Burning Ambition

by Amy Knupp

  Curious, he stood there in the doorway, trying not to watch her every move as she searched through the drawers of an antique-looking white dresser. Instead, he took in the details of her room, still feeling somewhat like a voyeur, but unable to resist.

  The room was…shockingly pink. Her bed was un-made, but there were lacy white ruffles around the bottom of the mattress and edging the pink floral pillowcases. The walls were painted a pale pink to match. The furniture was dainty, almost little-girllike. Clothes were scattered on the floor and he tried his damnedest to ignore the silky pink and purple underthings among the jeans and fire department shirts. He did not need to know what she wore beneath her uniform.

  He was still staring as she approached him, pulling on an orange zip-up sweatshirt.

  “Welcome to the Pepto room,” she said.

  Joe grinned, fighting off images of those panties….

  “For my sixteenth birthday, my dad’s treat was to let me have my room redecorated any way I wanted it,” she explained defensively.

  “I never imagined you as a pink kind of woman.”

  “If you wear pink, they never see the knuckle sandwich coming.”

  “And you seem like such a peaceful person,” he said, following her to the kitchen.

  “It’s the brothers. One in particular needed his ass kicked on a regular basis. Thankfully, Anthony lives in Dallas now, and doesn’t make it home much. Here.” She grabbed a plastic container off the counter and removed the lid.

  “Cookies?”

  “Scotcheroos. Baked them today.”

  He took one and bit into it. “You made these?” He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice.

  “I can do more than just put out a fire, Captain.” She grinned and helped herself to one. “Not that I bake often. These happen to be my dad’s favorites. Of course, he never made it home to appreciate them.” The smile disappeared instantly, as if someone had thrown a bucket of water over her head.

  “His loss,” Joe said, trying to keep it light.

  “Take a handful. Otherwise I’ll eat more than my share. I made a double batch.”

  He took one more, not wanting to steal the chief’s treats.

  “You don’t like them?” Faith challenged.

  “They’re the best cookies I’ve had in a long time.”

  She went to a drawer and pulled out a plastic zipper bag, then shoved in as many cookies as she could fit. “If you’re lying, you can give them to your dog.”

  “I don’t have a dog,” he said. “And I’m not lying. Let’s go get your dad’s truck.”

  She stuffed another bite in her mouth and nodded, turning serious again. “Thank you for helping us tonight, Joe. You were right, I don’t accept help very well, but…”

  “It’s no problem,” he said, mildly amused by her discomfort. “Middle of the night rescues are what I do. But then, you can relate.”

  She seemed about to say something else, but only led him down the stairs and out the door.

  As they drove back to the Shell Shack, he was hyperaware of the woman sitting just two feet away. Chief Peligni would have to give up the bottle, because this couldn’t happen again. Joe realized he wasn’t capable of spending time with Faith outside the station without his mind going in dangerous directions.

  Thankfully, the drive was a short one. When he turned into the lot, he spotted a small object reflecting light next to the building where the chief had passed out. He pulled up behind Peligni’s SUV and told Faith he was going to check it out.

  A cell phone was lying on the ground about a foot from the rough wood wall, and he bent to pick it up. When he straightened, Faith was right behind him. He ran into her, unaware that she’d followed. He turned and steadied her, and she took a step back.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “This your dad’s?” he asked, holding it out.

  She took it from him and glanced at the display. “That’s his.” She dropped it in the pocket of her sweatshirt. “He’s like an irresponsible teenager tonight.”

  At that instant, she looked unsure of herself. Just for a moment. Unsure and…so tired. And yet pretty and young with the moonlight illuminating her face. Her eyes darted around as she did her best to act as if nothing bothered her. He wanted to tell her it was okay to be bothered. Against his better judgment, he forced eye contact, feeling a jolt when she finally focused on him.

  “What?” she asked defensively. “I look like hell, I know. I was in bed when my dad called me—”

  “You don’t look like hell,” he said quietly, leaning closer to make the mistake of a lifetime and not giving a damn.

