His Firecracker: Sassy Girls Series

by Reynolds, Rory

  I lace my fingers with hers and face off against the pencil dick, practically daring him to give me a reason. If her fingers hadn’t gripped me tightly, I might’ve followed the man out after his parting shot at my beauty.

  My beauty.

  Now that’s a dangerous thought. A stupid thought.

  She turns in my arms, and I wait for her gasp of horror at what she’ll see. I hold my breath as she takes in the damage. Her eyes finally meet mine without pity or fear, and her lips tilt up in a small, embarrassed smile.

  “Thank you.”

  Her quiet words barely penetrate because she’s staring at me with open desire. I open my mouth to ask her if she’s okay, but the words that come out of my mouth are rude and scathing.

  “Did you get your fill of staring at the beast?”

  I instantly hate myself. Her soft smile disappears, and she visibly shuts down, and I’d do just about anything to get that smile back. She ignores my surly attitude and introduces herself as Joselynn. Even though she’s put an invisible wall between us and the spark of attraction I saw has been snuffed out by my harshness, I’m about to do something stupid like kiss the fuck out of her. Then one of the twins cries breaking the moment.

  I’m at Peanut’s crib side within seconds—no her name isn’t really Peanut, but I hated how the girls were called Twin A and Twin B. My sister refused to divulge their names until after they were born… and then she almost died. Hutch couldn’t bring himself to give them their names, saying that when Blake wakes up, she will be the one to give them their names.

  Please, God, let her wake up. I pray for the millionth time.

  Joselynn unswaddles the precious bundle, and Peanut’s face scrunches in anger, letting out a sharp cry at having her warm cocoon disrupted. She speaks softly as she checks the baby’s diaper. She’s dirty. Again. Who knew babies could poop so much? They are like little poop machines. I reach down and pick up my niece.

  “Mr. Foster, I can do that.” She sounds annoyed at my interference, making me bristle. The bitch of a nurse that was in charge last night treated it like it was the shittiest chore around. I made it my mission to do everything for them myself.

  “These girls deserve to be more than just a job,” I snap.

  Joselynn flinches like I slapped her, and a sick pit opens in my stomach. I’ve once again lashed out at her when she’s done nothing to deserve it. I can’t help questioning my reasoning for snapping at her. She’s beautiful, and she didn’t cringe away at seeing my scars. She’s the first woman who has looked at me with appreciation in a very long time and here I am lashing out at her like a surly bastard. I’m about to apologize and explain when Connor, the baby boy sharing the nursery with the twins, starts crying.

  I watch her with the little boy and need coils in my stomach. I have a crazy thought that I wish it were my baby she was holding. We’ve spoken less twenty words to each other, and already I’m building a life with her.

  Ridiculous.

  * * *

  “Stubborn, arrogant… ugh!”

  Joselynn has been mumbling under her breath for the last thirty minutes while she works. I don’t even try to hide my smile, knowing that I’m the reason she’s so flustered.

  “What was that, cupcake?”

  She turns, and the look she gives me is fierce. If she wasn’t a little slip of a thing, I’d maybe be scared. She couldn’t be scary if she tried.

  “Don’t call me that!” she fumes.

  “Whatever you say, firecracker.”

  She rolls her eyes and lets out a long-suffering sigh. She goes back to restocking the little cribs with diapers, baby wipes, pre-made bottles, and all the other crap babies need effectively dismissing me.

  “You had no right!” She’s pissed because I chased off some little fucker who was flirting with her. She’s oblivious of her allure. “Chance is my friend! We eat dinner together every Thursday when our schedules line up.”

  “He wants to fuck you.”

  “What? No. We’re friends…”

  “You might’ve put him in the friend-zone, but he doesn’t seem to understand that.” Joselynn looks lost for a moment as she considers my words.

  “He’s my friend.”

  “Friends don’t look at each other like they are a slice of triple chocolate cake with hot fudge and whipped cream.”

  She throws her hands up in the air. “You’re ridiculous.”

  “No, I’m right.”

