by Faria, Cyndi
With his ear pressed against her neck, he listened to the steady rhythm of her heart and imagined a similar beat beachside on the white sands of Bassin d'Arcachon, the sea teasing him to enter her harbor with each successive wave. Maggie’s pulse, the ebb and flow of her swaying hips encouraged him to place a hand there. He held her upturned gaze, loving in a way he’d only imagined she regarded him, and stroked a slow hand across her cheek. “I love you, Mags.”
On tippy toes, she kissed him hard, her open mouth and fingers working his neck muscles and tense shoulders from a solid to a liquid.
The shower spray fogged the mirrors—either that, or steam wafted off them given the way she slinked her calf around his thigh. His lids lowered and he held her sexy gaze.
She stepped inside the shower, the steamy spray turning her blonde hair dark and spilling down flesh that embodied all he’d ever wanted in a woman. She reached out for him to join her, hands shaking in evidence of how much she wanted him. “I don’t want anything to change between us. Not in a bad way.”
At the swift pain in his heart, he stepped inside, his gaze darting to the open glass door that would soon close them inside a new world. He shouldn’t promise what he couldn’t control, but damn if he had the power to stop the rush from overtaking them both. “We won’t let anything come between us.”
A long stroke of her palm glided down his cheek and rested on his chest, and she melded her body against his. Inside the cramped space, her palms worked the lavender suds across his chest and shoulders.
His gaze feasted on the angel that was Maggie and his mind traveled to a new dimension. When she rolled her finger over her bottom lip, he kissed her there.
“We don’t have to take this any farther.”
Heated further by the water spray, nothing he wanted more than to be as one with her. Agreeing would cost him that honor, but he nodded. “I know.”
She sighed and held his gaze. Her palm trailed down his chest and paused to rest at his hip before sliding lower. “Let’s take this slow…”
Like a zephyr, her soft voice calmed his raging heart until he slid the shower door closed. “That’s exactly what I plan to do.”
“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it
living someone else’s life.”
–Steve Jobs
Chapter Three
With Garrett’s phone buzzing followed by a soft click, Maggie woke to a body infused with tingles and sensation that took away her breath. Stretching, she threaded her hand through sheets warmed by his body, but found his side of the bed empty.
Her breath hitched and she pulled the blankets chest high. What had she expected? Duty called. That click had been him closing the front door. He’d left.
Or had he bolted from her side because she hadn’t echoed the words of love he’d spoken? Had he doubted her feelings for him? Feelings that, in the night, had blossomed into romantic love? Now she regretted not telling him she too had fallen in love. Only, saying those words, when she’d never recited them to another man, carried a weight she had yet to balance. What if he rejected her, like he’d broken off from Emily? What could she do? Hold the man prisoner with her Egyptian cotton sheets and expel her sentiments?
She braced a hand against the pillow to sit. All night, he’d taken the time to learn her body’s needs, responding to her subtle sighs and movements with the same passion with which he’d embraced the tango, not releasing her from his tender embrace until together, they’d mastered their performance. Yet, he’d left her for work? His decision shouldn’t have surprised her, but somehow it did.
But wait…
She heard a muffled voice behind the closed bathroom door and realized he hadn’t left after all. He sounded like he was talking on the phone. But to whom?
The bathroom door opened and he walked out, almost fully dressed, stabbing his belt through the remaining loop. With jerky movements, he laced up his boots. “Sorry, I woke you.”
Was he intending to return to firefighting with vigor? “You’re leaving.”
“Yes. I’m on call.”
“Will I see you today at the studio?”
Outside, the roar of an engine pulled to the curb. He glanced at the headlights beaming through the window, the glare reflecting off his dedicated gaze. He bent down, but his flat lips against her cheek didn’t linger. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
No. Stay. “Be careful.”
As the door closed, leaving in his place a spicy scent, she wondered if duty would rob her of the man she loved, as duty had claimed her father. When her throat swelled and forced tears from her eyes, she twisted the sheets in her hand and clutched the memory of Garrett’s body against hers—all the wonders that he’d lavished on her senses in the past six hours, but the differences in their future overshadowed joy.
