by Regina Cole
“You really want ice cream in this cold weather?” He hiked a brow at her as they climbed into her Audi TT.
“Since when do you care what the temperature is when it comes to ice cream?”
He grinned. “Since never.”
3
As Nate had expected, the urgent care wait had been just this side of interminable. Plenty of people were there with post-turkey-day hangovers, flus, and a couple of Black Friday pulled hammies. They were out of there just after midnight, with a shiny new brace and a pain prescription, after a promise to see the orthopedist come Monday. It looked like a sprain though, so he wasn’t too concerned.
Through the whole thing, Allison had been by his side. She’d helped him out of his suit jacket, unbuttoned his cuff for him and rolled up his sleeve, hell, even held his hat and coat while they took the X-ray. She was almost acting like—well, his girlfriend.
Now wouldn’t that be a kick in the ass, Nate thought as they pulled up to the all-night Sonic drive-in. Allison leaned out the window and pressed the button.
“Can we get two large, double-chocolate shakes?”
“That’ll be six sixty-five,” the speaker crackled.
Allison reached for the tiny clutch she’d been carrying, but Nate stopped her.
“I got this.” He pulled a ten-dollar bill from his pocket.
“They take credit cards here,” Allison said.
“Keep your plastic. They take paper too.”
She shook her head, but put her card away.
In the silence, they each watched as carhops with roller-skates delivered food and drink to the other vehicles lining the outside of the central kitchen building.
Was she regretting leaving the fundraiser to haul his sorry carcass to the doctor’s? Was she regretting sending him the invitation at all?
His decision hadn’t changed, but he wasn’t sure how to implement it. For now, the comforting blanket of friendship was over them, and he wasn’t all that eager to rip it back yet.
The carhop skated up then, interrupting his reverie.
“Here you go,” she said, handing over two huge Styrofoam cups. Allison passed his over.
“Keep the change,” Nate said, tipping his hat to the teenager.
“Thank you,” she said, tucking the money into her waist apron and skating away with her tray.
“Straw?”
He nodded his thanks, and soon the cool, creamy milkshake was sliding down his throat.
“How long have we been doing this?” Allison said, poking the thick shake with her straw.
“Hmm,” Nate said, licking his lips as he thought. “I think the first time I brought you here was when I got my new pickup, senior year. Remember?”
“Oh God,” she said, laughing aloud, that beautiful, bell-like sound that shoved pure razors into his chest. “I can’t ever forget that. Beezer came with us.”
Nate grinned. Beezer had been his dad’s best hunting dog, until Nate had adopted him from out of the pack. Once the old hound had figured out that sleeping on the foot of Nate’s bed was much more fun than chasing up a rabbit in the woods, that dog had never hunted again. “Good old Beez. He was a good dog.”
Dad was still rippin’ pissed about that, and the dog had been dead for years. Outside of his horses, his dogs were his favorite things on the ranch, and Nate had grown up knowing that Dad’s word was law when it came to them. But he hadn’t had any pull as far as Beezer was concerned.
“Good dog? Beezer stuck his tongue in my shake, and I didn’t have money with me for another one, so you swapped with me and you drank it anyway.”
Nate just shrugged. “A little dog slobber never hurt anything.”
Allison laughed a little at that, and they both fell silent, nursing their frozen treats as the Audi’s heaters blew warm air onto their feet.
“You’ve been looking out for me for much too long now,” Allison said, a serious note in her voice. Nate looked over at her as she continued. “I don’t know that I’ve ever thanked you.”
“If the shoe were on the other foot, you would—”
“Stop diminishing what you do for me, please.” A sharp note had entered her voice, and she set her shake in the cup holder.
His spine prickled, the change in her demeanor urging him to set down his own dessert and face her.
“Burt was all wrong for me. I met him when I was still raw after my breakup with Corey—”
“Another rat bastard,” Nate grumbled. Allison shot him a look, but continued anyway. A long time ago, he’d learned to keep his opinions of her boyfriends to himself, but that didn’t mean it was easy, or that he was perfect.
“I wanted to make up for my failures with Corey, and I thought maybe Burt was the way to do that. I was wrong. Where Corey said he didn’t need me, Burt needed me too much, and he needed more than I could give. Corey and Burt were both huge mistakes. And the guys who came before them weren’t any better. You’ve been there for me, even though I’m an idiot when it comes to the men I get involved with. But you don’t have to worry about that anymore. I’m done with men. Seriously, done. Never going to date, never getting married, just completely finished with the whole shebang.”
She looked down and sniffed then, and panic flooded Nate’s heart. God. Allison didn’t cry. What the hell was he supposed to do if she cried? Should he call somebody? Her mother? No, the woman didn’t look like she’d know what the hell to do with a teardrop either.
Fortunately, someone was smiling down on him that day, because her cheeks were dry when she looked his way again.
“I guess, all I’m trying to say is, thank you.”
“Allison,” he said, trying like hell to find words. Words weren’t his thing. He was a doer, not a talker. But sometimes words were necessary, and this was one of those times.
She had to hear what was in his heart, and it was now or never.
