by Anne Marsh
Or so he’d heard, because here he was, his ass stuck inside the ambulance, watching shit through the windshield. He drummed his fingers on the wheel. In addition to being inside instead of outside, he was also parked at a safe distance. Go him. Undoubtedly the Bubble Wrap came next.
When Ben Cortez strode over and tapped on the window, he rolled it down gratefully. Maybe there was something for him to do after all. Broad-shouldered and grizzled, Ben had devoted his life to singlehandedly building a fire department in Strong.
Ben didn’t waste time on chitchat. Of course, he was also playing a meaningful role at the fire scene, unlike Kade, who was purely decorative. “You got your Firefighter 1?”
He’d gone to firefighter academy the year before he’d joined the SEALs. He’d planned to test for the San Francisco Fire Department, but then he’d changed his mind and gone for smoke jumping instead. Once he’d deployed, he’d spent his annual thirty days leave from his SEAL unit jumping because he’d loved the adrenaline rush of jumping so much. Going back to a firehouse, feet stuck to the ground? That had been the last thing that he’d wanted.
“It’s not shiny new, but yeah, I’ve got my certification.”
The older man nodded. “You’ve been helping out at the station since you landed.”
Inactivity made him go stir-crazy. He’d had months of that after his Khost incarceration, and his new motto was never again. As soon as he’d hit Strong, he’d purchased a string of run-down rental cabins with some of his enlistment bonuses, but that was a weekend renovation project and more than halfway done. He wasn’t sure what he’d do when he finished.
“You’re back for good.” Ben made the words a statement, not a question.
Kade patted his knee. “One souvenir’s enough.”
“Heard about that.” Ben watched as the garden shed gave up the ghost, the roof caving in with a shower of sparks. “Roof’s going.”
For a long moment, they both stared at the fire truck and the guys manning the hose. Kind of like watching fireworks or hanging at a barbecue, he decided, and that made him think of Abbie and their marshmallow roast. Leaving her had been the last thing he wanted to do, but she’d been married to a firefighter. She knew what the job demanded.
“Almost out,” Ben said casually.
“You’ve got a good team,” he said, meaning it. Ben had built the Strong fire station from the ground up and had only just moved the guys into the newly renovated historic firehouse.
“Yeah.” Ben nodded, like he was coming to some conclusion only he could see. “That’s why I’d like you to join us.”
Whoa. Kade hadn’t seen that one coming. He knew he should be honored, because dollars were tight and Ben hadn’t added headcount in at least a year. But fuck, he wasn’t a stationhouse guy. He didn’t fight fire from a truck. He jumped. That was what he’d always done, what he’d come home to do.
He kept his hell, no to himself. Barely. It was true that the majority of smoke jumpers quit eventually because of bad knees. Or because of broken ankles, torn ligaments, and other souvenirs from bad landings. Ben’s assumption wasn’t a bad one—but it was wrong. He’d be jumping this week. Next week at the latest.
“Don’t answer me now,” Ben said, pushing off the truck. “Think about it. Let me know in a couple of weeks.”
“I jump,” he said, because there was no other way to put it.
“Your souvenir may make that impossible,” Ben said agreeably.
Impossible wasn’t part of Kade’s vocabulary. As soon as Ben said the word, Kade heard it in stereo, his father and his uncles all yelling nonstop in his head. They didn’t acknowledge anything as impossible. They were SEAL and law enforcement, smoke jumpers and hotshots. The word wasn’t in their vocabulary. It shouldn’t be in his.
It wasn’t, he told himself. EMT was a temporary bump in the road while he waited for the doctors to fall in line and Donovan Brothers to realize where he belonged. Which was somewhere four thousand feet above the mountains, parachuting out of a DC-3.
Sparks crackled as the remnants of the garden shed settled. If he stayed here, he’d be as pathetic as the guy with the green hose.
“Thanks for the offer,” he said, trying to mean it. “But my knee’s fine.”
