He’s waiting for me at the end of their sidewalk, the chainsaw and his kit of supplies at his feet looking like some sort of badass cross between a doctor and a lumberjack. When I get close enough, I open my mouth to say the words that’ll put enough distance between us to keep us both in check, but instead he reaches for me in one smooth movement, then crushes me to his body for a kiss as long and steamy as a Florida afternoon.
Chapter 5
Walker
Past
When I wake up in the middle of the night, it’s to the perfume of her pear-scented shampoo filling my nose. It blots out the usual acrid tang of embers and ash and it’s so welcome, I press my nose into her hair and breathe deep. She’s like the springtime after years of the worst, coldest kind of winter. A cold so deep it almost burns.
She’s wrapped up in a little ball in front of me, her legs tucked up into her chest, her hands folded innocently in front of her face. Somehow, I’d wound up wrapped around her with my thighs pressed close against the backs of hers and my chest framing her back. It’s been so long since I’ve had a woman in bed with me, let alone falling asleep with one. I’d forgotten how comforting it can be to simply hold one with all their softness and curves.
If I weren’t such a fucked-up man, I’d put some room between us. Even though she’d come back to my place, she doesn’t know me. We’ve never met before tonight and I don’t have any claim to her. But that doesn’t have any effect on my lizard brain. All it knows is she’s sweet and smells good and feels like heaven in my arms.
Reluctantly, I regain control of myself and start to pull away. A hand on my forearm stops me. “No, don’t,” comes her sleepy voice. “It’s nice.”
“You don’t mind?” I can’t see her face to read her expression, but I don’t pull away.
“I hope this doesn’t sound as weird as I think it does, but I don’t get to do this sort of thing a lot. Like, the affection sort of thing.”
“I guess that’s a good thing to know.”
“Why do you say that?”
“That you won’t have some angry boyfriend chasing me down.”
She puffs out a little laugh. “No, definitely not. I don’t really have time outside of work to find any boyfriends, so you’re safe.”
I relax back into her, tightening my hold around her waist and pressing more closely against her slender body. “I’m the same way. I work a lot, and I’m gone too much for any real kind of relationship. Gotta admit, though, I do miss this sort of thing.”
“That’s surprising. I would have thought you’d have dozens of women falling at your feet. The whole sexy hero thing you’ve got going on must be pretty irresistible to them.”
With a snort, I say, “Sure, until they realize I’m gone for weeks at a time and can be called away at any second. When I am home, I’m asleep or training. Women don’t normally want to stick around when you don’t.”
There’s a moment of silence and then, “I’m sorry. That must be lonely.”
I lift a shoulder, then remember we’re in the dark. “It can be sometimes, but you stay busy enough to forget. What about you? What keeps you busy outside of work?”
“My grandma. She has Alzheimer’s. She has a nurse during the day while I’m at work, but I take care of her pretty much the rest of the time.”
“What about your parents? Siblings? They don’t help out?”
“My parents passed away when I was younger. They didn’t have any other children. My Grandma Rosie and Grandpa Jim raised me. Before he died, I promised him I’d take care of her. It’s the least I could do. They were wonderful grandparents to me.”
“Your grandma is lucky to have you. I’ve worked with patients as a paramedic who have Alzheimer’s. It’s not an easy job.”
“It’s worth it,” Avery says. “I couldn’t let her be taken care of by strangers, all confused without anything familiar around. She’s lived in the same place pretty much her whole life.”
“What would you do if you didn’t have to take care of her?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never really thought about it. Grandpa Jim got sick right after I graduated. If I had to pick something, maybe teaching? I really like kids.”
I smile in the darkness. “Yeah? I could see that. You certainly had more patience last night than I would have.”
“You should come on Friday night all you can eat crab legs. It’s a madhouse.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“What about you? Have you always wanted to be a firefighter?”
My answer sticks in my throat. Clearing it, I say, “Pretty much. My brother was killed in a fire when I was ten. I guess I’ve been trying to save him ever since.”
“Oh my God, Walker. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s been a long time.”
“Still. I know how it feels. It doesn’t ever really go away.”
“No, I guess it doesn’t.”
She turns then, fitting her head underneath my chin. Her free arm goes around my waist and I freeze for a second, unsure. Then, I realize she’s giving me a hug and I relax, accepting her feminine strength. I nuzzle my nose back into her hair and let the scent of her shampoo comfort me as much as her arms around me.
I’m not sure who reaches for who first, or maybe we do it at the same time. But somehow our lips find each other in the dark and tangle. There’s desperation there, on both our parts. A need to fill a mutual void. A craving for similarities. To know we’re not alone with our struggles. She tastes like the vanilla from the coffee, almost too sweet to handle, but I can’t stop going back for more. Her groan fills me up and all I want is to hear her do it again and again.
If we only have tonight, then I hope tonight lasts forever.
Avery sheds her clothes as fast as a fox and then makes quick work of mine, too. “Is this okay?” she asks when she reaches for my sweatpants and I choke out a hoarse, “Yes,” in response.