  “Ridiculous,” she stubbornly repeats. “You did this on purpose because I said no to having coffee with you, didn’t you?”

  I shrug in response because the truth is, she’s absolutely right. I’m not sure what it is about this woman, but she’s gotten deep under my skin. She’s worked the last two evenings, and after our bumpy introduction, she’s warmed up to me—sort of. She’s still stand-offish and very stubbornly declines all my offers to join her on her breaks. I’ve offered to buy her coffee, dinner, dessert… everything is met with a stringent no. I almost feel bad for Chance, the poor bastard she’s friend-zoned because I’m feeling very much like she’s trying to shove me in that same box. What she doesn’t yet realize is that box will never fit me. One way or another, I’m going to bust out of that box and make her mine.

  “What am I going to do for dinner now?”

  I don’t even try to hide my smirk.

  “Oh no, no freaking way. I’m not having dinner with you! I already told you no.” She’s so frustrated she practically stomps her foot to get her point across.

  “Actually, you said, and I quote, ‘sorry, I already have dinner plans.’ You didn’t tell me no, and now you don’t have plans.” I raise my eyebrow expectantly.

  Joselynn throws her arms up in the air then starts mumbling under her breath again. I’m relatively sure she’s cursing my balls or something equally unpleasant. It’s adorable. If I weren’t worried she might actually try to damage my balls, I’d tell her as much. One thing having a sister taught me is that you never, ever call an angry woman adorable or cute or anything else. It’s like throwing gasoline on a fire—deadly.

  The door to the nursery opens, and Joselynn turns to it with a welcoming smile. Any hint of her agitation is completely gone. My firecracker is the queen of hiding her true emotions. I seem to be the one exception to that rule, which is why I keep pushing her. I love that I get to see the real Joselynn instead of the always smiling, overly friendly version.

  “Hey girl, you ready for a break?” the newcomer asks.

  “Yeah. I’m just heading to the breakroom for some vending machine gourmet.” Joselynn shoots me an indignant look before turning her smiling face back to her coworker.

  “I thought you had a lunch date with Chance?”

  The happy mask slips from Joselynn’s face for just a second before she squares her shoulders and smiles. “It wasn’t a date. We’re just friends,” her tone doesn’t reflect the smile on her face her calm exterior is being overruled by her fiery spirit. “All the babies should be good until I get back. Everyone has a fresh bottom and have eaten. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

  I glance at the twins peacefully sleeping and back to Joselynn. Desire to stand guard over my nieces wars with my desire to spend some time with Joselynn outside of this nursery. Somewhere where she’s not on the clock. Somewhere where she can drop that mask she wears and be free to be herself. Her narrowed gaze makes the decision far easier than it should be.

  “Actually, I was just heading to Al’s since the cafeteria is closed. Why don’t you come with me and get a real meal? Vending machine food is garbage.”

  Oh, if looks could kill I would be six feet under and covered in concrete just to make sure the job was thoroughly done. The other nurse looks between the two of us curiously waiting to see how her friend will respond. When the new nurse gives me a dismissive look, I know what Joselynn’s answer will be… over the last two days, she’s come to my defense several times in little ways. She won’t turn me down wh
ile someone else is looking at me with a mixture of disgust and pity.

  “Fine, but you’re buying me pancakes.”

  I smile at that because I’d buy her the fucking moon if she asked. Pancakes are easy.

  3

  Joselynn

  How the heck did I end up here? Oh, yeah. The frustrating, sexy—lordy is he sexy—jerk of a man sitting across from me is why I’m at Al’s Diner eating the best pancakes ever instead of at Burger Joint with Chance, my usual lunch partner on Thursdays. I take another bite of the fluffy, syrupy sweet goodness and groan.

  Drake shifts in his seat and I’m wondering if this is as awkward for him as it is for me. This is absolutely not a date, but it sort of feels like one. I mean, the man has asked me out half a dozen times in the last two days, and if I’m honest, he’d almost worn me down until he pulled that crap with Chance. I’m not even sure what he said to the guy. I went to grab my lip balm from my locker and came back to Chance canceling our normal lunch non-date. Not to mention that he couldn’t seem to leave the nursery fast enough. Usually, he sticks around and chats. It was apparent by the glares the two men were throwing at each other something happened while I was gone.