Imagining losing Garrett, she let her thoughts retreat to the safety of fantasy where he always returned to her arms unharmed, so she could hold and love him. She’d given her heart to him, she realized, not for a few hours but forever. An unbreakable bond that would nonetheless be jeopardized unless one of them sacrificed their dreams.
As if icy sheets blanketed her body instead of goose down, she shuddered. Had he felt a chill ripple through the night? Had he used his job as an excuse to flee the confines of her embrace, of lost dreams, of regret?
Because love came with a price.
She flipped on the light, pulled on her tights and a baggy sweatshirt, strapped on her dancing shoes, and stumbled out the front door. Inside her mother’s house, she tiptoed toward the converted studio in the garage. Two hours later, sweaty and exhausted, she fell asleep on the pile of padded mats, pretending the cushion snug against her back was the man worth sacrificing her dreams for.
# # # #
Standing at the sharp edge of the ravine that plummeted into the night, Garrett gripped the rope he would use to rappel from the highway shoulder. Somehow, the vehicle had landed on its roof with the victim wedged underneath.
Mitchell’s glare held his. “You’re the only one narrow enough to reach under the car and set the victim free. The other men secured the car, but extricating the victim by cutting open the car won’t work. The medics have assessed her injuries and, together with her description, they’re nothing more than scrapes and bruises.”
“Who’s my back up?”
“I’m right behind you. But now’s your chance, Cadet, to be that man Dad would be proud of.”
A coldness struck Garrett’s chest that had nothing to do with the night air, and everything to do with letting down his father. Letting down Maggie, as well.
He’d been pissed with himself for ignoring his brother’s call on the first ring—played with the idea of walking away from firefighting and never leaving Maggie’s bed. Leaving her naked, with that look of concern, he knew she’d be afraid he’d die just like her father, and he regretted bringing back that memory .
“Cadet, you doing this? ‘Cause if not—”
The hiss of the rope peeled from Garrett’s hand and he swung so his back faced the ravine. Where his uniform was khaki compared to the other’s blue, he would never be recognized as more than a cadet if he didn’t honor his father’s last wish. But somehow, returning to Maggie and hearing the three words recited from her breath seemed more important. Garrett pushed off the rough shoulder and descended into the ravine. The line reeled from his gloved hands. In a crackle of snapped twigs, his feet struck the leaf-strewn earth until he was level with the vehicle.
His brother trailed by six feet and then swung to the opposite side of the car, where the driver’s side hugged a thick Sugar Pine, and made getting out the victim impossible. Catching his breath, Mitchell shined a light into Garrett’s eyes. “I’m asking too much from you.” He scrunched his brows and shifted his helmet. “The extraction is too dangerous—”
Garrett took a deep breath and slipped under the car. The window and roof squeezed against his spine, and his internal clock switched to th
e “on” position, the countdown until his body would explode into a panicked mass.
“Help me...” A woman’s hand brushed his arm.
His heart dropped and settled low in his gut. He was only a cadet. Not a real firefighter. Not even with his brother piercing his ears with orders to remain calm and with procedure on how to extricate the victim. He wasn’t a real dancer either, but a guy who rebuilt old trucks into something of value—a glorified mechanic.
“Garrett?”
He heard a familiar lifting voice and his gut tangled tighter. “Ms. Aubrey?”
“Oh, I’m so glad it’s you... you’re just like your brother and father. Strong, and compassionate. Willing to put others first. Your father would be so proud, if he saw you dancing and having fun today with your friend, Maggie.”
Friend? Was she only a friend when he felt so much more? Though he wanted to declare her girlfriend status, could he without Maggie’s consent, and when she had yet to express her feelings? And with her intent to leave town, what did the name he called her really matter in the end? She’d still be gone. “I’m getting you out.”
