Smoldering Heart_Fleming Brothers [Book 1]

by Jennifer Vester

  My gaze roamed over to where Owen had been laying on the floor, and I saw the pink flower vase I had used to hit him with still sitting on its side.

  Owen.

  I still felt bad about it, and yesterday he'd literally moaned like he was in a lot of pain at the hospital. He seemed to be okay by the time we left, but I couldn’t tell whether he was faking it for my dad’s sake, or whether he was honestly feeling better.

  His eyes had touched mine several times. Not in reproach, but something else. The thoughts I'd when they did, had me blushing when we left.

  He and his brother did look very similar, but there was something about Owen.

  Maybe it was just my reaction to him. It bothered me, and yet intrigued me at the same time. It wasn’t going to go anywhere. That would be ridiculous with his job and home located an entire state away. But it was an interesting night just thinking about him. So interesting that I had several lusty dreams before I woke up and had to touch myself in order to sleep.

  That hadn’t happened in a very, very long time.

  Oh, well. He would be gone soon, and I had more important things to think about. A life to get back to. Those eyes of his, though. His face. That solid body.

  I shook my head trying to clear my thoughts.

  “Stop, thinking about him,” I mumbled to myself. As if that was going to work.

  I walked carefully toward the back of the shop, trying to avoid anything that looked like the fugitive’s body fluids.

  When I opened the doors to the back room, I was prepared for more chaos. In fact, I was expecting to see something that looked like a bomb had gone off with all the noise I'd heard yesterday. But that wasn’t the case.

  I blinked and stood still for a minute. What the hell?

  The work tables were cluttered. That was definitely something that had not been there the day before. There were a couple of chairs stacked on the tables and several items that I had on the floor the day prior. Two receipt boxes, several glass vases, and a decorative pottery piece sat beside the chairs.

  The floor looked normal. Really normal. Probably cleaner than it had been all week. I was great with building a nice floral arrangement, but I had the tendency to let the shop get a little messy with leftover clippings during the week.

  I looked at the back door, just as it opened and saw Owen walking through.

  My mouth opened for a second, but nothing came out.

  He was wearing jeans and a black thermal shirt that hugged every muscled part of his arms and chest. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, and he had a frown on his face as he studied the floor.

  I cleared my throat.

  He glanced at me with his green eyes and gave me a smile that hit me firmly in the gut.

  “Hey, Madison,” he said in a tone that suggested we were more than strangers. “Mopped the floors in here. But I was thinking I might need to do them again. We made a mess yesterday.”

  I frowned. “How did you get in here?”

  “Would it sound really bad if I said I broke in?” he asked with a smile.

  I gave him a slightly disapproving look. “Uhm, yeah?”

  He gave me a shrug. “Uhm, then your father gave me a key. Let’s just say it was that. The police called last night, and said they were done so I thought I would clean up the mess before you got here.”

  He moved into the room, and slowly walked toward me. The way he approached was like someone trying not to scare someone else, but at the same time very predatory. His eyes held mine for a minute until I remembered to blink.

  Then I saw his eyes drop to my mouth, and I took a small breath of air.

  “Shit,” I mumbled.

  He tilted his head and arched his eyebrow. “Hmm?”

  I shook my head and smiled nervously when he reached me. “Nothing. It looks good in here. I can get the rest.”

  He stared at me for a minute and his jaw clenched so subtly that I nearly didn’t catch it.

  “I’ll get it. It’s the least I can do.”

  His nose flared as he leaned in just a fraction like he was trying to smell something.

  “You smell like cookies.”

  I was confused for a second then held up my hand. “Lotion. My hands get dry.”

  He reached out and carefully took my hand in his. He ran his finger along the side of my thumb before he lifted it to his nose.

  His eyes shut for a brief second as he inhaled the scent.

  “Hmm,” he growled then he kissed the center and let go.

