Light Up The Night: A Bad Boy Firefighter Novel

by Parker, Weston

  Kylee nodded. She was exhausted. I smiled and closed the back door. I got in the driver’s seat and started up the SUV. I checked the rear-view mirror. Kylee’s eyes were already closed as I reversed out of my parking space.

  She must have had a busy day. Hanging out with the firefighters must have tuckered her out. All that excitement was just too much.

  * * *

  I woke Kylee up when we got home and carried her into the house from the driveway. I didn’t want her to nap because I knew if she did, she would never fall asleep at night, and tomorrow morning would turn into an agonizing process.

  So I made sure to get her talking as soon as we got home about something exciting: the firemen, of course.

  We unpacked her school bag and her lunch box together, and she told me all about what they did in school that day. She made sure to tell me how much fun she had during the presentation in the gymnasium. She also told me that Hayden did all of the talking, and the other two firemen sat quietly and listened like they were students too.

  “What was the best part?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. She was absolutely going to say turning the sirens on.

  But her answer had nothing to do with the sirens, the horn, or the lights. “When Hayden helped me after I fell and scraped my knees.”

  I felt my eyebrows creep up my forehead as I zipped up her now empty lunch kit and tucked it on top of the fridge. “Really?”

  “Yep. He was super nice. And it only stung a little bit.”

  “He said you were pretty tough. Like a big girl.”

  Kylee flashed me a brilliant smile. “He did?”

  I nodded. “Absolutely. I think he was impressed with you. There’s not many kids your age who can have antiseptic put on a cut and not even flinch. It hurts grownups sometimes.”

  “I trusted him.”

  I leaned on the island in the kitchen where she was sitting. “You did, did you?”

  Kylee nodded. “Yep. He’s super nice. And really funny.”

  “He is.”

  “You know, Mommy,” Kylee said, her forehead bunching up as she thought hard, “Nelson never came and helped me up when I fell. But Hayden did. And he made sure I was okay. I don’t think I like boys anymore.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  She shook her head, and loose strands of hair fell around her face. “Nope. I don’t. I want a boyfriend like Hayden.”

  I felt my eye twitch. Of course she did. She was getting too smart for her own good. “Well, maybe one day you will find one. There are plenty of nice boys out there.”

  “I don’t like boys, Mommy,” she reminded me, stressing the word “boys” dramatically.

  “Right,” I said cautiously. “There are a lot of nice people out there, and one day you will find someone for you that is just like Hayden.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  I nodded. “I know so. And, lucky for you, you still have a ton of time to find them. You can play and have fun and do everything you want to do and keep an eye out for this person.”

  After the conversation, Kylee went and watched some cartoons. I caught her almost dozing off on the couch and called her into the kitchen about an hour later to help me make the quesadillas. We grated the cheese, and I chopped the vegetables; peppers, onions, and jalapenos for me.

  Kylee spooned sour cream and salsa into small dishes as I cooked small slices of chicken in a pan. Once they were cooked, I placed them on the tortilla shells, and we covered our own quesadillas with the toppings we wanted. We loaded them up with cheese, and when they were nice and stuffed, I tucked them in the oven.

  “I’m starving,” Kylee groaned.

  “Fifteen minutes, kiddo, and we’ll be sitting down to eat. Why don’t we set the table, and then we’ll wash our hands. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Kylee nodded.

  We went about getting ready for dinner, and before we knew it, we were both sitting down to our meal. Kylee talked more about Hayden and how nice he was, and I desperately tried to change the topic. I didn’t need my five-year-old daughter constantly reminding me of how great the guy was. I was already having a difficult enough time trying not to think about him as it was. His bright brown eyes haunted me when I got lost in my daydreams, and I couldn’t stop wondering what his body was like under that tight T-shirt of his.

  After dinner, we loaded the dishwasher and filled it with soap. I ran it and did a quick clean of the kitchen, and then asked Kylee to run the water for her bath.

