Rescued By Love: Park City Firefighter Romance
Page 5
Cam eyed her, but complied, pulling the sweatshirt up and over his head. As he did so, his t-shirt caught and rode up with the sweatshirt, revealing a sculpted abdomen and chest that made her mouth go dry. She couldn’t help but notice the scars on his abdomen that looked like they continued around to his back.
Reaching out, she touched the bumpy skin. Cam drew back and tugged his t-shirt into place.
“What happened?” she whispered.
Cam stood and draped his sweatshirt over one of the chairs closest to the fire. The room was warming considerably, but not nearly enough heat to explain why his face was darkening to red.
“Occupational hazard.” His voice was barely audible.
“Oh.” It looked like he’d been burned badly. You’d think he would want to stay as far away from fire as possible. Yet he didn’t just keep fighting fires, he’d worked his way up to captain. Impressive, but she wondered about the scars he was hiding. With the suits firefighters wore, how would fire have gotten through those layers to burn his abdomen so horribly?
“Are you hungry? I can make us something to eat.” She bustled into the kitchen.
“Yeah, I was planning on taking a beautiful lady to dinner.”
Sage bristled. Was he going to be throwing that out into the awkward space between them all night? How long before the storm broke and he could leave? She just wanted to enjoy some peace and quiet before she went back to school on Monday.
“I’m sorry, okay!” She whipped around to face him. “I shouldn’t have responded vaguely and let you think I was sick.”
Cam walked toward her, and she found herself backing slowly up. He kept coming, the look on his face determined and much too intriguing.
Sage backed into the pantry and was left with no escape route. Cam stopped in front of her. He was at least four inches taller than her, and she liked that a lot. What she didn’t like was the look in his eyes, uncertain and exposed. She’d hurt him, and she had no way to explain.
“Why?” he asked simply.
“Why did I lie?”
“Why didn’t you want to go out with me?”
Sage could feel how much the words cost him. He definitely wasn’t a guy that was in touch with his inner feelings, and he’d just made himself vulnerable to a woman who had already hurt him. How to explain without looking like an idiot or hurting him worse?
“Um, I didn’t think I should.”
He simply stared at her.
“Because of Isabella.” It rushed out before good sense could stop her.
“Isa … who?” His brow furrowed.
Sage looked down, completely confused. “Braden’s mom. I saw you hugging her at the game. I thought you two were together, and it isn’t fair for me to get in the middle of that, and besides, Braden really needs a dad.”
Cam glowered down at her, and any further explanation caught in her throat.
“If you didn’t want to go with me, it’s fine.” He bit out. “But you don’t need to keep piling lies on.”
“I’m not lying.” Sage straightened up. “I never lie.”
He guffawed.
“Okay, so I misled you about possibly being sick, but I did see you hugging Isabella. I’m sure you understand how much Braden needs a dad. He and Isabella deserve someone great.” She wanted to say, someone like you, but it was implied, right? “How could I get in the way of their happiness? I love that kid.”
Cam stepped back and stared at her like she was insane. “I love the kid too, but I have no desire to date his mom, let alone marry her.” He said the word like it was sour milk on his tongue.
Sage felt happier than she had in hours. Even though it was a guilty pleasure, putting her happiness before someone else’s. “You aren’t interested in Isabella?”
“No. Why would you even think that?”
“She said something that made me think …” She didn’t want to make Isabella embarrassed if she found out Sage shared her comment about Cam making her blood pressure rise. “And like I said, I saw you hugging her after the game.”
“Is that why you took off without saying hi?”
She nodded.
Cam gazed down at her. “Are you slow or something?”
“Excuse me.” How dare he? She’d graduated at the top of her class, thank you very much.
“Have you looked in a mirror lately? Do you even realize how gorgeous you are?”
Heat flushed into her face. “Braden’s mom is every bit as pretty as me, and she’s a sweetheart, and she’s vulnerable and needs someone, and she’s …” She looked down and finally forced out the descriptor that she could never aspire to. “Petite.”
