Stay: Changing Tides, Book 1

by Candi Wall

  “And hurt.”

  She tried to disagree, but when he closed the distance between them and grabbed her arm, she couldn’t do more than stare. “Your leg is bleeding through your jeans.”

  Crud. “It’s fine.”

  “So you say.” His voice dropped to a low, heated tone. “But I’m not letting you leave until I make sure.”

  “You want—” She’d slept with the guy and yet the thought of dropping her pants in front of him had her throat constricting. “I don’t think so.”

  “I do.” His hand moved down her arm before he spun her slightly to look at the back of her leg. “There’s a good amount of blood. Everyone else noticed it as well.”

  Heat from his body coursed over her back and shoulder, the firm pressure of his hand holding her in place. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  “Then it shouldn’t be a problem if I look.”

  “No.”

  “No, what?”

  Humor riddled his question. “No you’re not looking. I’ll check it when I get home.”

  “Abby, stop being foolish.” He prodded the back of her thigh, and it stung like hell. “There could have been anything in that old house. It’s been condemned for years now. What if it was a rusty piece of metal that cut you? Just let me look.”

  “I’m fine.” She tried to pull from his grasp but her knee buckled. She bit her lip to stifle the cry. Hell of a time for her leg to give out.

  With an angry growl, Brack grabbed a fire jacket from its hook and tossed it over her shoulders. “You can let me look or I’m calling Linwood back here to help me.”

  Oh, that was just what she needed. She could imagine explaining her reluctance to the old man. Defeat made a broad stroke in her chest, and she grabbed the buckle of her belt. “Fine. But I really think you’re being ridiculous.”

  Her fingers shook almost to the point of spasms, but she managed to get the buckle loose. She didn’t dare even glance at him as she turned and grabbed the metal bar near the door of the fire engine. With her bad leg so weak, she balanced on her good leg as she slid the zipper down.

  “Hang on. Come over here so I can see.” Brack’s hands closed over hers, and he drew her across the room. He flipped the light on above the gear table and waited.

  She turned away, her heart in her throat. “This is embarrassing.”

  His hand closed over the back of her jeans and tugged. “I’m your captain right now. That’s all.”

  Right. A captain with warm hands that traced the tender skin at the back of her thigh. A captain kneeling, his face at eye level with her ass. A captain who… His touch nearly sent her through the ceiling. “Ow, that hurts. What are you doing?”

  His low chuckle rumbled through the bay. “Don’t be a baby. It’s just a scratch.”

  “I told you.” She moved to pull her jeans back up, but he held the material firm.

  “Not so quick. It’s still deep enough that I need to clean and bandage it.” He stood and walked into his office.

  The soft shuffle of him searching magnified her predicament. If anyone came in right now, she’d be mortified. Standing in a huge yellow jacket with her pants around her knees… Did it get much more humbling? “Hurry up, Brack.”

  He returned a moment later and laughter lit in his eyes. “You know, this would be one hell of a picture for the annual fire calendar we sell.”

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  He set the bandages and tape next to her on the bench. “You sure?” His gaze traced her body. “You could pull the edge of that jacket up a bit, give a peek at that lacy thong. Bet we’d sell more copies than ever before.”

  Confusion rattled her brain. Was he flirting? His mood shifts were going to drive her insane. “Could you just finish up?”

  Warm fingers brushed her thigh as he worked, and she fisted her hands to squelch the reaction to his touch. Even the sting of the alcohol swab didn’t help, and she tried to shift away from his heat.

  “Hold still.” His hand circled her thigh, each long finger pressed into her sensitive skin.

  She couldn’t breathe and closed her eyes, picturing herself anywhere but in this moment. Silence filled the space as he worked, broken only by his low breathing and the occasional sound of the bandage packaging. By the time he’d ripped off a second piece of tape, her nerves were fried.

