Hot As Blazes (29 page)

Her magic fingers carried him to heaven. He drifted as sleep took him.

A stray beam of sunlight streaked through the part in the dark curtains. He woke with the urge to call Bobby.

He needed to learn everything they’d uncovered about Nate. Jo wouldn’t be safe until the man was apprehended. He pushed his nightmare aside. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t killed before―but never in a hostage situation, where things could have gone deadly wrong.

Jo slept soundly beside him with her hair spilling across her shoulders. Even with a black eye, no woman was more beautiful. Poor baby. She’d been through enough.

He ached to make love to her, but his body refused his conscious demand. A vision of bright red blood tore through his subconscious reminding him of gut-wrenching dream. He squeezed his eyes closed and shoved the dark vision into his shit box.

He touched her cheek with a kiss and rolled from bed. How long would it take this time? After being trapped on the roof in Iraq, he was fine except for a mostly superficial bullet wound. A few nights later, he woke in a night sweat. Nightmares soon turned more debilitating than his sexual disability, but the later had concerned him more. He held on to the fact it was a sensual dream of Jo that brought his physical prowess back to norm.

He padded to the kitchen and started the coffeemaker. His call to Bobby shot straight to voice mail. Maybe the lovebirds had made up. Hopefully, his buddy got lucky this morning. Now, if he could get through today without Jo initiating sex, he’d be on shift tomorrow and would have some time to get his head together.

“Morning.” She yawned stepping in the kitchen.

He continued unloading the dishwasher. “Morning.”

“You’re a good housekeeper.”

“Comes with the job.” He turned and pecked her on the lips. “How’s the eye feel? It’s looking better. A ripe shade of plum with a hint of green.”

“Great. I can hardly wait until it’s puke yellow.” She posed like a model.

She’d always be gorgeous to him. “What do you want to do today? Tomorrow’s Wednesday and I’ll be back at the station.”

She gnawed a fingernail. “I don’t know. I’m debating some summer employment. Some of us may not be assigned stations right away.”

Memorial Day was only two weeks away. If she put her application in, she could play lifeguard until she was picked up by a station. He passed her a cup of coffee. “There’s Ocean Rescue. They always need substitutes.”

“Another summer as a lifeguard isn’t at the top of my list.” She sniffed at the vanilla flavored coffee and smiled before taking a sip. “I could pick up extra shifts at Papagayos.”

Fuck that
.

He kept his cool. “Friday and Saturday nights are the biggest tip nights and frankly, I rather you―”

“Let’s not go there this morning.” She rubbed her forehead. “I could call Joel. He offered to cut me in on some surfing lessons.”

Joel and he had surfed together a few times. The surfer had grown up on the Outer Banks and recently emerged as a local entrepreneur in surf lessons and power washing in the off-season. “Might as well see what he’s willing to offer. I’m getting ready to do laundry. Do you need anything washed?”

“Yeah, what I had on yesterday. I only have a three-day rotation now. You firefighters are so organized.” She raised a tawny brow.

“Yep. Going to whip you into shape, probie.” She really hadn’t come to terms with losing everything. Neither had he.

Jo rang Joel’s number while her domesticated Hemanus sorted lights and darks in the downstairs utility room. Her lover’s support, even in the smallest things, tugged at her heart. She wasn’t the only one suffering loss. She suspected his bad dream last night related to her recent troubles.

After a brief conversation with Joel Surferdude she agreed to meet and discuss his business offer. Even after being assigned to a fire station, it wouldn’t hurt make some extra cash on her days off. She had a long replacement list after the fire.

Ray returned from laundry as she finished the call. “You ready for a road trip?”

She grabbed her new backpack. “Where to?”

“You’ll see.”

* * * *

They arrived at a surf shop and she did a mental head slap. “Right, I don’t have surfboard. God, I just know I’m going to head home one day and mindlessly pull into the driveway. I’m a refugee.”

He held the door for her “You’re my refugee, Dahlin’. I’m tore up about the house, too. But you’re alive and that’s what matters. If shopping doesn’t do it for you, food always helps.”

“Yeah, and a brewski should help put things in prospective.”

