Dallas Fire & Rescue: Flashpoint (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Cowboys on the Edge Book 4) Page 2

  Troy might be too much like Mike, but he was different in one very important way—he wasn’t dead. He was living, breathing, hot to the touch, and a damn good kisser.

  She was far enough from her life in San Angelo to indulge her curiosity—to see whether the parts of her body she’d thought impervious to flame could be reignited. From Troy’s smoldering look, she was pretty sure he was just the guy to give her what she needed. A one-night stand. Something light and uncomplicated, because the last thing he’d want was complicated—not with his looks and his youth.

  A thought which gave her a pang of regret. Although likely close to her in age, he could have his pick of young badge bunnies eager to hook up with a handsome fireman. Why was he even looking at her? Couldn’t he see the fine lines beside her eyes and mouth? The depth of the shadows beneath her eyes? But why was she worried? If he didn’t pursue, then she’d only be disappointed for maybe a day. Then she’d shrug it off and remember her vow.

  Never a firefighter. Never again.

  Again, she looked toward Cade and gave him a blinding smile. “So, who’s gonna stick around to help me load my things back into my van?”

  Although he returned her smile, Cade gave Troy a hard stare before cupping her elbow and leading her away. And although she was tempted, she didn’t dare look back. Cade had served on the same crew with Mike. He still stopped by their house every couple of weeks to see whether she needed anything. Two years had passed, and she hadn’t mowed her own lawn once. Hadn’t needed to hire anyone to clean her rain gutters or chimney. And he wasn’t the only one from the firehouse to check in. She’d be part of the firehouse “family” all her life. If that was what she wanted.

  Lately, she wasn’t so sure she could do that. Too many memories haunted her. And every time one of Mike’s friends showed up on her doorstep, she was reminded of her sorrow by the lingering shadows in their eyes. Wouldn’t just ripping off that old Band-aid and starting fresh somewhere else be better?

  She was a teacher. She could find work anywhere. So, why hadn’t she tried?

  A breeze lifted her hair, reminding her she needed to pack up and go. Turning her face toward the sun, she closed her eyes for a moment. She knew why she hadn’t tried to make a new start. She couldn’t bear going through Mike’s things in preparation for a move. Just opening his closet to clean it caused her pain. How could she empty it? Discard his things like they weren’t treasures. Like they didn’t hold his scent. Or bring back a memory she wanted to savor.

  Each step they took widened the distance between her and Troy. Something she ought to be thankful for. Distance would mute the desire that had risen so fast and sharp the sensation had taken her breath.

  Back at her table, she began to stack cups and pack away napkins and uneaten oatmeal cookies. For several minutes, she worked, ignoring her guys who were gathering the clothing and equipment they’d brought. She kept her gaze on her hands straightening her table until everything was packed, and then she saw movement from the side of her eyes. A tall, broad frame closing in, walking with a familiar swagger.

  When Troy stood beside her, she glanced to her side, but not at his face. “I need help breaking down the table.” A stupid thing to say, but by mentioning her need, she was admitting she wanted his help, his presence. Finally, she met his gaze.

  His smile was small and tight, and he motioned her back as he set the table on its side and folded its legs inward. “Show me to your car, sweetheart.”

  “Name’s Diana.”

  His lips twitched. “I know. I asked.”

  She smiled back, a flush of heat building in her cheeks. “Follow me.”

  Chapter Two

  TROY WAS AWARE of the tension all around him as he followed Diana out of the high school stadium and into the parking lot. As he walked, the reason why the guys from her firehouse were so protective finally dawned on him.

  No, she wasn’t dating some firefighter. That fact he’d already discerned from her behavior around them and him.

  She was a firefighter’s widow.

  He’d seen it a couple of times in other firehouses where he’d worked. Firefighters took care of the families of the fallen. A bond of responsibility was created that could never be broken. The widows were enshrined, protected, watched over.

