by Joya Ryan
“Do you usually sneak up on people?” I asked, realizing that two drinks seemed to be the right amount for my courage to show up. The man had a dark blue Golden Fire T-shirt on, paired with jeans and a whole lot of muscle.
“Do you usually talk to yourself?”
I glanced at my empty cup. Great, just great. Captain America thought me a crazy person. It had been too long of a day to feel any more embarrassed, though. I’d promised Harper and myself, that tonight, I’d attempt to have a good time.
“Yes, sometimes I do. When I can’t find suitable company to occupy me otherwise.”
He raised a brow and chuckled. Man, he was built. I could see the rivets of his six—no—eight-pack through his thin tee. An intricate tattoo peeked out from his right sleeve and took up his entire bicep, all the way to the crease of his elbow.
“Suitable company, huh?” he said, reaching behind him and grabbing a bottle of water off one of the tables. He untwisted it and poured some into my plastic cup. “What qualifies as suitable in your mind?”
“For starters,” I paused, because he drank down some water from the bottle he’d just split with me, and watching his mouth and throat work made me fantasize momentarily about being that bottle.
Jesus! What had Jack done to me and my brain? Because I had one thing on my mind, and it involved mouths and skin and so many other parts.
“Um, someone with manners is always a plus,” I said quickly.
“Ah, then we’ll be great friends. Look,” he tilted his chin at my cup, “I got you a drink. Pretty gentlemanly.”
“Depends on your motives behind it.”
“What makes you think I have motives?”
I shrugged and took a sip. “You never know.”
“Ah, yes, the water motives.” He glanced at my cup and leaned in to lower his voice. “It’s all part of my plan. Ply you with all the water you can drink, and get you hydrated enough to admit your darkest secrets. Then, and only then, will I bring in the ice cubes and go for the fantasies.”
“That’s some plan.” Here I was trying to forget last weekend, or at least keep my mind off of it, and this guy with disarming charm and an easy smile that seemed so genuine and a little dangerous, made my body aware that it had undergone a switch recently. One that made my body hot and now had me thinking of ice cubes.
“Are you thinking about which fantasy to tell me now? Because I’m all ears,” he said, pouring a bit more water into my cup.
He looked at me for a long moment. He was easily over six foot, about Jack’s height. Maybe a bit taller. He towered over me with muscle and yummy smelling cologne and a naughty expression paired with a lazy smile. He was charming. He knew it. I knew it. But tonight wasn’t the night, and I wasn’t that girl.
“So, you’re on duty?” I asked. Probably one of the reasons I felt okay around this guy. He had to be somewhat responsible. There was also a sexy swagger that must come department issued. Because running into fire required adrenaline and danger. But in the spirit of testing out this “new Lana,” I went with casual conversation.
“Yes, I am on call.”
I nodded and looked around. Everyone was having a good time. The women were all beautiful, like Harper. My best friend was actually beyond beautiful. She had fiery hair with creamy skin and big gray eyes. I had borrowed a pair of her heels, and a skirt. But she was so much taller, with ungodly long legs, that her “mini skirt” hit just above my knees. Still, all I felt like was the same plain person, only hoisted up another few inches.
I was an idiot to think a few drinks and hours would change the outcome of this past week.
“What am I doing here?” I mumbled.
“Uh-oh, talking to yourself again? I’m standing right here? Shit, I must be losing my edge. Is it the stubble? I’m told some women don’t like it,” the firefighter teased.
I couldn’t help but smile a little. “The stubble is good.”
“Hey,” Harper came over and pulled me close, not caring about the firefighter next to me. “So, who’s your target?”
“Target?” I asked.
“Yeah, the guy you’re going to go for?” After agreeing to come to this party, Harper decided that I should try to “check out my options.” Though I still thought of Jack, it was difficult to convince myself that I would see him again.
“I um…” I glanced at the firefighter, and he just looked at me with a raised brow, curious to hear my answer himself. “I wasn’t going to go for anyone.”
“Yeah, that’s smart,” the firefighter said. “You never know what motives they may have. Like water motives.”
Harper turned and looked at him. “What are you talking about, Callum?”
“Just having a conversation with your friend here about suitable company, that’s all.”
“Uh-huh.”
Harper knew more firemen then I’d thought. And Callum didn’t seem to be her favorite. Which was crazy to me because, between the dimples, navy blues, and easygoing attitude, I was having a hard time not looking at him.
“Callum?” I asked him, verifying his name.
“I like the way you say that.”
Harper rolled her eyes, ignoring Cal’s obvious flirtation with me. Which had me buzzing and a little giddy. “So, who’s it going to be?”
“Ah, hello,” Callum said.
“She can’t handle you, Cal,” Harper whispered to him.
“Excuse me?” I stepped away to look at both of them. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Harper reached out and took my hand. “Nothing bad. Just that you’re kind of shy and recently breaking out of your shell. Which is great, and I’m so happy you came with me tonight, but Cal is—”
“Standing right here,” he interrupted.
“Don’t you have a cat to save from a tree or something?” Harper said.
