Sweet Sizzle: A Red Hot Valentine Story

by Redford, Jodi

  Holding her gaze, he rocked his hips, showing her with his body the hold she had over his heart. Tears sheened her eyes. He tenderly brushed the hair away from her cheek. “I love you, Rory. Always.”

  The tears broke free, slipping down her face, and she turned her head away, locking him out. Fighting back the pain of her rejection, he rolled onto his side, taking her with him so they faced each other. He wiped away the dampness stubbornly clinging to her lashes. “Talk to me, baby.”

  It took forever for her to look at him. Once she did, the regret in her teary gaze punched him in the solar plexus. “This isn’t going to work out, Ben. I can’t give you what you want. You’re looking for forever, and I’m just trying to figure out right now.”

  “We can do that together.”

  She shook her head. “I’d only be leading you on. Giving you hope of a future.”

  “Why are you so dead set against it?”

  “Because I have to be smart and practical about this, Ben. This baggage of you and I?” She waved a hand between them. “It’s always going to be there.”

  “I’m not going to abandon you, Ro. The thought of losing you—” He choked on the words, his throat and heart constricting in tandem.

  She started crying again. Feeling helpless and miserable, he held her until the last tear dried on her cheek. Apparently embarrassed by her emotional release, Rory excused herself and rushed into the bathroom. A few minutes passed, and then the unmistakable sound of the shower broke the uneasy silence. Exhaling wearily, he left the bed and pulled on his underwear. Plowing his hands through his hair, he strode down the hallway for the kitchen. The coffeemaker had blessedly been set with a timer and a full pot of java waited. Thank Christ. He needed a serious caffeine fix to get his head on straight enough to figure the next step with conquering Rory’s boatload of doubts where he was concerned.

  Midway through scavenging in the cupboards for a coffee mug, the front doorbell rang. He paused, waiting to see if Rory would come dashing down the hall. The chime sounded again. Whoever was at the door was impatient as fuck. Barely five seconds had passed between the two bells. When the third one tolled in even less time he frowned and stalked toward the living room. Probably some kids playing pranks on their way to the bus stop. He hauled short in front of the door and peeped through the security hole. No young punks on the other side. Sizing up the brunette bundle of energy squinting back at him anxiously, Ben groaned and cursed his bad luck. Why couldn’t it have been a fucking prankster?

  The way he saw it, he had two options. Ignore Hailey and pray she’d go away. Or open the door and toss out a raw steak in hopes that the she-devil would mistake her intended target. Steeling himself, he freed the deadbolt and cracked the door open. Unfortunately, he forgot all about the fact he was standing there in his damn boxer briefs until a stiff breeze curled between his legs, awarding him a chilly reminder. On the bright side, his state of undress managed to stun Hailey into a rare occurrence of silence. It only lasted an instant, but hell, that was a damn record where she was concerned.

  The shock slowly dissolved from Hailey and her eyes went into fire dragon mode. “You.”

  Before he could respond, she wound up her arm and sucker punched him in the gut. She hit pretty fucking good for a girl. The good news? She hadn’t aimed ten inches lower.

  Hailey glared at him, her fists balled on her hips. “What have you done with Rory?”

  “Jesus. You make it sound like I have her stuffed in a closet somewhere.”

  “For all I know, you do.”

  “Ben?” Rory’s voice blessedly chose that moment to appear behind him. “What’s going—”

  He risked taking his eyes off Hailey long enough to glance over his shoulder. Rory stood frozen in the mid-action of cinching the belt on her pink robe, her deer-trapped-in-headlights stare pinned to her best friend. Hailey shoved past him and hurried to Rory. “Are you okay? Did that bastard hurt you?” Unconcerned with Ben’s teeth grinding, Hailey continued on. “I saw that strange truck parked in your drive and got worried. God, am I glad I decided to take the shortcut through your sub.”

  “Uh, Hail. I need to tell you something.”

  Hailey waited expectantly, her gaze occasionally straying in Ben’s direction. Probably to make sure he didn’t try to sneak out without her sinking her canines into his leg first.

