“All right, darling, you’ve asked for it.” He took a drink of his beer, then walked up to her and set it on the counter next to hers. “First, a direct answer to your first question. I never asked you out because I thought of you as one of the guys, as my running-around buddy. I was in high school and chased girls who would put out, as most guys did. If I’d ever thought you would be close to gaining a reputation like that I would have kicked your ass.”
Mary didn’t back up or create space between them. She shifted her hands to her hips, fisting them there, and stared up at him, her lips relaxed and slightly parted, making her look a hell of a lot more kissable than she probably realized at the moment.
“And second,” he said, on a roll now and damned if he would let her get a word in before he made his point. “It would be the ideal to date someone who is your best friend, but we don’t live in an ideal world. And I’m not one to rose-color everything when it just isn’t that way.” Today was a damn good example of that, although he decided talking to Mary about anything but John was probably the best way to end the day. “The simple fact is most men and women don’t share the same interests. They can date, fall in love, and even marry, but they will always prefer to do things the other one doesn’t care for. Like shopping, or fishing, or bowling, or baking pies.”
“Nate Armstrong,” she whispered, reminding him of the pigtailed girl who used to berate him more than he ever did her. “You’re a chauvinist. Who would have thought that behind all that sex appeal you would be so narrow-minded?”
“Sex appeal?” This time he did let his attention drop to her breasts, and standing this close to her he had a damn good view.
Mary threw her hands up in the air and walked away from him. “I dog you twice in one sentence and that is all you hear?”
“Primarily because your insults weren’t accurate.”
“I like to shop, fish, bowl, and make pies. What the hell does that make me?”
“A good friend.”
“But not a good girlfriend?”
There was no way he would let her win this argument. “I guess I’ll have to chase down all your old boyfriends and ask their opinion on the matter,” he said, clearing the distance between them again.
“Do you do that with every girl you go out with?”
“Nope.” Not that he dated all that much. Work kept him busy and most of the women in town he’d already gone out with, or they were married. “How else would I be able to accurately answer your question?”
Then because he wanted to, Nate lifted one of the soft curls off her shoulder. She hadn’t taken her hair down since coming home, and he wondered what it would look like if it weren’t pulled back and confined behind her head. Mary snapped her mouth shut and didn’t move as he fondled her hair.
“Who all have you gone out with?” he asked, curious. He couldn’t remember anyone saying anything about dating her.
“Not many.” Her voice had changed, grown softer, huskier. “I dated a guy a while back who lived north of here in Mountain Grove.”
“Dated? As in past tense?” Her hair looked like spun gold and was as soft as he imagined it would be.
“Yes. It ended over a year ago or so.”
“Must not have been all that if you don’t remember exactly when you two split up.”
“It wasn’t.”
Nate shifted his attention to her face and caught her watching him play with her hair. He wasn’t quite sure why it pleased him she wasn’t dating anyone and referred to her previous boyfriend with casual indifference. It took some effort to stay on track with his argument, though. He would much rather simply learn more about her. Years had passed since they used to hang out all the time, and this woman standing in front of him really intrigued him. Hell, since arriving here he’d given little thought to John. All of his attention was on Mary.
“Doesn’t sound as if he were a best friend.”
That grabbed her attention. She looked up at Nate, her lips parting and her eyes dark and enticingly beautiful. “We weren’t best friends, which is why it didn’t work out.”
“Now seriously, Mary. You don’t believe a couple only makes it if they are best friends. I know for a fact my mom and dad each have their best friends and they aren’t each other. And last I checked they’re still married after all these years.”
“Good grief! Your parents fought as much as mine did.”
“Married couples fight sometimes,” he said soothingly. “Best friends fight sometimes, too.”
“True.” She didn’t attack with a vicious comeback.
Had little Mary Hamilton mellowed out with age? The fire in her eyes belied that statement. Nate stared at her lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss them. There was passion inside her, unbridled and fiery. Not only did he see it in the way her cheeks flushed but also in the radiance in her eyes. Mary was damn near the sexiest woman he’d seen in ages, but body language spoke volumes in spite of the perfect curves and bare skin. She could have chosen a more modest outfit, although it was incredibly muggy outside. Mary moved with the confidence of a woman who knew what she had and knew how to use it. Suddenly he was dying to know what she’d learned over the years since they’d been best buds and he’d given little thought to her sexuality.
“Best friends can do other things, as well.”
Nate lowered his head, watched her eyes open wider, and captured her mouth. He pulled her against him, feeling those large breasts against his chest. This time, unlike when she hugged him earlier, Mary didn’t have a bra on and her nipples poked into his flesh, torturing him with feverish desire, which instantly turned into a raging fire he wanted her to put out.
She groaned, tilting her head back, and opened for him. Her fingers crawled up his arms to his shoulders, holding on tight as she leaned into him. His fingers trailed through her hair, tangling it and grabbing a handful. Then tugging, he forced her head back farther and impaled her mouth.
My God! Mary was the sweet nectar he never knew he craved. He couldn’t flaw her anywhere. And this submissive side of her, buried underneath a bold, brassy, and confident woman, turned him on even more than he thought it would.
