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Authors: Amy Knupp

Tags: #Texas Firefiighters

Playing with Fire (6 page)

BOOK: Playing with Fire
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CHAPTER SIX
L
ATER THAT NIGHT
,
Derek was reminded that while
he
wasn’t looking for fun, Macey might be. And that she was perfectly capable of attracting male attention, especially with that sexy little tee and those shorts that showed off her legs. They weren’t supermodel mile-long or anything—she was almost a foot shorter than him—but they were nice legs nonetheless. With just the right amount of curves and muscles and softness. Not that he was interested for himself. But he had no trouble seeing why other guys might be.
He’d not had to worry about anyone but himself for the past few months, but dammit, now that she was here he couldn’t help worrying about her. Or rather, the men who pursued her.

Derek had witnessed more than a handful of guys flirting with her as she took their orders, delivered their cheese fries, grabbed their bottles of beer. For the most part, she was good at being friendly but noncommittal. She had a sway to her hips, though, that he was sure she wasn’t aware of. He wished he could say the same for all the men in the place.

These two guys now, for example. Derek saw them come in, watched them when they spotted Macey and could tell they were interested in her as they took the last two available seats at the bar.

“Macey, what’s up?” one of them said.

How the hell did they know her?

She walked over to them with a big smile, and Derek moved closer.

“What are you guys doing here?” Macey asked them.

“Looking for you,” the second one said.

“Thought we’d check the place out. Haven’t been here since it reopened,” the first guy said.

Derek stepped next to Macey. “Need anything?” he asked her.

“Derek, this is Evan Drake and Clay Marlow. They live in the same building as me.”

He nodded at them.

“They’re local firefighters,” she added, and he could tell by her tone she was anxious to gauge his reaction to that announcement.

Derek took his time in acknowledging her statement. He straightened and happened to spot Andie peeking around the doorway of the kitchen at that moment. She appeared to be sizing up Macey’s firefighters. Scratch that…they weren’t
Macey’s
anything.

“Who’s the brunette?” the guy Macey had introduced as Clay asked, nodding toward Andie.

“Resident rebel without a cause,” Derek said. “Andie’s our Harley-riding cook-bartender.”

“One of those, huh? Sounds like trouble.” Clay nodded and did his best to act indifferent, but Derek saw him glance one more time at her. “You the one Macey mentioned was with the Dallas Fire Department?”

He didn’t like Macey telling people his business—especially
that
business—to people he didn’t know. But there wasn’t much he could say to her now without drawing undue attention to it. “Sure am,” he confirmed.

“You quit?” Evan asked. There was interest and curiosity in his tone, no censure.

“Came down here to run this place for my retired uncle,” Derek said.

“We could use you at the station,” Clay suggested. “Seems like we’ve always got a spot open.”

Macey was watching him too closely.

“I’m working this place seven days a week,” he said, feigning regret. “There’s no way I could do it.”

“Maybe when we hire a few more people,” Macey said.

Derek was glad as hell to see two women step up to the bar. Without acknowledging Macey’s grand idea, he moved toward them, forced a smile and took their order.

I
T WAS AFTER MIDNIGHT
and Andie had left for the night. Derek was in back serving up some seviche when Macey stuck her head in the room. “Could you get me two more of those?” she asked, motioning toward the paper tray in his hand.
“Macey,” he said before she could return to the front. “Watch yourself with those two.”

She paused. “Evan and Clay? They’re harmless, Dare.”

“The one on the left wants you.”

“They’re my neighbors. That’s all.”

“Don’t be naive.”

She shook her head as if he was out of his mind, and hurried to the cash register. Maybe he
was
out of his mind. That they were firefighters was about the only thing keeping him from asking them to leave. Most firefighters were honorable guys, but still, he knew plenty who enjoyed reaping the benefits of the firefighter image. They went through women faster than most people went through potato chips. Macey wasn’t like that, had never been the type to date casually. Come to think of it, he hadn’t ever been aware of her dating at all. She hadn’t had any long-term relationships that he remembered. All the more reason the guy at the bar needed to leave her alone, honorable or not.

The two stayed until closing. When Derek and Macey walked out and he locked up, they were sitting at one of the outdoor tables.

“Aren’t you guys out past your bedtime?” she asked, smiling.

“We’re waiting for you,” Evan said. “Thought we’d walk you home. Keep you safe.”

Derek didn’t need to look at him—he could hear the guy’s grin.

“I’ll walk you home,” he told Macey.

“I’ll be fine,” she replied. “You live the other way.”

“I want to. I owe you from the other night.”

“You don’t owe me anything…but suit yourself.”

Damn straight he would.

He double-checked all the shutters and shoved the keys into the deep pocket of his cargo shorts. He and Macey joined the other two. She started toward the sand.

“We could take the street, you know,” Derek said. “It’s a shorter route.”

“But it has no view.” Macey sounded energetic, as if she hadn’t been working for the past fourteen hours. “How can you live on an island and not want to take in the beach every chance you have?”

He knew his answer—that he barely noticed the beach—wasn’t what she wanted to hear, so he just followed her and the others down the stairs.

D
EREK WAS ACTING SO
strangely tonight. Macey knew he was concerned that she shouldn’t trust Evan and Clay, but she was a good judge of character. They were reliable. Safe. They wouldn’t hurt her. Evan was a flirt, yes, but that’s just how he was. Clay was more straightforward. Both were friendly, and she liked listening to their banter.
She supposed she should be glad Derek took notice of anything, even if his opinion of her neighbors was off base. His interest tonight was much better than his ongoing apathy and weariness. She also couldn’t deny the thrill she still got from his protectiveness, even though it was only meant in friendship.

“So how long you going to do the bar thing?” Evan asked Derek as they walked along the sand in a widespread row.

