“Lexie Tindall, I’ve liked you since we started working together.”
“Me, too. You’re my best friend.”
Great. In a second, she’d probably pat him on the head. “I don’t want to be your pal.”
“What do you want?”
He opened his eyes and leveled his gaze at her. He wouldn’t give her half truths now. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you, Lexie.” He watched her lips part in surprise, and he continued. “I want you in the morning, and I want you before I go to sleep. On my days off, I save up my best stories to tell you. When we’re at work, I have to stop myself from sitting in dispatch all day, just to watch you work. When you work overtime, I leave my radio on so I can listen to your voice.” He curled his fingers into fists to keep from touching her. She was just a breath away, a breath he shouldn’t take. “I can’t stop thinking about you when I’m not around you, and you make me completely insane when you pull on your hair like that.”
Her hand dropped to her side, and the curl bounced back into place. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I’m freaking sick of lying.” He tried not to think about how bad it would be at work when she hated him for this.
“Are you drunk?”
“No!”
She let a pause hang between them. “Coin, I don’t know what to say.”
“Admit that you were kissing me back in the kitchen.”
She blinked. “I was. I did.”
Happiness burned a trail through him.
“But,” she went on, “I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“You seemed pretty comfortable.”
“It’s you. You’re my friend. And more than that, you’re a firefighter. I don’t kiss firefighters. You know that.”
Coin wanted the look of confusion on her face to clear. He’d gone too far to turn back now. “Tell me you don’t feel something between us.” He could feel it at that exact moment, a heat, an incredible tension that almost shimmered visibly in the air.
“You’re imagining it,” she said slowly, not meeting his eyes. “There’s nothing between us.”
No. She had to feel it, too. “Come on, Lexie. Don’t pretend like that kiss in the kitchen wasn’t life changing.”
Lexie pushed a hand through her curls and then touched her bottom lip. “It was just a kiss, Coin.”
If she was saying that, if she believed that, then Coin had just been proven to be a huge fool. Everything he thought existed between them, didn’t. He’d imagined the whole thing. “Oh.”
“I should go.” She stood.
He moved to join her.
“No, don’t. Where’s my purse? Here it is.” She grabbed it off the floor. “I brought that pan, but you can bring it to me at work later.”
Her words were fast, tumbling over each other. Her voice, usually clear and calm, was high pitched and tense. “Lexie, don’t go. Let’s talk about this.”
“Nothing to talk about, Coin. You have a little crush. You’ll get over it, and then someday we’ll laugh about all this.”
Coin touched her arm. “Don’t leave.”
Her face tilted up to meet his eyes. Six inches, that was all that separated them. He waited for her to come to him. Taking the kiss from her hadn’t been fair. He wouldn’t kiss her again until she kissed him first.
Her eyes were sad. Had he done that to her?
“It was just a kiss,” she repeated. “I have to go.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
There were few things good about a knock at the door at 7 a.m. on a day off, but the worst part of it was that Lexie knew who it would be.
She was right.
Her mother stood on the doorstep, a basket in hand. “May I come in?”
Lexie stood the door open and turned around, going into the kitchen. She poured water in the carafe and didn’t ask her mother what she was doing there. She’d know soon enough.
“You haven’t even made coffee yet?” Mira sounded incredulous.
Lexie did a half turn to show her mother that she was still wearing pajamas. “I hadn’t gotten up yet, either.” She’d been lying in bed, thinking about the kiss from the night before. About Coin.
Mira pointedly looked at the watch on her slim wrist. “You know what they say about the early bird.”
“I don’t like worms,” said Lexie. “They’re slimy.”
“Your date. Tell me.”
Oh, crap. She’d forgotten she’d told Mira about her blind date. “It was great.” And by great, Lexie meant horrible. Thomas had been a bore, she’d been horrified at how amazing Ginger was, and then, out of nowhere, Coin had kissed her.
He’d kissed the blazes out of her. And worse, she’d liked it.
She’d loved it, actually, although she hadn’t told him that—she couldn’t. That was only the second worst part of it, though.
The very worst part was that somehow he had feelings for her. Feelings! For Lexie!
Lexie knew Janice, Coin’s ex-wife. She’d been a perfect firefighter’s wife—pretty and popular. She was a tiny little thing. Petite. She had birdlike wrists that looked as if she wouldn’t be able to wear more than one bracelet at a time.
For that reason, Coin had always existed in Lexie’s mind as someone who liked a thin woman. She’d never thought, even idly, what it would be like to kiss him, although apparently she should have.
All that he’d said? About feeling that way for her for so long? It couldn’t be true. It just wasn’t possible. When Lexie was at work, she felt like she was camping. Being at work for two days straight didn’t lend to marathon makeup sessions. She didn’t do her hair. The guys had seen her a million times in the middle of the night, bleary eyed with lack of sleep, and she’d seen them the same way. There was no romance at the station.
That was how she thought about work. That was how she thought about Coin. As a friend.
Such a good friend.
Why, then, could she still feel him on her lips? Why was it she could still taste him, feel the weight of his mouth on hers?