Ms. Aubrey dangled upside down by the twisted seatbelt. She palmed the roof and, with her other hand, clutched the belt that lay against her shoulder. “Yes, you two are beautiful together. Your father wanted to see his children fulfilled. To travel wherever life led them. I wish I hadn’t traveled off the darn roadway.” She chuckled. “Dang deer... but you’re here. Now, let’s be quick. Get me out.” She thrust her hands in Garrett’s direction.
He reached into the cab, unwilling to let her words arrest his focus and influence him now. He held her hands, giving each a squeeze.
The car rocked and his feet dangled in midair. “Listen, I’m coming inside to unhook your seatbelt. The car is secured, but it may tip—nothing but rock and roll.”
She squirmed and the car teetered. “I never liked rock and roll.”
Garrett’s lips pulled up into a little grin. “I want you to look right here.” He pointed to his eyes. “Everything will work out. First, I’ll release you and catch you, then pull you into my arms. Is that okay?”
“I believe in you.”
“On the count of three…”
With only a single slice of the nylon strap, she fell into his arms. He pulled her from the wreckage. The medics had rappelled to the car, and Garrett handed her over, so they secured her onto the body board.
Mitchell smiled their father’s smile and slung an arm around Garrett’s shoulders. “I’m proud of you. I’m rescheduling the confined space training test for Saturday at five o’clock.”
Garrett’s shoulders knotted and he shrugged off his brother’s arm. That was the same time as the dance competition—thirty-six hours from now. Something he’d promised he wouldn’t miss. “Why move the test forward?”
Mitchell gripped the rope to scale the steep slope. “You’ve been working hard and, after the rescue I just witnessed, you’re ready.”
“Can’t happen. One, I’m in the pageant dance competition with Maggie. Two, the latch is broke.”
They were halfway to the top when Mitchell paused, the tension on both of their ropes as taut as the stare they shared. “Maggie has dreams of her own. Surely, she’ll understand your predicament. But the Mayor has demanded the station be fully staffed. I can’t hold back any longer. Soon as I have the latch repaired, I’ll be calling on you.”
The pressure on his chest might as well have been his entire ancestry’s disappointment combined. And damn if he needed more pressure from his brother. He had been serious until Maggie showed him another side to life, looking through her lens at a world he could see himself exploring, learning right along beside her.
But firefighting was Garrett’s lot. Forty-five minutes and his future in Safe Haven would be set. He couldn’t let down his father. An image formed of Dane kissing Maggie, and though Garrett hated the choice he had to make, for two hours, Maggie could dance with another willing partner. “I’ll be ready.”
# # # #
Maggie rested knuckles on her hips and massaged her lips to keep from crying. She’d arrived at the studio to practice for the last time with Garrett, but her dance bag seemed to have walked away. Then, her pageant coach informed her the dress they’d ordered wouldn’t arrive until Monday—two days after the performance. How much worse could the day possibly get?
She glanced around the practice space—wooden floors, mirrored walls, and large window near the door where some of the other contestants talked among themselves. Why would anyone steal her leggings and shoes? Then again, the thief had probably just wanted her cell phone.
She smiled through the irritation. Good thing, she’d put on her practice clothing prior to heading to the studio.
Ms. Aubrey prided herself on being punctual, only the clock read ten after nine.
The door opened and Dane entered. He immediately sought out Emily.
Maggie’s heart fluttered, but in a way more associated with dread than excitement. She scowled. What was he doing here, talking with Emily as though they were more than friends?
He glanced her way and stalked over. His hazel eyes had turned brown rather than their normal green, and were filled with something other than desire. The serious stare reminded her of the way the officers who’d announced her father’s death had stared.
Her heart lurched into her throat and she clutched her neck. “Is Garrett all right?”
His shoulders rounded, and he reached out to squeeze her arm. “Yes, saw him at the station a few minutes ago. In fact, he’s quite the hero, and that’s why I’m here.”
A cold draft of fear raced down her neck and she stiffened. “What’s wrong? Tell me.”