“Ally, you’re too good. Too kind. Too strong. I’m there for you because of who you are, not what you’ve done. You care, and you work hard, and you’re so, so strong.”
“I’m not,” she protested. “I’m stubborn, and foolish, and I—”
“Stop it,” he said, and then she was leaning toward him and Nathaniel Abraham York forgot his own damn name.
Those full, red lips were slightly pursed, and her sooty lashes had fluttered closed. The console was between them, but if he leaned forward another three inches, there’d be no space for the Holy Spirit in between his mouth and hers.
He stood at a crossroads, and had no idea which way to turn.
His heart was screaming Yes! But his head was wondering if he did this, if he acted on the one thing he’d been longing for ever since he’d clapped eyes on this woman so many years ago, would he lose her?
But Allison was there, closing the gap between them, making up his mind for him on the spot.
He leaned that last inch between them and pressed his lips to hers.
Softness.
Heat.
Gentleness.
Those were the sensations that swirled through his brain as his lips touched Allison Kurtz’s for the first time.
It was different than he’d imagined it so many times in the past. In her day-to-day life, in business, in conversation, Allison took charge. She was decisive, energetic, forceful.
Her kiss? Raw. Open. Hesitant, but oh, so ready. Her lips were parted, but she let him move his mouth on hers, staying still, waiting for his cues. And oh, was he ready to give them.
His left hand crept up to bury itself in the hair at her nape, fingers tangling in the exquisite softness as he slanted his lips over hers. His tongue probed at the parted seam, and she opened for him, letting him taste her deeply.
A soft groan escaped her, and the unintentionally erotic sound dived straight into his pants and jerked him to attention.
More. He wanted more. Damn, he was a greedy bastard, but this wasn’t enough.
His tongue went deeper, tasting the depths of her mou
th. She tasted of chocolate and cream, delicious. Her lips molded to his, her fingers curling into the lapels of his jacket. God, the idea that she wanted this—wanted him—it was enough to make him wish this damn sports car had a back seat worth a damn, because they’d be back there so fast the damn carhops’ heads would spin.
But he’d been waiting for her for so long, and he’d be damned if their first time was crammed in the tiny backseat of her fucking Audi.
Longing was a helluva hangover, and he was feeling it as he broke that kiss.
She blinked at him then, as if clearing the remnants of a dream.
“I—um, yes. Thank you.”
She reached for her shake and stuck the straw in her mouth. If he hadn’t been watching her closely, he might have missed the tremble in her hands.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That had been—unexpected. He willed his blood to cool, his body to calm the hell down. As his erection flagged in his pants, he let himself wander through the questions in his brain.
There were lots of places that kiss might have come from, for her. Gratitude at the way he’d punched Burt’s lights out. Throwing him a bone, because somehow she knew he’d been pining for her for his whole damn life. An early Christmas present, because he was the charity case she’d chosen this year.
But honestly, did it matter?
He’d spent so long by her side without asking for anything. And maybe… Maybe this was the sign he’d wanted. The glaring neon “Come get me, tiger,” he’d prayed to one day receive.
Maybe good things came to those who waited, but better things came to those who had the balls to ask for them.
“Old Beezer,” he said, reaching for his shake. He took a long pull on the straw as he prepped what to say next. “I’ve been thinking about getting another pup. It gets lonely out there in the garage without a four-legged critter to pass me the socket when I need it.”
“Oh, yeah?” Allison said, some of her usual energy seeming to have returned. She smiled. “I’m glad to hear you say that. It doesn’t seem right to have a Cowboy without a hound dog.”
“Think your friend Everly might be able to help us find one?”
It was a calculated risk. Everly Pitts, the director of Hopeful Paws Pet Adoption, had utilized Firehouse Three’s male members for a bachelor auction fundraiser back in the spring, which, of course, Allison had organized. Pro bono, that one was. Just because Allison did that kind of thing. Said it was good for business, and good karma too.
Allison very well might say sure, and send him there on his own. But he was hoping he could score her assistance without having to come right out and ask for it.
He really had been considering it anyway. But a Christmas puppy might just be a great way to convince her to spend some time with him—time he’d use to show her that he was also cute and cuddly and worth scratching behind the ears.
“I’m sure she’d love to,” Allison said. She pulled out her phone, but frowned at the time. “I’ll text her tomorrow. When’s your next full day off? We can go together.”
Nate’s grin spread from his heart, to his face, then all the way down to the tips of his toes.
“Tuesday. I’m off Tuesday.”
* * *
When she cut the engine in front of Nate’s house, her hands were cold, and it wasn’t from the weather.
That kiss. She’d leaned in, but he’d kissed her like he meant it. She’d wondered what it might be like to kiss Nate, of course, but then the memory of being rejected without a word said had reminded her that something between them wasn’t ever likely to happen.
But it had. Just a little while ago. And she didn’t know what the hell to do with that information.
“Thanks for the ride,” he said, releasing his seatbelt.
“You sure Kyle can take you to pick up your truck at the hotel tomorrow?”
“Yeah, he hit my text right back. He’ll be around about eleven, and then I can pick up the Ford.”