And why had she had so many dreams about him all night? In the most disturbing one, he’d pulled off her dress and touched her in the places she’d never imagined Coin touching. She’d wanted him to. Then he’d disappeared, and she’d heard his voice, calling out for her on the radio. She’d known he was trapped, pinned, hurt somewhere, and she couldn’t help him. She’d woken with her hands shaking and tears on her cheeks.
Lexie put the coffee into the filter and hit the red button. Behind her, Mira twittered about something, flitting in and out of the kitchen. She’d settle soon enough, and Lexie would have to listen. But now, as she leaned against the counter—which reminded her of how she’d leaned against his sink last night—she put her fingers to her lips.
Online, men who liked big women just came right out and said it. In fact, men online were often disappointed that Lexie didn’t weigh more, which was always a strange kind of treat. Online dating meant she could weed out the ones who had issues with bigger girls. “Please be height/weight proportionate.” If Lexie knew one thing, she knew that’s something she was. Her round curves suited her frame, they always had. It had taken years and years for her to accept them, especially with a mother like Mira always chipping away at her, but finally, she was okay with what she had to work with. Her weight was truly appropriate to her height and frame. She was strong and fit.
But height/weight proportionate—to men—meant thin enough to disappear while standing sideways.
Coin had put that in his ad.
What if he’d stopped kissing Lexie because he’d felt her love handles? What if he hadn’t followed her outside when she left last night because he was mortified by his mistake?
How on earth was she supposed to go back to work tomorrow?
Mira flitted back into the room, rubbing oil into her cuticles. “You know, I just love that manicure set I gave you. Don’t you?” Mira reached out and grabbed Lexie’s hand, looking carefully at the chipped nails, at he
r old, worn-off polish. “Honey. That just sits in your bathroom, and you don’t even use it. Let’s go get mani-pedis today! Together!”
“No, thank you.”
“Why not?”
“No, thank you.” Sometimes that was all she could say to her mother, all she could think of saying. If she kept repeating it, kept saying no without explaining why, she knew from past experience that eventually her mother would give up and start bugging her about something else.
Mira poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the table.
“Will you make me a slice of toast, darling?”
“Yes,” said Lexie. That she could do.
“Gluten-free?”
Lexie didn’t bother answering. The regular kind of bread—full of delicious gluten—would be just fine for her mother.
“Now tell me about the date, darling, from start to finish. No, just one piece is fine for me.”
It wouldn’t cross her mother’s mind that perhaps the other piece of bread might be for Lexie. She pressed the toaster’s button, folded her arms, and turned to face the music that was Mira Tindall.
“I didn’t tell you, but it was a double date.”
“Oh! How interesting! Why?”
“Safety in numbers.”
“What is this fellow’s name again?”
“Thomas.”
“A good, strong name.”
It wasn’t. It was a little boring, Lexie thought, especially when contrasted to a name like Coin. “We had dinner. That’s all.”
“You said it was great. What made it that?” Mira leaned forward, her eyes alight. “Did he kiss you?”
Lexie paused. Thomas hadn’t.
“He did! He did. Was it a good kiss?”
The best kiss of her life, maybe. That’s why it was so upsetting. “Ma, I’m sorry, but I’m not that into telling you about any kind of kiss.”
Mira frowned. “Now you’re just hurting my feelings on purpose. I just want you to find your always.”
Crap. She’d meant to head her mother off at the pass, not to hurt her. “I’m sorry. It just feels weird.”
But sheesh. Her “always.” It had been her father’s favorite word. He said it to Lexie when he kissed her goodnight and told her he loved her. “Always,” he’d whisper with one last kiss pressed to her forehead. It was the last word he always said to her mother before he left the house. “Always,” he’d say before smiling at her and shutting the door.
Yeah, sometimes Lexie dreamed about an “always.” But she also dreamed about pregnant giraffes chasing her in off-road vehicles. She didn’t put that much stock in dreams.
Still looking pained, her nose tilted higher than normal, Mira reached for the basket she’d brought. “I’ll give you your present and then I’ll leave, and then you can get back to your day that I’m so obviously interrupting.” She sent a pointed look around Lexie’s kitchen. “Or you can go back to sleep. It’s all the same to me, obviously.”
Inwardly, Lexie sighed. “Thank you.”
“I haven’t even given it to you yet.”
With this kind of lead-up, Lexie knew she’d hate the present. “I’m sure I’ll love it.”
Mira clapped. “Oh, you will.” She took out a package and unwrapped the red cloth around it. “It’s herbal. The woman who sold it to me swears by it, and you should have seen her cute little figure. She said it will cut the craving for all fats and sugar by ninety percent if you just drink a cup of this every morning and then again before you go to bed.”
“It’s a diet supplement?”
“Aid, darling. It’s a health aid. Everyone needs a little help now and again.” Mira tilted her head and examined Lexie. “You look like you’ve put on just a skosh more weight again. I thought you told me you’d keep that five pounds off. For your health.”
Lexie sucked a sip of coffee into her mouth even though it was still too hot. “It’s not for my health,” she muttered, knowing better and doing it anyway.
“Excuse me?”
“You hate that I’m not tiny, like you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” But Mira’s smile was too bright.