  Every portion of her body screamed for his touch. Her insides were on fire, her body aching with the close proximity to the man who could satisfy every craving his touch created. She couldn’t block the memories from her mind, and her traitorous libido just exacerbated every sigh until her stomach muscles coiled with need. “Please hurry.”

  Brack glanced up to meet her gaze, and she dug her hands into the bench, trying to control her ragged breathing. A dull heat rushed her cheeks, and she swiped at the wisps of soot-tinged hair curling against her skin.

  He wanted her. Every claim of the opposite melted away when their eyes locked. He wanted to feel her touch again as much as she wanted his. He stood, keeping his body close. “There. All done.”

  She turned into him, pulling her jeans up quickly. “Will I live?”

  He leaned closer and braced a hand on the bench behind her, pinning her in the circle of his arms. Ducking his head closer, he brushed her hair behind an ear. “I think so.”

  Her head dipped slightly into his touch without her permission. Damn him. He felt it. Even after his statement that what they’d shared was a mistake. The same intense attraction that had led them to her bedroom erupted again. Only stronger.

  “I—I’d better go.” No more than a whisper passed her lips. If their first time together had caused this much distress, she couldn’t imagine what would happen if they fell into each other again. “Before we make another mistake.”

  He stepped back, his gaze intense. For a moment, he just stood there. Then with an almost imperceptible breath, he shook his head. “Would it be a mistake?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Panic closed in around her, and she stared at him, dumbfounded. “Don’t, Brack.”

  He stepped closer, pinning her to the bench. “Don’t what? Want you?” A laugh barked out, echoing in the large fire bay. “I told you I can’t help it.”

  He leaned in to brush his lips over hers and she couldn’t resist. Her hands shook as she traced the lines of his sweatshirt, alternating between tiny pulls and pushes.

  “You’d better learn,” she whispered.

  He inhaled against her skin. “You’re too good a teacher.”

  Her arms moved around his neck, and she clung to him as he kissed the pulse at her throat, his hand finding the skin of her waist beneath her shirt. Her body responded, need punching out a frantic beat in her veins until his moan shattered her bid for control.

  “I want you, Abby.”

  Abby whimpered, fusing their mouths together as he lifted her to sit on the bench. She coiled her legs high around his hips, holding him close as she took control of their kiss. He wanted her. But for how long? Until a call came in, or his damn reasoning of right and wrong mixed around in his mind? Until he came out of the foggy passion enveloping them and recognized the reality of what they’d done? Again. Then what? More silent, stilted meetings. More confused and dream-filled nights.

  She’d meant to stay away. Meant to keep a distance between them, and yet she’d fallen right into his touch and the intoxicating heat of his kiss. This needed to stop. They’d barely spoken a word since their last encounter, and today, just hours ago he’d repeated what she’d already known. The first time had been a mistake. The second could spell disaster.

  She ripped away from his kiss, battling for a steady breath. “Brack, stop.”

  His hands gripped at her waist, eyes hooded with desire stared up at her. His expression tightened, his eyes roaming over their entangled bodies. Slowly, his hands dropped away and he stepped back. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  Guilt suffused her. “I never sho
uld have pushed you the first time.”

  “No.” He pulled a hand through his hair. “I blamed you earlier, and I shouldn’t have. It’s my own doing. I’m a grown man. Somehow, you just make me forget. Make me lose control. I can’t help wanting you.”

  “But you only want me in the moment.” She slid down from the table. “Then your senses return. I don’t want to be your guilt. I don’t want to make you unhappy. If we can’t share this—this indescribable attraction between us—without regret, then we shouldn’t take this any further. You said so yourself. It was a mistake before. One we shouldn’t make again.”

  He stepped closer, his eyes intense. “But you defined us after we had sex. You said there was nothing more to it than that. You never said what is it you want, Abby.”