  He palmed her cheek. Touched her lower lip with his thumb, caressing the moist warmth of it. Felt her breath on his fingers as her lids grew heavy.

  A stray lock of her dark hair fell onto her cheek, and he brushed it back.

  “Joe.”

  It was barely more than a whisper. Definitely not a warning to back off. So he closed the space between them and gently kissed her lips, testing her. Tasting.

  The contact shot heat straight through his body. For a woman who was so tough on the outside, she was soft, feminine. Her scent was light, with a hint of flowers.

  She wound her hands behind his neck and pulled him closer. He should’ve guessed that even her kiss would be bold.

  He deepened the contact, thrusting his tongue between her lips. She tasted of sugar and confidence…and damn, what a turn-on. He pulled her slender body up against his, his hands resting at the point where her waist curved into her hips. Her body was firm, fit. Strong and lean. He imagined that body unclothed….

  Headlights illuminated them like a sudden spotlight on an auditorium stage, and they jumped apart. Faith ran her fingers over her lips, peering at the driver. The man, probably close to seventy years old, gave them an enthusiastic thumbs-up as he passed them.

  “He doesn’t know the least of it,” Joe said.

  Faith’s low, nervous laugh was gratifying. Alluring.

  “It’s late,” she said after a few seconds, sobering. “I need to check on my dad.”

  “I bet he hasn’t moved an inch.”

  They started toward their vehicles, and Joe pressed his hand to her lower back. His pulse was still hammering away, his body demanding more attention from this beauty, but his brain was now fighting it, letting in the message that this was a no-win situation.

  Joe walked her to the driver’s door of her dad’s Suburban without conscious thought. She turned toward him. “You didn’t have to walk me here. I’m fine.” Back to Miss Independent.

  He stole a glance at those lips of hers and was considering one last ill-advised taste when she broke the spell.

  “I hope it goes without saying that this can’t get out,” she said.

  “This?” he asked, surprised. “No. It’s private.”

  “I didn’t mean the kiss…but yes. That, too.” Realization flitted in her eyes, and he knew the moment her regret kicked in.

  “I meant my dad.” Faith made sure no one was within hearing distance. “No one needs to know about tonight. It was an isolated incident. Derek won’t say anything, will he?”

  Shaking his head, Joe moved back a few inches and straightened, willing the haze of desire to dissipate.

  She fidgeted with her keys, seeming uncharacteristically nervous, then hit the button to unlock the Suburban.

  “Gotta go.” She climbed in and closed the door, effectively shutting him out.

  FAITH MANAGED TO ACT as if everything was fine until she pulled into the garage at home.

  Everything was not fine. It was nowhere near fine.

  What had she done?

  She’d kissed her company officer. Her captain. A man who had power over her career.

  It wasn’t that Joe would use it against her. It was more about what others would think if they ever found out. What she thought of herself.

  And how Joe would treat her now.

  He already hovered, an
d would coddle her at a moment’s notice if she’d let him. She hadn’t yet figured out if it was because of her gender, her newness to the department or something else, but the last thing she wanted was for one of the other firefighters to notice Joe’s protectiveness.

  And kissing a man tended to arouse his protectiveness even more.

  If she could’ve chosen the best way to lose, or never gain, her colleagues’ respect, becoming involved—physically, romantically, stupidly—with one of the department captains topped the list.

  CHAPTER NINE

  FAITH COULD’VE USED about four more hours of sleep after the episode with her dad. Of course, lying in bed, going back and forth between beating herself up for what happened with Joe and playing their kiss over and over in her mind like some romantic airhead, didn’t help.

  As she walked across the apparatus floor for roll call, the buzz of energy she usually experienced at the sight of the equipment perked her up. She hoped they got an exciting gig or two today—something to keep her awake.

  “Look who it is,” Clay, one of the other fire fighters, said as Faith headed toward the four men already waiting.