  “Remember when you first got sick, and I made the delivery to the firehouse?”

  “How could I forget? I barely had a voice.”

  And in that hallowed moment in time, there was peace on earth. Wisely keeping that thought to himself, Ben closed the door, safeguarding the neighbors from being subjected to him in his tighty-whiteys.

  Rory gave him a hesitant glance before returning her focus to Hailey. “Then you remember how you also told me to get over my Valentine’s Day neurosis with a little mattress mamboing courtesy of a hot firefighter?”

  Ben arched his eyebrows.

  “Sure. It was a good suggestion too,” Hailey said, lancing him with her death stare.

  Rory coughed delicately, her expression sheepish. “Well, I took it.”

  Hailey blinked before a slow smile crept across her face. “No shit. So who was the lucky dude?”

  “Ben.”

  Just as quick as it appeared, Hailey’s excitement vanished. A frustrated noise rattled from her chest. “The idea was for you to get over him by sleeping with someone else.”

  “I know, it just sorta…happened.”

  “Please tell me this was only a one night stand that lasted three days too long.” When Rory didn’t immediately respond, Hailey tossed up her arms. “What are you doing to yourself? You know he’s no good, and will just end up hurting you again.”

  Too damn tired and drained to withstand another round of emotional pummeling, he trudged past Rory and Hailey and returned to the bedroom. The weight of his past mistakes a five-ton elephant riding him piggyback, he yanked on his trousers and tugged his shirt over his head. After jamming his feet into his shoes, he retraced his tracks to the entryway.

  Hailey stopped in mid-tirade—no doubt she hadn’t shut up the entire time he’d been out of earshot—and shot him a baleful glare. “So what do you have to say for yourself?”

  “Absolutely nothing, since I’m sure you know me a helluva lot better than I know myself.” He glanced at Rory. “I’ll see you around. Or not. Ball’s in your court.”

  Her mouth trembled. “Ben…”

  His heart hurting more than he thought humanly possible, he walked out the door, convinced that his future was disintegrating to ashes behind him.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Hey, Jackson, when’s that pretty little lady of yours going to bring more cookies? We’re feeling deprived over here.”

  A volley of concurring opinions buzzed from the other guys in the wake of Nev’s shouted demand.

  Ben grunted, his concentration centered on the stacked barbell hoisted above him. His chest and arm muscles straining under 375 pounds of iron, he finished out the rep and let the weights clank back into the rack. Wiping the sweat from his brow with his forearm, he scooted up on the bench and accepted his water bottle from Michael. From the corner of his eye, he detected the eager scrutiny of his crew’s gazes burning into him from the opposite end of the station’s gym. His life was in fucking shambles, and all the greedy sons of bitches cared about was their stomachs. “So go out and buy some damn Oreos.”

  “Shit, man. That’s not the same,” Dallas crabbed. “Not cool hoarding all the homemade goods for yourself.”

  Irritable and his heart bruised, Ben abandoned the bench and stalked in the direction of the shower room, deliberately ignoring the inquisitive looks of the men camped at the card table. He swung the door hard enough it banged on the wall. That tiny release of aggression not doing much to free his tension, he kicked off his sneakers and stripped out of his sweats. He dialed the faucet in the end stall and dunked his head beneath the icy spray, the shock to
his system no less harsh than the one he’d been enduring for the last several hours.

  He shouldn’t have walked out on Rory. All that achieved was him feeling like shit, and no doubt helped to substantiate Hailey’s claim of him ultimately hurting Rory again. Groaning, he planted both fists on the tiles, the punishing needle pricks of water a welcome diversion from the chaos in his head.

  The shower room door swung open again, this time less forcefully, and Michael strode inside, concern etching his features. “Bro, what’s going on with you? Not your style to throw around a temper tantrum like that.”

  Ben slicked his hands through his hair and stared at the water eddying over the floor drain. “I fucked up. Again.”

  “You mean with Rory?”

