Finding Nick

by Janis Reams Hudson

  Oh, how she wanted a crowbar so she could pry those balled up emotions out of him.

  Through their talk and her musings, Nick had kept visual tabs on that one fireman, the one by the fire truck. Every so often, the man looked back.

  “Who is that?” she asked.

  “Who is who?

  “Would you stop that? You know exactly who I mean. You’ve been watching that one fireman since we got here like you expect him to burst into flames. Who is he?”

  “I’ve never met him.”

  “Oh, come on. In a town this size?”

  “No, really. I guess he’s the new fire chief they hired a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Hired? I thought all the firefighters here were volunteers.”

  “All but the chief. Somebody got smart about thirty years ago during the oil boom and established several different trust funds with city money. One of the funds was for the fire department. They can pay for a fire chief with experience, thanks to that fund. Everyone else is a volunteer.”

  “Why didn’t they hire you? You’ve certainly got the experience, and there are no high rises here, so no more than one flight of stairs, if that, per fire. You’re more than capable for the job, aren’t you?”

  He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it and shook his head. “Do you mind if we don’t talk about it right now?”

  Shannon winced inwardly. She’d been interviewing him. “Sorry. Bad habit. What can I say? I’m naturally curious, especially about people I like.”

  His grin came quick. “Thanks. I like you, too.”

  “There you have it. We like each other. We’re actually in agreement on something.”

  “Don’t get cocky,” he warned, his eyes filled with sudden laughter. “The night is young.”

  Shannon sighed and watched him resume scanning the crowd and the fire and the new fire chief. Was he warning her with his “the night is young” comment that they weren’t going to agree for long? That he was still prepared to deny her the interview even after he read her manuscript? Or was she making too much of a bit of humor?

  She looked around and tried to step into the everyday with him and forget his cares, her own cares, for while. It was a beautiful night and she was with the one man in all the world she wanted to be with.

  Several people, children and adults, waved at Nick, others called his name and he waved back or nodded.

  “Why are so many adults here?” Shannon asked. “I understand the firemen, but cops? Teachers? Parents?”

  “What can I say? It’s a small town. Not much else to do, plus, most of the adults went to school here. It’s homecoming for them, too. They like to relive their youth.”

  “And this way it keeps the beer drinking to a minimum?”

  “We hope,” he said sardonically.

  “How about you?” She rubbed her arm against his.

  “I’m old enough to drink beer if I want.”

  “Not that.” She pinched his arm. “I mean, do you like to relive your youth?”

  He looked down at her. His nostrils flared. “I’m feeling younger by the minute.”

  An intense look passed between them, and a heat that had nothing to do with the nearby bonfire.

  “Oh, look,” he said loudly, breaking the moment. “It’s the guys. You remember the Three Stooges, don’t you?”

  It was the three boys she’d met the other day. If memory served, and hers was pretty good, they were Tim, Bosco and Ricky. The minute Nick called them the Three Stooges, they went into a poking and slapping and making-funny-noises routine that they had honed to a fine art. It was pretty funny, she had to admit as she laughed.

  “Don’t laugh,” Nick complained. “It only encourages them.”

  “Aw, come on, Nick,” Ricky said. “You know you like us.”

  “I like Ms. Malloy.” Nick slipped an arm around Shannon’s shoulders and pulled her to his side. “I like fast cars and barbecued ribs. You guys, I tolerate. Sometimes. Although I don’t know why.”

  “Because we’re cool, man.” Tim gripped Ricky’s nose between his index and middle knuckles and pretended to twist.

  Ricky crossed his eyes while Bosco made silly, Three Stooges–like noises.

  “Oh, yeah.” Nick nodded his head as if deep in thought. “You three are going to go far in life. With all the attention you give your classes, I wouldn’t be surprised to see one of you end up in the White House. Sweeping the floors.”

  “What the heck, Nick, that’s what you do. At least we’d be doing it in the White House.”

