Sex and the Single Fireman: A Bachelor Firemen Novel (25 page)

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Um . . . I think you just proved my point.”

His chest rose and fell with a deep chuckle that set her nerves to dancing. “Maybe I have other ways to get my point across.”

A full-body flush passed over her. Other ways . . . such as making love to her until her brain turned to Roman-obsessed mush? Or such as digging through rubble to save her life? “I see what you mean.”

“Do you?” He gave her an intense, sideways look and lowered his voice. “Sabina, I . . . this isn’t easy for me to say.”

She sat up straight as a shaft of electric fear passed through her. He was going to break up with her. She knew the drill. It was exactly what had happened with Greg Harrington when she was sixteen and he was seventeen. He’d taken her out for a few “dates”—more like photo ops. She’d helped him pick out a puppy at the shelter. They’d hit a Dodgers game and eaten gigantic hot dogs. She’d dreamed of him every night, until that last horrible one when she wouldn’t have sex with him in his swimming pool.

The next day his driver had picked her up and she’d joined him in the backseat as they drove around Beverly Hills and he dumped her. “Nothing personal,” he’d said, “but my fans think you’re a little young for me. You feel me?”

Oh yeah, she knew that look in Roman’s eyes. She could practically write the script for him.
Nothing personal, we work together, neither of us wants to leave the station, we both knew it was a mistake . . .
He was going to break her heart, right here and now in front of the San Gabriel Little League and most of the Dane family.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, hurrying to fend off the inevitable. “I feel the same way. We’re on the same page.”

He frowned behind his sunglasses. “We are?”

She lowered her voice to a whisper, even though everyone else’s attention was on the field. “We had one fun night, no need to make more of it than it was.”

He flinched, as if she’d jabbed him with a toothpick. “That’s it, huh? One fun night.”

“Exactly.” Now came the hardest part, the part she’d been wrestling with late at night when her ribs ached. “I figured out why you never came to visit me in the hospital.”

Roman, who had been listening with absolutely no expression, finally raised one eyebrow in question.

“Obviously you didn’t want to give me the wrong idea about us. You didn’t want me to be misled by the fact that you saved my life. And that’s fine. I get it. I agree with you. You were just doing your job.”

Roman leaned forward, elbows on knees. Sabina followed his gaze. On the field, Todd was working with Carly. He made an adjustment to her swing, lifting her elbows higher up. Carly nodded and gingerly swung the bat.

Was Roman even listening to her?

“The situation’s a little awkward, but I think if we’re both totally honest with each other, we can still work together just fine.”

Roman lowered his head so he was looking at the ground between his knees. His voice came in a low, ominous growl. “Honest?”

“Yes. Honest. That’s the key.”

“
Honest?
” The muscles in his forearms jumped as he flexed his fists. “You haven’t said one honest word in the past two minutes.”

“
What?
”

He swung his head toward her. “One fun night? Wrong idea? What kind of crap are you trying to dish out?”

She gaped at him as he rose to his full height, six and a half feet and two hundred plus pounds of virile, potent male. Eyes ablaze, he scorched her with one long, comprehensive glance.

“If you want honesty, Sabina Jones, you come find me. But be prepared for the real thing.” And he stalked away from the bleachers.

Sabina gripped the edge of the bench, feeling the chipped green paint come off in her hands.
Oh my God.

Little shock waves ran through her, up and down, head to toe.

Breathe, Sabina, breathe.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

T
he rest of the clinic passed in a blur of swings and misses and catches and skinned knees. Rather than count strikes, Sabina went over every moment of her encounter with Roman a thousand times. The man was a freaking mystery. One day he was saving her life, the next ignoring her, the next acting goofy with her mother, the next . . . well, she didn’t know what had just happened.

It had sounded like a challenge.

Katie Dane Blake plopped onto the seat next to her. “Was that the famous Chief Roman Ryan keeps talking about? That black-haired giant with the killer ass?”

“Katie, I’m shocked. You’re a married woman.”

“As if I could forget.” She darted a tender look toward the field, where Ryan was gathering up bats. “So do you guys have something going on?”