“You know what they say. It’s five o’clock somewhere.” Dipping his head, he winked a bright blue over top his shades.

His cool and calm exterior hid whatever intruded on his sleep. If he dreamt about killing Vic, she prayed he didn’t feel guilty, or worse, remorse for the deed. He’d saved her and didn’t deserve to be tormented. She wanted to help but didn’t know how.

Her misgivings about his loyalty were on her. He’d taken care of her every need proving he’d make a wonderful father. Glancing at him, she smiled and silently composed a classified ad.
Buff firefighter willing to cook and clean. Excellent at snuffing stalker ex-boyfriends as well as providing out-of-body orgasms.

Speaking of which, he’d left bed this morning without waking her for some loving. She’d have to remedy the situation later on.

Browsing through the boards, sadness crept into her chest. The first surfboard her dad had bought her had perished in the fire. One day she’d wanted to teach her child―

“Don’t see anything you like?” Ray returned from scanning through the longboards.

“Not really in a shopping mood at the moment.”

“You can use mine for now. Have a custom board made when the insurance money comes in. You are a pro, for God’s sake.” He ran a warm hand along her shoulder and drew her close.

“Former.”

“Once a pro always a pro, babe.”

“I trust your judgment.” She nuzzled his cheek. A board didn’t seem important now. Not compared with everything else.

“So how about we take a ride?” He left her guessing his next plan.

“Sure, as long as there’s food involved.”

“I’ll never let you go hungry.” He walked her to the truck.

A salty summer like breeze rifled through the windows as they drove north on Route 12. They slowed as they entered the town of Duck. “Did you know the town is named for the masses of waterfowl that used to migrate here?”

“I remember your dad telling us when we were kids.”

“He worked construction here during the early eighties, on beach houses.”

His eyebrows inched over his shades. “Is that how he wound up living on The Banx?”

“He came for a couple of weeks after graduation and stayed with his grandparents at the beach house.” She glanced over to the shops on the sound side. This distance between the sound and ocean was so close you could see both bodies of water.

He tensed at the mention of the house and put both hands on the wheel. “Glad he decided to stay.”

His grief intensified the loss of her home. “He said he fell in love with the beach and picked up a job framing cottages for the summer. A few weeks later, he met my mom and they married a few months later.”

“No kidding.” He reached for her hand. “So how’d he become a firefighter?”

“Helping some volunteers extinguish a house fire near a jobsite. Bobby said he remembered him and our mother arguing about the job. She didn’t want him being a firefighter. Supposedly, she’d lived here all her life and wanted off the sand bar.”

His knuckles whitened. “You never mentioned he knew she wanted to move from here.”

Maybe her dad had pushed her from home for the same reason. So she wouldn’t do the same to a guy or maybe Ray
.
“We came home from school on a spring afternoon, like today.” “The house was locked, so I went around back and climbed through the garage window.”

A corner of Ray’s mouth curved up. “Ever the athlete.”

“I saw a note on the kitchen table before Bobby found the hidden key. At six, the only words I could read were
love mom.
I handed it to Bobby and I’ll never forget his face.”

He wore the same broken expression when he called her to the police precinct the night they interrogated Sarah. If her mother ever regretted leaving them, they never knew. Maybe part of her hesitation at leaving home for college and surfing had been because of her mother’s choice. “We never heard from her again.”

Ray’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he took her hand. “I’m so sorry, Dahlin’.”

“Old news.” She tightened her fingers in his.

“I came home from school and found Mom crying. She said my dad called and told her he wasn’t coming back. All his clothes and things were gone.” He grimaced. “I turned around and did pretty much the same thing to you. Wasn’t my intent, I just thought you wanted me gone.”

She shook her head. “Never.” She brushed his knuckles with a kiss. “I felt like I deserted Bobby and you by leaving for college after Dad died.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Isn’t it? Maybe not the leaving part, but I didn’t come home to visit because it hurt too much to leave again.”

“Really. I thought you were having so much fun you didn’t want to come back.” He pulled the truck into the parking lot of a café and cut the engine. Then flipped up his shades.

She didn’t want to be seen as weak. “I’m sorry.”