  “How’d it go last night?” asked Cale, the lieutenant with short, spiky brown hair.

  Faith’s heart skipped two beats before she figured out they were addressing the guy behind her, Penn Griffin.

  Guilty conscience much?

  “Like I’d tell you bozos,” Penn said. His wide grin and the sparkle in his eyes revealed more than he intended, though.

  “How’s it going, Faith?” Clay said. She didn’t know him well, hadn’t worked many shifts with him, but his brown eyes seemed genuinely friendly.

  “Pretty good. How’s your baby?”

  “You’re thinking of Evan Drake. He’s the one with the baby.”

  She looked at the floor, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

  “Give Clay a little time and he’ll probably have a baby, too,” Penn said. “Right now his world revolves around a couple of women.”

  Faith raised her brows.

  “One of them is my four-year-old daughter,” Clay said, smiling. “And one of these days you’ll meet Andie, my wife.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  While they waited for the captain—Faith was forever doomed to be scheduled with Joe, it seemed—she wandered over to the truck and began opening compartments. She was usually assigned to the engine instead of the truck, but just in case, she needed to be familiar with the location of each tool, every piece of equipment at this station.

  She looked up automatically when Joe strode in carrying a clipboard. Their eyes met briefly, and though his lingered for an extra split second, they gave nothing away. She relaxed a little and quashed the flicker of excitement sparked by the memory of kissing him.

  She joined the group as Joe began calling out assignments for the day. Once again, she was on the engine with him. Was he taunting her? Messing with her?

  Just as well that he didn’t make changes to the norm, she supposed. Last night shouldn’t be cause for rearranging everything. She intended to go on as if nothing had happened.

  “Did anybody hear if we’re getting new radios yet?” Penn asked. “Mine’s crapping out. Can’t trust it anymore.”

  “You’re not alone,” Joe said. “Find a spare one and see if it’s any better.”

  “I thought Chief Peligni was going to order new ones,” Clay said.

  Faith tensed at the mention of her dad’s possible slipup and refused to look at Joe.

  “I’ll speak to him about it today,” Joe assured him.

  “He’s sick today.” Faith immediately regretted speaking up. Reminding everyone she was the chief’s daughter was not the brightest move. And there was no need to inform Joe that her dad hadn’t made it in—he’d find out soon enough.

  “He okay?” Cale asked. “I can’t remember the last time the chief was sick.”

  “He’ll be back tomorrow,” Faith said quickly, cursing in her head. Might as well just blurt out that he had the mother of all hangovers. She glanced around for Derek and was glad to see he wasn’t on duty today.

  She felt Joe’s gaze on her, questioning, wanting her to confirm that it was a case of brown bottle flu, but she made a point of ignoring him.

  “Get to work,” Joe said to everyone in his captain voice. “Faith, I need to speak to you.”

  She’d never been sent to the principal’s office, but suddenly had a decent idea of what it felt like. Attempting to hide her ridiculous nervousness, she took a few steps toward Joe.

  “In my office,” he said, nodding in that direction. “I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”

  Faith walked off the floor, annoyed that he’d called her out in front of everyone. Couldn’t he have quietly pulled her aside as she went about her assigned chores?

  Once in the office, alone, she crossed her arms and watched two of her colleagues out the window as they raised the flags for the day and picked up litter in the courtyard. Joe entered the room and closed the door with a soft click, startling Faith.

  “Why the closed door?” she asked, wondering for the first time if she was in trouble of some kind.

  He stopped directly in front of her, too close. His gray officer’s shirt stretched over the bulk of his shoulders and muscular chest. “I didn’t figure you wanted the whole department to hear our conversation about your father.”

  “He’s fine,” she said tersely.

  Joe stared down at her, so close she could see the pores of his recently shaved chin. She forced her eyes to his brown-black ones, fighting the temptation to sneak a glance at the sensual lips she’d tasted last night.