Nate wasn’t a chauvinist. He had no problem with women doing anything men did. But he wouldn’t deny the turn-on when a strong woman capable of doing anything he could do relaxed and let him take charge when they were alone. Especially during sex. Maybe it was some part of his brain, still stuck in the dark ages, that made him want to dominate, take charge and control her actions, force her to yield to him and surrender completely. It was that level of trust that truly turned him on.
Keeping her head angled just how he wanted, Nate began a sultry dance in her mouth, drowning in her heat. She explored as much as he did, circling her tongue around his, neither hindering his progress nor trying to control it. Just kissing Mary got him harder than he’d been in ages. If there was a drop of blood in any part of his body other than his cock, he’d be damned surprised.
With his free hand, he traced the length of her spine, then enjoyed the soft curve of her ass. She was firm where she was supposed to be and mouthwatering soft where a woman should be soft.
“Nate,” she gasped, turning her head and dragging in several quick breaths.
He squeezed his eyes shut, rational thought returning and kicking him in the ass at the same time. The blood in his cock flooded through his body as fast as it had drained and gotten him hard.
“God, Mary.” He took a step backward, ready for her to kick his ass right out of her home. “I am so sorry.”
When he looked at her she blinked, her lips still wet and swollen from his kiss. But as he watched, the brilliance in her eyes faded and she hugged herself, pulling her attention from his face at the same time.
“It’s okay,” she mumbled.
“Like hell it is. I’d tear into another man without a second thought for doing something like that. I took advantage of you. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so incredibly sorr
y that I did.”
“You said that already.”
“You’re right.” He turned, deciding leaving now before making a bigger ass out of himself would be smart. “Don’t hate me, Mary. I swear. Sometime soon I’ll take you to lunch. We’ll laugh and joke about the old days and have a good time.”
He paused after opening her front door, needing to look at her one last time. She’d followed him into the living room but still hugged herself. Her violet eyes were flat, closed off, when she simply nodded.
He knew he still wasn’t thinking clearly. As he walked out of her house and pulled her door closed behind him, he swore he heard her say, “I could never hate you, Nate.”
3
Mary stared out the window as a soft rain pattered against the panes. A month had passed since John Corelli died, and with all funeral and mourning time passing, the town had fallen back into its normal routine. Life went on. If only Mary could put that day out of her mind. She seemed permanently stuck on the day John died and the day Nate kissed her for the first time.
Only a few calls had come in so far that morning and the station was quiet. Odgers kept a small crew on the clock during the first half of the day over the summer. The town turned lazy, few people doing anything out of their daily routine. Without much to do, her mind had plenty of time to fantasize about Nate.
She hadn’t seen Nate since and couldn’t decide if that was good or not. Now she had the memory of what it felt like to be kissed by him. And it left her wanting more.
One would think a month after a kiss the fire would finally go out. Mary stood and stretched, feeling the yearning swell inside her as she lived through that perfect moment in time once again. The way Nate had held her, grabbed her hair, tilted her head just right, then impaled her with a fierceness she never knew she craved got her horny as hell every time she thought of it.
The light on her switchboard began blinking. She hadn’t switched off her headphones when she’d stood.
“Damn, girl, do your job right and quit daydreaming about something that will never be finished.” She plopped down in her seat and took the call. “Police,” she said, staring, once again, at the raindrops as they smeared their way down the window.
Instant screaming and crying snapped her attention to the now solid red light in front of her.
“My stove is on fire! I can’t put it out!” an older-sounding woman wailed into the phone.
“Okay, ma’am, calm down, please. Give me your address and we’ll send help right away.”
“I was just cooking my supper. But my show came on. I guess I lost track of time.”
“Ma’am, what is your street address?” Mary knew how to remain calm, get the necessary information, and dispatch emergency assistance. Once she had all imperative information, she would stay on the line and calm down the person who had called.
“Three-fifty Ash.”
That was in Mary’s old neighborhood. “Are you in the house right now?”
As she spoke to the woman, Mary opened another line, already putting the call through to the fire station.
“Oh my God!” the woman screamed in Mary’s ear.
“If you’re in the house I need you to go outside.” Mary muted the elderly woman but continued to listen as she connected with the fire station. “Are you the only one in the house?” she asked, after returning to the woman. “What is your name?”
“Yes. I live here alone. But … I need to get my supper.”
“Firehouse Number Three,” a deep male voice said into Mary’s ear.
Mary’s insides quickened as she immediately recognized Nate’s voice. “I have a call on Three-fifty Ash,” she said, then returned her attention to the older woman who was now babbling about curtains her mother had made. Mary stressed again that it was imperative the woman go outside. Then muting the lady on the phone again, she adjusted the other mic to her mouth.
“It sounds like she’s elderly and growing confused,” Mary stressed.
“Ten four. We’re en route now.”
Mary hesitated for only a moment before lowering her voice and almost whispering, “Be careful.”
