Bad Boy's Kiss (Firemen in Love Book 2)

by Amy Starling

  Picking vegetables was okay, but it wasn't enough. I wanted to move my body, to use my muscles that I'd worked so hard to build. I wanted to feel like a man again.

  Suddenly, the water cut off all by itself.

  “Shit. Now of all times; really?”

  I had almost finished rinsing the floor down, too. Back outside I went to see what was the matter. That's when I spotted the crack in the hose, all the way down where the spigot was. Water gushed out of the slivered cut, making it impossible to keep on with my task.

  I felt like kicking a chicken across the yard to vent my frustration. Stupid birds were lucky my legs didn't work right then.

  “Hope you're happy, Anna.” Then the pond caught my attention. “Ah. Perfect.”

  The little pond, full of catfish and ducks that skimmed the surface for a meal of bugs or whatever they ate, was quite close to the chicken house. I just needed a little more water to finish the job.

  Feeling pretty clever, I took an empty bucket with me down to the water's edge. But leaning over to fill the bucket was harder than I thought it'd be.

  “C'mon... Just a little bit closer...”

  Being high as a kite, I'd forgotten to set the brake on my wheels. The chair started rolling down the slope, and it happened so fast I couldn't react.

  The chair hit a rock; I went flying into the mud. It kept going, careening down the embankment until finally coming to a stop in the water with a tremendous splash.

  I clutched my throbbing leg as the chair sank into the murky depths. My wheelchair, the only method I had of getting around, was gone. No way could I swim out there to get it.

  My stupid leg hurt something fierce, too. That probably meant I'd be spending an extra few weeks off my feet. Damn it!

  “So much for avoiding pain pills.”

  I reached into my pocket, pulled the bottle out, and downed two of them without any water.

  I called Anna's phone next. It rolled over to voice mail. Trey, then. No answer. Rachael?

  Forget about it. After she ran out of the house crying the other day, for reasons not even her boyfriend could figure out, I wasn't gonna mess with her.

  Instead, I lay on my back in the dirt and closed my eyes. Didn't take long for some fire ants to come along and bite me on the back.

  While I cursed and slapped the bastards away, a chicken must have decided I was worm food. She waddled over to me and nipped at my face with her beak, squawking like she'd just gotten her revenge.

  So much for feeling like a man again, huh?

  Chapter 14 - Anna

  The doctor frowned. I could tell he was trying to keep the mood cheerful, but as he studied my charts, even I knew something wasn't quite right.

  “Your weigh-in last time was one twenty seven.” He adjusted his glasses and flipped the page. “This time, you're sitting at one twenty nine. You've only gained two pounds in a month?”

  I shrugged. Who knew? I thought it was fairly impressive given all the junk food I'd been devouring. I guess when you're pregnant, you're supposed to gain weight, not almost lose it.

  “Now, Anna, you know the importance of a healthy diet right now.” His tone was stern, like that of a concerned father.

  “You don't need to tell me, I promise. I eat plenty. My mother actually told me I was getting fat.”

  I laughed. He didn't.

  “Is there something wrong, doctor?”

  He stacked my charts neatly and typed some numbers into the computer. “No, nothing wrong, exactly. It's just that we like to see a bit more weight gain by this time. It's still early on, so it could be nothing.”

  I peered down at my belly. To me, it looked as if I had swallowed a watermelon. Maybe there was a reason nobody had commented on the baby yet – because to them, I might have looked a bit pudgy and nothing more.

  “I can assure you I eat a ton. Plenty of meat, eggs, dairy. Big salads every day with lots of dressing. Dessert daily, too. You would think a large slice of blackberry pie every night would be enough to get me packing on the pounds.”

  This seemed to disturb him even more, rather than reassure him I was doing everything right.

  “I'd like you to come back in again next week for another weigh-in.” He wrote the details on a card for the receptionist. “And we'll have an ultrasound done as well. Just to be on the safe side.”

  As I checked out of the appointment, I grew steadily more and more worried. Why wasn't I gaining weight?