“I’ve got my sights set on a kitten right now, actually.” He winked at me. “Besides, you’re the one, Harper, who has two of my buddies head over ass for you, and it’s cutting into bro time with their bitching and whining. I don’t think you’re one to dish on who can handle what.” He looked at me, and holy crap, what had I missed? Apparently, there was more going on with this secret crush of Harper’s than I’d thought. A crush that involved two firemen?
With his ocean eyes piercing mine, Cal said, “Don’t support and discredit your friend here. She may be a bit shy, but she’s got claws. I can tell.” Though he spoke to Harper, he kept his gaze on mine.
Now I wasn’t sure if both of them were mildly insulting me, or did Cal just stand up for me? Either way, I was not going to wallow or pout, and I certainly wasn’t going to have my best friend think me weak and shy. I had made a promise to move on, at least in some areas of my life.
“I do have claws, damn it.”
“That a girl,” Cal winked.
I was tired of being walked over. Dismissed. Losing at this game of life.
“Time for the races! Find a partner,” a guy called out.
Most of the men in the area “whooped” and attached themselves to a female. Harper’s name was being called out from across the table area by, what I assumed was, one of her admirers.
“I didn’t mean anything bad. I love you, and I want you to keep this strength you’ve found and be happy.”
“I know,” I said, and I did. But I didn’t want to give into this feeling of unease any longer. It could be consuming if I let it be.
“What do you say?” Cal asked. “Want to be my partner?”
Though I didn’t know what “the races” consisted of, how bad could it be? I was trying to branch out, after all. I was in a safe place. And there was something about Cal, a recklessness, yet a responsibility in him that was intriguing. I thought of Jack. Thought of the game we played and how honesty could be helpful. Yet another game it was looking like I lost.
Though it may have been a one night encounter, he’d taught me something: honesty could be a valuable thing.
“F
irst, I’m going to ask you a question, and you say the first thing on your mind.”
“Okay,” Cal agreed.
“What are you thinking about right now?”
He grinned. “My stubble against your thighs.”
My eyes shot wide. I didn’t know what to say to his admission. It spurred some interesting thoughts. Like, what it would feel like, his strong jaw trailing up my thighs, the tickle of that light brown stubble scratching as he got closer to my—
He grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the open field at the back of the park. Men were lining up, getting ready to race, and their female counterparts were standing in front of them.
“Just stand like that,” he said, ushering me to face him. He was only two inches away, and staring at me.
“What kind of race is this?”
“The firefighting kind.”
“Go!” a yell rang out.
With that, Cal bent and hoisted me up, tossing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I screamed, then laughed, as he ran down the open meadow to God knows where, while he carried me. Thankfully, his strong forearm was clamping my skirt down, so I wasn’t flashing everyone. I bounced around and held on tightly to his belt, trying not to overstep and actually touch his ass, his seemingly perfect ass.
I realized the side of his face was, in fact, against my outer thigh. Not the picture I’d originally thought of, but it made sense now.
“Switch!” the voice rang out.
At the command, Cal spun me around, like I weighed nothing, and held me like he would a damsel in distress. With one arm under my knees, the other was tight around my back. He carried me, my shins swinging, as he bounded toward the finish line.
My arms wrapped around the back of his neck, and I clung to him. His nose tickled my ear, and a shot of warmth raced through me.
I laughed and held on tight. The finish line was in sight. So close…
“Winner!” the voice rang out.
I looked up at Cal, and he smiled down at me, breathing hard.
“Did we win?”
He nodded. “Fuck, yeah, we did.”
There were groans and cheers and people talking. Everyone started heading back toward the garage, delivering a few slaps to Cal’s back as they went. But Cal stood there, hanging on to me.
Tears lined my eyes, and I hated that my emotions were getting the better of me.
“Ah, no, did I hurt you?” his voice was so soft, so concerned. I shook my head.
“No, it’s not that.” A small laughed escaped, and I looked at him. “We won.”
He nodded. “Usually, that makes people happy.”
“It does.”
“Then why do you look so sad?”
I shook my head and met his eyes. “Because it’s been a long time. Do you ever just really need a win?”
An intense blue heat radiated from his gaze and his brow furrowed. Not in pity, but like he understood. “Yeah.”
I glanced at the falling night sky. The last seven days had been a roller-coaster that left me feeling like I was in a free-fall, with no idea where I stood with anyone or what my true value was. It was a battle against every insecurity, every fear, and every nightmare. Everything good I wanted to cling to seemed to be disappearing. My job, my father, Jack.
It was a meaningless race, but Cal had hung on to me, ran with me, and we’d won.
He seemed to understand that, deep down, I just needed a moment of victory over something, because never coming out on top could start to weigh on a person. But in that moment, I was weightless, because Cal was still holding me. Not just me, but all my baggage, and for a brief moment in time, I let him.
The crickets’ song was stronger now that everyone was out of earshot. Cal and I were left in the open field beneath the stars of Colorado.
“What’s your name?” he whispered. His face getting closer.
“Lana. We’ve had a whole conversation and race, and you’re just now asking?”
He nodded, a serious expression lacing his face.
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to know first.”
