How to Seduce a Fireman: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance (22 page)

Ryder called him just as they were ready to leave the hospital. He’d found six cameras and eight listening devices. He only removed seven of the bugs, hooking up the eighth, found in the kitchen, to a voice-activated recording of Furball meowing and purring looped in with some Lady Gaga tunes. Ryder’s thinking was if none of the bugs recorded any sounds, whoever was putting them in would only return and install more.

At that moment, all he wanted was a hot bath and a soft bed. The fact that his angel insisted on joining him was almost lost on his exhausted mind. After their baths, they snuggled between the sheets and, under the influence of both of their pain medicines, they quickly fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Until the alarm went off at seven o’clock for them to meet his parents for breakfast.

His raging hard-on ached so badly for release against the warm, rounded bottom she had shoved against his groin, he kissed her neck and shoulders while his hands fondled her breasts. She rolled over in his arms and pushed him onto his back.

“I was wrong to leave your arms yesterday to run into my brother’s.” She slithered down his chest and abdomen and then twirled her tongue around the head of his cock. “I won’t ever put anyone before you again.” Her lips curved in that lovable ornery way she had. “Quinnie Bruce.” Then she licked the drop of pre-come from the slit in his head and worked magic with her tongue and mouth.

He fisted her hair. “Angel. God that feels so fucking good.” She took all of him into her mouth until the tip banged the back of her throat. Then she reached for his nipple ring, gave it a few tugs while she sucked and licked, sending him right over the edge of sexual madness.

Cassie removed her bandages before dressing to meet Quinn’s parents. Her cuts were healing nicely. She wore a pale purple long-sleeved cowl-neck sweater, dark purple jeans and black low-heeled boots. Although she kept telling herself she didn’t need to make an impression, she still battled the flutter of gigantic butterflies.

“Should I wear my hair up or down?” She twisted and turned in front of the mirror, holding her hair off her neck, thinking of how she could pile it on top of her crown.

“Now, that’s just plain mean.” Quinn leaned against the doorway to the bathroom, his arms folded across his light blue button-up shirt. The back of his head was too swollen to slip on one of his typical t-shirts. “You made them shave my head and now you want
my
advice on how you should wear
your
hair?”

She snuggled against him, enjoying the smell of his woodsy soap and cologne. “I don’t see why you’re complaining. You didn’t mind fisting your hands in my hair earlier.”

He laughed and smacked her ass. “Wear it down and tousled so they know what an inconvenience meeting them for breakfast is.” He backed her against the wall, his hands on her hips. “ʼCause I could be riding you long and hard right now. There’s something on the bed for you.”

She pulled back and glared at him. “Oh, I’ll just bet there is.”

“Look at it while I feed Furball and give him some fresh water.”

On his freshly made bed lay a calendar opened to the month of June and a red magic marker. A post-it note was stuck to the calendar. “Pick any date not X’d out and drawl a circle around it.” She sat down, calendar in hand and stared at the month. The only days not crossed out were Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays. What was she doing? Planning for a day of scuba-diving? A weekend at Disney World? What?

She carried the calendar and marker out to the kitchen and smiled at Quinn hand-feeding the cat treats. Sliding onto one of the bar stools between the kitchen and living area, she slapped the plastic calendar onto the counter.

“What date did you pick, angel?”

“What am I choosing a date for? Knowing what we’ll be doing that day might help me chose.”

He crossed the room and folded his arms on the snack bar directly across from her. His blue-grey eyes bore into hers and softened. “I’m hoping we’ll be getting married.”

Focused on the “M” word, her mind froze. Evidently her jaw gaped because Furball came over and stuck his nose in her open mouth and sniffed. “M…Married?”

“Yeah, I know it’s customary for the man to present the future bride with an engagement ring first, but with my parents in town, I thought it would be nice to announce a date to them. That is if you still want to marry me.”

“But it has to be June? Don’t couples usually pick a date together?”

“I’m an alpha male and I make no apologies for it. Where you’re concerned, I’ll be possessive as hell, indulgent at times and adoring of most everything you do…as long as you put me first most of the time. I chose June because April’s getting married in April. Wolf and Becca’s big day is in May. If June’s too soon, which month would you prefer? It gets so damn hot here in August, I’d rather not put on a tuxedo then. What are your thoughts? October? November?”

“I want a house and I want babies.”

One of his slow, sexy-as-hell smiles spread. “I think we can handle two children and a modest rancher.”

She snatched the marker off the counter and pulled the cap off with her teeth. “Then, Quinnie Bruce,” she circled the second Saturday in June. “We’ve just set a date to start making babies. Do I have time to send a mass ‘save the date e-mail’ to everybody?” She clapped her hands in excitement.