  She hurried down the hall and started her bath.

  We’d perfected it to get it just how she liked it. She knew how to set it up just right. She made sure the temperature was warm, and she poured three capfuls of kids’ strawberry bubble bath in the water. Then she turned on the bathroom fan and ran into her bedroom to grab her favorite PJs.

  I met her in the bathroom, and we both sang Disney songs while she washed up.

  After drying her off, she got dressed in her PJs, and we carried on with our nightly routine. She brushed her teeth, and I brushed out her wet hair. She wanted to wear it in a bun the next day, so I twisted it into a tight knot on top of her head and used a soft scrunchie to keep it in place.

  Then we went to her bedroom, and she climbed into bed, where I read her favorite story. She dozed off by the time I made it halfway through. Instead of closing the book and leaving, I finished it off and sat with her for a couple minutes.

  I smiled to myself, thanking my lucky stars for my amazing daughter, and kissed her forehead. I stood up, tucked her in, and crept quietly out of the room. I was under strict orders never to close her bedroom door all the way, so I left it open by a couple inches and padded softly down the hall to the kitchen, where I put the kettle on to boil water for tea.

  As it steeped, I helped myself to two shortbread cookies from the pantry and placed them on a throwaway floral napkin. When the tea was good and dark, I stirred in some milk and sugar and took my mug and my cookies into the living room.

  My book, a romance adventure novel, was lying facedown on the table beside the sofa. I picked it up and buried my nose in it while I dipped my cookies mindlessly in my tea.

  This was my sacred time where I could decompress, and as I read, I caught myself imagining that the hero of the book I was reading looked just like Hayden.

  You’re losing it, Mel, I said to myself. But I still pictured him, and it made the story that much better.

  11

  Hayden

  I bent over and peered into the depths of my nearly empty fridge. All that was in there was a door full of condiments, a jar of pickles, a bottle of milk, and some random vegetables in the bottom drawer. No meat.

  Most definitely nothing suitable to cook for dinner.

  I checked my pantry just in case. I could heat up some soup. Or some canned pasta.

  I frowned and scratched at my freshly shaved chin. None of this would do. My stomach was rumbling, and I needed something substantial.

  It was obvious. I’d only be satisfied with a full free meal from Mel at The Glade. I wondered if Mel would raise an eyebrow for coming in to redeem the free dinner she’d offered me the night after seeing to Kylee’s scrapes.

  I shrugged and closed the pantry. So what if she did?

  I glanced at the clock. I would definitely be pushing my luck. The restaurant closed in half an hour, and it was a fifteen-minute drive from my house.

  There was no time to delay. As I headed out the door, I plucked my keys from their hook. I pulled out of the garage and sped off down the street in the direction of The Glade, my mouth already watering at the thought of a nice piece of juicy steak.

  When I parked the truck in the parking lot behind the restaurant, I could see that most of the customers had already left. There were only six cars there, and I knew at least half of them had to belong to staff. I might already be too late.

  Wasting no more time, I hopped out of the truck and hurried around the side of the restaurant to the beach
front access. The patio furniture had been neatly tucked against the front windows and stacked, and the same redheaded hostess who had greeted the boys and me a few nights ago was sweeping sand off the stone.

  She looked up at me and smiled. “Hi. Sorry, we are closing in about fifteen minutes.”

  I’d tempted fate. “It’s all right. I can come back another night.”

  The front door opened, and I looked up to see Mel standing there. She was holding the door open with one arm as she gestured me in with the other. “Come on in, Hayden. I can fix you something to eat.”

  “You sure? I don’t mind coming back another night. I sort of lost track of time and—”

  “I’m sure. Don’t worry about it. Just don’t let any other customers see me letting you in, or they’ll think they can break the rules too.”

  I smiled and ducked inside. Mel told the girl sweeping not to let anyone else in and said that once the patio was done she could go home. The girl thanked her and kept sweeping as the door closed behind us.