  Which explained everything about why Cade had been such a hard ass. And now made his own quest to get her into his bed feel wrong, although his body didn’t seem to care one damn bit. He was hard and horny, but not so far gone he couldn’t back away.

  Now, her behavior intrigued him even more. When they’d first met, she’d told him in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t interested.

  But her attitude wasn’t just about him. She wasn’t interested in firefighters in general. A natural, defensive move, really. And doomed to failure. The same things that had attracted women in the first place to men who wore the uniform still attracted. Widows often remarried other firefighters.

  Not that he thought she was that interested, but despite her best efforts to repel him, he’d persevered, and maybe she’d grown used to the idea of his pursuit. Another worry occurred.

  Was he the first man since her husband’s passing that she’d been interested in?

  “My van’s here,” she said, drawing up beside a very small Mazda minivan. She opened the back door.

  Hoisting it up, he slid the table over the folded back seats. When he closed the gate, he stood awkwardly for a minute, his hands empty, thinking he ought to make some excuse to leave. But she looked just as awkward, fiddling with her hair while a blush filled her cheeks.

  Troy hadn’t felt this unsure since high school. Where the hell had his confidence gone? He blew out a breath, drew another deep one into his lungs, then went with his first impulse. “Are you staying for the party tonight?” He glanced at his watch. “Actually, it starts in just a couple of hours.”

  “I hadn’t planned on it,” she said, biting her lower lip.

  “It’s casual. You can come just as you are. The gathering will be at the firehouse.”

  Her gaze rose and locked on his face. “You’ll be there?”

  He swallowed and nodded.

  Again, she bit her lip. “I did bring clothes. In case I changed my mind…”

  “Need someplace to change?” He hadn’t meant to blurt that quite so quickly. Smooth move, asshole. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  “Yes, I do, actually. Any suggestions?” A tiny smile darted across her lips.

  Her breathless response froze him in place. “My home isn’t far. And it’s not a disaster. Promise, I’ll make you coffee and give you privacy. I’m really not a perv. I can provide references.”

  She smiled as he continued to babble. “I believe you. And enough people have noted who I’m talking to that if I did turn up missing, you’d be in deep shit.”

  True enough. He grinned and looked at his feet. “Well, then I guess, this time you can follow me.” He pointed toward his big red Dodge Ram truck sitting by itself at the end of the row. “That’s me. It’s new. I didn’t want any dings on the door.”

  She laughed and fiddled with her hair again. “Okay. I’ll follow you.”

  Walking the length of the parking lot was nearly painful he was so hard. And no way could she have missed it. He was still wearing his firehouse sweats and his shaft had risen inside his pant leg. Calling himself all kinds of stupid, he climbed into his truck and checked his rear window. She was pulling out, heading down the row toward him. At least, he hadn’t scared her off.

  He drove at a sedate pace, through traffic lights and into his subdivision. When he’d moved to Caldera, he’d bought a single-story ranch house rather than renting this time around. He’d planned when he’d accepted the job to set down roots, maybe find a nice girl to start a family with—once he was ready to settle down.

  Stopping in the driveway, he turned off his engine and got out of his car, then waited as she did the same after grabbing a small travel bag from her b
ack seat. As he led the way to his front door, he glanced around, wondering if she could see how much work he’d put into the yard. When he’d moved in, the grass was dead, and no plantings had even been placed next to the house to soften the rather boxy exterior to the house. But he’d laid sod and nursed it to life. He’d planted xeriscape shrubs that required minimal watering, hardy flowering bushes, and a few annuals. Next year, he planned to till ground at the side of the house and try his hand at raising a vegetable garden.

  Unlocking the door, he hoped she liked the interior. He’d repainted and replaced carpets. The appliances were dated, but his furniture was new and comfortable. He wasn’t very good at decorating and had yet to buy anything to hang on the walls, but the place was clean.

  She stood in the middle of the living room, her gaze roaming the sectional sofa and widescreen TV. She walked to the sliding door that led into the back yard and pushed aside the curtain. A smile curved her mouth. “You have a pool!”

