Once Burned (Firehouse Fourteen Book 1)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  She wanted to tell Angie to let it go. Jay would never settle down. And he would certainly never ask Angie out, not when he worked with her brother, Dave.

  Mike sighed, telling herself it wasn’t her business, that she was probably imagining things, then looked around the empty bar again. Why was she still sitting here? She wasn’t sure, didn’t want to look too closely at the reason. She blew out a quick breath then stood up and grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair.

  “Hey Nick, I’m leaving.” She pulled the jacket on then headed for the door, afraid to stop, afraid to hang around any longer. She didn’t even know why she had bothered telling him she was leaving. It wasn’t any of his business, even if he had asked her to let him know. Mike was a few feet from escape when Nick caught up to her, stopping her with a hand on her shoulder.

  “Whoa, hold up. What do you mean, you’re leaving?”

  Mike turned and faced him, careful not to look directly at him. Her emotions and thoughts were still in turmoil, still swirling through her mind like some crazy tornado, and she was afraid it was clearly written on her face. “Just what I said, I’m leaving.”

  “Who’s driving you home?”

  “Me.”

  “But you’ve been drinking.”

  Mike sighed and finally looked up at Nick, letting her irritation show, hoping it was enough to mask anything else that might be visible on her face. “No, Nick, I haven’t. I’ve been drinking iced tea. I am fine to drive. If I had known this was going to happen, I wouldn’t have bothered letting you know I was leaving.”

  Nick watched her for a silent second, his gaze intense and studying. He loosened his hold on her shoulder and shifted so that he was a little closer to her. “Why don’t you let me take you home?”

  The offer hung in the air between them, quiet and casual. Just one friend looking after another. Or was it? Mike finally met his gaze. Her stomach did a sudden roll at the look in his eyes and she immediately attributed it to the confusion that had been consuming her since Nick had asked her to dance. She swallowed and looked away, part of her wanting to accept his offer.

  And part of her wanting to run away.

  And that was the issue, right there. That part of her wanted to accept his offer. Why? What had happened to change her mind, to change her thinking? Why did this one man have the ability to confuse her and drive her crazy and make her want? Nobody else had ever come close to doing what Nick did to her, to making her think and feel and want the way Nick did.

  To make her need the way Nick did.

  Mike knew she was fine to drive. Perfectly fine. But if it had been anyone else offering, she wouldn’t have hesitated to accept, just for company if for no other reason. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was Nick.

  And she was suddenly afraid of being alone with him.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she finally muttered, taking a step back to put more space between them. Nick kept watching her, a frown creasing his forehead. The frown disappeared, replaced by a look of mischievousness. There was a glint in his eye when he finally shook his head and stepped back, reaching into his pocket for something. Mike’s mouth dropped open when he pulled out her car keys. “How did—”

  “Either I drive you home, or you can walk.” He waved the keys in front of her, then deftly pulled them out of her reach when she tried to grab them. She narrowed her eyes at him, her mind racing, trying to think of something to do. This was ridiculous. She didn’t need a ride home, and she certainly didn’t want to be alone with Nick. But he kept looking at her, amusement and something else—something she didn’t want to see, didn’t want to accept—deep in his eyes.

  Part of her considered the possibility of just tackling him and grabbing the keys, but only for a second. She didn’t think for a minute that she would have any luck succeeding at that. Another part of her actually considered walking. But again, that thought was quickly dismissed. It was late, it was dark, and home was a good six miles away on a back country road.

  If she hadn’t been so completely lost in thought, she wouldn’t be the last to leave, and she wouldn’t be in this predicament. From the small smile on Nick’s face, he knew it—and was taking full advantage of it.

  Mike crossed her arms tightly across her chest and leveled a dirty look at Nick. “Fine. You can take me home.”