  Was there definition? Him, without him suffering for what they shared. The ability to stay away from his body, to brush him out of her mind. To sleep at night without an aching emptiness in her stomach that had never been there before his touch and his smile. So many wants… But the most frightening of all was how badly she wanted to try. To accept what was between them and maybe, just maybe, stay…

  “I don’t know anymore.” She pulled on her jacket. “But I do want the confusion I feel to go away. And it won’t, not if we keep doing this. Keeping it casual would work for me, but not this stilted, angry silence afterward. I’d rather have you as a friend than a lover.”

  “Could you at least tell me why things have to be so casual?” He glanced away for a moment before continuing. “We might have gone about this in backward order, but I really enjoy being around you. Is it possible to just spend some time together? No secrecy. No pressure. Just see how things go?”

  God, she’d never been so tempted in her life. She’d made friends in all the places she’d travelled, even went out on a few dates. But Brack and Jonathon, they offered something she’d never even dared let fester in her mind. Home. Family. Stability. Ignoring those unobtainable dreams had been easy before Brack. And there was the crux. “Brack. Maybe, I mean if things were different, if I were different. But I don’t plan to be here long.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll leave before long.” She would. She had to. Didn’t she?

  “Why?” He rubbed her arms. “I don’t want you to go. Neither does Jonathon.”

  His brows furrowed and for the briefest moment, she let herself absorb his reaction, tucking it away for a lonely time. Knowing he wanted her to stay was—precious. But there were some things she just wasn’t ready to share. “I have my reasons.”

  “And you won’t share them?”

  “We all have demons, Brack. Are you ready to tell me the details of your past? All the reasons you can be so damn stubborn when it comes to following rules?”

  For a moment she thought he might answer, but his pager stalled whatever he may have said in response. Six more pagers charging on the bench sounded in time. She grabbed one and clasped it to her jacket, glad for the interruption.

  Brack stared a moment longer, then as if he’d come to some conclusion, he pointed to a large bag with another pager sitting next to it. “That one is yours, along with your gear. Skip this call. You can come next time.”

  She grabbed his arm. “Wait! Why can’t I come along?”

  He shifted, refusing to meet her gaze. “You need to rest your leg.”

  “My leg?” The urge to throw something at him reared its ugly head, and she glanced at the helmets on the bench. “So my leg was just fine for a quick screw on the workbench, but not for a call?”

  He groaned and headed for the door. “Grab your shit.”

  “Good choice, Captain.”

  The fractured headlamp flickered dull to bright against the snow packed around it. Brack grabbed the van’s rear wheel, now head high from the awkward tilt of the overturned vehicle, and passed a neck brace to Linwood.

  Sam glanced at him through the shattered passenger side window, where he sat across from Linwood on one of the backseats. “She’s stable, Captain. Some minor cuts and bruises, but nothing that looks life-threatening.”

  “The ambulance is ten minutes out. Hold her neck still.” Brack patted Amber’s shoulder. “I called your mom. She’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  Amber blinked through the blood encrusted on her forehead and eyes. “She’s going to kill me for wrecking her van.”

  “I’m sure she’s just glad you’re okay.” He tried to sound convincing. “I’ll be back in a minute. Hang in there, kid.”

  Thin black ice covered the roads, crunching under his boots as he neared the fire truck. Linda and Jensen were standing to one side as he approached. “Take Engine Two back to the station. We’re all set now, and the ambulance will need room to get in.”

  Jensen responded, but Brack didn’t hear a word. Abby drew his attention.

  She stood at the edge of the road, her body engulfed by her fire gear. Allen shouted to her from his position on traffic control about fifty yards in the opposite direction. “Crazy drivers. Let’s keep ’em slow.”

  Some of the cars drove past at an insane rate for the icy conditions, and several times, Abby stepped into the lane to slow them down. Anger etched her features, and the sharp waving motions she sent to the motorists confirmed her frustration.

  “Burke, get back before someone hits you,” he hollered.

  “Allen and I have it under control.” She sent him a cursory glance and stepped back—an inch. “If I move back any farther I won’t be able to see around the rescue truck.”

  “She’s following protocol.” Jacob’s voice broke into his inattention. “Quit singling her out, man. Or give Allen the same command. Unless you want everyone thinking you’re into her or something.”