Sabina had to laugh at Katie’s typically direct approach. “You aren’t working for
Inside Edition
, are you?”

“Nope. For my brother Todd. He thinks you’re cute. And he’s a little shy.”

“Shy?” She looked at the two lean, rangy men on the field, tall as maple trees in a field of worshipping sunflowers. The Little Leaguers were gazing up at them as though they were gods. “Which one’s Todd?”

“I told him you’d say that.” Katie chuckled. “Todd’s the one with the lighter hair. He’s the nice one. Jake’s the demon seed from hell.”

“They both look normal enough.” And attractive. A month ago, before that stoplight in Reno, she would have been extremely interested.

“So whaddaya say? Are you available? Interested? Secretly married to Chief Roman? I have to warn you, neither of my brothers has a clue about relationships. But they’re decent enough.”

Sabina eyed Todd, who met her gaze over a seventh-grader’s head and smiled hopefully. He had nice hazel-green eyes and a troublemaker’s smile. If he was the nice one, she had a feeling the pair of them were a handful.

“Let me think about it.”

“Aha. It’s the hot guy from New York, isn’t it?”

“No.” She drummed her fingers on the bench. Why was she letting one confusing man rule her thoughts like this? Maybe a date with Todd Dane was exactly what she needed. A simple, no-strings-attached evening of fun with a nice baseball player. A play date that wouldn’t roil up her insides and make her all swoony. Sabina Jones was
not
the swoony sort. Not at all. “Sure, I’ll go out with Todd.”

She sent him a sweet smile and a thumbs-up, which made him laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He was cute.

Katie scowled suspiciously. “Are you sure? I saw the way Roman looked at you. Like he wanted to eat you alive.”

“Well, he does have a way with a lecture. And I have a way of pissing him off.”

“Not that kind of eating alive. I thought the two of you would burst into flames right there on the bleachers.”

Sabina flushed hot enough to burst into flames all on her own. “Nothing’s happening between me and Chief Roman. Nothing can and nothing will. Now go tell your brother he’d better take me someplace nice. I have to take Carly home. I’ve barely seen her since I got out of the hospital.”

But Carly wasn’t on the field. No one could remember seeing her in the last few minutes. She wasn’t in the bathroom, a charming structure assembled from blocks of concrete. Nor was she under the bleachers looking for stray balls. Maybe Luke knew where she was.

But she couldn’t find Luke either. Maybe he’d gone home with Roman; but that was impossible. Roman had left early and Luke had stuck around for the rest of the clinic. He was probably catching a ride with one of his buddies. But she was Carly’s ride. Carly wouldn’t have skipped out on her. Had some pervert been watching the game? Had he lured Carly away with candy and balloons?

She tried to quell her sense of rising panic. Carly wasn’t six. It would take more than balloons to fool her. It would take chloroform and a white van with tinted windows, and even so Carly would know what to do. She’d practically grown up on the streets.

Just as she was starting to get seriously worried, she felt someone tap her on the shoulder. Whirling around, she let out a
whoof
of relief. Carly stood before her, grubby and bruised.

“Hey, Sabina.”

“Where have you been?”

Carly frowned at Sabina’s panicky tone. “I helped the coaches take the gear to the van. Sorry, it must have taken longer than I thought.”

Sabina brushed some grass off Carly’s shoulder. “I didn’t even think of that. Don’t mind me, I’m a little scattered lately. I can’t even use painkillers as an excuse anymore.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” Carly leaned on one hip, her typical sassy stance.

“I know. You can handle just about anything.”

“And have.”

True enough. Carly had seen a lot of crap in her short years. “You ready to go?”

“Yep. All ready.” Carly shouldered her gym bag and winced.

“Are you all right? Let me take that.”

“Yeah right, you’re on crutches, Sabina. Besides, it’s nothing. Happened when Todd Dane was showing us his trick for stealing second.” She set off for the curb where Sabina had parked her mother’s Volvo.