Allison laughed a little. “Push comes to shove, and you can always drive one of the clunkers.”
Nate smiled back. “True.”
Silence stretched between them. And then he turned to her, and the light in his eyes shot a thrill down to the pit of her stomach.
“Good night,” he said, and then he brushed his lips against—her cheek.
Disappointment sank her back against the driver’s seat as he exited the car.
“Come on,” she said to herself as she cranked the engine and he disappeared into the house. “Get going.”
Down the driveway and out onto the road, her brain was numb. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel as she waited for a stoplight to turn green.
Before that little good-night brush of his lips on her cheek, they’d kissed. Not a sweet, gentle peck, either. A real, toe-curling, panty-scorching, make-out warm-up kind of kiss. But he’d pulled away, suddenly, abruptly, and ended it. And then when she’d hoped for a very different kind of good night kiss, he’d kissed her like a friend.
Her body throbbed with remembered desire, and she clamped down on that feeling like it was dangerous.
Which it was.
“Just gratitude,” she chided herself. “You were thankful for his help, and he was thankful that you drove him to the doctor. Just mutual gratitude, and the relief that the whole thing’s over.”
But for some reason, she didn’t believe it. Not really. There had been too much response from him, too much joy from her.
She wasn’t falling for him again, was she?
Shaking her head as she exited her car inside her garage, she gripped her keys tighter.
Nope. She’d sworn off men. And Nate was too important to her to ruin with her kind of relationship. The sort that flared bright for a year or so, and then went down in a spectacular death spiral.
If Nate weren’t in her life? She’d be a sad, lonely woman. He was too important to risk.
Her phone chimed as she entered the darkened kitchen, and the glowing screen cast pale blue light on her hands.
Things went great. Don’t worry. Will fill you in on the details Monday.
“God bless you, Deb,” she said as she turned on the lights.
Her assistant was worth her weight in gold. Allison would always be a control freak, needing to oversee the details of each of her projects, but having someone who was just as driven and dependable as herself as an assistant had enabled her to expand the business. If Deb kept this up? Allison could see making her a partner. But as good as Deb was, she hadn’t been there that many months yet. They needed to work together a little longer before Allison could make that kind of commitment.
She snorted as she yanked open the fridge. Commitment. Yeah, that was a word she was fully, unashamedly phobic of these days.
As her hand closed around the neck of a bottle of Pinot, she spied the six-pack of longnecks with red and white labels she kept in the corner.
Nate’s favorite. He swore that no matter how many fancy microbrews she bought him, nothing would taste better than good old Bud.
Feeling a little ridiculous, she reached for one. Her hand closed around the smooth, cold glass of the neck. The kssht sound of the bottle opening was an audible hug.
Memories flooded her as she took a long sip. Summer afternoons during her college break spent in Nate’s garage on his parents’ ranch, watching him work on whatever engine he’d been trying to rebuild at the time. Once or twice, he’d tried to show her what he was doing. She’d listened, but honestly, she didn’t care. For her, being there with him was about keeping things fun, and simple.
“I can’t screw this up,” she whispered to herself. The bottle clinked atop the counter as she set it down. “I can’t lose Nate.”
Her heart felt curiously cold as she finished the beer and kicked off her shoes on the way to her huge, empty bedroom.
What had happened tonight couldn’t happen again. She’d made a pass at him, and he’d pulled away as soon as he reasonably could
. Pretending his response was anything other than politeness was dangerous. She’d dodged a bullet, and she couldn’t risk it again.
No matter what ridiculousness her heart spouted, she’d keep it to herself. After all, the traitorous organ had done enough damage in the past.
She wasn’t letting Nate become yet another casualty of her misbegotten love life.
He was too good for that.
4
Monday night couldn’t come fast enough for Nate. He’d had his whole twenty-four-hour shift at the firehouse to manage before he could make it to the doc’s office. At least there was some good news there. He’d managed to get away with a sprain, not a break, and it was improving enough that he could dispense with the pain-in-the-ass brace, as long as he was careful with his hand.
Then, and only then, was it time to meet up with Allison for their usual beer and chat.
At Sparky’s, the bar closest to the firehouse and a favorite haunt for most of the crew, Nate was sipping a Bud and thinking about her while he waited for her to show.
He’d replayed that kiss in his head about seventeen times an hour since last night. At first he’d been convinced it had to be a dream. But no, he pinched himself and could still remember it vividly, down to the sweet taste of chocolate on her tongue.
Bruce Springsteen’s “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” started up, and Nate smiled down into the ring of condensation his longneck had left behind on the bar top.
Tomorrow, she’d help him pick out a pup. Hell, it’d been years since old Beezer had kicked it. He’d not wanted another dog right away, but it felt like the right time now.
He’d been alone long enough. And if doing this meant Allison would be encouraged to spend a little more time with him—because who could resist puppy breath?—all the better.
“Hey, there, Cowboy,” said a familiar voice, and Nate turned his head.
Kyle Winters and Ty Maxwell, both members of the Firehouse Three crew, had entered and were bellying up to the bar beside him.
Nate greeted them with a hat tip, and went back to sipping his beer.