  “It’s not very large.” And the thing just about drained his wallet trying to keep the water clear and fresh-smelling.

  “But it has to be wonderful with this heat.”

  “The season is long. Six months. Or at least that what’s the realtor promised when I bought this place.” He almost invited her to swim but refrained. Probably she wouldn’t have a suit in her small bag, and he didn’t want her to think he aimed for her to go skinny-dipping right off the bat. He cleared his throat. “I promised coffee.”

  “I would love a cup. If it’s not too much bother.”

  “Have a seat,” he said, waving a hand toward the sectional, and then moved toward the kitchen which was open to the living area, with just a counter dividing the space. Glad to have something to keep him occupied instead of staring at Diana, he quickly heated water and poured it into a French press. “Do you like cream or sugar?”

  She shook her head. “Black’s fine.”

  He poured two cups of strong, black coffee and joined her on the sofa.

  For a few moments, they both sat in silence, sipping their coffee.

  Diana looked his way and gave him a one-sided smile. “Do you know how close you came to causing a riot today?”

  He shrugged and grinned. “I’m a little slow, but I did get the idea your firehouse is very protective,” he murmured.

  “They are. They’re all great guys.” Her gaze cut away, and she took another sip from her cup. “My husband was firefighter. Since I lost him, they’ve looked out for me.”

  She spoke so carefully, he knew it wasn’t easy for her talk about her late husband. His chest tightened. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  “I’m not telling you this because I want sympathy, or because I want you to behave,” she said, arching a brow. “I’m just letting you know. I lost him twenty-two months ago, and I haven’t dated. Letting you bring me here is as close to a date as I’ve had since he died.”

  Because she’d been so open, he decided she deserved his honesty as well. “I figured it out, the fact you’re a widow, as we were leaving. The thought did cross my mind that I had no business going after you, and that your friends were right to be upset. I didn’t invite you here out of kindness.”

  Her gaze didn’t falter. Her cheeks pinkened and one brow rose. “Then why did you ask me?”

  Her blush just about did him in. He shook his head. “I’ve been figuring out the reason myself most of the day. I thought you were cute when we met, but then you challenged me. After that, I couldn’t get you out of my mind.” He drew up a leg so he faced her. “And I couldn’t let you get away without trying.”

  “Trying what?”

  “To get you here.” His gaze narrowed on the pulse beating in her neck. “To see if you’re as interested as I am.”

  “I see,” she said softly, her chest rising and falling a little faster. “We have a party to attend. I’m sure folks saw us leave together.”

  “And we’ll go, but after,” he said, his voice getting huskier, “I just want you to know that I’d like for you to come back here to spend the night—hell, the rest of the weekend, if you like.”

  He could see her coffee cup tremble.

  But she met his gaze and smiled. “Tonight, I’d like that.”

  He nodded once then rose from his seat. “I’ll shower in the guest bathroom; it’s smaller. You shower in mine. I’ll just grab a change of clothes, and then get out of your way.”

  Her gaze lowered. “Or you could join me…”

  His throat dried. He’d tried really hard to be fair. To give her room to decide they were moving too fast. Apparently, she didn’t need it.

  DIANA COULDN’T BELIEVE what she’d just said. And to a man she’d only met that day. Who was this creature ready to jump the bones of a sexy stranger?

  Still, she wasn’t ready to call Uncle just yet.

  Troy cleared his throat, reached backward to grab his shirt, and pulled it over his head. His moves were slow and deliberate.

  Which gave her time to ogle his fabulously hard, ripped belly and chest.

  He slung the tee over one shoulder then dropped his head forward. He jammed his curled hands on his hips.

  Something about his stance, the long pause where she’d expected he’d be eagerly leading her down the hallway to his shower, told her he wasn’t accepting her invitation. Had she been too eager? Too needy? Should she have played hard to get? She remained seated, eyeing him warily as he scraped a hand over his hair and his face before lifting his gaze.