  Nodding wearily, Ben rehashed the morning’s crappy chain of events. Michael offered him a sympathetic look. “That sucks. Do you think giving her some time will make her come around?”

  “I want to believe so, but I’ve got to stop fooling myself. She’s had ten years to build up the wall protecting her heart. I could spend twice as long as that chipping away at the cracks, trying to find a way in.”

  “Is she worth it?”

  Ben frowned. “That’s a dumbass question. Of course she is.”

  “Then find that way, amigo.”

  A glimmer of hope warmed Ben’s chest. Michael was right. He couldn’t give up on Rory. One way or another, he’d earn her trust again and show her that they did have a future together. His spirits infinitely higher than they’d been a minute ago, Ben flicked off the faucets. Michael tossed him a towel just as the alarm bell blared and central dispatch crackled over the intercom, summoning Unit 10 to their engine.

  Definitely not saved by the bell. Performing a record fast pat down with the towel, he rushed from the stall.

  “Be safe out there, bro.”

  Awarding Michael an affirmative nod, Ben sprinted past him, booking for the gear room. He had a potential forever with Rory brightening his horizon. No more fuckups were getting in his way of that goal.

  Sirens screaming, old Smokey roared onto the scene at Fifth and Union. A crowd of spectators had gathered outside the two-story Tudor. Ben shook his head. Blazes always drew the pyro gawkers out of the woodwork. Never mind that their damn lives were in danger. Leaving the crowd control in the capable hands of the attending officer on site, Ben jumped from the rig and assessed the situation. Nev joined him. “Dallas is getting the supply line connected as we speak.”

  “Occupant status?”

  “Neighbor reported to dispatch that the place is supposed to be vacant.”

  “Supposed to be?”

  “Swears she spotted some homeless squatters the other day.”

  Fuck. “What kind of shape are we in with our access points?”

  “Basement and first floor blacked out with smoke. Third level likely out of the question till we get some ventilation on that roof.”

  Ben eyed the heavy smoke billowing from the eaves. Preventing a possible flashover was definitely their number one priority—both in terms of safety for his crew and the people who might possibly be trapped inside. “Get that hoseline ready to go.” Ben grabbed his Halligan bar and a six-foot hook from the equipment box before freeing the extension ladder from its straps. Hefting it up onto one shoulder, he dashed to the side of the smoldering structure, scanning the roofline for signs of weakness. Locating a section that looked promising, he braced the ladder and telescoped it in place. He tossed the hook down for the time being, and after securing the axe in his SCBA belt, he made his way up the metal rungs and double-checked the stability of the shingled timber before venturing onto the roof. Once he’d cleared the dormer, he inspected for existing heat vents. Spotting none, he radioed Nev and gave the go ahead for a chainsaw to be sent up, along with a roof ladder.

  On the lookout for signs of potentially hazardous hot spots, Ben took a cautious step forward. That’s when he felt the telltale give of a roof going dangerously soft. Wisely deciding there was no damn way he was risking those conditions without the additional gear and backup manpower, he edged backwards, retracing his path. A waft of intense heat shimmied up his legs, a terrifying warning that came two seconds too late as Ben’s boots punched through the shingles, and he fell straight down into the smoky furnace-like blast beneath him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Why are you letting him do this to you? Again?”

  Rory snapped out of her mopey daze and blinked at Hailey. “What are you talking about?”

  “Ben. You’re debating taking him back. Admit it.”

  She flushed. “Why are you jumping to that conclusion?”

  “Oh, I dunno. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you’ve been staring into space for the last five minutes while mutilating that cake with frosting.”

  Rory glanced down at the birthday cake she’d been decorating, and grimaced. Her teeth hurt just looking at that much buttercream. She carefully set aside the icing bag before she could do any further damage. Against her will, the memory of the devotion in Ben’s eyes when he told her he loved her drifted across her conscious. The ache that’d been present in her chest all morning returned with a vengeance. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she lifted her gaze to Hailey. “What if I’m making a mistake?”