  Jerks.

  It’s just another reason why this is most certainly not a date.

  The silence stretches on between us, only broken up by the sound of forks on plates and the chatter of other diners. I usually hate when waiters randomly stop by to ask how things are tasting or if I need anything else—it never fails that I’ve just taken a bite and have to either hurry up and swallow or talk with a full mouth—but I would welcome a distraction from this awkwardness.

  Since Drake doesn’t seem to be in any rush to break the silence, I decide it’s up to me. I’m not a big talker… I don’t have many friends and the ones I do have don’t mind that I’m quiet. They are more than happy to fill any silences with stories of their own lives and problems. Except for Lindsay. She’s the exception to every single rule because she won’t let me hide. Then again, she knows everything about me. Lindsay and her dad are the closest things to family I have.

  “The twins are doing really well…”

  There. The silence is broken, and the babies are the perfect, neutral topic too.

  Drake grunts in acknowledgment.

  O-kay… seems like he is even more awkward at this whole conversating thing than I am. That’s a feat. I take a long sip of my coffee, looking at him as he shovels food into his mouth over the rim of my mug.

  “Can you even taste it?” I tease and immediately feel bad when he narrows a hard look in my direction.

  “It’s a military thing. You learn to eat fast when you get a chance when you’re on a mission.”

  “Sorry… I didn’t—”

  His lips quirk up in a crooked grin—I knew it would be crooked and it’s every bit as charming as I thought it would be. “Don’t be. We’re supposed to be getting to know each other. That’s what first dates are for.”

  “Not a date,” I mumble around a bite of pancake.

  “Totally a date.”

  “Nope.” I shake my head. Insufferable man.

  “Let’s review. I asked you out, and you agreed. I picked you up at work and drove here. We are alone, enjoying a breakfast-for-dinner meal that I am going to pay for and then I’m going to drive you back to the hospital where I plan on kissing your pouty lips before you clock back in.”

  My mind narrows in on the last part of that. Kissing is absolutely not going to happen. Excited butterflies erupt in my stomach, and a little jolt of desire shocks through me at the thought of Drake’s lips pressed to mine. I shake my head, forcing the image away. Nope. No way. I don’t date. I’m single for a reason, and I need to remember that.

  “This is not a date, and there will absolutely be no kissing. Besides, I’m here under duress.”

  “You could have said no. It wouldn’t have been the first time you’ve turned me down,” Drake says, that smirk still firmly planted on his face. The jerk. Stupid, sexy jerk.

  “And then I would have looked like a jerk in front of Sasha!” I take a deep breath, calming myself because I’m losing my calm façade. This man does something to me, and I’m not sure it’s a good thing. I feel out of control.

  “She expected you to say no… she’s probably gossiping right now about how the beast carted you off to dismember you and suck the marrow from your bones.”

  My jaw drops at the insinuation that a person would think something so horrible about another person. Even with my history, I still see the good in people, and from the first moment I saw Drake, I knew he was good. Sure, he’s surly and growly and has the iciest gaze I’ve ever seen, but it’s so obviously used as armor to protect himself from the reactions he gets from people when they see his scars. Anyone who spent just five minutes with him would see the same thing if they just gave him a chance.

  “Don’t look so offended, firecracker. If you hang around with me enough, you’ll get used to the reactions.”

  And that just pisses me right off. “I damn well won’t. I’ll—I’ll…” I stumble over my words because what I want to say is that I’ll smack anyone who dares look at him like that, but the idea curdles in my stomach because after what I’ve survived, I abhor violence.

  “You’ll what?” he pushes me to finish my sentence.

  “I’ll give them a stern talking to.”

  Jesus, Joselynn, that was lame. When Drake throws his head back and laughs a full-on belly laugh, I can’t help but be pleased that I gave the lamest answer to what kind of retribution I would dish out on his behalf. I find my own smile spreading over my face in response. His laugh is the best thing I’ve ever heard.