Roman’s words came back to her, his question about whether something was up with Carly. Since the fire she hadn’t had much time with Carly. Was she missing something? She picked up the pace, swinging faster on her crutches, but by the time she caught up with Carly at the Volvo, the girl had launched into a detailed comparison of the Dane twins, which one had better fielding skills, which one’s jokes were funnier, which one’s hair was a nicer color. Carly was entering the dreaded teen years, that was all. Everything was just fine.

Roman rapped on
Luke’s door, the door that had been shut tight far too often lately. Inside, a bass line throbbed. After some thumping around, Luke opened it. His room was, as always, a mess—the floor a carpet of discarded clothes, school binders splayed facedown in the corner, old Transformers pieces popping up like neglected monsters. Roman, with his firehouse training, always winced at the sight of Luke’s room, but he’d learned to keep his mouth shut.

A man’s room was his castle, he’d told Luke early on. He could do what he liked there, as long as he stayed within the rules.

Luke still wore his San Gabriel Hardware team T-shirt, but he’d changed into his jeans. Roman remembered the time his son had gotten David Cone’s autograph on a cap and worn it nonstop for the next month.

“Tell me you haven’t made a vow to never change your shirt now that Jake and Todd Dane have been in its presence.”

“Huh?” Luke blinked wide brown eyes at him. He looked distracted, a little spacey.

A terrible suspicion filtered into Roman’s mind. Was his sweet, innocent boy doing drugs? Maybe Ralphie had gotten him into pot, or—his brain went into a wild spiral of fear—crack. Was that why Luke kept locking himself in his room, why he was keeping secrets from his own father?

He seized Luke’s chin and tilted his head up so he could examine his son’s eyes. Dilated pupils, that was a sign of drugs. Bloodshot eyes. What else? If Luke was doing drugs . . . He’d drag him back to New York, that’s what he’d do. No wiggle room on that rule.

Luke’s eyes looked not only perfectly clear, but perfectly furious. Luke jerked his head away. “What are you doing, Papa?”

“Just checking something,” Roman mumbled, embarrassed.

“Geez, Papa. What, you think I’m doing drugs?”

They stared each other down. Roman blinked first. He cleared his throat. Should he apologize? Why did he never know what to say to Luke anymore?

“What do you want, Papa?”

“I just wanted to see how the clinic went after I left. Coach take you home?”

“No, I hitched a ride. With a drug dealer.”

“Very funny. So how was it?”

Roman waited for Luke to invite him in, but he didn’t. Instead he stood, gripping the edge of the door, clearly waiting impatiently for this father-son moment to pass. “Cool. Jake said if I keep working hard I can probably play for USC. He thinks my fastball needs some work. Too easy to read. I have to disguise my motion more.”

“Good. Let’s do it. I’ll get my glove.”

“He didn’t mean right this minute.” Luke glanced over his shoulder, where his computer was displaying a manic field of stars. “I’m busy right now.”

“Later then?”

“Sure.” Luke gave him a furtive look, something Roman had never seen on his face before. “That’d be great.”

With a firm hand, Roman kept the door open one moment longer. “Luke, if something was bugging you, you’d tell me, right?”

“Of course.” Luke rolled his eyes with some of his old spirit, but it didn’t fool Roman. Something was definitely up. He resolved to keep an extra close eye on his son for the next couple of days. “By the way, Papa, did you hear that Todd Dane has a crush on Sabina? He asked her out.”

“
What?
”

But Luke was already closing the door, and Roman wasn’t about to make a fool of himself asking questions like a sixth-grader.

He wandered into the living room and flicked on the TV. He wasn’t sure what made him feel worse, the scene with Luke or the news about Todd and Sabina. So what if Todd had a crush on her? Who wouldn’t? Didn’t mean anything. A good football game, that’s what he needed. Or maybe a boxing match. When everything on TV seemed to be a sappy Christmas movie, he tossed the remote aside and stretched out, arms behind his head. He gazed up at the plaster ceiling with the smoked-glass light fixture and turned this new information over in his mind. It didn’t take long to come to a very firm decision.

Sabina couldn’t go out with anyone else. Absolutely not.