Chapter Eight
The sun was already setting by the time Kade texted Abbie. She knew the firefighters were back, because she might possibly have driven past the station house once. Or twice. A gal had to get groceries, and then if she’d forgotten something, she had to go back. Twice had been her limit, and then she’d retreated to her cottage. She’d asked him for sex. The next move was all his.
Still, when her phone vibrated, she practically launched herself across her tiny living room to grab it. Sure enough, it was Kade. She didn’t know why she felt so surprised. Despite his bad-boy exterior, he was a decent guy. He’d said he’d text her, so he would.
Bonjour. I’m done working. She had no idea how to interpret those last three words.
That makes it Miller time she typed back, wondering if she should google sexy comebacks instead of reciting commercials. A beer sounded awesome right about now, but the peanut was still underage. Sometimes, pregnancy really sucked.
His answer was almost immediate. Does that mean you have beer?
Two trips to the grocery store, and beer hadn’t crossed her mind. It had been too long since she’d had a guy in the house. She could call Katie or Laura Jo, and one of them would undoubtedly not only have beer but would volunteer to deliver it stat. Of course, they’d also have questions followed by advice, color commentary, and knowing looks. Was beer really worth that kind of effort?
While she was considering her alcohol options, he texted back.
Am all smoky. Need to hit the shower.
Conveniently, she had an easy fix for a dirty man.
Grinning, she typed: I have a shower. And fish fingers.
A gourmet cook she was not. She was also no grammar expert. Re-reading her message, it sounded like she’d texted him that her fingers were either some kind of mutant cold-blooded, water-dwelling creature or that said fingers stank. Really smooth.
Be there in fifteen.
Apparently, he didn’t care about grammar. Good to know. She looked up and panicked. In addition to being beer-less, her cottage was hardly date-ready. She’d meant to clean up, but then time had gotten away from her. Moving quickly, she ran around the tiny rooms, scooping laundry up and shoveling books back onto the shelves. At the five-minute mark—because, yes, she was one hundred percent certain that Kade always stuck to his timeline—she’d achieved a modicum of order as long as he didn’t go poking around in any closets.
That left her approximately three hundred seconds to effect any self-improvements she deemed important. A quick scan of her lower regions didn’t boost her confidence any. She wore a pair of sleep shorts, a camisole with enough built-in bra support for two pairs of boobs, and a flannel shirt. The flip-flops with pink pineapples weren’t exactly Lucite hooker heels either. In the plus column, she’d shaved that morning, and at least she could still see her legs past her stomach. The problem with casual, friends-with-benefits sex after being married was that not only had Kade not seen her naked since her body had been enjoying its high school glory days, but married sex had been comfortable. Will had seen her at her best and her worst, and he’d loved her both ways. All ways. Tears pricked at her eyelids.
Well, shoot.
If she cried, she wouldn’t be having sex tonight. Kade would show up, take one look at her, and go into protector he-man mode. He’d be so busy trying to take care of her and fix her problems that she wouldn’t be able to peel his clothes off him. Which would be a pity, so she needed to buck up.
Right on cue, she heard the familiar sounds of a truck crunching up the driveway. For a moment, she had a flashback to when Will would come, sooty and tired and smoky. She’d always made him strip on the back porch before pulling him into the shower. Those had been fun times.
Good times. Will times. She sucked in a breath, but the tears stayed put. Will wouldn’t have wanted her to be lonely. That wasn’t what one friend wished on another friend.
Kade parked the truck carefully. She’d bet he was the kind of guy who effortlessly maneuvered five thousand pounds of Ford excellence precisely between the lines in a parking lot too. It made her wonder why his boat looked the way it did.
He didn’t have on the god-awful fishing hat tonight, but he was wearing yet another faded T-shirt and an open flannel shirt. He flashed her a quick smile as he got out. He was working as an EMT and he didn’t smell like smoke and ash, but she’d still bet he hadn’t been able to stay away from the fire entirely. Kade wasn’t the kind of guy who sat on the sidelines while others risked their lives. He identified the problem, assessed possible solutions, and then committed. One hundred percent. It was undoubtedly why he’d proposed back in high school when the condom had broken.
