The Firefighter's Appeal (Harlequin Superromance) (12 page)

BOOK: The Firefighter's Appeal (Harlequin Superromance)
2.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“You owe me a steak, woman.”

She wore a look of self-satisfaction. “And you owe
me
the pleasure of watching you cry like a baby while you get a tattoo, because I’m fairly certain we just made a deal in there.”

A second of near-palpable heat pulsed between them before they both laughed. She was right, and he was on cloud nine. Being this close to getting things rolling for Brad was uplifting. And he had Lily to thank.

Without thinking, Garrett brushed a stray piece of hair away from her cheek. The backs of his fingers tingled at the softness of her skin, his heart racing as she lightly leaned into his touch.

He leaned closer to her ear. “You were brilliant.”

Lily’s eyelids fell to half-mast, her breath holding for a beat. The pulse at her neck was tapping quickly against her fair skin, filling Garrett with ridiculous satisfaction that she was as into this moment as he was.

“I don’t even care that it was at my expense.”

His hand wrapped around the back of her neck. Her fingers dug into his shirt, clutched the fabric, but she didn’t push him away. Garrett searched her face, took in the scattered bit of freckles over the bridge of her nose and the perfect rise of her cheekbones. Dark eye shadow and liner made the brilliant blue of her eyes stand out. And that red lipstick... It had become the bane of a good night’s sleep. He couldn’t see red lately without having a passing thought of her, which had been especially challenging at the firehouse, where every truck was crimson. Red was ruined for the rest of his life.

“What are you doing?” Her palms flattened against his chest. His skin heated under her touch. She’d been the last woman to touch him, that night in the gazebo, and his body remembered the sensation of her hands now. His fingers crept into her soft, smooth hair.

“Thinking about kissing you.”

“Just thinking about it?” The admission in that statement cost her. He could tell by the way her shoulders stiffened and her neck went tight. So there was heat under the ice.

Garrett cupped the back of her head in his palm. “Should I be thinking about it?” He tipped his head just right, moved in until her sweet breath touched his lips. “Or acting on it?”

Lily leaned into him, pressing until she simply fit—the length of her molding to the length of him everywhere that made his body buzz. If that wasn’t encouragement, he was really losing his ability to read women’s signals. Garrett pulled her head up for his kiss. It was soft, this first touch of lips, and didn’t come close to easing the demand coursing through him.

Lily moaned in a breathy sigh, her mouth parting to urge him on. Her shirt ruffled as he traced his palm down her ribs to the flare of her hip. Lily arched slightly, her spine taking the curve of the truck door as he leaned into her.

The take-control woman she’d been in the restaurant was nowhere to be found, and he was just as pleased that he had the ability to turn her to jelly as he was to have the control. He kissed her longer, flicking her lips apart with his tongue, blending her mouth with his. Her hand slid into his hair. The strong, tender glide of her slim fingers along his scalp was delicious and sent a shiver over his body.

Garrett knew he should pull away. She’d been so standoffish about anything unrelated to their working relationship, yet she leaned into his kiss as if she’d craved it. As if sensing his thoughts, Lily abruptly pulled back. She covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes wide. Garrett realized just then how hard he was breathing, how hard she was.

They stared at each other a moment before Lily’s fingers fell away from her lips. Garrett waited for it—expecting a sharp word to come from her. Something. But she didn’t say anything.

Voices wafted their way from across the parking lot. The sound seemed to propel both of them into motion. She moved aside; he opened the truck door for her. She gave him a quick glance before sliding in, and was silent and looking out her window when he slid in behind the wheel.

The sudden awkwardness was fitting punishment, Garrett supposed. He’d gotten caught up in the excitement of the moment. So had she, apparently. They could set this aside, focus on the job and get it done. He opened his mouth to say so...maybe to apologize, though he wasn’t especially sorry, but Lily held up her hand and gave a curt shake of her head.

“Don’t say anything.”