  Mel took me up to the bar and gestured for me to have a seat. I sat.

  “Want a drink?” she offered.

  “Water is fine,” I said.

  Mel put a hand on her hip. “It’s free, you know? Whatever you want.”

  “Nah. Water’s good. You never know when a call might come in and you’ll need a clean head.”

  “Oh. Well that makes sense. Water it is.” Mel filled a glass with some ice and topped it with water, and then she slid it in my direction. “What do you want to eat? Anything you want. I can cook everything on the menu.”

  “Seriously?”

  She nodded. “Yes, seriously. They’re all my recipes. It says so right on the front of the menu. Don’t you read?”

  I smirked. “Not unless I’m told to.”

  Mel gave me a crooked smile that had me thinking all kinds of things about her plump lips. They looked incredibly soft, like two fluffy pink pillows perfect for—

  “So, what will it be?” she asked.

  I licked my own lips a little nervously. “Oh. Uh. You know what? Let’s just do the same old steak and potatoes.”

  “You got it. Peppercorn sauce?”

  “As much as you are up to sharing.”

  Mel chuckled. “All right. I’ll be right back. I might whip something up for myself too. I haven’t eaten yet.”

  I paused as I lifted my water to my mouth. “So we’re eating together?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Like a date?”

  Mel scowled, but there was a twinkle in her eyes. A promise of something light and fun and… flirty. Interesting. “Not a date. A thank you for taking care of my little girl.”

  “Right. Right. Got it. Not a date.”

  Mel disappeared through the back doors into the kitchen, leaving me alone. I could hear her laughing with the late night staff, and a couple of them came out and tossed their aprons in a basket beside the door. They smiled at me before walking out of the restaurant.

  This happened a few times over the next fifteen minutes or so. Mel made sure to keep popping her head out to check on me or ask if I needed anything. I was content to sit on my own and entertain myself. I always had things on my mind worth thinking about, like her lips—and the rest of her.

  All the staff had cleared out except for Mel when she came out of the back with two steaming plates. She set one down in front of me and one in the open space beside me. Then she walked around the bar and got up into the stool on my left-hand side. She reached over the bar and grabbed us cutlery and napkins.

  “Dig in,” she said.

  I took my first juicy bite and closed my eyes to savor it. “I’m not trying to be a kiss ass, but you make it better than the chef does.”

  She smiled down at her plate and took a bite. “I love cooking.”

  “And it loves you. Damn, that’s good.”

  I noticed the way her cheeks turned pink. “Thank you.”

  We ate in silence for a couple more minutes. She chewed delicately and dabbed her lips after a couple bites, then rested the napkin across her knee. She was a slow eater, which I didn’t mind because it meant I got to spend more time sitting with her. I took slow bites and smaller portions than usual to prolong the moment.

  “So,” I said after a couple minutes, “where’s Kylee tonight?”

  Mel chewed and swallowed her bite of food and then washed it down with a sip of water. “She’s with Tara. Tara is the tall blonde girl who works here. She’s like an aunt to Kylee.”

  “And she’ll be fine watching her a bit later?”

  “Yes,” Mel said slyly. “Usually the restaurant doesn’t wind down so early on a Friday night anyway. She won’t expect me home for another hour or so.”

  So I had more time with her than I thought, if she would allow it, of course.

  “Kylee is a cool kid,” I said after finishing my last bite. I leaned back and rested my cutlery on my empty plate.

  Mel nodded. “I know. I don’t know where she learns it from. She’s crazy smart. And I realize all parents say this about their children, but I really believe she’ll be walking circles around me in no time.”

  I chuckled. “Maybe.”

  Mel laughed as she looked up at me and covered her mouth with one hand. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  I shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, no problem. I’m not going to lie to you. That girl of yours is clever. And tough. She wouldn’t have even shed a tear if Ms. Moony hadn’t panicked.”