“Ms. Aubrey was in an accident last night. She’ll be all right, but I’m stepping in as instructor.”
Bypassing Dane’s body, she peeked around his broad chest and sought out Garrett, expecting him to arrive anytime. The other contestants had formed their own groups along the parking lot windows, but Garrett had yet to arrive.
Dane offered her his arm. “Well, shall we get started?”
Without Garrett and not wanting to make the situation worse, she took Dane’s arm and followed him into the studio. Two hours later, she was cheek-to-cheek and chest-to-chest with Dane, and her legs were split over Dane’s thick thigh. Her stomach rumbled like a nauseous brew.
Where was Garrett?
Another hour passed, and as the song climaxed, Dane dipped her backwards and pressed his lips against hers in a never-ending kiss she couldn’t break.
That’s when she spotted Garrett outside the window. Frozen. Glaring. Gaping.
Bent over Dane’s arm, she felt the blood drain from her head as Garrett spun. Maggie twisted in Dane’s hold and her head popped him in the chin, making his teeth clank. She stared hard, blinked, then hurled her open hand until her palm landed solidly on his cheek. “I love Garrett!” She ignored the surrounding gasps and whispers. Ignored the fuzzy blackness and little white dots that numbed her on the inside. She stabbed her index finger in the air. “You knew he was standing there. Knew he’d see.”
Dane shook his head and stepped back with his hands raised in surrender. “No. I didn’t. I swear... I’m sorry—”
Maggie hurried to the door. She had to explain...
Garrett drove out of the parking lot, his taillights never flashing red, unlike her heated face.
# # # #
Garrett drove to the fairgrounds and after a ten minute walk through the livestock area, over the footbridge spanning the Cosumnes, he hunkered down in the beer gardens. Still clenching and releasing his fists, his mind punished him for being such a fool and reacting to Maggie in Dane’s arms when his mind knew damn well she wasn’t into the guy. But his heart... the way anger had punched into his chest... No way would he cause a scene and ruin her chance of winning the competition. Dane would be a far better partner. That fact had been obvious.
The bartender slid a cold brew towa
rd Garrett, one he didn’t plan on drinking, but such was the cost of the stool. At the top of his red plastic cup, foam boiled over and bubbled down the side.
“Hey, mind if I sit?” Emily took the empty seat beside him.
He slid his gaze toward her, dressed in a black dress that hugged familiar curves he no longer ached to touch. “You want a drink?”
She leaned in close. “No, thanks. Thought you looked like you needed some cheering up.”
He then flicked a few fingers in a lazy brush off. “I’m fine.”
Her knee brushed his and slid along the outside of his thigh. “Saw the entire thing at the studio. I was going to tell you, but then you showed up. They’d been dancing for hours and,” she tapped her chest, “even I was uncomfortable.”
Swiveling to face her, he widened his eyes and encouraged her to go on, knowing by her delicate eye roll she took pleasure in her tale.
“Seems every time Dane took a break, Maggie followed him. I even saw them in the dressing room together.” Emily flipped hair the color of her dress behind her shoulder and brushed his thigh with her hand.
At her words, tension, arctic and stiff and acidic, gripped his entire being. He pressed his chin to chest, leaned in, and gripped her arm. He didn’t believe a word she’d said. If anything, Maggie would tolerate more than she should in order to avoid making waves. Unlike Emily, however, Maggie wasn’t a first-date-sure-thing kind of girl, but more akin to Mrs. Deter’s porch planks. Maggie believed some fruits were worth waiting to be picked by cherished hands that remarkably had been his last night. “Emily, you called me friend. So turn around and walk away. Right now.”
Leaning her chest against his, she squeezed out the shadow between them. “Why? Going to be just you and me in this town when Maggie’s long gone. How about some fun... for old time’s sake?”
“Garrett?”
At Maggie’s voice, he lifted his head, his eyes as wide as his mouth that hovered above Emily’s dangling ruby earring. He eased Emily back and slid off the seat, his pant leg getting stuck on the stool and tripping him up. “Maggie.”