  “What a thing to aspire to. Do you think when I was a kid I used to want to grow up to be a custodian?”

  Shannon saw curiosity come into their eyes. “Well, not really,” Bosco said.

  “What did you want to be?” Ricky asked.

  “If you didn’t want to do it, how’d you end up here?”

  Shannon felt Nick’s muscles tighten where he touched her.

  “If I wanted to tell you my life story,” he said with a cocky grin, “I’d write a book. Then if you wanted to know, you’d have to brush up on your reading skills.”

  “Hey, man, we read just fine.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “Look.” Bosco nudged the other two boys. “There goes sweet Melissa Sweet.”

  Tim put his hand up under his shirt and patted his ribs to mimic his heart jumping out of his chest. Ricky threw his head back and howled.

  The three of them trailed after the girl like puppies on a leash.

  “Come on.” Nick turned Shannon away from the bonfire and the shouting and laughing and cheering kids. “Why don’t we get out of here?”

  “Sounds fine to me.”

  She said nothing as Nick took one last look over his shoulder at the bonfire, the flames still leaping up to touch the night sky.

  Chapter Six

  Away from the light of the fire, it was full dark, broken only by the occasional streetlight or car. Over head, a million stars blanketed the sky. “Look,” Shannon said, tilting her head back. “I’ve never seen so many stars before.”

  “I’m almost used to them by now,” Nick said, his arm still around her shoulders. “No big city lights out here.”

  “It’s so…breathtaking. I’m a writer. I should be able to think of a better word. Awe inspiring. When I look up I feel insignificant and small. Yet, at the same time, I feel…powerful.”

  As he watched Shannon, felt her body move beside him, Nick felt the rest of his blood rush straight for his groin. Where most of it had been since she’d first touched him at the bonfire.

  He supposed he ought to act like the big he-man, indifferent, aloof. The truth was, he felt too damn good to act any way other than what he felt like—an over-sexed teenager. How undignified. Been there. Done that. Thanking his lucky stars he was feeling it again.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  Nick nearly stumbled on the sidewalk, wondering if he’d spoken aloud. “What do you mean?”

  “Just now. You had a grin on your face that would have put the proverbial Cheshire cat to shame.”

  He grinned again. “I did?”

  “Do you always have to answer a question with a question?”

  “Do I?”

  She raised a fist and gave him a growl.

  He laughed again. “I was just thinking that I’d like to race you to the motel, but I’d only humiliate myself when my hip gave out.” And then he drew to a halt.

  Shannon stopped beside him. “Oh, I don’t know. It didn’t seem to slow you down any last night.”

  But he wasn’t looking at her. His arm slipped off her shoulders and hung limply at his side while tension stretched his face taut.

  “Nick? What’s wrong? Is it your hip?”

  He blinked and turned his head, looking more than a little dazed. “What?”

  “Your hip. You were just talking about your hip, then all of a sudden you stopped and got an odd look on your face. I thought maybe you’d
stepped wrong or something and it was hurting.”

  “No.” He blinked and the dazed look faded from his eyes. “Yes. I mean, I didn’t hurt it. I made a joke.”

  “You did, yes.”

  “About my hip.”

  “Okay. And that means…?”

  A huge smile lit his face and he swooped down and gave her a quick but thorough kiss.

  A car zoomed by, going much faster than the twenty-five miles-per-hour speed limit. The radio blared, the occupants yelled and whistled.

  “It means,” he told her, ignoring the teenagers in the car, “that I may just hang on to you. That’s the first time I ever joked about my hip.”

  “No, it’s not,” she said. “I’ve heard you say things about it before.”

  “Maybe, but I wasn’t joking,” he said thoughtfully. “This time I was laughing at myself, and I wasn’t being sarcastic. Never mind.” He slid his arm around her shoulders again and started them back on their way to the Tribute Inn.

  “Not never mind.” She drew him to a stop. “This sounds to me like a major milestone for you. I think we should celebrate.”