  Mel’s eyes widened as if in surprise, and she nudged my upper arm with her shoulder. “I know, right? That teacher… she’s a nice woman. Quite nice. But I think sometimes she helicopter parents, you know? Which might work for some people but not for me. I want Kylee to grow up knowing she’s capable of fixing all her own problems on her own.”

  “I respect that.”

  Mel bit her bottom lip and put her cutlery down. “Don’t tell Ms. Moony.”

  I chuckled and shook my head. “I’d never throw you under the bus like that. Not after you prepared this meal for me. I have some class. Come on now.”

  “Thanks.”

  When Mel was done eating, I took her plate away from her and slid off my barstool. She watched me curiously as I walked around the bar.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “Dishes.”

  I saw her hop off her own stool as the back door swung shut behind me. She came in after me a couple seconds later, and I brought the dishes over to the sink. There was a little scrubby in one corner and an industrial bucket of dish soap on the other with a pump in it. I turned on the hot water and started washing.

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that. We have an industrial dishwasher over there.” Mel pointed to the far corner.

  “For a couple plates and knives and forks? It’s all good. This will only take a second.”

  “Well,” she said, sounding a little flustered, “at least let me help you. Here. I’ll dry them.” She reached in front of me and grabbed the dish towel hanging off the front of the aluminum sink. Her knuckles grazed the front of my jeans.

  She froze, and her eyes widened a little. “Sorry.”

  “For what?” I asked, playing it off like I hadn’t noticed. She looked mortified. The wide-eyed expression was adorable, which I would not say aloud to her. “Come on, boss. Get to drying.” I handed her the first washed plate.

  She took it and swirled her towel over it to dry it before placing it off to the side. When she turned back to me to take another plate, our fingers grazed each others. She slowly lifted her light blue eyes to meet my gaze.

  Those perfectly plump lips of hers were slightly parted, and I heard the softest breath escape between them. She didn’t blink—didn’t even move—as I turned to face her. The plate was still in my hand. I slid it into the sink and reached up to cup her cheek in my hand. There were still little bubbles of soap on my fingertips, but damn it all, I wanted to kiss her.

  I
needed to kiss her.

  She didn’t deny me. Her lips sealed over mine, and she inhaled a deep breath as I wrapped my other hand behind her back and drew her closer. Her lips were salty from the dinner, and she smelled like roses.

  I forced myself to pull away when I realized how far I was pushing the woman. She’d told me she didn’t want to go on a date, so I could safely assume she didn’t want me kissing her either.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what I was—”

  She reached up and grabbed the front of my shirt with both hands. Her fingers curled into fists in the black fabric, and she pulled me back down to meet her lips again. This time, they parted, and her tongue slid along mine.

  I wrapped both arms around her small waist and pulled her against my body. Her breasts pressed into my chest, and I was consumed with the desire to start undoing the buttons of her white blouse.

  12

  Mel

  What the hell am I doing?

  I had my tongue buried in Hayden’s mouth, and his was swirling around inside of mine, and I was clinging to his shirt like I might be blown away if I let go. I was doing everything I knew I shouldn’t.

  And it felt amazing.

  His hands were clasped behind my back, and he had pulled me up tight against his body. His muscles pressed into me, and I didn’t think about what I was doing as I released the top of his shirt to lower my hands and pull the hem of it out from his black pants.

  He chuckled into my mouth.

  The vibration of his laughter in his chest made my heart flutter. It had been two years since a man touched me like this, and even then, it hadn’t been this good. It had been a little messy because we were both drunk. Drunk sex was fun, sure, but it wasn’t anything like this—and we weren’t even fucking. We were only kissing.

  And I was undoing his belt.

  What had come over me? I was powerless to him. All I knew was I needed to get his clothes off, and then I needed to get my clothes off, and then I needed to have him inside me. All I was doing was executing my plan.