She stepped outside onto the porch to meet him, not entirely sure where to start or what to say, but he gently pulled her close. That worked for her. She knew how to be friends and she knew how to have sex—her pregnant belly being proof of that—but the parts between were more than a little bit mysterious.
“Hey,” he said, his voice rough, his hands steady on her hips. The careful weight felt good and then he rested his forehead against hers. Perfect. She had no idea how he knew exactly how to calm her down. Maybe there was a secret guy manual. Maybe it was just Kade.
“Hey yourself,” she said, winning no points in the witty banter department. A furry body wriggled between them.
“I brought Stan,” he said apologetically. “I should have asked.”
“I like Stan.” She dropped to her knees to say hello, and Stan barked enthusiastically, licking her face and doing a full-body happy dance. Mistaking his feelings about tonight’s date was impossible. Between the tongue and the doggy grin, Stan was one hundred percent on board with the plan.
Kade dropped onto his haunches beside her, rubbing the dog’s side. “He likes you.”
Not a surprise. She doubted there were many people Stan actively disliked. There was something to be said for that kind of uncomplicated worldview. “I wonder if Baby would like a dog or a kitten.”
The animal would need to be sturdy. Toddler hands were loving but rough.
“We could go to the local shelter,” Kade suggested. “Check it out.”
Maybe a pet would fend off the lonelies. She and Will had talked about getting a cat or dog, but his work schedule had been crazy, and she’d still been working for the school district. It hadn’t seemed fair. Of course, she could also end up being the crazy cat lady with a hundred kittens. She cleared her throat.
“Maybe,” she said noncommittally. She stood up, and Stan raced around her, making happy circles. “Come on in.”
When she held the door open for Kade however, he stopped just inside and toed off his boots.
He smiled slightly. “I’m dirty.”
“A girl can hope.” Or fantasize. Same thing, really.
He narrowed his eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be a mama?”
“Tell me that doesn’t mean you think I don’t like sex.” She didn’t bother making it a question.
He grinned. “My lips are sealed on the grounds that what I say can and will incriminate me. Tell me the baby can’t hear and doesn’t mind and I’m good.”
And here she was, hoping he would be bad. Very, very bad.
“Can’t hear. Doesn’t mind.” Hooking a finger in the belt loop of his jeans, she tugged him forward. “The bathroom’s down the hall.”
The cottage had one miniscule bathroom with a claw-foot tub with a shower curtain. She grabbed towels, hit the water, and perched on the toilet seat. When he looked at her, she made a give it up gesture. “Go on. Show me what you’ve got.”
He shook his head even as he shrugged out of his shirt. “You’re not shy, are you?”
“I know what I like.” And right now, Kade topped a very short list of things she liked.
“If you want a show, I’m happy to oblige.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head in one smooth move. Her gaze went straight to the dog tags at his throat, and, good lord but the man was built. He had muscles on his muscles, a gorgeous six-pack that narrowed to the vee of his hips and that definitely merited immediate exploration. Plus she loved the fact that he wasn’t perfect. He sported plenty of visible scars and a couple of old burn marks that were likely souvenirs from his summers smoke- jumping. A beautiful body, she thought, itching to touch him, but beat to hell and back. He’d done plenty of living himself since high school. The way he folded his shirt into neat squares and set it on her bathroom counter was worth a smile too and made her want to mess him up.
“If firefighting doesn’t work out for you, you could try the Chippendales,” she said.
He snorted. “I’ve got too much wear and tear for that.”
Then those women were idiots, because if he’d been dancing, she’d have been waving dollar bills and screaming like a fool.
He fingered his belt. “This is the good part. In case you were wondering.”
The sight of tanned male fingers on the buckle made her knees go weak. She suspected she was in agreement with him there, although Kade might be all good parts. He shoved his jeans and his boxer briefs down his thighs. Since her bathroom was small, helping was just charitable on her part. Or greedy. Impatient. Hooking a finger in the waistband of the navy blue cotton, enjoying her perfect view of his penis.
