Men of courage

by Lori Foster

  “What’s funny?” he asked, tracing her lips with his fingertips.

  “Well, before I let you have your way with me, I have one question.”

  “Ask me anything.”

  “You were right. Before. My heart does have its share of footprints on it. The last man I allowed to get this close to me ended up taking me for everything I had. And the theft of my pride and dignity hurt a lot worse than my empty bank account.”

  “Haley, I—”

  She just kept talking. “So, I know you’re not after my family money. And I know you’re not after my worldly possessions, because, after all, I don’t have any.” She let a small smile curve her lips and realized just how freeing humor and laughter could be. How amazingly easy it was. With the right person. “But I do have one thing left, the one thing a man like you might covet.”

  “Haley, I don’t want—”

  “My dog,” she finished.

  Brett opened his mouth, then shut it again as he realized she was teasing him. He hooted with laughter.

  “I think Digger and I are both a bit offended,” she said as his laughter continued unabated. But then she was laughing, too. And he was kissing her.

  And the time for slow and lazy was over.

  “Any other time I’d sweep you off your feet,” he said. “But if I tried that now, we’d pretty much have to make love right here on the kitchen floor. Do you think you can handle a man who has to hop instead of sweep?”

  She kissed him on the tip of his nose and patted his shoulder. “Would it make you feel more manly if I hopped, too?”

  He laughed, then kissed her hard and fast. “God, I 1—” He broke off suddenly and she almost laughed at the comically horrified look on his face. She didn’t know if he was horrified that he’d almost said the L-word, or horrified at what she might think if he did.

  She wasn’t sure. It was way too fast. Way too soon.

  And yet her heart had foolishly leaped. And he’d only gotten as far as the l.

  There would be time for declarations later. Whether it be a day, a month or a year from now. All she wanted, she decided, was the time with him to find out if there was a declaration to be made.

  She linked her arm in his, pretending the moment hadn’t happened, letting him recover without pressing. Or teasing. Though she found she wanted to do both. He made that such an easy element of their relationship.

  Their relationship.

  She should be terrified, thinking in those terms. And yet she’d just faced a close call with death and the destruction of her home, her dream, which had only made her realize just how tentative life could be. All her careful planning and independent strides were great, but something like this couldn’t be planned. And she couldn’t back away because the timing wasn’t perfect. Brett brought her joy. More joy than she’d ever remembered feeling. And, in the midst of tragedy, that made it all the more precious to her.

  So she let the joy in, without making any demands of it. It made her want to dance. Or, in this case, hop. She lifted up one foot and slung her arm around his waist. “Shall we?” she asked, balancing against him. “You know, if you’d gotten crutches like the doctor told you to, you’d—”

  “Prove what a klutz I am? And ruin your impression of me as a larger-than-life rescue hero? No way.”

  They hopped through the living room. “Is that how you think I see you?”

  “You mean, you don’t see me as godlike and all-powerful?”

  They stopped at the base of the stairs. She turned into him, meaning to tease him, taunt him a little, maybe drive him as wild as he was driving her. Instead she found herself cupping his face and speaking earnestly. “I see you as a kind, sexy, fun-loving man, who is dedicated to his job, to his dog, and risks his life to help others.”

  He actually blushed, and she felt her heartstrings tug even harder. “Okay, I guess that’s a little godlike. You’re too good to be true.”

  Then he waggled his eyebrows and made her laugh. “No, just too good.”

  She shrieked when he bent and swung her over his shoulder. “Brett! Put me down, you’ll destroy your ankle. You’ll—ooph.”

  “Sorry,” he said, hopping up the stairs, one hand on the banister, the other across the back of her thighs. “You should conserve your breath.” He bopped up to the first landing one-footed, then up to the next, as though she was nothing more than a backpack. “You’ll be needing it later.”

  When he reached the top, she was too amazed to be upset. “How exactly do you guys train, anyway?” she asked, noting she was the one who was breathless.

  “You worried about my stamina?”

  “No,” she said quite frankly. “I’m worried about mine.”

  He laughed, then tugged her through the open doorway to his bedroom. She’d been sleeping up on the third floor, had passed this room the past two nights, unable to keep from imagining… well, this.

  He popped the door shut behind her. “I hope you don’t mind, but as much as I love animals, I really don’t need an audience.”

  “No?”

  He just gave her a look. “Did you want to share some kinky fantasy?”

  She shook her head, smiling. “Not me. And I’m just as glad to avoid the possibility of a cold nose in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Now Brett laughed. He tugged her to him and fell back on the bed.

  She tried to keep from banging his ankle, but he’d already rolled her beneath him. “Is this part of your stop, drop and roll fireman training?”

  He pulled her down for a hard, fast kiss. “How in the hell did Sean ever let you go?”

  The words were out before she could think bet-ter of it. “Maybe so I could be there for you. When the time was right.”