I wish there were light so I could get a better look at her. I wish there were more time so I could sample and savor every inch of her. But I’m driven by a desperation to be inside her that’s so acute, all I can do is jerk her against my chest and lift one leg over my hip. She reaches between us and positions me, then takes me inside in one smooth motion. Her gasp of pleasure fills the darkness around us as I drive into her obliterating heat.
This isn’t how I’d planned for tonight to go. If I was lucky enough to get her into bed, I planned to make it last, make her come at least twice before we got down to business, but I’ll be lucky if I don’t go off embarrassingly early at this point.
I try to slow down, try to reach between us to get my hands on her so I don’t completely ruin this before we’ve even started, but she pushes my hands away.
“No, don’t. You feel so good.”
“Baby, if I don’t help you out, this is going to be over before it starts.”
She writhes against me and her hands dig into my shoulders. “I don’t need any help. You’re doing just fine.”
At that, I give up trying to rein in any sort of control. My fingers bite into her hips and we come together like crashes of thunder in the middle of a storm. Wild and beautiful and unpredictable. She presses close to me like she’s trying to climb into my skin. I twist us both so she’s on her back. Her arms come around my shoulders, not letting me put any distance between us.
And that’s what does it for me, what sends me over the edge. I don’t know much about her, but in this moment all I know is she needs me. I couldn’t hold back even if I tried. She gasps at the sound of my release and I feel her clench around me a second later, like the physical act of bringing me to the brink is what she needed to get off. If I could come a second time, knowing that would have done it.
We’re quiet as our heartbeats slow and our breathing goes back to normal. I don’t want to get up, break the connection, but the orgasm has rendered me exhausted for the second time. She breathes deeply beneath me and I know she’s close to falling asleep
again, too.
While I’m still conscious, I get up to clean us both up. She murmurs as I wipe away the remnants between her legs and get back into bed. As though we’ve been doing it for years, she settles back with her ass against my hips and once again the scent of her shampoo lulls me back to a dreamless sleep.
In the morning, I reach for her, but she’s gone.
Chapter 6
Avery
My hands go to his biceps to hold on the moment his lips touch mine. The world spins away. I forgot what it’s like to feel wanted by him. So many things happened in the months since I've seen him it’s easy to push away the memories. The only thing I haven’t been able to push away is when he stars in my dreams at night.
Now there's no forgetting the pressure of his lips. There's no washing away his addictive taste. His kiss burns away all my good reason and common sense. If I wasn’t hyper aware of every way he invades my senses, I would have said his kiss is another fevered dream.
When his tongue brushes mine it's like I've been stung all over. Nerves that had gone dormant buzz to life like the yellow jackets swarming around us. I make a needy noise in the back of my throat and it's that sound that brings me crashing back to rationality.
My hands are twin vices on his biceps, and I force myself to relax my grip, although very reluctantly. The heat we're generating between us rivals that of the steamy afternoon air. It's a good thing I won't have any hot water when we get home because a cold shower is exactly what I'll need.
“I've been thinking about doing that since the morning I woke up and you weren't there.” His rough voice is like honey in my ears.
Hot guilt washes over me. “I'm sorry about that. My grandma was having a moment and I had to leave in a hurry. Besides, I thought it would be easier without the awkward goodbyes.”
I make a move to put some space between us, but his hands on my waist tighten, keeping me close. “Would it be creepy of me to say I've thought about you probably more than is healthy while I was gone?”
It's not creepy, but it does hit me right in the heart. I clear my throat. “It's not creepy,” I manage to say. In fact, no one has ever said anything of the kind to me before and if I weren’t so panicked to have him here in the flesh after all this time, I’d think it was kind of sweet. In the past, what few short-lived relationships I’d cultivated had crashed and burned when they realized how much time I had to devote to Grandma Rosie.
“Why don't we—”
In the distance I hear the squeal of a protesting screen door, cutting off my focus from what Walker’s saying. Then the sound of Grandma Rosie’s frail voice penetrates my thoughts. “Avery, is that you?”
Before I can say anything, Walker turns and spots Grandma Rosie on the front porch.
He twists back to me for a moment. “Is that your grandma? The one with Alzheimer’s?”
My hands grow clammy and I wipe them on my thighs. “What—what? Oh, um, yes. Grandma Rosie. But she’s okay. We didn’t have any significant damage and I stocked up before.” I’m rambling. I don’t know if he can hear the straight panic in my voice, but it sounds brittle and desperate to my ears.
“I should give your place a look before I get back to the guys. It’s the least I can do.” He gives me one last kiss on the lips and even though it’s only the barest touch I feel it down to my bones.
“No!” I nearly shout, but he’s already stalking across the street to my house. His long legs make easy work of the distance and I’m simply no match. He’s at the fence before I get halfway. The air simply evaporates from my lungs as he eats up the space between the gate and the front door where Grandma Rosie is waiting patiently, innocently. I don’t know where the baby is, probably still asleep in the bassinet, but she isn’t holding her. With my heart in my throat, I follow behind as quickly as possible.
“Good morning, ma’am, I’m Walker Bryant with the fire department. How are you doing?”
“Has there been a fire?” I hear Grandma Rosie ask.
“No, ma’am. I’m helping with the cleanup after the storm. You remember the storm from last night?”