  Come to think of it, the other pregnant women in the clinic were much larger than me. I thought one woman surely was about to pop, but she told me she was only six months!

  I didn't want to be huge, but I didn't want to sacrifice the baby's health either. I'd eat pizza and burgers every single night if that's what it took to get my weight up.

  At least Max would like that. He complained every time I put a salad in front of him.

  “Oh, yeah.” I took out my phone. “Better ask if he's thought of dinner tonight.”

  One missed call from him? Strange. I redialed his number, but no answer.

  Max was a big boy, and I figured he could handle himself. Yeah, maybe it was dumb to leave him alone in my house. I didn't know him that well.

  Even so, I felt this connection to him, like some kind of innate trust, in a way I never experienced with Rich. Could've been my subconscious trying to tell me something.

  I went to the store, grabbed some things, and headed home. By the time I got back, the sun was setting. I hauled the groceries inside and immediately noticed how quiet it was.

  “Max?”

  No reply. My stomach twisted.

  Fearing the worse, like maybe he fell in the shower and broke his neck, I checked every room of the house. But he was nowhere to be seen.

  Okay, maybe he was on the porch. Nope. His RV was still here, and the van too, so he hadn't bailed on me. But then where did he go?

  “Max!”

  “Hmm? Down here.”

  I could barely see him in the waning sunlight, but followed his voice to the pond.

  “Where are you? I can't – ahh!”

  I tripped over what I thought was a log. It was only Max, lying in the dirt. He opened his eyes and looked up at me, this expression of sadness and regret on his face.

  “What the heck are you doing on the ground? Where's your chair?”

  He sighed and pointed to the pond. If I looked hard enough, I could see one of the wheels sticking up out of the water.

  “Do I even ask what happened?”

  “I screwed up. That's what happened.” He made no move to sit. “Just like I always screw up. Everything I do turns out wrong lately.”

  Somehow, in the few hours I had left him alone, he'd changed. He wouldn't look at me. He talked so softly, I could barely hear him.

  “Sit tight, okay? I'll get the chair.”

  He just grumbled to himself while I figured out how I was to accomplish this. I really didn't want to get in that water, but didn't see any other option.

  I took off my shoes and waded in up to my ankles, glad that I had worn shorts today. The water was still warm from the heat of the day, at least.

  “You're getting in there?”

  “Someone has to do it.”

  Slimy catfish bumped into my legs as I sloshed in deeper. By the time I reached the sunken chair, I was in up to my waist. Yuck; nothing worse than wet clothes.

  I nabbed the chair by a handlebar and pulled it out of the mud, then returned to the shore.

  “It's a mess, but still looks like it works. Let me dry it off for you.”

  Max didn't say much while I toweled the chair off. Should I press him for details? Was he hurt from the fall?

  “So, uh... Are you okay? It looks like you took quite a spill.”

  “Go ahead and rub it in.”

  I threw the towel down. “I'm just trying to be nice, you know. I try to look out for you, and you're gonna be a prick to me about it?”

  He lifted himself back into
the chair with a hefty sigh. “I'm fine. My leg hurt for a while, but a couple of painkillers wiped that out soon enough.”

  It was dusk, and the mosquitoes were starting to bite like crazy. Figuring we could talk inside, I started to push him toward the ramp.

  He grunted and nudged me away from him, then wheeled himself back to the house.

  His refusal to accept my help stung. He'd been this way since the day he moved in with me, but seemed to be getting worse lately, as if sinking into a bottomless pit of depression.

  Inside, he went right to the kitchen and pulled a beer from the fridge. He downed the whole bottle in five big gulps, then went for another. Worry swelled in my chest.

  “I don't think you should be drinking if you're taking those pills. You could have a bad reaction.”

  “Don't tell me what to do.”

  I felt like slapping him. Instead, I planted myself right in front of his chair so he couldn't open the fridge anymore. He glared.

  “I want to know what happened.”

