Firefighter's Virgin

by Claire Adams

  I waited for the sympathy that I didn’t want. She displayed the same empathy that I felt for her, but there wasn’t a single trace of pity in her voice.

  Talking to her about it felt good. I liked that we were getting closer. Suddenly, not telling her about Harper started feeling like a lie. Worse yet, like I was ashamed of Harper. I wasn’t.

  I didn’t like sharing her with the world, and I wanted her life to be as normal as possible. So, I kept her out of the public eye as much as I could, but it was time to tell Gabrielle that she existed.

  “What’s wrong?” Gabrielle’s eyes were worried as she lifted her head from my chest. She’d folded her sunglasses on the towel next to her.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your body just tensed, and your heart started thumping so hard that I swear my head nearly bounced.”

  “There’s something else that I need to tell you.” This was it. I sat up and tugged her onto my lap, almost like I subconsciously wanted to be able to hold onto her if she decided to run once she learned the truth.

  “Okay.” She rested a hand on the back of my neck and locked our fingers together as she met my gaze dead on. “You can tell me anything.”

  “I have a daughter. Her name is Harper. She just turned 2.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gabrielle

  The words in the textbook propped open on the library table blurred and swam together as I entered my fourth straight hour of studying. I had a lot of work to catch up on, but I enjoyed the challenge. When I could see straight, that is.

  I had struggled for a long time that morning to get into it. I sat twisting my mother’s old wedding band that I wore on my index finger. It was a comforting feeling, and as absurd as it sounded, it made me feel like she was guiding me, in a way.

  James’s revelations from the day before kept playing in my head. I have a daughter. Her name is Harper. She just turned 2.

  I didn’t know the whole story yet, only that he was a single father. The mother wasn’t in the picture. James hadn’t seen her since she’d dropped the baby bomb on him and left him with a little girl who was only a few months old.

  We had stayed on my towel for a long time talking. He gave me what he had referred to as the “headlines.” It was kind of cute how nervous he’d become before he’d told me, how he had looked at me like I was a deer that he approached with caution, so as not to spook me away.

  Not that I could tell him that I thought he was cute. His head would probably explode, though his ego could handle it.

  I wasn’t saying that his confession hadn’t shocked me to my core, but I felt kind of honored that he’d told me. Almost like I was special to him.

  It was hard to imagine him as a father, especially to a baby girl, but he’d shown me some pictures on his phone. From what I’d been able to tell, he was a big softie when it came to her.

  A private smile played on my face as I closed my eyes and basked in the rays of mid- afternoon sunlight filtering in through the stained glass windows. It was almost the exact same time of day that James had come by the other day. The memories of what we’d done just a few yards from where I sat made an ache rise between my thighs.

  Heather’s voice yanked me from my dirty memories. I tried to smooth my features before she got too close to me. I still hadn’t come clean to her about James.

  “Gabbi,” she gushed. “It’s so good to see you in here again. I’ve missed your clutter!”

  We exchanged a quick hug; then she dropped the bulging bag she’d lugged up the stairs. I nodded towards it and laughed. “Yeah, me too.”

  “Who needs a good back later in life anyway?” It was a joke we’d often shared as we dragged our books back and forth on campus in college.

  “Not us, apparently.” I returned her grin and helped her unpack her haul, growing envious of how organized she already was. Her textbooks were flagged and marked with hundreds of colorful Post-its, and her summaries already had summaries.

  “I think I might be crazy for trying to catch up on all of this lost time.”

  She spread her things out into her own brand of organized chaos and then squinted up at me. “You’ll catch up fast if you keep going like you have been. There is no doubt in my mind about that. You’ve made your final decision, then?”

  When I’d first rejoined the study groups, I had explained to Heather that it was all part of keeping my options open and that I hadn’t made a final decision yet.

  “Yeah, I think I have.” My last conversation with James about it had strengthened my resolve.

  She squealed softly, then furiously looked around so as to apologize to anyone she might have disturbed. “Have you noticed that there is, like, not a single other soul in here except for us and old Mrs. Dunn downstairs? It’s kind of creepy.”

  “I noticed the other day, yeah.” I looked away so that she wouldn’t see the blush spreading on my cheeks.

  “You know what would be so fucking hot? To have sex in here.” She wriggled her eyebrows at me and giggled. “Do you think anyone has?”

  Oh God. Where was a good old earthquake when you needed one? Or a sinkhole that opened up to Middle-earth? I wasn’t about to be picky.

  I sank back into my seat and tried to hide behind the curtain of my hair, pretending to study my textbook intently. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been around for a while.”

  “Hmm, I guess so. It would be seriously exhilarating though.” She sighed dreamily as her eyes swept to the very row that James and I had disappeared into just a few days ago.

  My heart stammered in my chest. I reminded myself there was no way she could know. Absolutely no way.

  “Yeah, I’m sure it’s pretty damn hot, probably.” It absolutely was.

  I didn’t know what I was freaking out about anyway. Heather and I had talked about sex and the guys we dated plenty. She’d been my best friend for years, for Christ’s sake. At this point, I should be able to tell her anything.