“Storm?” Grandma Rosie's expression is guileless.
“Yes, ma'am, there was a bad hurricane last night. How are you feeling?”
“Oh, I'm all right. My granddaughter Avery takes good care of me.”
Walker glances back over his shoulder at me as I climb the steps to the porch, out of breath. Both from the kiss and the short sprint across the street.
“I bet she does.”
“Do you want some sweet tea?” I wince at Grandma Rosie's ingrained hospitality. The last thing I want is for Walker to go inside.
“No, Grandma, I’m sure he’s—”
But Walker acts like he doesn’t hear me. “That would be great, ma'am, thank you.”
I nearly wince. “Are you sure you aren’t busy? Don’t you have a ton of people to check on or something?”
Walker merely grins over his shoulder as Grandma Rosie leads him inside the house. “I always have time for the company of beautiful women.”
My heart is at my feet as we move inside. Rosie busies herself making us all glasses of sweet tea. I already know I won't be able to drink any around the knot in my throat. All I can see are the baby things everywhere. A man like Walker must notice everything, so they can't go outside his observation. Once she gives him the glass of tea, Grandma Rosie smiles and goes back to watching her shows on her tablet in the recliner.
His throat works as he drinks deeply. Despite my panic, my eyes are glued to him. “Have you been working all night?” I figure distracting him will be the next best thing. Maybe if I do, he won't notice the bottles on the counter or the breast pump on the kitchen table. My cheeks burn with embarrassment and I hope he thinks it's because of the heat. I don't know if it's my nerves or the lack of air conditioning, but it feels about 100 degrees inside now.
Walker finishes the glass and sets it inside the sink next to a bottle he doesn't seem to pay any mind to. “Well, I'm between contracts again and I came back to visit. When I heard about the storm, I volunteered with the fire department for their emergency response. When they saw how bad it could be, they knew they needed all the help they could get. It's a mess out there.”
“If it's anything like around here, you'll have your work cut out for you.” I hope that didn't sound as inhospitable as it does inside my head.
“You’re not wrong.” With a quick glance at Grandma Rosie, he says, “So would it be okay if I came back the next time I’m free? I’m not sure when that’ll be, but I want to see you again. I wanted to see you again after you left, but I didn’t have any way to contact you. I never did get your number.”
This is either my dreams come true, or my worst nightmare. I’m not certain which.
“Um, I’m not sure—”
Once again, I’m interrupted.
This time, by the thin, high-pitched wail of a hungry baby girl.
Chapter 7
Walker
The first thing that comes to mind is there’s a baby at a neighbor’s. With most of the electricity out, it’s easier to hear ambient noises around even with all of the chainsaws buzzing around. Then I see Avery’s pained ghost-white expression. My brows furrow, because the dots don’t connect.
She’d never mentioned a kid before and I would have noticed if she had. Without a word, Avery turns and disappears into a bedroom and I’m left in a pile of confusion until she returns with a swaddled, squirming bundle in her hands. Throughout the paramedic arm of my training, I’ve been around enough babies to know a newborn or thereabouts when I see one and that baby isn’t more than a month or two old.
Avery doesn’t meet my eyes as she retrieves a container of milk from a cooler. She prepares the bottle in the absolute quiet save for the fussing sounds from the infant. The baby quiets as she teases its mouth with the bottle and begins to eat.
I don’t know what to think at first. My mind goes incredibly blank. After s
ome quick mental calculations, I realize either she was pregnant when we were together or…
No.
There’s no way.
She would have found a way to tell me.
I couldn’t have spent nearly an entire year as a—I nearly choke on my own spit at the thought that follows—father and not known it.
“Is that a baby?” I ask when I can finally get my voice to work again.
Avery’s eyes are still on the gurgling infant and she nods silently.
“Look at me,” I demand, my heartbeat throbbing throughout my entire body. I swear I can almost hear it pounding in my head and ears. When she doesn’t, I say, “Avery.”
Her wide eyes meet mine reluctantly and there’s fear and defiance there in equal measure. “This is Rosalynn Grace,” she says. “My daughter. Gracie.”
“When was she born?” My words come out as harsh and choppy as the ocean in the middle of a winter storm.
“A few months ago.” Her words are so faint I damn near have to read her lips to know what she’s saying.
It doesn’t take a genius to realize a few months plus nine months gestation means the baby was conceived roughly the same time we were together. The sweet tea turns sour in my stomach and the sugar now seems like a terrible idea. I want to sit down, but I’m afraid if I try to move, my locked knees will give out from underneath me, completely betraying the level of shock I’m experiencing.
“Is she mine?” I ask, the words coming out harsh and cold unintentionally. Or maybe the tone is intentional. How could she have kept a secret like this from me for so long? What if something had happened to me and I didn’t make it out of a fire alive and died not knowing I had a child out there in the world.
At my question, Avery’s eyes go back to the now sleeping baby’s face. Mine follow despite how much I try to keep from looking at them, feeling anything for them. The baby must sense some of the unease in the room, because she shifts restlessly, her sleepy eyes cracking open just long enough for me to see how identical they are to my own.
Spark (The Hometown Heroes Series) Page 3