  He threw the bottle at the trash can and missed. “I was trying to make myself useful and failed.”

  “But you do make yourself useful. You help me as much as you can, and given the circumstances, I'm impressed. Lots of people in your shoes would loaf around watching TV all day long. You're not like them.”

  “It ain't enough. I'm sick of sitting on my ass not being able to work. If I don't do something more, I'm gonna go crazy.”

  I knelt beside him. “What were you doing outside, Max?”

  “Your nasty chickens,” he muttered. “You said their house was all covered in bird crap. You hadn't been cleaning it as much because of the baby. So I thought I'd...”

  “You cleaned it for me?” I put my hand over his. “But why? You hate chickens with a passion.”

  “And they hate me right back.” He laughed. “I got the dang thing mostly cleaned out – nastiest thing I've ever done. Would rather go into a burning building. Well, anyway, your hose busted. Thought I'd be clever and finish the job with pond water. Sure you can imagine how that went.”

  “You were so bored, you spent the afternoon cleaning chicken crap.”

  He nodded. “That, and... I wanted to help you out, too. You're doing so much for me while I sit around, helpless to do anything for myself. It's just not right.”

  I'd been using all my willpower to keep my pants on around him. Knew if I let him have me again, it would be the dumbest idea ever – because my feelings would grow stronger while he continued planning his exit strategy.

  At best, we'd be friends with benefits because Max was never gonna settle down.

  His pick-up lines, I could resist. But this, doing something nice for me out of the kindness of his heart? Yeah, I was helpless against that kind of come-on.

  “Why don't we both get cleaned up, then I'll order us a pizza? I was going to cook some healthy fish and veggies, but the doctor said I needed to put on more weight.” I squeezed my thigh flab. “I think he's crazy, personally.”

  “Darlin', you'll be gorgeous no matter how fat you get.”

  I laughed. “Thanks, I guess? Doubt you'll be saying the same once I'm nine months and look like a beached whale.”

  “I've never had a thing for pregnant women before.” He gently touched my belly. “But you make it look good somehow.”

  “Are you saying you have a thing for me?”

  “Oh, you know I do.”

  Sexually, sure, we had the most amazing chemistry I'd ever felt with a man. But sex couldn't always be everything. I wanted more than that. I needed a man who wouldn't bail on me. Who'd love me the way I did him.

  It saddened me that Max could probably never be that man. At best, I could enjoy him until he yearned for his freedom again.

  I got my shower, and was glad to rinse all that scummy pond water off of me. When I went to get dressed, I first reached for my comfy sweat pants, then had a change of heart.

  Max kept making remarks about my butt. Well, if he wanted an eye full, I decided I was going to give it to him. I slipped into my silkiest, shortest shorts, knowing full well what would happen if I wore them.

  When I was done, I found the living room lights dimmed and candles lit on the coffee table where we usually ate together. Max parked his chair in front of the TV and was muttering to himself about the lack of shows to watch.

  “Max? What is all this?”

  He dropped the remote and strained to pick it up, even though it would have been easier for me to hand it to him.

  “You've been all stressed out lately, especially with your parents hanging around. Just thought it might help to relax you a little.” He shrugged. “It's not much, but I'll admit I'm not a very sensitive guy. I got no idea how this kind of thing works.”

  “You did good.”

  I kissed his cheek. He flinched.

  “You're making me feel weird, Anna. I don't know if I like it.”

  He was confused, it seemed. So was I.

  “I'm sorry. Go hop in the shower and I'll order the pizza. What do you want on your half?”

  “Anchovies and pineapple.”

  I gaped at him as he rolled away to the bathroom. “Are you trying to make me throw up?”

  “Just kidding.” He grinned. “Knew it would get a rise out of you. You're cute when you're mad, y'know.”

  “If you don't hurry up and tell me what you really want, I'm getting you black olives.”

  He stuck his tongue out. “Then I'm gonna throw up. Pepperoni, sausage, and mushrooms sound just fine for me.”