  “May I get through?” he asked, gesturing to the narrow path between the windowed wall and his desk.

  Faith practically jumped out of his way, feeling like an idiot for the direction of her thoughts, when all he wanted to do was walk past her.

  “I assume he’s still sleeping off last night?” Joe asked, pulling out his desk chair, but remaining on his feet. He leaned his fists on the clutter-free surface.

  There was no sense in lying. As out of it as her dad had been last night, it’d be nothing short of amazing for him to be up and functioning before noon and they both knew it. But instead of admitting that, she didn’t answer. Waited for the next, hopefully better question.

  “Are you doing okay?” he asked gently, and for some reason, that made it hard for her to swallow.

  “I’m fine.”

  Joe shook his head. “He’s fine. You’re fine. Everybody’s fine. What am I worried about?”

  “That’s my question.” She crossed her arms.

  “I’m not the bad guy here, Faith.”

  She noticed dark shadows under his eyes and realized he had to be as exhausted as she was. All because of her family’s problem.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right.” She wasn’t even convinced her dad was the bad guy. Right now wasn’t the time to assign blame, though.

  She sat in the chair in front of Joe’s desk, shoulders slumping, suddenly overcome by fatigue and…fear. “I don’t know what to do for him.”

  “He’s a grown man. Sometimes people have to help themselves.”

  “That seems kind of harsh.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” Joe said sternly. He walked around to the front of his desk and leaned against it, crossing his legs at the ankles. “I don’t know what to tell you, Faith. But you’re doing more than anyone else in your family just by being there for him. Staying with him. That’s a lot.”

  “My brothers all have busy careers. They think I’m overreacting, but they haven’t seen him. How off he is.”

  “The chief is glad to have you there.”

  “How do you know?” she asked, not entirely comfortable with the personal direction of the conversation. How close were Joe and her dad? Had they discussed her before? That didn’t sit well with her.

  “He doesn’t hide his opinion. He’s very proud of you.”

&
nbsp; Joe’s words made her squirm. She rose to her feet, intent on getting the heck out of there and back to the tedium of daily chores. She found herself close enough to catch his masculine scent.

  She stepped to the side, away from him. “What did you really call me in here for?”

  “FAITH…” Joe had been up all night trying to figure out how to broach this subject, and he still hadn’t thought of a good way.

  Her eyes narrowed warily.

  “I’m concerned about your dad.”

  Her shoulders stiffened and there was a decided change in the air. No longer were they officer and firefighter standing there, or even two people who’d shared a misguided but brain-numbing kiss last night. Now there was a current of adversity…her versus him.

  “He’s going through hard times,” she said. “But he’ll be fine.”

  Joe ran his fingers over his chin. “I know the separation from your mom is rough, but it’s starting to affect his work, Faith.”

  “Like I said, he’ll be back tomorrow.” She swallowed hard and studied the ground, looking for a moment like a little girl who’d lost her favorite teddy bear. So uncharacteristic of her.

  “He’s always been a model chief. Follows his own regulations to the letter. He’s prompt. Exact. Thorough.”

  She nodded. “It’s who he is.”

  “That’s why I’m worried. He’s been late recently. To meetings. To work. He’s let several issues go unaddressed….”

  “He’s not himself some days.”

  “I understand that, but…”

  “But what?”

  Joe didn’t know, exactly. “I can’t continue to ignore it. He’s in too important of a position. And now this…”

  “So you’re going to, what—tell on him? Who are you going to tell?”

  “I’m not going to tell anyone. Not right now. But I am going to keep an eye on him. If Mayor Romero needs a heads-up…”

  “What is this? The depression patrol? Maybe he is depressed, but that’s a health issue. Not a professional one.”

  Joe exhaled loudly, exasperated. “I’m just letting you know, Faith, that while I’m not going to say a word about carrying him to his bed last night, I don’t like that I seem to be repeatedly forced to keep Peligni family secrets. It puts me in one hell of an awkward position.”