  His eyes lit up with satisfaction and Mike had a hard time resisting the urge to kick him, just to wipe the look off his face. Nick walked back to the stage setup and said something to the guys there, then grabbed his leather bomber jacket and returned, guiding her out the door. Mike paused as the cold air hit her, realized Nick’s hand was now resting on her back, the warmth of his touch reaching her through her jacket and sweater. She shivered and hoped that Nick didn’t notice. Or, if he did, that he would attribute it to the chill in the air.

  They walked to her Jeep in silence and Mike climbed in, huddling against the cold as Nick started the engine and pulled out of the driveway. The trip was a quiet one, the interior of the Jeep filled only with music from the stereo. She may have nodded off during the ride, or maybe she was just completely engrossed in her own thoughts, because they made it back to her place faster than she expected. Mike mumbled a thank you to Nick then stepped out of the Jeep, not realizing he still had the keys until she tried to open the locked door.

  Biting back a curse, she turned to get Nick’s attention, only to run straight into his solid chest. He reached out and steadied her with his hands. The touch did something funny to her pulse rate and she had trouble catching her breath until she stepped away from him. Mike closed her eyes, cursing the effects he had on her. And she wished, fervently, that she had been drinking beer instead of tea all night, because alcohol would have muted her awareness of him. At least, that’s what she tried to tell herself.

  Nick gave her a funny look then reached past her and unlocked the door, leading the way inside. Mike stepped over the threshold and took a deep breath, grateful to be home, anxious for Nick to leave. She flipped on the living room light and pulled off her jacket then walked straight into the kitchen, thinking she could have a drink now, that it wasn’t too late to try and dull her awareness of him. Nick followed her, stopping right behind her as she rummaged through the refrigerator.

  Her hand closed around a bottle of beer but she stopped, not pulling it out. Maybe it was because Nick was standing so close behind her. Maybe it was because she worried about what he would say, or about that stupid asinine condition of his. Whatever the reason, she released her hold on the beer and grabbed a bottle of water instead.

  “Mind if I have one?”

  Mike closed the refrigerator door, water bottle in hand, and faced Nick, surprised at the jumping of her pulse when she looked at him. She swallowed and forced a bored expression on her face. “Don’t you need to leave now?”

  Nick stepped even closer and she felt a brief moment of panic when she realized there was no place for her to go. She was backed against the refrigerator, with Nick mere inches in front of her, trapped. Her mind fought the sensation, but her body turned traitor and quickened at his nearness. Nick reached out and gently pulled the bottle from her hand, then leaned over and placed it on the counter before turning back to her.

  “I can’t leave, because my car isn’t here.”

  Mike’s jaw clenched at his words, at the realization that he was right. He had brought her home in her Jeep, and she had given no thought whatsoever to how he would get home. The crazy thought that she could let him use her Jeep entered her mind but she quickly banished it. Nobody borrowed her Jeep. Nobody. Which meant he would just have to call someone to pick him up, maybe one of the guys who played in the band with him. She was ready to make that suggestion when Nick suddenly stepped away from her and turned toward the living room.

  “I’ll just sleep on the sofa, and you can take me home in the morning.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  I’ll just sleep on the so
fa.

  Nick’s words came back to haunt him for the hundredth time as he rolled over on the couch and tried to get comfortable. He groaned and readjusted the quilt, covering his bare shoulders only to have his feet peek out. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, staring up at the ceiling in the pale light that came from the kitchen.

  He had no idea what he had thought to accomplish by saying he’d sleep on the sofa, but continuously rolling over in frustration certainly hadn’t been it. And Kayla. The look on her face when he had opened his mouth was almost comical. She stood there in the kitchen, backed against the refrigerator, her eyes wide with surprise. Then, as if something had exploded inside her, she grabbed the water bottle off the counter and flew through the living room and up the stairs, telling him there was a quilt and pillows in the closet.

  That had been over an hour ago. By now, she was no doubt snuggled in the feathery comfort of her bed, sound asleep, while he was down here on the sofa, calling himself the worst kind of fool while his mind moved from one thought to another to another. Yet no matter which way it turned, it always ended back on one thing: the guitar he had seen in the closet when he took out the quilt and pillows.