“You send your email while I call for a taxi. My Harley’s at the station and the Jeep’s got four flat tires thanks to Chris. Your car’s not here. We’ll start getting our lives back to normal this afternoon.”

Cassie flipped open his laptop and opened a couple of programs. “Face it. You’re marrying me. Your life will never be normal again. I’ll just announce the date in the e-mail. We’ll decide on the time of day and location later.”

****

Quinn had his arm firmly around her waist when they entered Sandy Seashells, one of the best places to eat breakfast in Clearwater. A middle-aged man and woman stood when they walked in. He hugged the older woman, her blond hair shoulder length and eyes a clear blue. “Sorry we were late, Mom. We were setting a wedding date. This is Cassie Wolford, my future bride.”

His mother pressed a hand to her expensive silk blouse. “A wedding date? Well, this is certainly news!” She wrapped Cassie’s hands in hers. “I hope you’ll call me Selena or Mom.” Her warmth shone through. No wonder Quinn talked so fondly of her.

“Selena, I hope you’ll save the second Saturday in June for our wedding. The whole weekend, actually. I could probably use your opinion on a lot of last-minute things.”

A blush of excitement kissed her cheeks. “Oh, nothing would please me more. Buck, our boy is finally getting married and settling down. Isn’t Cassie gorgeous? No wonder he fell for her.” She reached out to touch Cassie’s angel necklace. “What a beautiful piece of jewelry.”

“Thank you. This means a lot to me. It was a present from Quinn. He calls me ‘angel’ as a nickname.”

Selena blotted her eyes. “Isn’t that the dearest thing, Buck?” She glanced at her son. “He must love you very much.”

If Selena was friendly warmth, Buck was some weird-assed ice.

“Why in God’s name did you shave your head?” The self-important man sat and flicked his linen napkin over his lap. “You look like a dick with ears.”

“Buck!” Selena elbowed him, sadness edging the deep blue of her eyes.

While the waitress poured them cups of coffee, Cassie glanced at her future husband, the muscles in his jaw twitched. Is this what he’d put up with from his father? Well, Quinn might be the alpha in their relationship, but she was the momma bear. And maybe it was time she made that fact clear.

She smiled and leaned toward Buck-the-jerk. “It was my idea he shaved. You see, his bald head matches my bald cunt.”

Quinn spewed coffee all over his dad’s pristine white shirt. Once he quit coughing, he wrapped his fingers around Cassie’s chin. “God, woman, you do brighten my life.”

From that point on, breakfast was strained. She was sorry if she’d added to the tension, but Quinn made it clear with little touches here and there that he wasn’t upset with her. They ate off each other’s plates, something they’d always done. She kept a close eye on the time and, on the hour, opened a bottle of medicine and tipped two pills into Quinn’s outstretched hand.

“Why is he taking drugs?” Honest to Pete, if Buck’s forehead wrinkled anymore, one could play it for a harp.

“He had six stitches in the back of his head last night.” Quinn’s hand squeezed her thigh in silent warning. “He had a work-related accident.”

Selena’s expression filled with concern. “So that’s why his head is shaved?”

“Yes. If Buck would have been less rude, I wouldn’t have needed to be crude in return, but no one insults my man and walks away unscathed.”

“You’re a very protective woman.” Selena’s cup stilled partway to her mouth. “I like that.”

“I was raised in a protective family. A lot of it rubbed off. Even an alpha needs someone to take care of him, spoil him a little bit.”

Quinn’s pinky finger rubbed back and forth over her pussy—thank God for the tablecloth that hid what his fingers were doing to her. The blueberry pancakes trembled off her fork before it reached her mouth. “Need some help, angel?” He winked before jabbing a forkful of pancakes and feeding her a bite.

****

Two days later, Cassie rang the doorbell at Becca’s townhouse. As soon as the door opened, her future sister-in-law enveloped her in a hug. “Can you believe it? Three brides in three months? This family knows how to do romance right.” She was laughing when she stepped back. Her expression quickly changed.

“Cassie, what’s wrong?” She led her into the living room where Einstein sat obediently on his chair. He wiggled and whined for Cassie’s attention. She sat on the floor and patted for the German shepherd to join her.

“If you have the time, I need to talk to you as a reporter.”

“Of course.”

“I’m getting all these weird vibes and I don’t know if I’m truly sensing something wrong or just overreacting to nothing.”

Becca opened a desk drawer and pulled out a tablet and a couple of pens. She curled up on her sofa. “So you want to see if I get a strange gut feeling too?”

“Yeah.” She scratched behind Einstein’s ears. “Or tell me to let it go, and I will, because I trust your reporter instincts.”