  My hand hung in the air for a second while I processed what he'd done. My body felt like it was suddenly on fire with tingles running up my sides. I shivered, then backed away from him.

  “I can get it. I think it would be better if I cleaned it up. I know where everything goes.”

  He smirked at me and came closer, causing me to step back against the wall. When he turned to push the door open to the shop, he brushed against me but didn’t seem to notice.

  He looked out into the shop and made a face. “Nope. I’ve got this.”

  I opened my mouth to protest.

  “BUT before you argue—”

  “What makes you think I would?”

  “Your dad filled me in, sweet-tart. About your stubborn streak.”

  My mouth flew open and I gasped. “He didn’t!”

  He gave me a smug smile. “He sure did. Anyway, why don’t you get things back in place back here.”

  He hooked a hand around my waist and moved me into the center of the room. His chest was against my back then suddenly I felt his breath on my neck.

  “I have an idea where things go but you should probably rearrange it yourself. I would be far more useful on mop duty,” he whispered.

  My back straightened as I shivered, and I bit my lip. When I turned back he was already headed through the door to the shop.

  “What the fuck?” I mumbled.

  I shivered again and shook my head.

  He walked by me, heading toward the back door.

  “Don’t have all day if you want to reopen the shop sometime this century.”

  “I’m okay doing this on my own, you know!”

  He stuck his head back in the door and smiled. “I know.”

  Before I could say anything else, he disappeared again. I moved forward and began to clear the pile of paperwork off the desk. I watched him out of the corner of my eye filling the mop bucket with water out of my sink. He whistled a quiet tune as he turned the faucet off and rolled it to the front of the shop.

  The rest of the morning was spent on reorganizing things while Owen went back and forth through the workroom with his bucket. Catching sight of the dirty water he was hauling away, made me thankful that he was dealing with it rather than me.

  It was a nice gesture but every time he walked by, I could feel his eyes wandering over me. It was a subtle awareness and nothing overt. Not like the kiss he had given me on my palm. Which still tingled slightly when I thought about it.

  He seemed friendly enough, and I was probably reading the situation wrong due to my dreams the night before. Ones that included a lot more than kissing and were extremely vivid. His rough hands on me, his tongue on me, his teeth nipping at me.

  I took a deep breath as I put one of the paperwork boxes near my desk.

  “Stop thinking about it. It’s not going to happen. You don’t date,” I mumbled.

  “What were you saying?” Owen asked from across the room.

  I looked back and saw him digging in a backpack. It was black and appeared worn. He pulled out a bottle of water and took a drink before glancing over at me.

  “Want one?” he asked.

  I shook my head and turned back to my desk. I sat down for a moment to rest on the chair I had brought over a few minutes prior.

  I heard his footsteps behind me and turned to see him bringing over another chair. He flipped it backward and sat staring at me while he drank his water.

  He handed me a bottled water anyway
, and a granola bar.

  “So, what’s the deal?” he asked while eyeing me.

  “What’s what deal?” I frowned, trying to look like I was doing something on my desk. I put a pencil back in my drawer and turned back to him.

  “I just find it interesting that the woman who clobbered me on the head—”

  “I thought you—”

  “I know. I just find it interesting that the woman who clobbered a suspected bad guy over the head is so quiet. Your dad said you were very verbal.”

  My eyes flashed at him. “I am verbal, just not around strangers, and men who break into my shop.”

  “To mop the floor, sweetheart.”

  “Even to mop the floor. I don’t know you, although I’m sorry about what happened. I just froze. I wasn’t sure what to do.”

  “It’s okay. I understand. I have to hunt that little shit down again, before he does something more serious than convince a beautiful woman that he’s innocent, though.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Anyway,” he said, and took a sip of his water again. “So, let’s get this out of the way. Would you like to have dinner with me sometime? Now that I’m not on your floor bleeding?”

  I watched his lips touch the edge of the bottle as he waited for me to answer and felt my cheeks warm.