  With a frustrated sigh Nick sat up and tossed the covers aside, then walked to the closet and pulled out the guitar. It was Kayla’s old acoustic, still in good shape. He sat back on the sofa and pulled it across his lap, toying with the strings, surprised to see it was well-tuned. Maybe she still played once in a while. Or maybe not.

  Nick leaned back and closed his eyes, his fingers alternately strumming and picking the strings, turning the solitary notes into soft music. He lost track of the minutes as he played, lost track of everything as the music flowed through and out of him, comforting, soothing.

  He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he became aware of a subtle difference in the air around him, a change in the solitude cloaking him. His fingers slowed then stopped, the music drifting to a silent finish as he opened his eyes. Kayla was standing at the base of the stairs, silhouetted in shadows, wearing an oversized t-shirt. Nick hesitated before setting the guitar off to the side.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

  “I wasn’t sleeping.” Her quiet words penetrated the silence, a soft whisper in the still room. Nick stared at her, unable to see her face and wishing he could. A long minute went by before Kayla took a hesitant step forward. He grabbed the quilt and drew it over his lap, holding out one hand to stop her.

  “Kayla, I’m not really dressed.”

  She paused for just a split second then continued walking, her steps slow and unsure, not stopping until she was less than a foot away from him. The light from the kitchen fell across her face, revealing an expression of heartbreaking loneliness and uncertainty. Nick watched her, his breath held, afraid to move, afraid to speak.

  “I want you to hold me.” Her voice was shaky, the words barely a whisper in the stillness surrounding them. Nick swallowed, still staring up at her, trying to see her eyes more clearly. He held out his hand palm up between them, not daring to breathe. Seconds ticked by, quiet and tense, before she reached out and took his hand in her own, lacing her fingers with his.

  Nick slowly stood, his heart beating heavy in his chest, his breath catching in his throat. He wanted to pull her to him, to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight against him. But he didn’t move, didn’t touch her except for where their hands joined, knowing somehow that this was something she needed to do on her own.

  Kayla hesitated, staring up at him with wide eyes, then slowly stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. Nick took a deep breath, almost afraid to move, then brought his arms around her and held her tight, feeling her body press against him as she rested her head on his shoulder. A knot tightened and rolled in his stomach and he took a shaky breath to calm it. “Kayla, are you okay?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.” The words were mumbled against his neck, her breath soft and warm on his flesh. “Just hold me.”

  Nick squeezed his eyes shut, not sure what to say or do. He tightened his arms around her, his hand gently rubbing small circles on her lower back as he waited. The tension coming off Kayla was thick enough to wrap around both of them and Nick wondered how long it would be before it broke.

  Several long moments went by before Nick noticed a droplet of moisture on his shoulder, followed by another and another. Kayla’s breathing hitched and became irregular, and Nick realized she was crying. Something painful squeezed in his chest and he wrapped his arms more securely around her, gently rocking her. He reached up with one hand and cradled the back of her head, threading his fingers through her hair.

  “Kayla.” He stopped, not sure what else to say. Nick eased away from her a fraction of an inch and looked down, surprised when she raised her head to look up at him. Her cheeks were damp with moisture, her eyes wide and uncertain. Nick reached up and gently wiped at her cheek with his thumb, surprised to see that his hand was trembling. “Talk to me, Kayla.”

  She continued watching him, that look of uncertainty and vulnerability still in her eyes. She finally closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder again. “I’m scared, Nick. I don’t know what’s happening anymore.”

  “Scared of what?” Nick whispered the question into the quiet air, his arms still tight around Kayla. She was pressed so firmly against him that he could feel her heart beating hard and fast in her chest, a rhythm that said even more about the tension thrumming through her than her words. “C’mon Kayla, talk to me. Why are you scared?”