Cam took that step closer again, planted his hands on each side of her head, and leaned in. Oh, my, goodness! She was going to hyperventilate from the nearness of his body, the smell of his musky cologne, and the searing look in his eyes.
“I’ve never seen a woman as beautiful as you.” He paused as if to let that sink in, but then he continued. “I don’t care if you’re over six feet tall, and I really like that you’re feisty.”
A great compliment and a slap to the face at the same time. He thought she was gargantuan. How could he claim she was over six feet? She was a full half-centimeter shy of six feet. Jerk. And he definitely didn’t think she was a sweetheart. She didn’t want to be feisty. Ugh.
Slipping under his arms, Sage took a steadying breath. “I’m going to run get the groceries from my car.”
Cam stopped her with a hand on her arm. The simple touch was nice, too nice. He’d said he didn’t care if she was over six feet. It wasn’t exactly a slam. She shook her head. Yes, it was. She’d been teased her whole life for being an Amazon woman, reaching five-nine in the seventh grade, but not stopping there. She’d been taller than most of the boys until sophomore year of high school. Even then, only a handful were taller and ever asked her out. It still stung, and she hated that she was so touchy, but that was life for a colossal woman.
“I’ll grab them,” he said. “Is your car unlocked?”
She nodded and watched him stomp from the cabin, slamming the door behind him. Sinking into a chair, she banged her head against the wooden table. He’d offended her, and then she’d ticked him off. How in the world were they going to co-exist in this cabin until the storm broke? What if he had to stay the night? At least there were two bedrooms and she’d brought up the fresh sheets and towels.
Cam slammed back into the cabin. His face was an unreadable mask, and Sage wished they could start all over. She’d really liked him before. He set the bags full of groceries on the counter and headed back outside without saying anything to her.
Sage unloaded the groceries into the fridge and decided she was going to make her chicken enchiladas tonight instead of saving them for dinner tomorrow. She didn’t know why she cared if she impressed Cam with her cooking, but maybe it would help restore his good opinion about her.
Flipping the light on in the kitchen, she pulled out the chicken, a frying pan, and the olive oil. Cam stomped back in and shut the door behind him, his arms full of the laundry basket with the clean laundry and another bag of groceries. He set the laundry basket down and then walked to her side with the groceries.
“Can I help you in here?”
“Um, I think I’ve got it.” His presence almost overwhelmed her. He was just so good-looking, appealing, and take-charge. She wanted to bow and say, “O Captain, My Captain” or something. Gritting her teeth, she vowed to never say that. “You can relax by the fire. Dinner will take about an hour.”
“I can’t relax while you work. How about I put the clean bedding on. Then I’ll help you in here.” It wasn’t a request, more like a command.
Sage froze with cold chicken in one hand and the shears in the other. “You think we’ll need both beds?” Her voice squeaked.
He nodded, his eyes sweeping over her face. “Unless you want to share?”
Her eyes widened, and her hands trembled. She hadn’t meant t
hat. She’d been hoping that the storm would blow over and he wouldn’t be staying.
“I’m teasing,” he said in a husky voice that didn’t help the situation at all. “Do you want me to sleep in my truck?”
“Don’t be silly.”
“I don’t think I’m the one who’s being silly here.” He stared at her with a look of longing and apprehension.
Sage didn’t know if she wanted to fire back at him for calling her silly, or reassure him that she wanted him here. But she really didn’t want him sleeping in here with her. Even if it was in a separate room. Just the act of sleeping in the same cabin felt too intimate, and she did not need intimate with a man who confused her and thought she was too tall and feisty. Instead of responding, she turned back to the pan and continued cutting up chicken into the sizzling oil.