“As long as I need to,” he said. “My uncle signed it over to me, but he’s there every day checking up on things.”

“Are you done with firefighting for good?” Clay asked.

Derek didn’t answer right away. “Done with it for now. I needed the break.”

Both Clay and Evan nodded as if they understood, and Macey wondered if they’d ever suffered a tragedy anything like Derek had. What were the chances of trying to fight the fire that killed your girlfriend? She knew firefighters saw too much loss, more catastrophes than any person should have to witness, and she couldn’t imagine what it took to handle that. She certainly didn’t have it in her. Their job made living in an underdeveloped country seem like child’s play.

“Well, if you ever change your mind, give us a call, man,” Evan said.

“I’ll keep that in mind. I’ve got my hands full trying to keep Gus happy for now.”

“I know a little bit about trying to keep the family happy. They can be pains.” Evan’s affection for his family came through despite the complaint, though.

“Families are right up there alongside women for being pains,” Clay said. “No offense, Macey.”

“What do you know about women?” Evan asked. “You haven’t been on a date in ages.”

“I grew up with a houseful of sisters.”

“You should ask the Harley girl out,” Evan said.

“Not interested. I need a Harley girl like I need another sister.”

“You sure checked her out a lot for not being interested.”

“Here we are.” Macey broke in as they crossed the street to their building. “Home sweet home…away from home. Anyone need a drink or a Ding Dong?”

“Ding Dongs? That’s my cue to call it a night,” Clay said. “Nice to meet you, Derek.”

“I never mix beer and Ding Dongs myself,” Evan added.

Macey laughed and waved as they headed to their apartment. “So?” she asked Derek, trying hard not to care if he said no.

“I’ll take you up on the drink. You can keep the junk food.”

“Like your meals at the bar are so much healthier. When’s the last time you had a home-cooked meal?”

“Couldn’t even tell you,” he said in a disinterested tone.

“I’m no gourmet, but maybe one night I’ll cook and force it down your throat.”

“Promises, promises.”

“The challenge would be prying you from your hidey-hole at the bar.”

“It’s not my hidey-hole. It’s my job.”

Restraining herself from arguing, she unlocked the door and he followed her inside.

“You really didn’t have to do the manly man thing, walking me home.”

“Wanted to.”

“Why didn’t you tell them why you’re taking a break?” she asked as she went to the kitchen and got him a glass of ice water, since she still didn’t have anything else. She helped herself to her chocolate fix and carried the glass to the living room.

“Why would I?”

She ripped the plastic off the Ding Dong and shrugged. “Because they can relate? Because they would understand?”

He set the glass aside, untouched, and paced away from her. On the other side of the small room, he faced the wall, rubbed his temples. “It’s hard as hell to admit out loud that I’m not up to the task of saving people, Mace. But I’m not. So damn…not.”

Macey had to fight the urge to go to him, to touch him. His posture told her to stay away, and she knew him well enough to recognize how hard it had been for him to say that.

“Have you ever thought that maybe it would be good to force yourself to go back to it? Maybe the extreme focus firefighting demands would help you.”

“I don’t have it in me to focus on anything other than a drink here and a hamburger there. That’d be a catastrophe waiting to happen.”

She set her chocolate cake down on the end table, unable to stay away from him any longer. When she put her hands on his shoulders, though, he flinched.

“Don’t.”

Macey jumped back, startled by his harsh tone, even though she’d known full well he wouldn’t want her to try to comfort him in any way.

“Please.” He turned, but still didn’t look at her. “I have to go.”

She closed her eyes and let him walk out of her apartment.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t push the sting of his rejection away. What was she doing here? Why was she fighting this battle when he didn’t want her help, didn’t want her around?

Maybe they’d both be better off if she just went back to Dallas and got on with her life. This mission of hers seemed more ill-advised and hopeless every day.

CHAPTER SEVEN
M
ACEY’S PITY PARTY
was over by the time she popped out of bed at seven the next morning. She had too much to do to feel sorry for herself for long. And when she stepped back from her conversation with Derek the night before, she knew he hadn’t intended to hurt her. It was nothing personal. It was all about him and the grief and sadness that were burying him.
She threw on some capri sweats and a comfy old tee and drove to the coffee shop she’d spotted several blocks away. Normally she’d walk, just to enjoy the day, but she wanted to get started on work for her nonprofit this morning. She was also tossing around ideas for a business plan for The Shell Shack, even though Derek hadn’t asked her to. She knew his response to something so formal would be an eye roll or a head shake. But it was the way Macey worked best. Everything accounted for, noted on paper. That was the way to succeed, and though Derek didn’t currently care about much, she knew he wanted the bar to do well for his uncle’s sake.

The coffee shop was jumping. She ordered a large mocha with extra chocolate syrup, and couldn’t pass up a slice of cinnamon coffee cake, as well. She took them to go and hurried back to her apartment. When she pulled into the parking lot, she spotted Clay squatting next to a dark blue oversize truck, shining the wheel rims. A hose stretched from behind the eight-plex they lived in, and a sponge, a bucket and a couple of cloths were scattered near him.

“Morning,” Macey said as she walked past.

“You’re up early. I thought bartenders slept half the day away.”

“Guess I’m a novice. You’re off again today? Don’t they ever make you work?”

“Got a twenty-four tomorrow morning. We work every third day.”

“Ah, the luxury,” Macey joked, fully aware of how taxing a shift could be for them. She had run into Derek post-shift a few times when she’d been home from school. The danger he and his fellow firefighters willingly put themselves in on a daily basis never failed to awe her. That was Derek—concerned about others, protective to a fault, willing to do whatever it took to get the job done. All reasons she cared so much about him and always would. Even though he was almost unrecognizable right now.

BOOK: Playing with Fire
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