  I let out a small laugh. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “Why not?” he asked, his expression showing surprise at my reply.

  “Uhm,” I said, struggling with what to say. “I don’t date.”

  He visibly blanched and gave me a strange look. “Why the fuck not? Are men in this city blind? I’m sure you’ve had plenty that have asked.”

  I opened my mouth then clamped it shut.

  He gave me a look like he was waiting on an answer.

  “I’ve had a few people ask. There’s a guy that’s asked me several times.”

  “Is he a douchebag?”

  I shifted so that I was facing him completely and glared at him.

  “No, he’s not a douchebag, he’s just not my type.”

  He gave me an amused look. “You have a type? Define it. And before you get out of sorts, I’m just making sure I fit the criteria completely.”

  I huffed. He was getting annoying with the questions.

  I held up my hand and started ticking off random things I liked.

  “Nice, polite, funny, tall, good-looking, well read, and holds an occupation that won’t get him killed.”

  Owen looked like he was thinking about that for a minute. “That’s totally me in a nutshell. I thought you might have listed likes to shop, loves cats, and has a man bag. Because that wouldn’t be me. The way I see it, I’m your perfect guy.”

  “Uhm, no, you forgot that last little bit in there about not having a job that would get you killed. That doesn’t fit you at all. The last time I checked, you carried a gun and went chasing down alleys after dangerous fugitives.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Please. He wasn’t that dangerous.”

  “He had a gun, you idiot. Who does that for a living thinking that it won’t catch up with them? It’s dangerous.”

  “Okay, so tell me about the douchebag that’s asked you out. What does he do that doesn’t fit into that stupid list of yours?”

  I tilted my head and looked at him. Stupid?

  “It’s not a stupid list. And he’s an architect if you really want to know.”

  “So, he’s really ugly?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Not hearing anything here that makes sense, princess. Wait, you’re not one of those women that has some vision in her head that she’ll run off with Gerard Butler someday are you?”

  “No, of course not,” I said, and unwrapped the granola bar.

  He pointed at himself. “Fantasy man right here.”

  I shook my head and took a bite of the bar. “You couldn’t possibly be well read, so that’s two things against you.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. The timber of his voice, and the wide smile on his face nearly made me laugh with him.

  The smile he had on his face was sexy and made my stomach flutter when he turned it on me. He may not have been my type necessarily, but there was something completely magnetic about him. I couldn’t deny that it intrigued me.

  Still chuckling he said, “You have no idea how long a stakeout can take. I read a lot.”

  I pursed my lips. “Articles in porn mags don’t count as literature.”

  His eyebrow arched. “I think you’d be surprised by who has actually published articles in porn mags. But no, I wasn’t talking about that, unless you’d like to read a few articles in them with me.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, but felt my body heat up thinking of doing anything like that with him.

  “Ahh, she blushes,” he said, as his eyes danced around my face, and he gave me a grin.

  “Shut up. So, you read actual books without pictures?”

  “Yeah, I like to read. Just don’t tell Noah, he thinks I’m a bumbling idiot, too. I just finished a mystery novel. Lots of guns and bad guys, but the guy got the girl in the end. Was a little mushy, I skipped that part.”

  “Whatever.”

  “I take it you like to read. What else?”

  I took a bite of the granola bar and chewed it while I thought of a different excuse.

  “I don’t really have time to date. I’m here all day, and then dad needs things done sometimes. I organize some luncheons for him and the other guys. That takes a lot of time.”

  “The other guys, as in other firefighters?”

  “Yeah, they get together every once in a while. It’s a small department. He has some things with the retired guys, and always says he needs help but any of those guys could figure it out on their own. Then I read and watch movies. I occasionally hang out with my sister or friends.”

  I took another bite of the granola and chewed. I had plenty of things on my plate, and that didn’t include getting wrapped up in a relationship that would be disappointing.