Cam exhaled loudly. He turned away from her, picked up the laundry basket, and headed to her bedroom first. Both beds were queens, so it didn’t really matter which set of sheets he put on which bed, but it kind of bugged her. She liked the flannel sheets better, and she didn’t like him being in her personal space—teasing her, complimenting her, and belittling her. This was her retreat. Her cabin. She took fabulous care of twenty-three nine and ten-year-olds five days a week. She loved her kiddos and her job, but sometimes she just needed peace and quiet. Was it too much to ask she have a break from people once in a while? Especially a certain hot fireman who excited, frustrated, and confused her.
She finished the chicken, washed her hands, started slamming cans onto the counter, and then proceeded to hack up the avocado, green onion, and cilantro. This guacamole would be smooth. That was for sure.
Cam was suddenly by her side again. “What did that onion ever do to you?” he asked, but there was no smile in his voice or on his face.
“Intruded on my space without being invited.” She flung back at him.
Cam’s eyebrows arched up, and his lips twitched in what might have been a smile. “How can I help in here?”
“Stir the chicken.” She commanded. “Then open up all those cans, containers, and the bag of cheese, and put them in the mixing bowl.”
He saluted her. “Got it, Cap.”
“Don’t call me Cap.” Man, she was annoyed with him, but even more annoyed with herself. She didn’t want him here, yet she found herself wanting to smile at him instead of glower, and she really liked looking at him. How shallow was she?
“What should I call you?”
“Miss Turner will be just fine.”
He shook his head and stirred the chicken with a sigh. “And just like that, I lose first name privileges.”
“You’re going to lose a lot more than that if you keep teasing me.” She held up the knife threateningly.
Cam’s hand was around her wrist before she could move. He lightly grasped it and smirked at her. “You shouldn’t threaten. You’d never hurt someone. The sweet little teacher doesn’t have it in her.”
Sage pulled her hand free, turned back to her guacamole and muttered. “Not sweet and you already confirmed I’m not little.”
Cam stared at her, but didn’t say anything. Sage sighed and seasoned the guacamole with garlic, sea salt, and lime juice. It was going to be a very long night.
* * *
Cam wasn’t sure how he kept offending her. He told her she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and she got all ticked off. Maybe it was him coming onto her that ticked her off. He’d been uncomfortable when that girl from the car wreck had hit on him. Sage must be feeling something similar with him. He had to control himself when that impulse to touch her got strong. She couldn’t possibly be interested in him—lying that she was sick so she could avoid their date and then making up that lame excuse that he should be dating Braden’s mom because Braden needed a dad and Isabella was petite. He was almost six-five. Why would he want a short girl? Crazy woman anyway.
They worked silently to make dinner, and he did a pretty good job of avoiding staring at her beautiful face or her lean frame in her fitted, long-sleeved, blue running shirt and black tights. Didn’t women know what they did to men when they wore those things? If she had any idea how attracted he was to her, she’d force him to sleep in his truck.
Finally, the food and dishes were on the table, and they sat down. Cam didn’t consider himself a talkative person, but he couldn’t handle this tense silence much longer. There was always background noise at the fire station, either the television or music. Even an annoying talk radio guy who thought he knew it all would be better than this.
Sage looked at him as they sat across from each other at the oak butcher block table. “Do you want to pray?” she asked.
“I’d love to.” He bowed his head and thanked the Lord for Sage, her hospitality, and the food and prayed that they could be safe from the storm.
She uttered amen, and the mood seemed to lighten a little bit. Cam gestured for her to dish up first. She sighed and scooped a large serving of the chicken enchiladas onto her plate. “Always the gentleman, eh, Cap?”
“My grandmother raised me to be,” he said before he realized the follow-up question was inevitable.
“Your grandmother raised you?” She dipped a chip into her guacamole, placed some in her mouth and watched him as she chewed delicately.
Cam glanced down at his plate, toying with his pile of enchilada. It looked and smelled almost as great as Sage, when he’d gotten close enough to her a few times to catch her scent with his damaged senses. But until he deflected her question, he’d take no satisfaction in the food.
“Yeah. She was a great lady.”