Lexie stood up. “I will never be anything like you. And you know what? I don’t want to be.” She willed herself to stop talking, but she couldn’t seem to find the off switch. “You’re too small.”
Her mother preened like a peacock. “Thank you.”
“It’s not a compliment.”
“Your father liked me trim. Sometimes, I think that if you …”
“Lost weight I could catch a firefighter? Like you did?”
“No!” Her mother looked genuinely horrified.
“Dad loved me, too. Just like this.”
“But—”
Lexie said, “I’m the way I am because of you. Because of the fact that you’ve never been healthy a day in your life. If you have a piece of candy, you have to punish yourself for three days. You know what that does to a kid? Whenever I had a piece of birthday cake at a kid’s party, you’d make me run around the block ten times before bed for a week.”
“For your health.”
Lexie pushed forward, gripping her coffee cup handle as if it could save her. “Healthy is eating sensibly. You were anorexic and bulimic when you were in college.” Her mother had admitted it only once, when Lexie had caught her vomiting in the bathroom at a dinner party.
“But I haven’t been since then. I’m just very careful to watch what I eat.”
“Last Wednesday? Eating an apple for your one meal of the day isn’t careful.”
Mira sniffed, but the whites of her eyes looked panicked. “I shouldn’t have told you that. I just didn’t have much food in the house last week and I didn’t want to go shopping.”
“You bragged about it in order to make me feel bad.”
“I didn’t.” Mira rewrapped the tea in the cloth.
“I’ll never be you.” She said it as gently as she could. “Do you know how hard I’ve worked on being okay with myself? Finally accepting myself? It’s taken years. And therapy. And lots of friends loving me for exactly what I am.”
“I know—but now that you’re dating more …”
“Lots of men love a girl with curves.” Lexie’s voice had a wobble now, and she wished with all her heart that her mother would just leave.
“Sure.” Mira’s head bobbed again. “Sure.”
Her mother left quickly, saying something unconvincing about a charity meeting. As the front door closed, Lexie could almost hear her father’s voice. “Always.”
It sounded like a reproach.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Station One was directly on the route between Serena’s school and her mother’s house, so she often stopped by to see Coin on his work days.
Today Coin had plans for his daughter. Coin realized he was scheming to use Serena to get the attention of a woman, romantically. That probably made him some kind of unfit father. But then again, Serena was going to end up with a bag full of oatmeal raisin cookies, her favorite, so he supposed that made up for it. At least, he hoped it did.
Serena was suspicious, though. “You want to bake cookies here at work?” From the day room, the baseball game blared. Hank and Tox yelled at whatever play their guy had just screwed up.
“Why not?”
“What if you get a call?”
“Then you can stay in the station and make sure the cookies don’t burn.”
Serena poked the room temperature butter with her finger. “I thought when you guys got a call that the oven shuts off.”
“It does.” It was a fire safety thing—if they had to go on a medical or fire run while a pan of eggs was on the stove or a loaf of garlic bread was in the oven, the fire station wouldn’t burn down in their absence.
“So that won’t work.”
“But if you stay behind, you can turn the oven back on. If you can’t fix a problem, you’re not trying hard enough.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I hate it w
hen you say that. I don’t know about this.”
Coin was flummoxed. “You don’t know about baking cookies? That’s what you’re telling me.”
Holding up a finger she said in a voice that was strangely grown up, “One, you don’t normally bake cookies at work. Two, you’re weird today.”
“How weird?” He crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue, but Serena didn’t laugh.
“Oh, I get it,” she said, throwing her backpack onto the kitchen island.
“What?”
“That date you had two nights ago. You’re making her cookies.”
“Why can’t I make my daughter a treat if I want to?”
“Because you don’t,” she said simply. “Mom makes cookies. You and I go out to ice cream. That how this works.”
It was true. That was the division of labor that had come to pass over the years.
“So you’re getting your daughter to make cookies for the girl you like.”
Coin rubbed his face. “Yes.”
She laughed, a child again. “That’s so cute! Let’s bake!”
The engine—of course—did get a call between the baking of the second and third trays. It was just a woman who cut herself shaving but was on blood thinners, so the clean up took longer than Coin would have liked.
When he finally got back into the station kitchen, the oven was off. Two trays of cooling cookies sat on the big wooden island. Coin knew that with the guys coming back from the hospital, they’d last about five minutes, so he piled a plateful and headed to dispatch.
Laughter filtered down the hall. Good. Lexie was awake, then. Nerves raced down his spine. He’d pointedly stayed out of dispatch today until now. That in itself was enough to look suspicious, but he hadn’t wanted to arrive empty handed.
“Dad! Lexie’s playing poker with me!” Serena was standing next to Lexie’s computer, bouncing on the balls of her red sneakers. “Look! Look! I won fifty bucks!”
Coin leaned in to look and caught a breath of Lexie’s scent, light and floral. “Tell me that’s not real money.”
Lexie said, “I know we get away with a lot here, but I’m pretty sure the chief would frown on gambling while on the job.”
Burn (The Firefighters of Darling Bay Book 2) Page 7