  “That’s what I was planning.” He grinned. “That’s why we’re headed for your room.”

  “I don’t even have a bottle of wine for the occasion,” she protested.

  “If you did,” he said, taking her hand this time and tugging her down the sidewalk, “you’d have to drink it all yourself, since I don’t drink.”

  “You don’t drink? I thought all firefighters at least drank beer.”

  “Ah, but I’m not a firefighter any longer, am I.” He wasn’t asking, merely stating fact. “I’m not quite ready to joke about that, so let’s change the subject. What did you think of our little bonfire?”

  “I thought it was fun. We didn’t have a bonfire, or a parade, either, that I can remember.”

  “You’re not really going to write about it, are you?”

  “Hmm, maybe, maybe not.”

  “That’s definitive.”

  “That’s all I know. I’m kicking an idea around.”

  “Maybe I’m better off not knowing,” he said. “Although, you wouldn’t need to interview me for that one, so maybe I should be encouraging you.”

  “Lame, Carlucci. Real lame.”

  “You can’t say that to a guy with a bad hip.”

  “Sorry. No pun intended. But you made a joke about it, so you can’t get any more sympathy out of me on that one. You’ll have to try something else.”

  They crossed the motel parking lot and started up the metal-and-concrete stairs.

  “Sympathy is not what I want from you,” Nick told her.

  “Oh, good.” She smiled and batted her eyes. This time she managed the key just fine and let them into her room. “Because I’ve got something else in mind.”

  “Good.” Nick slipped the chain on the door and turned the knob for the dead bolt. Then he moved toward her, his eyes hot, his lids half lowered. “So do I.”

  Shannon nearly melted on the spot, and he wasn’t even touching her yet. When he did, she would quite likely go up in flames. And she wanted him to touch her. Holding his gaze, she kicked off her shoes and backed toward the bed.

  For every step she took, Nick took one toward her. That was a come-hither look in her eyes if he’d ever seen one, and he sure didn’t want to disappoint her. One step. Two shirt buttons. Another step. Two more buttons. By the time he stood before her and she had no more room to back up, his shirt lay carelessly across the chair before the window; her sweater decorated the far corner of the bed.

  He couldn’t wait. He had to taste her. So he did.

  He knew he’d promised to read her work, but this, he thought, tasting her mouth, feeling her skin, this was more important. It was inevitable. Unstoppable. What he read of her work might interfere, so this would come first.

  Hands tugged and pulled, and clothes dropped to the floor. Shannon took Nick’s hand and pulled him down onto the bed with her. “I’ve been waiting all day for this.”

  Nick shuddered with anticipation. “Your wait is over.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  One kiss, two, and breath turned harsh as lungs demanded more air. Muscles tensed, nerves tingled. Skin turned slick with perspiration. Lips led the way for teeth to nip, hers down his neck, his on the underside of her breasts.

  Then he took one nipple into his mouth and suckled, and Shannon’s back arched off the bed. A cry of sheer pleasure escaped her throat and shot straight to his loins.

  He’d had in mind to go slowly, make it last.

  Next time. Maybe.

  He fumbled for his wallet, but when he pulled out the condom, she took it from him. “Let me,” she said breathlessly.

  Nick nearly groaned. He didn’t know if he could take it, but he gritted his teeth and let her push him over onto his back.

  Shannon moved his hands so they rested beside his head, then tore open the packet and straddled his thighs. Looking down and seeing him totally at her mercy gave her a rush of power that was heady in its intensity. Odd that she would feel it so much. She usually didn’t feel a lack of power. But then, she didn’t usually have a naked man beneath her, hers to do with as she would.

  Slowly, one fraction of an inch at a time, she rolled the condom down onto his erection.

  “You’re about to kill me,” he said through clenched teeth.

  Shannon smiled slowly. “Is that so?”

  He reached for her.

  She stopped with the condom only half on and pushed his hands back down beside the pillow again. She gave them a little pat for good measure.

  Nick’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll be sorry when things come to an end way too soon.”