She was already returning her attention to the older woman, prepared to try to calm her until emergency vehicles showed up.
“I will be,” Nate said, matching Mary’s whisper with a deadly-sounding rumble that did a mean and twisted number to her entire equilibrium before he hung up.
“Ma’am, can you tell me your name?” Mary would be damned if she gave Nate the power to utter a few words into her ear and turn her brain into mush.
“Deloris Rose. Are you the fire department? I think a fireman should take care of this fire. I just can’t let my mother’s curtains get ruined.”
“A fire truck will be there in a few minutes, Mrs. Rose. It would be helpful if you went outside so they know which house is yours.” Mary lowered her head against her hand and closed her eyes, listening closely as she focused on working with the older woman. “Mrs. Rose, if the fire has spread to the curtains, it will move to the cabinets next. The smoke alone could hurt you bad enough you won’t be able to get outside.”
“But this is my kitchen.”
“Mrs. Rose, go outside now. Can you leave through the front door?”
Deloris Rose started coughing and it took a few tries before Mary convinced her to get out of the house and only another minute before emergency vehicles were on the scene.
Mary didn’t often hear the outcome of calls that came in through her switchboard. Usually that didn’t bother her. But knowing Nate was putting out a fire and how deadly his job could be twisted her stomach in knots. She would be smart to find a man with a safe job, one where his life wasn’t threatened daily. Before she’d given that thought enough time to develop in her head Mary knew she’d go nuts with a man like that and dub him boring as hell, just like his job, before the first date was over.
She’d never considered herself an adrenaline junkie. It didn’t bother her being at the station all day. The other cops fought for the few high-profile cases that came into town. Mary was content with her switchboard and had been for almost ten years now. There were plenty of ways she could probably analyze this, but in the end it came down to one simple truth. Mary enjoyed life the best when things didn’t change. Keeping it simple worked just fine in her book. That definitely disqualified her as an adrenaline junkie.
It also explained why she continued tormenting herself with wild fantasies of savage kisses in her kitchen. Although in her fantasies it went way beyond a heart-stopping kiss. She loved Nate and had since she was a child. That wasn’t going to change, because Mary didn’t do change.
“Who needs a counselor when you can analyze yourself so well?” Mary finished entering information on her calls into the computer. She always wrote everything on her notepad, then at the end of her shift entered the information in the program the station used. More than likely she did it this way since she’d been working at the station longer than they’d had the computer program. And again, it added up to her not accepting any unnecessary change.
So if she wasn’t into changing how things were, it meant she would always love Nate and she’d never have him. “Are you going to endure this torture for the rest of your life? Remain single and alone?” she asked herself as she logged out of the program.
“What was that?” Lieutenant Jim Maddox asked.
Mary spun around. “I didn’t hear you come in, Jim. And sorry,” she muttered. “I was just grumbling to myself.”
“It’s not healthy to talk to yourself, Hamilton.” Jim had a contagious grin, which he used a lot more lately since his baby daughter had been born a few months ago. “The best remedy is some of my wife’s chocolate-chip cookies.” He held out an aluminum pan wrapped in foil. “They’re the best in the state,” he promised.
“Sounds like a cure for all ailments.” She wouldn’t refuse him when he rocked up on his heels and held out the tray as if he were showing off rare diamonds he�
�d just found.
“So how’d the day go?” He leaned against the edge of her desk where the switchboard was and unwrapped the pan, revealing some delicious-looking cookies.
Mary politely took one, although she didn’t have an appetite. After grabbing her purse off the floor, then placing the cookie next to it, Mary hurried into the break room, grabbed a couple of napkins, and returned. “This morning we had more calls than this afternoon. It’s been quiet for the past hour or so.”
She heard the door open to the station this time and turned when Patty Engel, her nighttime replacement, sauntered in chewing gum. The captain had warned Patty more than once about chewing gum while dispatching. Patty’s father was mayor of Meredith Curve, and Patty seemed to think the world answered to her and not the other way around. Although in high school she’d been just as big of a bitch and her father had worked at the factory like most everyone else in town.
“Are those cookies?” she said, her squeal as annoying as her broad grin and the bright pink lip gloss she’d painted on way too thick.
Mary didn’t get why Patty worked so hard to look good when no one would see her until after midnight when her shift ended. She let Patty swoon around Jim, who didn’t appear to mind the flattery any more than he did another opportunity to brag about his wife. Mary wrapped her cookie in the napkins, grabbed her purse, and slipped out the door, mumbling good-bye as she left.
She’d spent a good part of her day figuring out why she seemed to enjoy putting herself through hell over one damn kiss. After determining it was due to love, she now needed to figure out the best way to handle things from here. There were two solutions as she saw it. One, forget about Nate and move on. Or two, find the man and make him hers. The first one meant changing the way she thought. The second one would mean changing the way she lived. Both of them meant changing, something she’d readily accepted she didn’t like to do.
“Fine,” she grumbled, scratching her hair loose from her headband as she stepped around puddles in the asphalt to her car. “Just fantasize about him for the rest of your life.”
Feel the Heat Page 4
