true. It would always be true.

  Samantha said, “But you have to let me make my own mistakes.”

  Not when you’ve already made so many. “Are you in love with him?” She followed Samantha through the living room and out to the porch.

  “Of course I’m not. I just met the guy. But I know where his key is, and he’d already asked me to stay. I talked to him in the hospital and he said I could crash at his place.”

  Grace threw her hands in the air. “Why not? You already crashed with him once.”

  “Oh, come on, Grace.”

  “You can’t do this. You’re better than this.”

  “I know,” said Samantha. “You did an amazing job of teaching me that, okay? But I can’t handle you anymore.”

  “What do you mean?” Grace would agree to anything at all, if Samantha would just stay here, where she could keep an eye on her. Where she could check on her at night. Make sure she was fed. Safe. Healthy. “I’ll back off. I know I can be pushy.”

  “Pushy?” Samantha dropped the bag at her feet and faced her, hands on her hips. “If I make hot chocolate at night, you get up to check whether I’m doing it right.”

  “The two-percent is just better for you.”

  “I like whole. Just like sometimes I stay up too late and I’m tired the next day. Sometimes I eat the whole pint of ice cream. In one sitting.”

  Grace flinched.

  “My body, my rules. How many times have you told me that? I get to make my own decisions, that no man can make them for me?”

  “No man can.” Grace reached out a hand. “Don’t let him.”

  “I won’t. And I’m not going to let you either. It’s my life. Not yours. Mine. You know I love you, Grace, but you need to take care of yourself. And no one else.”

  Samantha went down the steps, turned right, and set off on foot down Taylor Street, toward the water. Grace sank with a thump to the top step of the porch.

  It was a perfectly valid argument.

  That was the hardest part. Her sister was right.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Methyl was terrorizing Station One.

  Even though Tox hadn’t let her out of his sight since he’d arrived to work that morning, she’d already managed to chew up Bonnie Maddern’s right boot, Mazanti’s A’s baseball hat, and a full pack of paper plates, leaving nothing but slobber and rubble. Every time he blinked, every time he thought about waking with Grace yesterday morning in her warm bed…every unfocused moment was a moment Methyl ate something ill-advised.

  Warm smells of garlic bread wafted from the kitchen where Knowland was fixing his famous blue cheese spaghetti plates. On the big screen, the baseball game was only important to Hank.

  “I thought you said she was sickly.” Bonnie held up her boot. “You gonna pay for this?”

  “What? The station dog doesn’t get a free pass or two?”

  “The station dog?” Chief Barger came into the day room carrying a destroyed iPod charger. “When did we get one of those?”

  Tox looked sideways at Bonnie who wasn’t hiding her laughter. “Just for A shift, when I’m here. And I have an extra one of those cords in my locker. I’ll give it to you.”

  “You better. And you better check with HR about having a canine in the house.”

  Methyl chose that moment to race into the day room, make one fast lap around the long table, and then sit comfortably on Chief Barger’s foot.

  “She likes you, Chief. I haven’t seen her do that to anyone else.” He hoped no one told the truth—that Methyl’s favorite place seemed to be on anyone’s shoe. Or under a table, chewing on a shoe.

  Barger bent to scratch her head. “Well, heck. That’s something, isn’t it? Huh.”

  Methyl made a move as if to go to Tox, so he held up his hand. Stay.

  Maybe the mutt knew what was good for her. She tilted up her head so that Barger could better reach her ears.

  “Cute little thing. I suppose…”

  Tox waited, surprised to find he was holding his breath. He needed this dog to stay in the fire house with him when he was at work. He worked forty-eight hour shifts—the dog had to stay with him. And something about this dog just turned him inside out.

  The dog and Grace. They softened him. He wasn’t at all sure if that was a good thing. But it was something important, so much more important than he could have dreamed.

  “Wait.” Chief Barger locked eyes with Tox. “She’s yours?”

  “Yep.”

  Barger laughed. “The Angel of Death has a dog? How long you expect to keep her around?”

  “Ah, quit it.” He would have told anyone else to shut up. “Me and Methyl are gonna go play fetch in the south lot. And none of you are invited.”

  Good-humored laughter followed him through the bay and outside. Tox tried to laugh along with them, but it wasn’t that funny. He didn’t mean to be the guy in whose arms people died. He never asked for that role.

  From the parking lot, the station had a partial view of downtown Darling Bay and a slice of the harbor. The sun was just setting, and when Tox got over his mild irritation at the ribbing of his coworkers, he realized he was enjoying the heck out of this—tossing the tennis ball he’d found with the sports equipment in the storage room, watching Methyl tumble toward it, tripping over her own golden legs. “You’ll get it, girl. You’ll catch on.”

  She was smart, that much was obvious. In the three and half days he’d had her, she was close to getting “sit.” But he’d keep working with her. Even if she wasn’t the brightest flare in the box, she was his. Every second that she wasn’t chewing on something or sitting on people’s feet, she was pressed against him, as if to remind him she was still there.

  Dang it. Tox had fallen for two girls in the space of a week. He’d fallen hard. The image of Grace’s coffee-colored eyes overshadowed the sunset in front of him, and he wondered what she was doing right now. Was she thinking about him? Moving in that little kitchen of hers, cooking something heart-healthy and organic? Soup, maybe, with the smells of oregano and thyme filling the air? Tox tossed the ball and Methyl chased it under the oleander bush with enthusiasm.

  She hadn’t called him back after he’d left her a message yesterday. He hadn’t tried again yet today. Tox had been trying to give her s
ome space, and he’d made it clear the ball was in her court. But god. He wanted to kiss her again.

  The truth was, Tox kind of felt like kissing her every night, which was completely ridiculous. He barely knew her.

  It was like she’d infected him.

  Doggone it, he would call her again tomorrow, on the second day of his tour. Then maybe the next day they could have dinner at his place. No, hers. That way she’d feel comfortable and safe, surrounded by her own things. Home was important to her, he could tell. She needed to control her environment. He could understand that. Would she mind if he came up behind her in the kitchen and nuzzled her neck while she rinsed the knife before asking him to turn on the grill?

  Tox shook his head, watching the dropping sun light the harbor a golden-edged pink. He was going soft in the head over a woman.

  It felt good.

  The tones went off, four of them in a row. Tox snapped his fingers. “Methyl. Come.” He waited, clicking on her leash. If the engine was on the run for this call, he’d leave her here, tied to one of the concrete posts that protected the fuel pumps. He’d already placed a bowl of water and some kibble there, along with a thick wool blanket, in case a call came in. He hoped she didn’t howl when she was left alone, but he didn’t really have a choice. He anchored her safely to the post.

  Sue’s voice, more grating than Lexie’s, came over the loudspeaker. “Engine One. Multiple calls, smoke and flames showing from two windows.” Tox ran for the bay.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Grace was finishing a solo dinner—a baked fillet of cod with too much basmati rice because she had no idea how to cook rice for one—when her phone made a foreign beep.

  It was the fire app Samantha had installed on her phone yesterday, before they’d fought. “So you can hear if your guy goes somewhere,” Samantha had said, showing her how to turn it on.

  “He’s not my guy.” She hadn’t even returned his phone call yet.

  Samantha had shrugged good-naturedly. “Then just to keep you apprised of what goes on in your town.”

  The phone kept beeping. “Structure Fire,” read the pop-up box on her phone. She hit the open button, and suddenly her phone was making noise, voices saying words she didn’t really understand. The map showed that it wasn’t far away. A couple of blocks. Come to think of it, she’d thought she’d smelled something burning in her oven when she was cooking the fish but now that she stuck her nose out the kitchen door, she could smell smoke on the wind.