“First?”
He didn’t answer, instead he snared my lips and pulled me closer into his body.
My eyes shot wide with surprise. My instinct was instantly at war with itself. Push him away or pull him close?
He was big and warm, and I felt like nothing could touch me. While his hold was tight, his kiss was soft. Gently tracing my lower lip with his tongue, making me open for more. The decision was reached: I pulled him close and gave in.
Delving his tongue deep, he slowly worked my mouth with his. Taking every ounce of this moment, every second, to his advantage. As if searing every move and taste to memory. My entire body hummed with need. With confusion. With lust.
I was wrapped up in strength, yet desperate to find my own.
He hissed, then smiled against my mouth.
“I told you so…” He bit my lower lip. “You have claws—you should bare them more often.”
I relaxed my grip, realizing my nails were digging into the base of his neck, beneath his shirt.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, running my fingertips over the welts I’d left. “I didn’t realize.”
“Don’t be sorry about being passionate. It’s a good thing.”
There was that word again: passionate. It was showing up more often, and making me forget the bad and want more of the good.
I’d never considered myself a passionate person, but his words hit me, just like Jack’s and Harper’s had. Wanting someone, wanting sex, wanting more, was a good thing? For so long, it had been associated with terror. But in the last week, my world had tipped on its axis.
I was nowhere near the strong woman I wanted to be, with healthy experiences, but maybe I was getting closer. Maybe I could try.
Cal leaned in once more. Just as his lips touched mine, the firehouse alarm went off, and Cal’s cellphone beeped. With a mumbled curse, he set me down and cupped my face.
“That’s my call.”
I nodded.
He looked like he would say more. But he just smiled and went with, “Good to meet you.”
Good to meet you? The only surprise was that he didn’t high five me before running off, like he hadn’t just kissed me like crazy.
Standing in the middle of the field with sirens going off up and down the street, I watched Cal run away.
~
“What was that?” Harper asked, clasping my arm and walking across the street back to our little yellow house.
“I was just going to ask you the same thing. Why haven’t you told me about all the friends you made at the firehouse?” I glanced over my shoulder at the glowing station. The trucks were gone, and on them, Golden’s crew, including Cal.
Harper shrugged, and our heels clicked as we made it to the sidewalk and up the steps to our front porch.
“You had school, then worked in Denver for your dad.”
“Not anymore,” I said.
“Yeah, but you’ve been busy.”
“Not too busy for you.” I looked at my best friend. The normally brassy, ball busting redhead seemed to be carrying the weight of several things, and I’d had no idea. “I’m sorry if I’ve been wrapped up in my own crap and been a terrible friend.”
“You’re not,” she said, and fished her keys out, unlocking the door. “You’re a great friend, and I just want you to be happy. You’ve come a long way already. Last weekend, when I picked you up, you were practically buzzing with a permanent smile. Then, you confronted your dad for the first time, and quit the shitty situation and job he put you in. I want you to keep whatever this newfound awesomeness is.”
We walked through the door, the same feeling I’d felt thousands of times crashing down.
Weakness. I hadn’t told her that Jack not calling bummed me out more than I let on. Hadn’t told her that tonight I felt like an outsider that didn’t fit in. That was, until Cal started chatting me up, only
to kiss me, and then rush off. Yeah, he had a fire to get to. But it was the few seconds before that.
Too bad that passion, while it was a new feeling I was experiencing, tended to linger.
It was laughable how easily my mood could change, my heart could break, with a single conversation with my father or a glare from my step-mother. My confusion could skyrocket at a single encounter with a firefighter or my need to be touched, to be consumed, could ignite with one kiss from a dark-eyed man built of raw intensity and power.
“I’m working on it,” I said. “I quit my job, and I meant it when I said I was done shying away from life. You’re right, I need experiences. Good ones.” I just didn’t know exactly how to do that, or where to acquire the tools to tackle that kind of undertaking.
Harper nodded, tossed her keys on the side table, and kicked her heels off. “And I want to help with that. I just don’t think Cal is that guy.”
I frowned. “I’m not looking for that guy.” Though, after last week and up until this morning, I thought Jack was the only guy that made me feel those kind of emotions. Of course, Cal caught me off guard in a surprising way. Not bad. He wasn’t intense like Jack, definitely not bad. “I wasn’t aware you even knew Cal or his friends. Were you two together or something?”
“Cal and I? God, no. He gives me crap because…” Harper finished her sentence with a shaking of her head rather than words.
“What’s going on, Harper? You’re always talking about helping me. But I want to know what’s happening with you. I care, you know.”
She nodded. “I know. I’ve gotten myself into a small predicament that I don’t know how to solve.” She waved her hand, and the strain of conversation away. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle, and I don’t want to talk about that anyway. I want to talk about you.”
I tried to protest, but she just continued. “Look, the way I see it, whatever gave you that smile and strength last week is something worth hanging on to.”
“You said it yourself, I don’t have Jack’s number.” That didn’t meant I didn’t crave his heat. Stupid, considering I’d just met the man and was drawn to him.
“He brought out something in you.”
“I need to find myself, by myself.”