“Someone’s glad to see me.” Act first, think later, she reminded herself and stroked a finger down the thick length. That part of him felt silky hard and hot, tempting her palms to close around him and squeeze. Just a little or just enough to see what he would do... Yeah. So far her nonplan was working out perfectly.
When he reached for her, however, she shook her head. “Uh-uh. Get in.”
“This is a one-way show?”
“This is an old cottage with a really small hot water tank.” She drew her palm up and he hissed. “I’d hate to waste this.”
“That makes two of us,” he said with a laugh. While he got in and got busy behind the shower curtain, she settled in on the toilet lid. It still sported the really ugly fuzzy black cover that Will had loved. The man had had shit taste in decorating, but she’d let him have his way in here.
“Be quick,” she ordered, and when he laughed again, she realized how it had sounded. It was okay, though. She liked the way he laughed, not at her, but at their crazy situation and the way life liked to set them on their heads. Because holy moly, she was really doing this. She had a naked man in her shower and plans to have her wicked way with him.
“I’ll be quick. For now,” he promised, his voice low and husky.
She wasn’t sure why Kade was here, but she suspected his reasons weren’t all that different from hers. Once upon a time, when they’d both been younger, they’d had something good together, and now he was lonely too. Sometimes, somewhere in his head, he wasn’t quite all the way home yet. He was still looking for something. The sounds of soap and water hitting a large male body were followed, however, by the all-too-familiar sound of the pipes groaning. She definitely didn’t want any erection-killing cold water blasts.
“You’d better hurry up,” she warned, before giving in to curiosity and twitching the shower curtain aside. The great reveal wasn’t as sexy as she’d hoped and it had nothing to do with the spectacular, wonderfully naked SEAL standing in her shower. Nope. She had no one but herself to thank because every available edge was covered with stuff. Her shampoos and bubble baths. Two razors, a pouf, and a body wash she liked because it smelled like coconut and flowers, and if she couldn’t be on a beach in Hawaii the bubbles would do. For the first few weeks, she’d used Will’s soap, Will’s shampoo. But the scent wasn’t the man, and she’d eventually thrown the bottles out. No thinking about Will. He was her past. Kade, on the other hand, was her very sexy right
now.
“The offer to join me still stands.” His gaze met hers, his voice low and hoarse.
The offer wasn’t the only thing standing.
Thank God.
Chapter Nine
Abbie’s pregnant body was awesome in its own way, but it definitely didn’t resemble anything found on the pages of Victoria’s Secret. Her boobs were larger, her stomach stretching to hold more baby. Her infant companion liked Sugar Babies and doughnuts. Earlier in the week, she’d eaten most of an apple crisp earlier in the week that could have fed half a football team, and those extra calories had discovered an express track to her butt. All for a good cause, she reminded herself. She’d have years to shed the weight, but only a few more months to enjoy the strange sensations of holding her baby inside her body.
Kade flicked water in her direction. “Not coming in?”
“I’m enjoying the view,” she said, because it was true.
Water sheeted down over his shoulder and head, leaving his skin soap slicked and eminently lickable. He braced his hands against the wall as he faced into the spray, his face tipped up to find the water. The pipes whined again, and the showerhead stuttered once, twice.
“Move,” she ordered, but he wasn’t quick enough. A blast of cold water hit him, eliciting a muttered curse. Laughing, she retreated to her front-row seat. Her dry front-row seat. She definitely won this round.
He pulled back the curtain. “That was your warning?”
The man definitely hadn’t been in a long-term relationship recently—or had roommates. “I tried. Not my fault you’re slow.”
He gave her a slow smile even as he snagged the towel she dangled in his direction. The cold water hadn’t noticeably dampened his enthusiasm. He still looked hot and bothered—for her. Wasn’t that sweet of him?
He stepped out. “I’ll show you quick.”
Ooh, threats. She mock frowned. “I’m not sure that’s what a girl wants to hear.”
