MIKE The Firefighters of Station 8

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MIKE The Firefighters of Station 8 Page 3

by Samanthya Wyatt


  “Do you mind if I stay?”

  She raised her head and found his eyes locked on hers.

  “Let’s start over. Hi. I’m Mike. I’d like to get to know you.” He leaned forward with his forearms braced on the edge of the table. His warm smile conveyed tenderness and held a hint of promised excitement. Add his actions, his voice and his kind eyes peeling away her barriers, she slowly dissolved into a puddle. Somewhere a little voice niggled the back of her brain, do not fall under his spell.

  He must have read her thoughts or guessed her vulnerability, for he lifted his arms from the table and leaned back against the cushioned booth. Keeping his gaze on her, he took a sip of his beer. Transfixed, she watched the knot in his neck bob as he swallowed. Heat flared below her belly button. She resisted the urge to close her eyes.

  A man’s physique had never affected her this way. Wasn’t there a saying that went, things that seemed too good to be true, usually were? This guy looked like sin, smelled like heaven, and made her want to jump into his lap.

  She reached for her drink and hoped her hand would not shake.

  “Okay. What would you like to know?”

  “Everything.” His voice lowered to tantalizing pitch. She focused on his mouth as his lips tempted, beguiled.

  This was getting too deep. She attempted to lighten things up. “How much time have you got?”

  “Forever.”

  Sensations swamped her that she’d never experienced before. On impulse, she wanted to tell him everything, give him everything. That knowledge frazzled her. She laughed to cover her nervousness. This guy was a smooth talker and probably had used the same approach with many women.

  “Some pick-up line.”

  He arched a dark eyebrow, his expression vulnerable. “I thought we were starting over.”

  And just like that, she fell under his spell.

  “I work at a school. Not much of a paycheck to brag about, but I love kids.” Was it her imagination, or had he winced? Good grief. She wasn’t asking the guy to father her children.

  He gestured around the room. “And this is where you go after work?”

  “Mexican food is my weakness. Tammy and I come here every once in a while.”

  “My good fortune you chose today.”

  Really? “Your friend did come over first.”

  “Jared can’t pass up a pretty face. He must be losing his touch. He left the prettiest one for me.”

  Pretty. Beautiful. A man used flattery when he wanted something. In her younger years, she’d wanted to be pretty, but her sister had crushed those fanciful thoughts. She’d constantly told Cassie she was unattractive. True, her skin was creamy smooth, but her blonde hair was too pale, her nose too round, her eyes were more green than blue. Vulnerable and shy, she’d been convinced that guys only wanted one thing.

  “Hey. There’s nothing wrong with these eyes.” He tapped a finger at his temple. “And I like what I see.”

  What a flatterer. Yet, the way he said it, she wanted to believe him. Just because he had mouthwatering good looks didn’t mean he had a motive. Besides, his mesmerizing eyes were already melting her inhibitions. She couldn’t remember ever being so relaxed with a man.

  “When you were a little boy, did you want to be a fireman?”

  A shadow crossed his face so quickly she wondered if she could have imagined it.

  “My dad was a fireman. Today we use the term firefighter. That’s all I ever wanted to be. Guess it’s in the blood.”

  “How about brothers or sisters?” she asked, then took a sip of her beer. Having the bottle in her hand grounded her.

  “None” he said with a shake of his head. “How about you?”

  “A sister.” A jealous, overbearing sister who had dominated her youth and still attempted to run her life. Feeling her body tense, Cassie shook off her thoughts and picked at the label on her bottle.

  Beep. Beep. Twang.

  Mike jerked to attention. He glanced down at his belt.

  Someone yelled from across the room. “Mike.”

  He banged the glass bottle on the wood table and scooted from the booth. “My ride’s leaving.” He stepped to her and bent close.

  The breath caught in her lungs for fear he was going to kiss her. She couldn’t move. Taking her hand, he brushed his lips over the skin at her wrist.

  “Till we meet again, pretty lady.”

  And then he was gone.