  He shut the door and got in the shower. It was tough going for him with those broken legs – he had to haul himself into the bathtub and sit down in it to bathe.

  I worried that he might one day hurt himself. I also couldn't stop thinking about how he looked naked in that steamy room, water streaming down his back...

  I ordered the pizza and it came in record time, just as he was getting out of the shower. When he emerged, he wore only boxers. I tried not to drool.

  “Think I'm getting a bit flabby.” He pinched his stomach. “Can't get any real exercise done in this chair. Soon as I'm out, I'll be hitting the gym seven days a week.”

  “You look pretty amazing to me.” Then I realized how that must've sounded and blushed. “Come on; let's chow down.”

  We ate together on the couch while we took turns picking what show to watch. He put on some show about blowing stuff up in the name of scientific discovery. I chose a program on the DIY Network, which, coincidentally, featured a family building their baby an adorable nursery.

  “When the kid comes, where are you gonna put it?”

  “I'd like to have a nursery, but I'm not the most handy person. Guess I'll just stick a crib in the spare bedroom and maybe hang some decorations.”

  He shook his head. “That ain't good enough. You and your baby deserve a nursery just like that one on TV.”

  “I agree, but I don't think it's in the cards.”

  He took a huge bite of pizza and thought while he chewed. After a long while, he swallowed and turned to me.

  “I'll do it. I'll make you a nursery.”

  “You? But... Why?”

  “Because you need one,” he said, and that was that. “Soon as my legs are better, I'll get to work on it. Shouldn't take too long to set up.”

  “I thought you were eager to get home. And your job, aren't they going to get upset with you for taking off so much time?”

  He looked away. “They, uh, got someone to fill in for me temporarily, so it's all good. And yeah, I miss home, but I owe you. You've been kind and patient with me. I gotta pay you back somehow.”

  “Well, thank you. You know, you're a pretty decent guy when you want to be.”

  He snorted. “Yeah. Trouble is, I usually don't wanna be. Being the bad boy is much more fun.”

  “That's precisely what worries me about you.”

  I got up to throw away my plate. Max gave my ass a good slap. When I yel
ped and turned around, he was grinning.

  “Sorry. What did you expect would happen if you dressed like that in front of me?”

  I rubbed my sore flesh. “You just can't help yourself, can you?”

  “No.”

  He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into his lap. This time, I didn't try to stop him. Our lips met in frenzied, needy kisses; our tongues danced as his hands roamed my body. The heat rose rapidly in me. I had to have him now, no more waiting.

  I was unsure how one had sex with broken legs, but that was merely a logistical problem that we'd surely work out in no time.

  Max tugged at my shirt, so I pulled it off, despite being more than a little nervous to show him my protruding belly.

  His eyes widened at my nakedness. To my surprise, his hands went to my stomach first instead of my boobs.

  “It's beautiful.” He kissed the bump. “You're beautiful, Anna. You just look so womanly and... fertile.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “And that's a turn-on to you?”

  “Apparently so.”

  His fingers moved on to my breasts, which he stroked gingerly, as if afraid he might break me. Then he pursed his lips around my nipple and sucked slowly, gently, until I thought I'd lose my mind from so much pleasure.

  “I think you like this.” He teasingly kissed from one breast to another. “I like it, too. I like seeing you squirm when I do this.”

  He flicked my other nipple with his tongue. Oh God, why was I so sensitive there lately? I'd never really liked having my chest played with. But when it came to Max, it all felt so amazing I didn't want him to stop.

  He pulled at my shorts, and they fell off with ease. When he found my silky black underwear on beneath that, he gazed at me with a curious smile.

  “Something tells me you were planning this tonight.” He slid them off, too. “Goodness, look how wet you are. I'm flattered.”

  “I've wanted you again since that first night. I was just... scared.”

  His fingers teased my entrance. I longed to be filled up by something, anything. But when a lone finger entered me, it wasn't enough. I needed bigger. Needed that big, thick cock of his, and I had to have it now.

  “Scared,” he repeated. “I don't understand.”