  Something about whatever was going on between James and me made me want to keep it to myself. To keep him to myself. And I wasn’t entirely convinced that it was all about my father’s rules anymore, either.

  “So, back to the point,” Heather said. “What did you decide?” She looked so hopeful; I couldn’t help but give her my brightest smile.

  “I’m back in the game, baby!” I pumped my fist into the air. Heather launched herself at me and pulled me into what could only be described as a clumsy jump hug.

  “Oh, honey! I’m so happy for you!” She finally released me. “And for me, but mostly for you. Are you sure about this? Doing this for your father?”

  “I’m not doing it for him. I’m doing this for me. I’m sure about that now.” The best thing about it was that I really was sure I was doing it for the right reasons. It was truly the right thing for me.

  Heather’s eyes welled up with unshed tears, and she blinked them away. Absolute joy shined back at me. “I’m just so happy for you, friend. I was so worried about you for a minute or so back there.”

  Well, that was news to me. “Really? Why?”

  “You seemed so unhappy. So lost. I didn’t want to push you, but you were made to do this. You’ve been the most passionate person since the day that I met you. Then all that shit went down with your father, and I was afraid it was going to push you away from the thing you loved most.”

  My heart softened, and my resolve strengthened even more. It occurred to me that I’d never asked Heather for her honest opinion on what I should do. I should have. “It almost did, but I came around. The more I got back into it, the more I realized how much I missed it.”

  James had been instrumental in getting me back into it, but I kept that bit of information to myself. Although I still couldn’t quite figure out why I would.

  Heather nodded. “However it happened, I’m just happy that it did.”

  “So, without any further ado, should we get to it?” The books called to me from my desk. I really did ha
ve a lot of catching up to do.

  “Absolutely, let’s do it.”

  For the next couple of hours, that was exactly what we did. It was easy to fall back into my old routine with Heather. We’d study by ourselves for a while. Then, we’d do a couple of case studies together from practice questions and make notes as we identified areas we needed to revisit.

  We collapsed into giggles about some of the sets of facts the professors had come up with. We devised elaborate defense strategies that would never hold up in court.

  As the lights in the library flickered on and the sun started setting on the horizon, we packed it up for the day. Studying with Heather that afternoon had energized me in a way that I’d been missing like a lost limb. I was buzzing with it as my phone chimed in my bag.

  James smiled at me from the display. I had snapped the picture that first day that we’d been on the beach. He wore the confident smirk of a man who knew exactly how much the camera loved him.

  I silenced the phone, not wanting to answer in front of Heather. When I looked back at her, she studied me with a curious expression on her face. “Who was that?”

  “Just some guy that I’ve been talking to lately.” I played it cool, even though my heart raced as it always did when he called. My phone dinged with an incoming text, arousing her interest even further.

  James: How are you still studying?? When you’re ready for a break, I happen to be a great distraction ;-)

  That he was. I stashed my phone back in my bag. I would text him back later.

  A deep flush spread on my cheeks, and Heather had taken an intense interest. “Oh my, you’ve been holding out on me. Haven’t you?”

  “We’re just having fun. It’s nothing serious.” I wasn’t so sure that was entirely true anymore, though. Not for me, anyway. I had no idea what to think about what James might or might not be thinking about our situation.

  “Judging by the way you just blushed, you took me up on my idea of getting a sexy guy to distract you while you figured things out. Aside from Mr. Harry Potter, that is.” Her eyes sparkled, and her grin spread wide across her face. “And it seems he successfully managed to get you out of that brain of yours.”

  “Come on, Heather. Stop it, what are we? Sixteen?” I couldn’t hold back my laughter completely, though.

  “Okay, okay.” She threw her hands up in mock surrender. “For the record, I’m really happy that you met someone who can make you blush like that.”

  “The record shall reflect that you enjoy my embarrassment.”

  “It’s not embarrassment though; not only that, anyway. At this point of our friendship, I have no idea why you would be embarrassed about this sort of stuff unless…wait. Is he like, really ugly? Or really stupid?” Amusement shone in her wide eyes.

  “He is definitely neither of those things. I guarantee it.” I was kind of smug as I said it. James was seriously hot, and he was really intelligent.

  “Of course, he wouldn’t be. You would never hook up with a guy like that. I don’t know why you’re being so skittish about the details, but I trust you enough to tell me about it when you’re ready.”

  If I was being honest, I didn’t know why either. “Thanks, Heather. You’re the best.” I hugged her goodbye, and we loaded our books into our cars.

  “I know. Have you cooked him dinner yet?”

  I was mildly confused by her question. I wasn’t a bad cook, by any means, but I was no chef. “No, why?”

  Heather’s face lit up. “You know that old saying, that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach? Men love a woman who cooks for them.”

  I bit back a slightly sarcastic, possibly dirty retort, but then I realized that her advice actually made at least a little bit of sense.

  “That’s not a bad idea, Heather. Thanks, maybe I’ll do that.”

  “Let me know how it goes. Ciao, bella.” Heather was not Italian, not even a quarter or a fifth. Not at all. But every once in a while, she’d break out the farewell. It was one of the little quirks that I loved about her.

  “Thanks, I will.” A plan was already forming in my mind as I fastened my seat belt.