  Chapter 3

  Mike gritted his teeth against the burn and pushed, straining his muscles to their limit. Nothing gained without hard work. Results were all that mattered. His father had drilled that lesson into him long ago.

  He sucked air in his nostrils and blew out his mouth, pushing his body harder. Thirty years later and he still believed his father’s words to be true. It had been just the two of them for so long.

  That’s what kept him awake. Thinking things that were unobtainable. Dreams that had no likelihood of ever becoming a reality. Still, knowing they were impossible didn’t stop him from thinking about Cassie’s smile or the way she tilted her head when she listened. Or the way her eyes assessed his every word while she tried to hide her own secrets. She kept her thoughts private, but he’d seen a glimpse of the woman underneath. Enough to kindle his interest.

  “Man, I thought I’d be the first one here.” Cooper dropped his towel and stood beside the weight bench.

  Mike’s chest heaved.

  “You got a lot of weight on there. Why don’t you have a spotter?” Cooper asked, his tone uneasy. Mike didn’t need anyone hovering over him.

  “What makes you think I need one?” he hissed through his teeth. “Maybe a scrawny little runt like you needs a spotter.”

  “Four hundred and fifty pounds? Hell, Hoss. Even the Jolly Green Giant—”

  Gasping, Mike lifted the silver bar higher. Cooper grabbed the center and helped to place the weights in their holder.

  “Christ, man. How long you been at this?”

  Sweat ran into Mike’s eye. He swiped at it with the back of his hand. He took a quick glance about the room, glad no one else had entered.

  For two long weeks, Cassie had plagued him. No woman had ever stayed in his mind so long. She’d seeped in and circled his brain like a spellbinding mist. Sensual images of her had kept him awake through every long night since he’d met her. Long before the sun rose this morning, he’d finally given up. He’d headed to the weight room with the idea that pumping iron would tire him out, exhaust his body enough he’d have to sleep.

  Right.

  When he closed his eyes, Prussian gems stared back at him. Blonde hair, the shade no bottle could ever achieve. A perfectly rounded nose he ached to kiss. Pouting lips he wanted to taste. He willed the sandman to take him, to no avail. His mind revisited her curvaceous breasts and imagined long sexy legs wrapped around him while her cries of ecstasy reverberated in his ears.

  “Mike!” Cooper’s bellow jerked him to awareness.

  “I’m not deaf.” Mike raked a hand through his short hair, causing it to spike up.

  “Well, when you put it like that … where did you go?” Cooper threw a towel on Mike’s chest, then stepped over to the next bench and laid back.

  “Where’s your spotter?”

  “Gee, Hoss. I’m benching a couple hundred pounds less than you.”

  Mike shrugged, wiping sweat from his face and shoulders. He’d grown used to the nickname. When he asked Cooper where he’d come up with it, Cooper told Mike about a western TV show on an old rerun station. One of the characters was big guy who reminded Cooper of Mike.

  “You’ll grow up one day, pup.” Cooper was younger, lanky and always tried to keep up with the rest of the guys on the team. He stood over six feet, was twenty-two, and Mike still thought of the newest member as a young’un’. Reminded him of a puppy trying to run with the big dogs.

  “You didn’t answer,” Cooper said. “You look like you’ve been in here all night.”

 
Mike glanced at the kid who was only eight years younger than himself. “That’s the advantage of having this equipment at the station. We can use it anytime.”

  “Better than having to pay a gym. I can use my hard-earned money for other things.” Cooper lifted his bar from its holder and pumped out a set.

  “Yeah? Like what?”

  Coop finished counting before he answered. “Oh, luxuries like food, rent.” Then he replaced the iron in its holder.

  Mike had seen no evidence of the kid struggling. Maybe he should keep a closer eye out.

  “You spend a lot of time in here.”

  He didn’t reply. The kid didn’t need to know everything, even if he thought he did. Maybe Mike did spend a lot of time pumping iron. He found it the only recourse to push through his pain, push through the memories. Convince himself that his life was good. Things were fine the way they were. He had a job, a home, good health. What else could he expect?