  “By not trusting him?” Hailey shook her head. “A leopard doesn’t change their spots.”

  “But what if he has? People do change, Hail.”

  “It’s easy for you to wonder that now, while he’s doing his best to win you over. But what happens a month from now, when you’re shopping for His-N-Hers towels, and Ben’s looking for an exit plan?” Hailey’s features softened. “I’m not saying this to be a mean, cranky old bitch, though I know it sounds like it. I just don’t want to see you get hurt by him again.”

  “I know.”

  Trisha chose that moment to peek her head inside the kitchen. “You guys have got to see the totes McHottie across the street. Oh. My. God.” She fanned her face frantically.

  Hailey frowned. “What the hell is a totes McHottie?”

  Rory’s thoughts returned to Ben, and she sighed. “I believe it’s another term for a walking lady boner.”

  “No shit.” Hailey dropped her pastry crimper and made a beeline for the door. Rory stayed behind in the kitchen. As far as she was concerned, the only totes McHottie she wanted to see was Ben.

  That realization stalled her short. Oh Lord. It was true. After all this time, she still loved him. Despite all her hard effort not to.

  But was that really what she was supposed to do? Lock her heart away from him forever and be miserable? Wasn’t her fear of being abandoned driving off any chances of happiness too?

  Confused and frustrated all over again, she dropped her face in her hands. The door chime peeled, breaking her from her gloomy musings. Judging from the overly exuberant greetings coming from Trisha and Hailey, Rory guestimated that the new arrival must be the McHottie. Rolling her eyes, she dug in the drawer, searching for a spatula to clean up the cake. Her hand froze in mid-motion when she heard her name being called. Curious as to why the lightly accented male voice sounded vaguely familiar, she pushed away from the counter and went to investigate. She jerked to a halt in the entryway, blinking at the sight of Michael checking Hailey out. He snapped out of his fascination with Hailey’s bountiful bosom when Rory cleared her throat. His smile dazzling against his gorgeous bronzed skin, he tossed her a wave. “Just the woman I was looking for.”

  Oh yeah? Didn’t seem like that a second ago. Biting back a smile, she joined Hailey and Trisha by the register. “Why are you here, Michael?” Her heart in her throat, she waited for him to tell her that Ben had sent him. Either to beg her to come back to him, or that he never wanted to see her again.

  “The guys are getting antsy for more cookies.”

  She didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. “Oh. So they’re making you do the dirty work, huh?”

  �
��I am the alien sex probe.”

  A choked cough sprang from Hailey. Rory patted her best friend on the back. “It’s a long story.”

  “One I clearly need to hear,” Hailey countered.

  Michael’s expression turned sheepish. “I have a confession to make. I’m not just here for the cookies.”

  Rory’s pulse sped up a notch. “You’re not?”

  He shook his head. “Ben is a really great guy. And you seem like a nice lady. Two people in love like you both obviously are, well, seems to me like the logical choice is for you to be together.”

  Hailey shot up a hand. “Whoa, let’s back this up here. Who exactly are you?”

  “He works with Ben,” Rory explained. “They’re friends.”

  “Aw, crap.” Hailey glared at Michael. “I knew you were too damn good to be true, Mr. Sexy Bedroom Eyes.”

  Michael’s smile almost took up his entire face. “You think I’m sexy?”

  Hailey squinted. “Yes, but I’m way over you now, so don’t go getting any ideas.”

  Rory sucked in a breath and expelled it slowly, steeling herself. “Is Ben behind you telling me all of this?”

  “Not directly. But we had a heart-to-heart earlier, and it inspired me to stick my nose in.”

  “Yeah, very annoying trait that is too,” Hailey interjected.

  “Almost as aggravating as being a hypocrite.” Rory gave a pointed cough that resulted in Hailey finding a sudden interest in buffing a nonexistent smudge from the counter.

  “He’s crazy about you.” Absolute conviction rang in Michael’s voice. “He’s the kind of guy who will fight to the death for you. Amigos like that don’t come along every day.”