  Chapter Seventeen

  James

  “I was beginning to think that you’d gotten stuck in one of those big books of yours,” I said by way of greeting when Gabrielle returned my call the next morning.

  “It was a close call, but I managed to escape from it.” There was a nervous edge to her voice that I wasn’t sure I’d heard before.

  I hadn’t seen her since I’d told her about Harper, but we’d been speaking on the phone and texting, so nothing had changed. Not that I knew of, anyway.

  “Just so you know, I would’ve found the book and beat the shit out it until it let you go.” It was a joke, maybe not a good one, but even the shitty ones usually got at least giggle out of her. But this one got no response at all. Not even a groan. Something was going on. “What’s up?”

  “I, uh,” she hesitated. “I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my place for dinner tonight?”

  “You cooking?” Like that mattered. Wild horses weren’t going to stop me from going to her place and fucking her properly, and at my leisure for once.

  “Yeah, I was thinking that I would. Don’t get your hopes up too much. We might end up eating Chinese takeout.”

  Or I could just eat you. I bit my tongue; I was pretty sure that my cheesy line quota for the week had been filled. “Good thing that I love Chinese, then. What time?”

  “Is 6 good for you? Does that interfere with Harper’s routine? It doesn’t really matter so much to me. I just need to know when to get dinner started. I’ll be done at the library by 5.”

  I hesitated at how casually she had just mentioned Harper. Is she actually worried about my kid?

  Gabrielle was starting to become too good to be true. There had to be a catch somewhere, right? Maybe that’s what the nervousness was about.

  “No, 6 is fine. Harper’s at a friend’s birthday party. She’ll be wiped out by the time I pick her up, and Mrs. W. can put her to bed. Thanks for checking.”

  Thanks for checking? Fuck me.

  Gabrielle ignored my moment of insanity. She didn’t call me out on it, anyway. “Sure thing. I’ll see you at 6, then. Let me know if you need to make it later after you pick Harper up. I’ll text you my address.”

  “Yeah, I will. I’ll see you then. Hey, Gabbi.” I caught her just before she hung up.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m looking forward to seeing your place.” Especially your bedroom, I added to myself.

  “Yeah, yeah. Come hungry. I’m making one of my mother’s recipes.”

  And there I was thinking about her bedroom.

  You’re an asshole. I chided myself as she clicked off.

  I talked my cock down all day. We were atoning for our dirty thoughts by promising to be on our best behavior that night.

  Gabrielle cooking one of her mother’s recipes was important to her. I was relieved that she’d told me before I’d arrived so I didn’t make an ass of myself if I didn’t like the food.

  As I had predicted, Harper was exhausted when I picked her up from the birthday party. Mrs. W. cooked her an early dinner and assured me that she would call me if they needed anything.

  Then, she practically shooed me out of my own goddamn door when I told her that I was having dinner at a woman’s house. She ignored my protests that it was too early to leave. She told me that a gentleman showed up on time and waved me off.

  I ended up having to drive around Gabrielle’s neighborhood more than once to kill time until I remembered that I wasn’t a gentleman, and I sure as shit wasn’t going to drive around wasting time.

  I pulled up to Gabrielle’s place 10 minutes early. It was huge, even by my standards. She even had a porte cochere. Most people wouldn’t expect me to know what it was called. I’d have bet money on it.

  I parked underneath it and raised the brass knocker on her door. She ans
wered it quickly, looking like some kind of domestic goddess with her flour-covered apron and her hair pulled up in a loose bun. Tendrils of hair had escaped from it and framed her gorgeous face.

  She broke into a wide grin. “You’re early.”

  “Yeah, Mrs. W. might have gotten overly excited.”

  She gave me a chaste peck on the cheek and then stepped back, motioning me into her house.

  The design was unexpectedly similar to mine. Minus the toys and baby clutter, of course. Her place was done up in white and mint green, with professional-looking photographs lining the walls.

  Soft throws had been placed over her couches, and the bookshelves that lined her living room were with filled with books that looked like she’d actually read them. A dirty coffee mug sat next to a mystery novel on her coffee table.

  It was kind of endearing that she was willing to give me a peek into what she was like when she was alone, as opposed to having scrubbed the place cleaner than a hospital like so many other girls would have.

  “Smells amazing in here.” It really did.

  A slow flush spread on her cheeks as she took the compliment. “Thanks, I don’t make it as well as my mother did, but she got the recipe for paella on a trip to Spain, and she spent years perfecting it with ingredients that she could find here.”

  “Sounds like you got your determination and dedication from her.”

  A faraway smile played on her lips. “I guess so. Although you know as well as anyone how dedicated my dad is to his job.” The happy smile she had been wearing slipped from her face.

  As if it was the most natural thing in the world, I reached out and cupped her cheek. “That must be why you have it by the boatload.”

  She cracked a small smile. “Yeah, that has to be it.”

  With a deep breath, she collected herself and led me to the kitchen. A center island housed the oven and stove with a sleek aluminum light hanging above it.

  Several pots bubbled away, and a fresh loaf of bread sat on a cooling tray. I had to actively stop myself from drooling. We were definitely not getting takeout.