“We’ve all made decisions and done things we regret. Clean slate?”

The second she learned he’d been at her graduation, she’d forgiven him. Saving her from Vic earned him a free pass for life. She leaned over and hugged his neck. “Of course.”

He held her for long seconds then helped her from the truck.

Inside, they sat at a booth by a window.

“Will you be able to pick your days to work for Joel?” He picked up a menu. “It’d be nice if he’d schedule your lessons for the days I’m on shift. Until you’re assigned a station.”

The worst scenario would be if she wound up on a different rotation than him. There might be days they wouldn’t be home at the same time. She scanned a list of burgers and sandwiches. “He said he would plan my schedule around the hours I’m available. So where does Craig work? You said he’s on days for now.”

“He works dispatch for the county and is on rotating shifts like the police. There’ll be times when neither of us will be at the house. Will you be okay?” He frowned.

Their server appeared and took their orders. “I’m not scared, if that’s what you mean. What if he brings over a date? Isn’t it awkward for you guys?”

“The extra room has a sofa and TV to double as a den.”

She’d never toured the house beyond the living areas and his bedroom. They had spent nearly all of their time at the cottage. A place they’d never set foot in again. Hurt welled deep in her chest. It may have only been a house, but was her home and filled with precious memories.

After their drinks arrived, a short, barrel-chested man approached their table. Ray stood and offered a sturdy handshake. “Sam.”

“Ray. How’ve you been? Heard you got on at Station Fifty-One.” He returned the grip.

“A little over a year now. You still volunteering at up at Carova?”

The older man’s eyes crinkled. “Yeah. Don’t want to give it up just yet. Gets me out of the house and away from some of the honey-dos since retiring.” He laughed.

“Sam, this is Jo.” His hand slid across the top of her shoulders.

She offered her hand.

“Ma’am.” He nodded and glanced at Ray. “I think this one’s got you, kid.” He passed her a quick wink.

“You’re right.” He grinned.

“Bring Jo to the station sometime. We love having company. I volunteer on Tuesday and Thursday until around three.”

“Will do.”

Their food arrived and the men said their goodbyes.

“So how many times did you work at Corolla?” Jo unrolled her napkin.

“Enough to know the key code to get in. Most of the time the house is vacant.” He raised his brows and reached for the beer parked in front of him.

“Is that an invitation or fantasy?” Hope welled in her chest.

After sipping his brew, a scant smile did little to cover the worry clouding his eyes. “Maybe both.”

“Might be a place to try something new.” She gave him a shy smile.

He exhaled slowly and cleared his throat. “Think I’d prefer a place where buzzers wouldn’t be going off in the middle of our fun.”

She loved shocking him and dug into her double cheeseburger. “So once we rebuild the house, are you going to move in?” She swiped a fry in catsup.

“It wouldn’t surprise me if Bobby and you aren’t offered a handsome sum for the property. It’s prime beach real estate, you know.” He cocked his head.

The French fry didn’t make it to her lips.

“Damn.” She’d never considered selling. She was adrift in the world, except for the hunk across from her.

“I’m sorry, Jo.” He rubbed his forehead. “Today was supposed to be fun and help you forget everything for a while. So far I’m O and two.”

“Don’t worry, Hemanus.” His gesture made her heart squeeze. “Penny’s Hill might even the score.”

“We can ride around it, but they’ll cite us if they catch us driving on it.” He tempted her with one of his fries.

She nabbed it along with his finger, then said, “Wouldn’t want you to lose your special permit.” Maybe she could coax him to the vacant fire station for some illegal fun. They could both forget their problems.

* * * *

Ray picked a playlist from his music player before he put the truck in four-wheel drive. They left the paved road at Corolla and traveled along the beach.

Back at the restaurant, she’d made it clear she wanted him. Any other time, he would have parked the truck between the dunes, sipped her sweet pussy and then sink into her tight body to take them both to heaven. If he were positive his dick would cooperate, he’d go for his firehouse fantasy as the place was probably vacant.

After a few miles, they reached Carova. Penny’s Hill was the second largest dune on the Outer Banks, and surrounded by a cluster of rough dunes nicknamed the badlands.