“Tell me everything you know. Preferably in order, but it doesn’t have to be. Our minds don’t always recall things in a precise pattern.” Becca pulled out her rubber band and fingered her long red hair into a tighter ponytail before winding the band around her tresses again. “Where do you want to start?” She held out a hand. “Do you want a can of soda and some cookies? I just made some snickerdoodles.”

“Sure. Is that why it smells so good in here. It’s the baked cinnamon and sugar.”

Einstein whined.

Becca pointed at the exuberant dog. “You get one doggie chew. No cookies.”

Cassie was sure the dog whined, “Awl, Mom.”

Cassie moved to the other end of the sofa once Becca set a plate of cookies and two cans of soda on the coffee table. Einstein stretched out on the floor and chewed his rawhide treat, although one eye stayed on the plate of home-baked treats.

“Telling you this has to be private. I’ll be sharing some of Quinn’s relationship with his dad and I’m not sure how he’ll feel about that.”

“He’s already told Wolf, hon. I don’t think you’re betraying a trust.”

Cassie started talking and Becca took notes. Cassie reached for another cookie and stared at Becca. “When Chris had me captive, he told me something.”

“Go on.”

“He said after the shitstorm happened in Chile, Quinn insisted there was a mole in DC, in either the State Department or the DEA, but that he—Chris—had been
one of them
all the time.”

“One of them. He used the expression ‘one of them’?”

“Yes.” Cassie shuddered at the memory. “When he pressed the barrel of his gun under my chin, he insisted Quinn had never been his friend and that being head of the team in Chile should have been Chris’s job. He claimed DB had promised it to him. That his security clearance was higher and his work experience more extensive than Quinn’s. But Buck Gallagher gave the position to Quinn. Thought the undercover involvement would make a man out of him. Now, why would he help Quinn’s career when he wouldn’t even go watch him play football in college? Does that make sense to you? Because it doesn’t to me.”

“Evidently the man’s career meant more to him than his son.” Becca glanced at her. “You’re sure Chris used the specific initials DB?”

“Believe me. I remember every word he and his brother said to me. Every disgusting word.” She gave an involuntary shudder.

Becca stopped writing and stared off. “Let me check something for a second.” She stood and opened the small middle drawer of the desk, removing a bank envelope. She dumped out a deposit slip and a check which she studied for a minute. “Did you know every man involved in your rescue was paid and paid quite well?”

“No. Quinn never mentioned it.”

“Look at the check.”

Becca handed it to Cassie who gasped at the amount. “Ten thousand dollars?”

“Now look at the account the check was drawn on.” Becca pursed her lips.

“DB Enterprises Incorporated? Holy hell!” Cassie handed the check back as if she couldn’t bear to touch it. The paper seemed dirty, somehow. “What are you thinking?”

Becca placed the check back in the envelope, returned it to the drawer and reached for another cookie before she sat. “Gut instinct? Whoever runs DB Enterprises is the real mole, or the chief mole, in the department. I’m betting he had a group of eager young men working for him, like Chris, and offered them promotions if they did whatever he ordered. Enter Mr. Gallagher, who wanted to help his son get ahead. Evidently he had more influence and used it.”

“He made sure Quinn got that assignment in Chile.”

Becca nodded. “Which could explain his anger when the mission went badly. He’d stuck his neck out to promote his son and then things went belly-up, making Mr. Gallagher look like a fool.”

“A man and his pride.”

“Oh yeah,” Becca breathed. “You don’t ever want to mess with a man’s pride. So, Quinn resigns and things are fine and dandy for a few years. Until…”

“Until Quinn sends out feelers for job openings in the State Department and the DEA. Within hours, the text arrives threatening my life.”

“Makes sense, doesn’t it?” Becca guzzled her soda.

“Yes. Yes, it does.”

Becca studied her notes. “We need to find out who this DB is. That could be a very big key.” After reaching for her can of soda, she held it partway to her mouth. “Jace has his doubts, too. He said it was like Buck knew everything about Quinn’s life, like he was keeping close track.”

“Why do that when he refused to talk to him?”

“I know. Right? It’s all weird. Jace said the old man came by the military equipment and the funds to pay them awfully fast when you consider how slowly the government moves in every other area.”

“There’s something else. When I met Quinn’s parents, I could see no family resemblance between the three of them. While Selena has deep blue eyes, they’re not like Quinn’s. Buck is tall, thin to the point of being gaunt, blond thinning hair, green eyes and a weak chin. Neither parent has a strong, square chin like Quinn or dimples. I saw zero family resemblance.”

“You think he was adopted?”

Cassie shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s like this emotional disconnect with his dad. He showed zero concern—zero, mind you—when he found out Quinn had stitches in the back of his head. Selena expressed the typical worry of a mother, but the old man could have cared less. He was rude to Quinn and I gave him a dose of attitude right back.”

Becca laughed. “I’ll just bet you did.”