The idea of her holding another man’s hand as she walked into a restaurant, the man taking her coat, letting his fingers linger in her silky hair, giving him one of her sparkling smiles . . . no, no, no. Not going to happen. Not up for debate.

He had to call her right away and communicate this important message. He snatched up his cell phone and punched her number. He’d figure out what to say once she answered. Maybe something like
You’re mine, woman, all mine
.

He snorted. She might roll her eyes at the caveman approach. Maybe he should work on something with a little more finesse.

Sabina’s outgoing message answered the call. Her husky voice told him, “You’ve reached my cell. I’ll get back to you. Eventually.”

Eventually
. Not good enough. Savagely, he ended the call without leaving a message. What could he say?
If Todd Dane even thinks of asking you out, I’ll beat his ass into the outfield and back again. You come here where you belong. In my bed. I’ll let you out when I’m good and ready.

God, he was a primitive beast of a man. Sabina was an independent, intelligent woman who wouldn’t appreciate playing prey to his hunter.
Finesse, Roman, Finesse
.

He dialed her home number. When Annabelle answered, he nearly hung up, since he had no idea how to express any of this to Sabina’s mother. Feeling like a teenager, he said, “Hi, Annabelle. I’m looking for Sabina. Is she around?”

“Is this Todd Dane?”

“No.”

“Not . . . Greg Harrington, is that you?”

Roman’s teeth hurt from clenching his jaw too hard.
Greg Harrington?
The action star? “No, this is Roman.
Battalion Chief
and Section Commander Roman,” he added for extra impact, to make up for the lack of car chases in his life.

“Oh. My, that’s quite a title.” She sounded far too amused. Enjoying this, was she?

Roman summoned all his patience. “May I speak with Sabina, please?”

“No, I believe she had plans tonight.”

He kicked his footstool, sending it toppling. “Thank you.” He hung up before he could say something inappropriate, like
You crazy lady, how the hell did Sabina come out so levelheaded?

And compassionate.

And strong. And heroic.

And beautiful. Well, that part wasn’t a surprise. But she could so easily have made a life by trading on her looks. Instead she’d chosen something uniquely hers. The San Gabriel Fire Department was lucky.

But he wasn’t about to let Todd Dane get lucky.

Sabina gazed into
Todd’s non-black eyes, which held not a hint of midnight blue in their depths. She admired his hair, the color of Malibu beach sand—most definitely not black as a pirate’s. Nor was his physique, though fit and trim, anything like the massively powerful body of  . . .

But she’d sworn not to think about Roman tonight. Not to let him tie her up into knots any longer. She smiled at Todd, who answered with a delighted grin.

“Did I do okay? Katie said I had to prove up and pick someplace worthy of you.”

“Worthy?” Uh oh, he wasn’t seeing her as Taffy McGee/Sally Hatfield, was he?

“You’re a firefighter. According to Katie, the firemen of San Gabriel walk on water. If anyone has a bad word to say about any of you, they’d better keep it to themselves around her.”

Sabina laughed. “As my aunt used to say, ‘She’s a pistol.’ ” Well, the aunt on
You and Me
said that. Frequently. “And yes, you picked the perfect place.”

He’d chosen an upscale Thai restaurant with ivory tablecloths, candles nestled into little bronze elephants, well-trained waiters, a rippling jazz piano in the background. The only thing missing was . . . but she wasn’t going to think about
him
right now.

Todd twirled some pad Thai around his fork. “Is it difficult being a female firefighter?”

Score one for Todd Dane. He actually looked interested in her answer. He wasn’t what she’d expected in a baseball player. For some reason, she’d assumed he’d be like the actors she’d dated, except he’d talk about his stats rather than his latest reviews. But he was funny and down-to-earth and hadn’t once mentioned his batting average. And every woman in the restaurant was eyeing her with envy. He was a good-looking man, the kind any sane, single woman would want a play date with.

“It was hard at first,” she answered. “I had to prove myself. And I had to get used to the firehouse atmosphere. They teased me a lot. Tested me. But they were never mean or unfair. Now I love them all like brothers.”