  She was quiet for a long time, so long that Nick thought she had changed her mind, that the chance to have Kayla open up was gone. Then suddenly she loosened her hold on him and looked up, her deep eyes holding his gaze with a penetrating look. Kayla licked her lips and looked away, still holding him but not as desperately. She took a deep shaking breath, almost as if working up courage.

  “I…I still want you, Nick. After all these years. And I don’t know why and it scares the hell out of me.” Kayla pushed away from him and began pacing, small hesitant steps back and forth as Nick fought to catch his breath, still shocked at her words, shocked at the anguish in her voice. He opened his mouth to say something, only to shut it again when she continued speaking. “I use to hate you for what you did. Up until a few months ago, I would have sworn that I still hated you. But I don’t think I do. How could I still hate you and want you as much as I do? And it hurts.”

  Her voice broke on her last words, releasing Nick from his paralysis. He closed the distance between them and took Kayla in his arms, holding her and rocking her as she sobbed quietly, her arms entwined around his waist as if he were a lifeline. “Kayla, it’s going to be okay.”

  “No, it’s not. I’m not used to feeling anything anymore, Nick. I haven’t felt anything for a long time, and then you come back and now suddenly…and I don’t know what to do anymore, and I’m scared.”

  Nick squeezed his eyes closed, swallowing against the pain twisting inside him, a razor sharp slicing that didn’t even compare to the pain racking Kayla’s body as surely as her sobs. He wasn’t sure why she was suddenly opening to him, admitting all of this to him. And he was terrified of saying the wrong thing, of doing something that would only make her pain worse. Something that would drive a wedge even more completely between them.

  In the end, the only thing he could do was follow his instinct. He cupped her face gently in his hands, his touch feather-light as he traced her tears with his thumbs. “Shh, I’m here. We’ll figure something out.”

  Kayla blinked up at him but said nothing, only watched him in silence for a long minute, her wide eyes bright with moisture. Then she slowly leaned forward, pressing herself closer until her lips met his in the barest of touches. Soft and hesitant at first, then firmer, more demanding, exploring. Sensation exploded inside Nick at the first touch and he opened his mouth under hers, quickly taking over, threading his fingers through her thick hair and hol
ding her.

  A shred of sanity flashed through his mind, as quickly as the initial explosion. Nick groaned his frustration and gentled the kiss, trying to ease away from Kayla. Her own groan trembled against his lips, making it even harder to pull away.

  “Kayla, this isn’t—”

  “Make love to me, Nick, please. I need to feel again.” She paused, naked emotion clear in her eyes as she reached up with a trembling finger and caressed his lower lip. “I need to feel you.”

  Nick made no effort to hide his groan as he struggled to maintain a grip on the thin thread of sanity holding him back from giving her exactly what she wanted. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the touch of her finger against his lip. “God, you’re driving me crazy, Kayla. I’m not superhuman, I don’t know how much more of this I can stand.”

  “Then stop fighting it, Nick.” She lowered her hand, sliding her finger across his throat and down his breastbone. She rested her open hand in the middle of his bare chest, directly over his pounding heart. Nick took another deep breath, this one shaky, and stared down at her, at the emotion and desire so clear in her eyes. The thread of sanity snapped and he lowered his head, claiming her mouth with a fierceness that took the breath from both of them.

  He forced her mouth open with one swipe of his tongue then delved deeper, his tongue meeting hers in a wild frenzy. His hands roamed over her body, hungry for the feel of her silky skin. He grabbed the hem of her nightshirt and dragged it upward, his knuckles grazing the curve of her bare bottom, the swell of her hip, the smooth arch of her back. She broke the kiss and stepped back, raising her arms over her head so he could completely remove the cotton shirt. He tossed the wadded material to the floor and stared at her.

  Nick’s heart swelled at the sight of her, standing naked and proud in front of him. He reached out with one hand and trailed a shaking finger across her collarbone then down, tracing the swell of her breast, circling the rosy nipple until it was a taut peak under his touch. Kayla’s breathing hitched as her head fell back, a soft sigh escaping her parted lips.