  “They know better than that,” Brack snarled. Older brother or not, Jacob needed to butt out.

  He kept his attention on Abby as she and Allen stepped out into the traffic, using their flashlights and safety lights to direct the cars toward the other side of the road. Between the two of them, they stopped all the drivers from both directions as the bright lights from the ambulance mingled with the rescue truck’s flashers.

  “Whatever you say.” Jacob shrugged and glanced at the men waiting near the van. “We’re going to have to stabilize the van to get her out.”

  Cursing, Brack refused to look Abby’s way again. Her mere presence managed to take his concentration away from the emergency at hand.

  This had to stop. Bungling between wanting her and hating his reaction would unhinge his mind if he wasn’t careful. Better to let it go. The confused feelings she evoked would have to be tempered, locked away. No other choice remained. Especially if she’d meant what she’d said about leaving.

  He focused on the accident scene and grabbed several long-handled pry-bars from the rescue truck as he passed. Tossing one to Rand, he wedged himself behind the van and waited until his brother found a solid footing.

  The incline of the road slanted sharply and he nodded in the direction of the front of the van. “We’ll just give enough support to keep it from tipping until they get her out.”

  Rand gripped the bar tight in his gloved hands. “Say when, Captain.”

  Two EMTs came over with a stretcher. The taller of the two snapped a pair of rubber gloves on as he slid down the snowy embankment to the van. “Howdy, boys. Any changes in our patient since last update?”

  Brack grimaced. Vincent Ackerman. His least favorite of the ambulance crew. “No change. But you’re going to have to wait until we brace it. Unless you feel like going for a ride.”

  He smirked, his blond eyebrows arching. “Captain’s in a mood. So who’s in trouble this time?”

  Several unidentifiable voices echoed “Burke” to answer his question but Brack ignored them. “Let’s just get this done.”

  Vincent nodded toward the road. “The newbie yelling at the drivers?”

  This time Rand responded. “That’s the one. Our newest member.”


  “Looker too.” Vincent whistled.

  “Ex Coast Guard.” From someone.

  “Got a temper.” From someone else…

  Brack grit his teeth. “You boys think you can focus here?”

  With a low chuckle, Vincent climbed down next to the van and smiled at Amber. “Amber, you really should have just come by the station if you wanted to see me so badly.”

  Like him or not, Brack had to admit the man had a way with easing the minds of his patients.

  “I’ll be sure to do that next time,” Amber responded.

  “Let’s get you out of here.” Vincent glanced at the van. “What’s the plan?”

  “Bit wobbly for my liking.” Brack nodded toward Rand. “We’ll brace it while you get her out.”

  Brack rammed the end of his pry-bar into the ground and dug for a solid hold. He leaned into the metal, and with the added pressure of Rand’s strength, the van shuddered but held still. He nodded to Vincent. “Make it quick.”

  The man disappeared around the vehicle and a moment later, the low moan of metal creaked as weight shifted.

  Linwood appeared at his side, his gnarled hands wrapping around the upper portion of the pry-bar. “Damn mess, this one.”

  Brack nodded as his brother’s strained growl echoed the tightness in his own muscles. “You good, Rand?”

  “Good to go, Captain.” Rand’s position hid his expression, but his voice grated.

  Wind rocked the tall pines overhead, sending a shower of snow and ice to clatter against the van. A curtain of white drifted through the trees, melting as soon as the flakes touched the glassy road. Vincent called for Linwood, and the older man hurried around.

  Adjusting his stance to balance more of the strain, Brack listened to the quiet conversation between Vincent and Amber when the low rumble of anti-lock brakes dragged his attention to the road. Swaying headlights from a large truck hurtled down the slick tar, the beams of its headlights swaying across the road. The end of the truck slid sideways in almost a complete broadside position.

  Nausea laced his throat.

  “Burke!” He shifted to see around the van. Her position from earlier would leave her directly in the truck’s path.