  He stilled then. “Maybe,” he said finally. He kissed her again, gently this time. “It shouldn’t be the right time. Everything is upside down for you. And… for me, too. I have some decisions to make. About my career, about doing rescue.” He broke off and rolled his eyes. “And I can’t believe I finally got you where I’ve been fantasizing about having you for what seems like eons… and I’m talking about my damn job.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she said, trying like hell not to squirm beneath him. He was pressed intimately… right where she wanted him pressed. Only they were wearing far too many clothes. She almost rolled her eyes herself. Here a man was trying to do the right thing, say all the right things… and she was the one wanting to say to hell with it all and go for it.

  “We can talk about that later,” he said, as if reading her mind. “Right now, I have this powerful need to taste you. All of you.”

  She opened her mouth, then shut it. “Well, then. What are you waiting for?”

  “I have no idea.” He dropped his mouth to hers, then let it drift to her chin, then trailed his tongue along her neck until her collar wouldn’t let him explore any further.

  “In the way,” she managed to say, already a bit breathless.

  “Definitely.”

  A moment later her shirt was gone. She started to peel off her bra, aching now to feel his mouth on her skin.

  “Not so fast.” He pulled her hands away and grinned. “This is Christmas morning and eight birthdays all rolled into one for me. I like to take my time unwrapping my presents.”

  Her body tightened in response to the promise she saw in his eyes. “As long as I get equal unwrapping time when it’s my turn?”

  His eyes went cobalt and she thought she might climax right then and there.

  “I’ll make sure of it,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. Then he turned his attentions back to the lace trim of her bra. After a slow, torturous time spent peeling it back, inch by devastating inch, his mouth finally closed over the aching peak and she arched off the bed, hips grinding against him. “Brett,” she gasped.

  “I’m right here,” he murmured. “Definitely not going anywhere.” He shifted his weight off of her, swallowing her whimper of protest with his mou
th. He toyed with first one nipple, then the other, while his hand moved to the waistband of her pants. He didn’t take them off, merely slid the button free, then tugged the zipper down, so his curious fingers could continue their conquest. She arched again as he slid them first over the silk of her panties. “Wet for me,” he all but groaned.

  “Dying for you,” she corrected, making him grin fiercely.

  “Starving for you.” He tugged her pants and panties away as he slid his body down to continue his leisurely exploration, this time with his tongue.

  Pleasure ripped through her when he toyed, dipped and teased, then crested sharply as he pushed a finger inside her at the same time. She arched almost violently, pressing down on him, wanting more, needing— “Yes!” Her climax rocked her hard and continued as he refused to let up. He tugged her clothes free and all she could think was Hurry, hurry, but dimly, in the pleasure-fogged recesses of her mind, she seemed to recall demanding equal time.

  Struggling, she managed to open her eyes, only to find Brett lifting his head from where he was presently kissing a trail back up over her abdomen. Eyes so warm, so full of desire and… other things far too soon to label. “How did I get so lucky?” It was only when his eyes widened that she realized she’d spoken out loud.

  “Asks the woman who just lost almost everything she owns?”

  “Tangible things,” she said, lulled into such a blissful state nothing, not even harsh reality, could make her raise her walls again. He’d been honest with her, terrifyingly so. And it made her want to do the same. He deserved no less. And she realized with startling clarity that she could tell him anything. He’d slid past her defenses so easily, so quickly. And yet he was no stranger. She knew him. Knew he’d never knowingly do anything to hurt her. She knew where he came from, who he came from. And what she didn’t know, she was dying to discover.

  “You were right,” she said softly. “Life makes no promises on tomorrow. You have to go after what you want today.” And then it was her turn to grin, to marshal the remaining strength in her limp, pleasure-sated limbs, and push him to his back, lean over him and make a promise of her own.

  “Sometimes I say the smartest things,” he said, then groaned long and with deep pleasure as she slowly, inch by devastating inch, peeled his T-shirt off… with her teeth. Her hands slid beneath the soft, worn cotton… over hot, hard skin. He was a fascinating blend of supple muscle and unyielding steel. And he tasted like heaven.

  She shifted over him, making them both gasp as her nipples rubbed across the light swirl of hair on his chest. She straddled him, marveling at her own playfulness, which despite her yearning to break free of her cloistered upbringing, had never come easily to her. But then, she’d never come quite so easily, or thoroughly, as she had under Brett’s clever ministrations. And she was nothing if not a fair person. She only hoped she could come close to equaling—

  He arched up as she settled her body across the now-screamingly taut fit of his gym shorts. And the expression on his face was her own present. One she planned to unwrap every chance she got.

  “Shorts. Definitely need to go,” he growled.

  “Giving orders?”

  He managed to open his eyes, but his hips still pushed up against her, making it almost impossible for her to not give in. She wanted him there every bit as desperately as he wanted to be there. Maybe even more, if that were possible.

  “Never.” He grinned, but it was tight and fierce, as if he was exerting major control. He jerked his chin. “Nightstand. Drawer.”

  She understood and stretched her body across his to reach for a condom, putting her nipples right in nipping range of his tongue. Which he naturally made full use of. Which she naturally let him.

  And that was where she made her strategic mistake. Somehow, seconds later, she was flat on her back. But she couldn’t argue. Hell, she couldn’t speak. She was too busy trying not to swallow her tongue as she watched him shuck his shorts and roll the condom on himself. Talk about Christmas and birthday presents all in one!