“Was?” Her eyes were so full of compassion. He usually hated that look, but on her beautiful face it wasn’t as bad as usual.
“She and my grandfather have both been gone a couple of years.”
“I’m sorry.” She took a sip of her milk and admitted. “My grandparents have been gone for a few years too. Both sets. It sucks.”
Cam smiled at her terminology even though it was nothing to smile about. “It does.” He commiserated. “I never knew my dad’s parents, but my mom’s were”— His voice caught —“The best.”
“What about the rest of your family?” she asked softly.
“It’s just me and my younger sister, Caylee, now.” Cam shook his head. He didn’t delve into this kind of conversation with anyone. He gestured to the food. “You should eat while it’s warm.”
“So should you.”
He nodded and made an effort, placing a bite of enchilada in his mouth. It was a great mix of creamy, spicy, and warm. “It’s really good,” he said.
“Thank you.”
They ate quietly for a few minutes, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable or cold as before. Cam enjoyed the enchiladas, freezer corn, chips, guacamole, and freshly-canned salsa. He hadn’t had freezer corn or home-canned salsa since Grams died.
“Do you have a garden?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. My mom rocks the soil though, and as long as I pull a weed on occasion and help her harvest, she gives me more bottled food than I can use.”
He could just envision a large family home with a huge garden and Sage with a woman who was older, but looked like her, laughing and talking as they dug in the dirt. He felt a longing for a mom he hadn’t allowed himself in years. Shoving in a large bite of enchilada, he chewed and swallowed quickly.
“You okay?” Sage asked.
“Yeah, sure.” He didn’t say anything else as they finished their dinner, and thankfully, she didn’t ask. Standing as soon as his plate was clear, he started gathering dishes.
Sage stood, but he gestured her back down. “You cooked, so I have to clean up.”
“What?”
“Firehouse rules.”
“Really?”
He actually did smile. “No. Powers, he’s the new guy, the Boot, does most of the cleanup, but we help sometimes and everyone takes turns cooking.”
Sage stood next to him, despite hi
s protests, and they quickly cleaned up the table, put food away, and did the dishes. Cam liked it a lot. They were comfortable together, and hopefully, she’d forgiven him for whatever he’d done to tick her off earlier.
“Do you like to cook?” she asked him.
“I don’t love it, but I can follow a recipe okay.”
She regarded him. “No imagination in your cooking though?”
He shook his head. “I follow the rules.”
They were side by side as she washed dishes and he rinsed. She bumped against his shoulder. “You always follow the rules?”
Cam looked down at her and thought if he had to break some rules to kiss her, he would definitely do it. But he had to tell her the truth and remind himself that she probably wasn’t interested in kissing him. “Yes, always.”
She licked her lips and looked him up and down. “Hmm. We might have to teach you how to bend them.”
He held onto a slippery plate and wondered if she was blatantly flirting with him or if it was just a really good dream.
“At least where cooking is concerned. Food tastes better when a recipe isn’t followed so rigidly.”
He smiled, stacked the clean plate, and took another soapy one from the pile. “Hmm. If everything you cook tastes as good as tonight’s food, I might be convinced.”
Sage winked. “I make everything taste delectable.”
“I bet you do.” Cam smiled happily, liking her flirtatious side. Maybe this night was going to turn into something good. He was suddenly very grateful that he’d followed her and that they were effectively being snowed in. If they spent a few days up here together, who knew where it would lead?
Chapter Nine
Sage enjoyed the evening with Cam. They played cards, ate some of her candy stash, and talked easily while the snow piled up in the windowsills. Obviously Mother Nature had forgotten it was spring and decided to retreat to winter.
The conversation with Cam was nothing serious. She still didn’t know why his grandparents had raised him or how he really got the scars on his abdomen, but he’d told her a little about his sister, Caylee, who was going to school at Pepperdine University in California and was his favorite person in the world. He’d also told her about his crew at the fire station and playing lacrosse in high school and on the University of Utah’s club team in college.