“No, they won’t.”
She didn’t answer. If he couldn’t see that he would always be a magnet for women, that the female gender would always be drawn to his smile, his fun-loving spirit, his unfairly, ridiculously extravagant good looks, then what was the point?
She pulled into his driveway and opened the back door to help him out of the car.
He was still glowering at her from his supine position on the backseat. “We’re not done with this discussion.”
“Maybe we should continue it over some painkillers.”
“No painkillers. Just help me get inside.”
She held his crutches while he maneuvered himself out of the car, head first, then grabbed the roof to swing his legs out. Her heart ached for him. The skin around his eyes looked bruised from fatigue.
“I should have taken you back to the hospital,” she scolded as they headed up the tidy walkway to his door.
“I don’t want to be there. I want to be with you.” He faced his front door blankly. “Hell if I know where my keys are. Spare’s somewhere in the shrubs.”
She found the key, opened the door, and watched him swing himself inside. She hovered outside, wondering if she should let him rest. Maybe run to a pharmacy and pick up some supplies. He turned and looked at her impatiently.
“Well? If you’re expecting me to carry you over the threshold, you’re going to have to wait until after the wedding. Or at least until I get rid of these crutches.”
Her face burned as hot as the fire that had ended the Dog. “The what?”
But he’d already turned away and headed for his bedroom. He couldn’t keep dropping these hints about marriage, like little bombshells, and get away with it. She found him flat on his back in bed.
“Don’t you dare go to sleep yet.”
“I thought you said I needed my rest.” One eye opened in a slit of lazy blue.
“I think I hate you right now.”
“That’s not a nice thing to say to your future bridegroom.”
“There!” She pointed at him triumphantly. “You did it again.”
“Come here.”
She took a step toward him. He crooked his finger. Really, she ought to protest at the nerve of him, expecting her to come when he beckoned, but he looked so pale and tired that she didn’t have the heart. She stepped closer, then closer still until she stood at his side. Then, so quickly she barely knew it was happening, he flipped her onto the bed next to him.
Now she was the one flat on her back. He leaned over her, braced on one elbow, surrounding her with the blue heat of his gaze.
“I only want one woman. I don’t go chasing after girls, never have. I liked to flirt as much as the next guy. But ever since you came along, everything’s been turned upside down. I felt things I’d never felt before. I didn’t know what it was at first, all I knew was I wanted to be with you and keep you out of trouble and make you believe in me.”
“I believe in you—”
“Shhh. Don’t interrupt. I love you, Katie. And that’s for good. If other girls pay attention to me, I can’t do anything about that, except maybe wave a big wedding ring in their faces and go on and on about the wonderful girl I’m married to, the one I love with all my heart, the one I plan on spending all the rest of my life with.”
Katie’s heart seemed to have turned into a manic bunny rabbit, hippity-hopping around her rib cage. And something strange was happening to her face. It was melting into a smile she had no control over. That goofy grin spread and spread, until it felt like her face would crack open. “I love you so much.”
“Good.” He nodded as if to say, That’s settled. He rolled off her, onto his back, with a long groan of satisfaction. “And what about you? Are you going to be happy with a dyslexic guy who doesn’t read thousand-page novels in French for fun?”
“As long as that guy is you.” She curved a hand under his jawbone. He snuggled his cheek against her palm. The pleasure of it made her blood sing.
“Am I going to have to fight a bunch of textbooks to get my Katie time?”
“Yes. Big ones. How does sociology sound?”
“Sounds like it has nothing to do with literature, and something to do with people.” He adjusted the pillow under his head.
“I think people are growing on me. Especially the older ones. I want to switch fields and study ways to help the aging population. The Drinking Crew gave me a check, did you know? I love those guys. They were the best thing about the Hair of the Dog besides you.”
Ryan pulled the covers up to his chin with a long, ragged sigh. “The Drinking Crew rocks. It all sounds great. I gotta sleep now.” He sounded drunk with oncoming slumber.
“About time.” She traced his forehead with loving fingers. “I hope you do what I say more when we’re . . . married.” The word “married” danced along her skin like a fairy wand spreading shimmers in its wake. She was going to be married. To Ryan. Her heart nearly cracked with joy.
“One more question.” Ryan sounded already half asleep.
She snuggled her face into the warm curve where his shoulder met his neck. “What?”
“Are you wearing lipstick?”
From her intimate nest, she giggled. “Ella Joy gave it to me. For my big moment.”
“Your big moment?”
“Yeah. Apparently one must look one’s best when one is going on TV to confess to an act of arson one didn’t commit. It’s probably in Emily Post somewhere.”
He laughed softly and ran his fingers through her hair. It felt divine. “That was not your big moment. This is. The beginning of us.”
An exquisitely tender meeting of lips ended that discussion. As big moments went, Katie thought it hard to beat.
When Ryan woke up, Katie was still cuddled in a curlicue under his arm. He touched her silky hair with a sense of reverence. This girl, this fierce-hearted, loyal, smart, honest, wonderful girl, had agreed to become his wife. No moment in his life, not even the day he became a fireman of San Gabriel, could compare with this.
Funny, though, about the curse. He hadn’t even considered it a curse back then. He’d seen it as a convenient excuse for not getting serious. And now—he couldn’t wait to get serious, if it meant being with Katie and starting a family and all that stuff he’d always assumed wasn’t for him, not the way he’d grown up, not with a father like Zeke.
But now, with Katie by his side, everything felt different. So what if he’d had to leave the force, leave San Gabriel, leave his buddies in order to come back and find her? It was all worth it. As for the rest of the guys—the other Bachelor Firemen of San Gabriel—well, they’d have to find their own way to break the curse.
He couldn’t wait to laugh his head off the entire time.
Acknowledgments
Once again, thanks to Rick A. Godinez, Captain II of the Los Angeles Fire Department, for his technical expertise. Any mistakes are mine, not his. Thanks to Maxine Mansfield for her assistance with my medical questions. This book wouldn’t exist without Scott’s patient support and Indigo’s willingness to entertain herself. Thanks so much to both of you, and to Lizbeth Selvig for her exquisite critiquing and constant friendship. And finally, thanks to Tessa Woodward and the entire brilliant Avon team.
About the Author
JENNIFER BERNARD is a graduate of Harvard and a former news promo producer. The child of academics, she confounded her family by preferring romance novels to . . . well, any other books. She left big city life for true love in Alaska, where she now lives with her husband and stepdaughters. She’s no stranger to book success, as she also writes erotic novellas under a naughty secret name not to be mentioned at family gatherings.
Visit her on the Web at www.JennyBernard.net.
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Romances by Jennifer Bernard
The Fireman Who Loved Me
Hot for Fireman
Copyright
&
nbsp; This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
HOT FOR FIREMAN. Copyright © 2012 by Jennifer Bernard. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Epub Edition JUNE 2012 ISBN: 9780062089021
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062088970
FIRST EDITION
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