  Cooper lifted the bar for a second set, pumped a few times and then placed the weights back with a clank.

  “So, what kept you awake?”

  Long blonde hair. Turquoise eyes. A body that promised him heaven.

  “Must be a broad,” Cooper said.

  “People still use that word?” Mike shot the kid a glance.

  “In my family, men ruled. Broad and babe were words used in everyday language.” Coop’s face colored. “I won’t mention what else I heard in my house.”

  For the first time Mike wondered what kind of household the kid had grown up in. Cooper had showed up out of the blue, wanting to join the fire department. Never said much about his family or where he’d hailed from. Did he have a family? Did he have enough money to live on?

  “Besides, you just changed the subject. Why are you keeping her to yourself? She a secret?”

  “Who said there was a woman?” If Mike admitted Cassie filled most of his thoughts, the kid would never let up.

  “Makes sense. Jared has a new girl every week. Laredo talks about hit and run sex.”

  “Hit and what?”

  Cooper sat up. “You know. Hit it and run before she gets her hooks into you.”

  Christ. What has the kid been learning? At the firehouse, no less.

  “First Jared and now Laredo. You shouldn’t listen to those two. You’re still at an impressionable age.”

  “I’m not a kid.” Cooper’s face flushed red. “What kid could work with you guys and handle the things I’ve seen?”

  True. Every member of their team pulled their weight. A firefighter required a man’s physique and a man’s mind. Every emergency call, in all likelihood, presented life-threatening probabilities that made some men puke. Cooper had seen and carried out his duties with admirable responsibility. And he’d done so without whining.

  “Sorry, Coop.” Mike stood and rolled his shoulders. “You’re the youngest—that makes you a kid.”

  “I was old enough for Uncle Sam at eighteen. Old enough to drink at twenty-one. At twenty-two, I’m still a freakin’ kid at Station Eight.”

  “It’s called life, pup.” Mike snapped his towel around his neck. “I think I’ll go take a nap.”

  ***

  Today had started out just like any other. This morning, Cassie woke up to the alarm, showered, dressed for school and prepared for the onslaught of twenty-three children. Actually, they were pretty good kids. She loved teaching third grade. Her students were old enough to have learned the basics and were ready to begin challenging their minds.

  The problem was her mind. The blasted thing refused to focus on teaching. Her attention remained on a certain man in a navy-blue uniform. From his short, black hair all the way down his rocking, hot body to his fire boots. Six feet plus of male perfection filled every brain cell in her head.

  When he’d slid into the booth beside her, her pulse had kicked into overdrive. She’d known not to get excited—more than likely he was just like every other guy. Out for a good time, score, then drop you like a hot potato. Although, Mike’s actions had been more considerate. She’d sensed a moment of hesitancy, as if he were as uncertain of her as she was of him.

  He’d smelled so good. Her nose had tingled at the aroma of musk and something she couldn’t identify. And then he’d gone and melted her heart when he’d told her he’d like to get to know her. He’d even kissed her wrist, sending a shock jolting through her system. It was damn near impossible to teach children when she kept imagining Mike with his clothes off.

  Would she see him again? He hadn’t asked for her number. He didn’t know her last name. She couldn’t very well drag Tammy to the Mexican restaurant every night.

  Fourteen days she’d dwelled on the firefighter. Sure, he had an awesome profession, but she always looked deeper to find the person underneath the layer they showed the world. Something told her Mike had a few layers he kept hidden.

  Then there were her fantasies. Mike had a hot body. She couldn’t help but be drawn by his magnetic blue eyes. His massive chest and bulging arms. His short black hair that she wanted to stroke and comb her fingers though. She wasn’t one to jump into bed with a guy. She spent most of her time avoiding men. But this one … Mike had looked at her as if he wanted to know her rather than a guy looking for a hook up. The vibes coming from him made her wonder. Would he be gentle? Would he care enough to see her for who she was and not just for sex? He made her want to let down her guard.