  “Maybe we should take a step back.”

  She drew a short, harsh breath, feeling as though she’d just been slapped. The first time she’d been attracted, ventured a step on the wild side since Mike, and the man really was turning her down. Heat climbed the back of her neck and crept forward to suffuse her face.

  Pressing his lips tight, he held up a hand. “Don’t think…whatever it is…you’re thinking. I want the shower. I really do.”

  “Just not the company,” she said, her words clipped.

  “No! Hell, no. I just… I’m attracted. Very attracted.” He indicated with his hand toward his crotch, a crude way of showing just how much he wanted her. His cock tented his sweats.

  Exasperated, she pushed upward and strode toward him. “Then what’s the problem? We’re two consenting adults.”

  His gaze searched her face. “I don’t want you embarrassed when we get to the party. If we do it, your guys are gonna know.”

  “Then we don’t go,” she said, shrugging.

  “I kind of have to,” he said, giving her a crooked smile. “The chief expects everyone to attend.”

  She nodded then drew a deep breath. “Look, if you’ve changed your mind—”

  “I haven’t.”

  “But if you do… Maybe I should take my car, just in case I want to leave straight after the party.” She said it breezily, like any confident, experienced woman might, but she cringed inside because she wasn’t.

  “That might be a good idea. Not because you’re going anywhere, but because your buddies would likely feel better knowing you arrived under your own steam.”

  “Are you afraid they’re going to fight you?”

  “Babe, I can handle myself.” He reached out a hand to touch her arm. “Like I said, I don’t want you embarrassed. They’re your friends.”

  She studied him, and she thought he might be lying. A little hint of evasion surrounded him, the way his glance kept moving away, that told her he wasn’t being completely honest. “We’ll play it by ear, then.” She lifted her chin and forced lightness into her voice. “Maybe I’ll find someone else I’d rather go home with.”

  His eyebrows shot upward, but then quickly fell into a frown. “Not funny.”

  “Do I look like I’m kidding?” She bent to retrieve her bag and strode past him. “Your bathroom…?”

  “Last door on the right,” he called after her.

  Holding her back as straight as she could manage, she marched to his bedr
oom, shut the door behind her, and turned the lock. Then she leaned against the door and let loose a long breath that wilted her body. What the hell just happened?

  Recovering, she walked to his bed, noting the large king with its pretty navy and beige duvet and plush matching pillows. Beyond the bed was another set of French doors that led onto the patio with the in-ground pool beyond. If she had the nerve, she’d strip and take a dive into the water right now. She’d even let him watch and hope his erection hurt like hell.

  Oh, she’d noticed it. First in the parking lot before they’d left the competition. Then sitting, her face level with it as he’d tugged off his T-shirt. The way it pressed against his sweats, she could tell the tip was round and blunt, his girth thick, his length… Christ. His erection was why she’d offered to join him in his shower. She’d been dying to see it. Dying to have him drive it high inside her.

  The way his body reacted to hers was only a fraction of how hers had responded to the sight of him, to his crisp manly smell. When she’d landed over his shoulder, she’d felt the depth of his muscles and the power in his frame. Her hands had grasped his rock-hard back. And she’d been gone. Wiped away. Ready that moment to jump him. Just like all those silly women hanging over the rails. She’d felt every bit as giddy and smitten.

  She should be feeling shame, but she wasn’t. No, all she felt right now was hot and horny. She’d have to take a cold shower. Or maybe she should take a little extra time and handle the problem herself. Would he see it in her face when she rejoined him? Worse…would her friends from San Angelo notice?

  He deserved to squirm a bit. Did she really have the nerve? She unzipped her case and pulled out her clothing for the evening—a black sleeveless dress, not styled too sexy but it would cling to her curves, and strappy sandals with slender heels. She held her hand above her black underwear and bra. No one would know. Just the man who danced with her, if he dared slide his hands low enough. Smiling, she shut the case and headed to the bathroom.