  “A stern talking to…” he says still chuckling. “And what would this talking to include.”

  “I’d tell them to get over themselves because they are uglier than you could ever be.” My eyes widen, and I cover my big fat mouth with my hand as I gasp. I can’t believe I just said that. I just called the sexiest man I’ve ever seen ugly. Oh, my God. “I didn’t mean… I meant…” I start to explain, but his calloused hand pulls my hand away from where it’s ineffectively stopping me from putting my foot in my mouth. I expect him to drop my hand, but instead, he laces his fingers through mine, and I might whimper a little because it feels so good to have even that simple touch.

  Drake’s still smiling, and the look in his eyes when I meet his gaze from across the table is softer than I’ve ever seen it. “It’s okay, firecracker. I know what I look like.”

  I shake my head because he’s so wrong. “You’re not ugly, Drake. I mean, look at you! You’ve got this ruggedly strong jaw, and I mean sure, your nose is slightly crooked, but it’s still perfect. And your eyes are so, so blue. And don’t even get me started on your so kissable lips…”

  Foot. In. Mouth.

  Maybe I didn’t just call his lips kissable. I mean, I know I thought it, but surely my brain knew better than to say it out loud. Right? The spark in his eyes of what I can only describe as desire tells me that I most certainly did say that his lips are kissable.

  Let the ground open up and swallow me now.

  “Kissable, huh?”

  “I’m just saying, you’re not ugly. Don’t go making more of it than that.”

  That utterly kissable mouth of his continues to grin and I’m torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to give him a stern talking to like I threatened to do to any would-be Drake haters.

  “You want to kiiiisss me,” he sing-songs.

  I thump my head own on the now empty table; the waitress having cleared our empty plates while we were talking. “Do not,” I mumble.

  “It’s okay. I understand,” Drake says teasingly. “I just learned I have kissable lips. Impossible to resist.”

  “Oh my God, you’re impossible!”

  He really is, but I can’t help smiling in amusement at his cockiness. I like this Drake. The one that’s not glaring and growling at anyone who looks his
way. He’s open and smiling and teasing. I have a sneaking suspicion that seeing this side of him is a rarity. If he were my boyfriend, I would make sure he had all the excuses to laugh and smile in the world. It would be my purpose in life to make this man laugh.

  Boyfriend? Pump the brakes, what the heck am I thinking? I cannot keep thinking stuff like that, especially not with a man like Drake. A self-possessed man with a dominant, almost cocksure personality is the exact opposite of what I need. I need a nice, sweet guy. Not a muscled, hulk of a man with icy blue eyes and kissable lips.

  The twins’ mother will wake up, and then Drake will disappear just like all the visitors to the nursery. The nursery is just a holding place until real-life resumes. I just need to keep my distance until then. He said I’ve friend-zoned Chance, well I’m not going to friend-zone Drake, he’ll go strictly in the ‘professional acquaintance’ box.

  Drake seems to sense that something has changed in my mood because he quickly pays the check and leads the way back to his truck. The ride to the hospital is done in silence. I’m confused by how powerfully Drake affects me. In just two short days he’s managed to crack what I once thought were impenetrable walls. Walls that have kept me safe for six years.

  I know what Lindsay would say. She’d say, ‘go for it!’ super enthusiastically. She’s been trying to set me up for years. So far, I’ve managed to talk my way out of dozens of unwanted blind date set-ups, meet so-and-so’s brother-cousin-best friend-barber—yes, really, barber—and double date offers, you know in case the reason I don’t want to date is that I’m shy. This is why she absolutely cannot find out about Drake. Especially, not how I may or may not feel about him.

  Thank goodness the drive is a short one because the tension between the two of us is palpable. I wish I could say it was an uncomfortable tension, but it would be a lie. The tension is sexually charged and makes me twitchy. I have to fight the urge to squirm in my seat. My mask of indifference that I present to every other man is completely shattered around Drake.