  This has to stop.

  She jerked open her carry-bag and stuffed papers inside. Grading student tests would take care of part of her Friday evening. That still left the weekend.

  “Hey. Are you ready to leave?” Tammy’s voice carried from the doorway.

  “I’m packing up now.” Cassie slung her jacket over an arm and grabbed her purse. “Ready.”

  “You want to hit El Puerto’s tonight?” Tammy asked as they exited the building.

  So, Tammy had been thinking the same thing.

  “Are we taking your boys with us?” Cassie asked.

  “Heavens, no. They’re going to their dad’s. It’s his weekend.” Tammy’s ex-husband was a decent dad—he just didn’t know how to stay faithful. She’d finally divorced him two years previously when the twins, David and Christopher, had been four. They seemed to be doing well and were now in first grade.

  “I don’t know, Tammy. I really don’t want to stake out the place. We’ve already been there twice this week.” Her stomach revolted at the idea of a regular dose of hot salsa. Not to mention the weight she would gain.

  “I can’t believe you let him get away without your number.”

  After reflection, neither could she. “We don’t know anything about those guys.”

  “Well, they can’t be serial killers if they’re firemen.” Tammy’s grin was pretty persuasive.

  Cassie slipped on her sun glasses and adjusted her purse strap over her shoulder. A gust of wind brushed her face as they headed out the side door. “I’ve got a ton of papers to grade.”

  “It’s the weekend. That’s just an excuse.”

  “I don’t want to go.” If she kept repeating that phrase, maybe at some point she would begin to believe it.

  Tammy stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking Cassie’s progress. “Sure, you do.”

  Oh brother. She looked away, unable to meet her friend’s gaze while she lied. “No, I don’t. I’m tired.”

  Tammy glared at her as if she’d just grown horns. “Look. We’re going and that’s that.” Then, without warning, she grabbed Cassie’s arm and hauled her through the staff parking lot. She didn’t stop until she reached her car.

  “Oh, all right. We’re just setting ourselves up, you know.”

  “No, I don’t know. It’s Friday night. They might show up. Or someone else might catch our eye. Either way, we’ll have fun. I’m not staying home when I have a night free.”

  They both were free. Cassie had no desire to sit at her apartment alone, either. What would she do? Stare at four walls? C
hances were her six-foot hunk would invade her thoughts, just as he had every other evening this week.

  Besides, who was she kidding? If there was a possibility Mike would show up, she wanted to be there.

  “Six?” she asked.

  “Six is fine. That will give me plenty of time to primp.” Tammy made a grand gesture of patting her hair. Wearing a satisfied look, she pushed the button on her key ring to unlock her doors. After the beep signaled them open, she turned back. “I’ll pick you up.”

  “Okay. I’ll be ready.” Now that Cassie had finally agreed, her shoulders felt lighter. The more she thought about going out this evening, the more she looked forward to it. “Would a little black skirt and stilettos be too much?”

  “That’s my girl.” Tammy laughed.

  Chapter 4

  Jared accompanied Mike this evening to Wendy’s. The bar, not the hamburger joint. Wendy provided good food along with plenty of beer, a jukebox and a pool table. Place was always packed. The guys weren’t too rowdy, but the only women that frequented Wendy’s were liberal or biker gals. Not that he preferred any female this evening—he had one too many running loose in his head now.

  Trying to forget the luscious blonde, Mike had been drinking more than normal. One chance meeting and the woman lodged in his mind like she’d been embedded there.

  He shoved the door open and stepped into the cool night air.

  “I’ll take your keys.”

  Mike glanced up and realized Jared was speaking to him. Mike stiffened his spine and braced his hands on his hips. “No need, Jared. I’m fine.”

  “You’ve had a bit to drink. As a matter of fact, I’ve never seen you put away alcohol like that. Something bothering you?”

  “Nothing is bothering me.” Except an itch he’d like a certain blonde to scratch. He may have overindulged, but he still had a clear head.

 

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