  She finished with the condom and took him in her hand.

  He sucked in a sharp breath, but kept his hands—they were fists now—beside his head.

  “As far as I’m concerned…” She positioned herself, then slid down onto him, impaling herself on all that glorious, hard length. “There is no such thing as too soon.”

  Leaning forward to clasp his fists in her hands, she began to move.

  He groaned as if in pain. Even his face looked pained, and she imagined hers did, as well. But it wasn’t pain, it was the most exquisite, torturous pleasure, and it demanded more movement, and more.

  Soon his hands were on her hips, gripping her tightly, helping her move faster, harder. She rode him, throwing her head back, pulling his hands up to cup her breasts, squeezing him with her thighs, harder, faster, hotter, until the sun burst inside her mind and the world flew away, and she was whole.

  An instant later, she felt him follow.

  Shannon was the first to speak several long moments later. “Are we still alive?”

  “I’m not.” Nick relished the feel of her bare back beneath his hands. And her thighs still clamped loosely around his hips. And her hair tickling his nose. “I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  “Mmm. That was a good one.” She nuzzled her nose against his neck. “You get points for that.”

  “Oh, yeah? How many points do I have?”

  Against her will, but knowing it couldn’t be helped, Shannon eased herself off him and rolled to lie at his side. “Three zillion twenty-two billion ninety-seven million eight hundred fifty-six thousand one hundred.”

  “Is that all?”

  “And four.”

  “Four? What’s the four for?”

  She stretched and flung one arm and a leg over him, nestling her head into his shoulder. “For looking sexy dressed as a nerd.”

  He pinched her gently on her left hind cheek. “You never saw me dressed like a nerd.”

  “No,” she admitted, her eyes closed and a wide grin on her face. “But I pictured it. Black-rimmed glasses, plastic pocket protector. Maybe with the local garage mechanic’s logo on it. Half a dozen pens and pencils in there. Maybe a snaggle tooth. Got me hot.”

  Nick groaned and laughed. “If that’s all it tak
es to get you hot, and if what we just did is the result of said hotness, I’ll be hunting up my glasses and pocket protector to wear every day.”

  “Naw, don’t bother.” Her energy was bouncing back. She sat up and smirked down at him. “I think the only reason it got me so hot was because I was sitting with you at your aunt’s dinner table when the vision hit me. Probably wouldn’t have the same effect in person. But you could try it and see. Although, I have to admit, this look works for me.” She ran a hand from his shoulder down his torso, his thigh, his leg.

  “Much as I hate to admit it,” he said, “you’re going to have to give me a few more minutes.”

  “Me, too.” She bounced out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom. A minute later he heard the shower running and got up and joined her.

  Shannon looked him up and down and laughed. “A few more minutes, my aunt Fanny.”

  “If you want to read the next chapter, click this tab and the file will open. Don’t forget to—”

  “I’ve got it, I’ve got it.”

  Nick had pursed his lips and refused to comment when she had opened the bedside drawer a few minutes ago and retrieved her notebook computer from beneath the Bible. She had him set up with it now at the small round table across from the door.

  “Believe it or not,” he told her, “I have seen a computer before. They have them in Texas. Now, go away and don’t look over my shoulder while I read.”

  “Okay, okay. Sheesh.” But she backed away because she had been acting like a mother sending her first child off to school for the first time. Alone.

  Then there was that other emotion zipping through her. She tossed his shirt at him. “If you don’t want me hanging around, put that on.”

  He grinned and gave her an arched look from the corner of his eye. “Is that your way of telling me I’m irresistible?”

  She grinned back. “I’m not saying another word. I’m going to finish drying my hair.”

  As she turned her back and walked away, she heard him chuckle.

  She didn’t want to see his face as he read. She wasn’t in the habit of letting anyone read her work until she turned it in to her editor.

  Not that she was in the habit of writing books. This was, in fact, her first. But she never let anyone read one of her articles until she was finished and satisfied with it.