  “Next time can I do that?” she asked. She’d never even considered protection as part of foreplay. It was something done in the dark. For that matter, so was lovemaking. Or had been. But now… “I want to touch you.”

  “And I want that, too. Believe me. But one brush of your fingertips right now—”

  He looked so primal, so fierce… and at the same time, just like Brett. Funny, sexy, patient. Her Brett. It was going to take some getting used to. This proprietary feeling he’d roused so swiftly, so strongly inside her.

  And then he was moving over her. She spent a millisecond worrying about his ankle, but then he was settling his weight between her legs, and sliding the warm, hard, glorious length of himself inside her. And she couldn’t think of anything. Anything but him.

  And as he pulled her blissfully up to the edge… then ferociously over again, she realized it wasn’t going to be all that difficult after all. Brett was inside her body but, more important, he’d found a way inside her heart. And she liked his warm, steadying presence there.

  Now she only had to figure out a way to keep him there.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Two weeks. Fourteen mornings spent waking up, finding her nestled next to him and remembering he’d won the lottery. The lottery of love. Brett rolled his eyes, but couldn’t wipe the grin from his face. God, he was a goober in love. But he didn’t care how corny his thoughts were. He looked at her and couldn’t help his feelings. Didn’t want to.

  Brett traced lazy circles around Haley’s navel with his fingertips. She made a soft, snoring noise and shifted in her sleep, but didn’t push his hand away. Which was progress. He’d had her in his life, in his bed, in his arms, for days now. Nights. And though she gave herself to him with devastating openness when they made love; in her sleep, she was still putting up walls. But he was nothing if not patient. She’d had a hell of a lot longer to put up walls than he’d had to tear them down.

  She’d told him everything now, about her fam-ily, about Glenn, the bankruptcy he’d forced her into. It amazed him she’d let him in as much as she had, and he was humbled by the faith she’d put in him, her trust.

  And he planned to take tender, exquisite care of that gift, and her. God knows, she did the same with him.

  It was almost as if she didn’t trust the ease with which their lives had meshed. She was looking at places to move, still haggling with state and federal officials about retrieving what could be salvaged from her home and work studio. He didn’t say anything, didn’t beg her to stay with him. She was already with him. All he could hope was that when the time came and she found her new place… that it would feel empty without him. He knew he’d be lost without her. But he was trying not to push. Okay, push any harder. Because he already had more with her than he’d ever dreamed. They’d come together so swiftly, so completely, but he knew he had to let her find her own way. And if she thought she needed her own space while they found their way together, so be it.

  But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try to influence the deal.

  He replaced his fingertips with his tongue. And she woke up moaning, wet and ready for him. “Christmas every day,” he murmured.

  She pushed his hands away when he peeled the condom from the wrapper, and took over, as she’d done every time since that mind-numbing first time that she—after informing him that while he liked to unwrap his presents, she enjoyed wrapping hers—had fumbled around sliding one over him. It was the worst kind of tease in the world… and the absolute best. Watching her, tongue caught between determined teeth, had been a highlight moment. He’d never had to fight so hard to keep from saying the words. Words he’d still yet to say, but that burned the tip of his tongue on an almost constant basis. Soon. First, he had to tell her something else.

  But it could wait until after this.

  He shifted his weight on top of her, knowing she wasn’t as keen on being the wild one in the morning stream of sunlight that
poured in his bedroom windows and sunroof. Patience, he knew, was the key there, too. At night, in the flickering shadows of candlelight, she was every wicked fantasy he’d ever had.

  Which was really saying something.

  Besides, he enjoyed dissolving her east-coast Brubaker shell. She was comfortable enough with her body, but still retained an overdeveloped sense of modesty. Which charmed him to no end… and nudged his more mischievous side. She nudged him right back. He was definitely in love.

  They both sighed as he pushed inside her. Home. He sensed it, felt it, bone deep, every time. And knew he always would. He drove them there slowly… at least that was his intent. A lazy Saturday morning in bed. But Haley had other ideas.

  And somehow, it was his resolve crumbling, his body being pulled beyond its will, until he was the one growling through his climax and she was the one smiling in delighted, smug pleasure.

  “You’re not the only one who learns fast.”

  He laughed, then noticed two sets of eyes peering over the bed. He motioned to them with his chin. “They’re probably thinking we train well.”

  Haley laughed, then shrieked as both dogs bounded up onto the bed. Brett grabbed her hand and rolled her into his arms before Digger could land on her chest, then kept rolling until they were out of the bed entirely. “Come on, shower with me.”

  The dogs wrestled on the bed… and Brett and Haley wrestled in the shower.

  It wasn’t until they were downstairs in the breakfast nook, bowls of cereal and the weekend paper spread out between them, that he broached the subject that had kept him awake last night, long after she’d curled up next to him and drifted off.

  “I got a call yesterday, while I was at work.”

  She pushed a stray curl from her face and looked over the edge of the paper at him. She was wearing his engine company T-shirt and panties, looking delightfully fresh scrubbed and well loved… and he wanted her all over again.