  I’m not sure why I cared what he thought about it, but for some reason my lack of dating experience sounded ridiculous in a way.

  “So, what about you? Since you’re so nosy about my dating life. I take it that you date quite a bit. How does that work out with your out of town trips? A girl in every city? Or do you just love them and leave them?”

  He smirked. “Is that a sneaky way of asking me if I’m single?”

  “No, I’m just making a point. I wouldn’t think that your life would be particularly perfect for dating either.”

  For some reason, I felt a pang of jealousy that he might actually have someone he dated at home. As illogical as it sounded, I didn’t want him to be the type of person that had multiple women following him around. But he was gorgeous. Dark hair, green eyes, and even when he smelled like sweat and mop water, he was still sexy as hell.

  “I haven’t been out on a date in a long time. But I have dated,” he answered carefully.

  “A week ago isn’t a long time.”

  He chuckled. “No, I haven’t dated anyone since last year. We split, and I just decided that if I was going to date again, it better be worth it.”

  “So, it’s meaningless sex in every city?” I asked sarcastically, before I could stop myself.

  His eyebrow arched. “The only meaningless sex I’ve ever had is with my hand, sweetheart.”

  I felt my face flush and burn. Why had I said that?

  My stomach growled.

  He stood up and grabbed the bottle of water out of my hand along with the half-eaten granola bar. He set both carefully on the desk.

  “I wasn’t finished with that.”

  He took my hand and pulled me up until I was standing in front of him.

  “If we’re going to have a lunch date, then we need to have lunch. Food needs to be involved. What’s good around here?”

  I took a swipe at his shoulder and tried to move around him. “We�
��re not on a lunch date, Owen.”

  He grabbed me by the hip and spun me in the direction of the back door. “I beg to differ. You’re eating and we’re talking. It’s lunchtime and it’s exactly like a date. But I think we should take this someplace else.”

  I stopped in my tracks when I didn’t feel his hand on my hip anymore. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw him dig around in his old backpack and produce a blue shirt.

  “What…” I started to ask.

  He pulled off his thermal, and I lost my breath. The muscles in his arms and chest moved as he slid it over his head. He had a tribal tattoo that covered one of his pecks and it looked like he had both nipples pierced with a bar.

  He folded the shirt before he stuffed it back in his bag and looked up at me.

  The smirk on his face had my cheeks burning, and I realized I was flat out staring at him. He was just as gorgeous out of his shirt as he was in it.

  I turned and faced the back door. “Uhm, are you eating without your shirt on? I think you need to be dressed. With clothes. Maybe a jacket.”

  I bit my lip. Why the hell did I say that? I was babbling at this point and sounded like an idiot. No. More like a teenager seeing a sexy and very, very healthy male for the first time.

  Suddenly I felt his hand at my hip again, and I gasped.

  His mouth was at my ear, nearly touching it. “I’m dressed. I just needed to put on something that didn’t have anything else on it.”

  I swallowed hard and shivered. “I don’t think we should go out. Maybe you should just go and get something.”

  “No. We’re going together.”

  “I have a granola,” I squeaked as I felt his lips brush my ear.

  “Your stomach was growling. I have some other snacks in my backpack. But if we stay here, and I watch you blush one more time, then I’m going to put good use to that work table of yours and bend you over on it. I’m trying to be a nice guy. Isn’t that on your list?”

  “Fuck.” I mumbled and blinked when I imagined it.

  “That’s generally what I was thinking,” he growled, and pressed his hips against me. A hard bulge settled against the top of my ass. “I noticed in that little list of yours that you didn’t say I was ugly. I think you said good-looking. Am I good-looking enough?”

  Blinking a few times, I opened my mouth then clamped it shut. No, I definitely didn’t need a second look to know that he was very, very good-looking. Ruggedly handsome had been my first thought while he was laying on my floor. That was really inadequate now. Hot. Very hot with a mixture of steamy and sexy as hell might have described what I had just seen.