“What?”

She took a deep, patient breath. “Don’t. Speak.” Her eyes were pleading when she finally looked at him. To his relief, there was no regret, no anger, in her expression. “I’d like to be in my own head right now, please.” She clicked her seat belt and went back to looking out the window.

Garrett ran a palm over his mouth, struggling to stay quiet when there were things he wanted to say. Now that the heat had cleared, he remembered she’d said she was leaving for Nashville soon. The ping of unease the thought gave him was the same one he’d experienced when she’d first mentioned it.

He stopped at a red light, took in the glow of streetlights sparkling off Lily’s hair. Whatever this effect she was having on him, Garrett wasn’t sure how to interpret it. He easily imagined her right there, in the seat of his truck, as he took her out to dinner. Making conversation as they headed out of town for a road trip or simply went back to his place. There was a growing familiarity between them, at least on his end, the kind that said something deeper and more meaningful could easily follow. Underneath it all was that nagging sensation that he knew her from somewhere.

It didn’t sit well, this attraction to her. It was different...more complicated than anything he had experience with. Figuring it out—any of it—was the last thing he had time for. Seeing how she still wouldn’t look at him, Garrett figured Lily probably felt the same.

She got out of his truck with a wave when he pulled in next to her SUV at the Ashden building. Garrett waited until she’d started up the vehicle before pulling away. He licked his lips. Lily’s taste was still sweet on them. Kiss number two? He was going to forget all about it.

Starting tomorrow.

CHAPTER SEVEN

M
AYBE
SHE
WAS
seeing Katja’s ghost. Lily crossed her arms on her desk and rested her forehead on top of them with a yawn. What she was experiencing at night seemed to extend beyond a normal dream.

It always started out the same way: she and Katja surrounded by an orange glow as they ran down a hallway. And then Katja stopped, mouthed the words
go ahead,
turned around and ran back to her apartment. Lily reached for her—screamed her name and, in a blink, was lying on cold, wet grass.

She pushed herself up, saw the apartment engulfed in flames, and the sensation was always the same as it had been in real life. Terror, panic, the well of nausea and grief. But beyond the sickly realism of her dream memories, Lily was flooded with the feeling that she was missing something. That she needed to know
why....

She shouldn’t have kissed Garrett last night. Being with him always made the dreams worse, and the kiss they’d shared seemed to have launched her subconscious into overdrive. This morning was one of the worst she’d had.

She made it to noon before she was ready to burst. Luckily Doug was out all morning, so she could struggle with crunching numbers and prices for the Mateo project in peace and quiet.

And what a struggle it was. Her mind jerked between the thought that she should feel guilty over kissing Garrett but didn’t, and the guilt that arose because she didn’t feel guilty.

Each attempt to work the numbers now on the computer screen or plug information into the spreadsheet resulted in staring at the haphazard drawing Garrett had made of the empty lot. She’d placed it near her mouse pad and there it remained for no specific reason.

She should have thrown that thing away after she’d made the professional draft yesterday, but she couldn’t. The squiggly lines and circles and doodles were little more than chicken scratches. But each of those pen marks represented something profoundly important to Garrett, and they came to life on the paper as a design of the man he was beneath his fireman’s uniform.

He was determined, cared about other people, conscientious of the community’s needs and full of remarkable business intuition. He’d believed in her yesterday, believed that she could negotiate with Sylvia on his behalf. Maybe it had been a purely selfish move on his part—who was she kidding, it had been a purely selfish move on hers, too—but he’d still given her his trust, and she’d gotten the job done.

What had happened next had kept her sitting on the edge of her couch last night, elbows on her knees, staring off into space. The wickedness of Garrett’s kiss, the way he’d pressed her up against the truck in the middle of an open parking lot had been delicious.

She and Rob had never indulged in any public displays of affection. Always normal sex, in a bed, fast and convenient. And the warm, connected, wanted feeling she’d had in Garrett’s arms last night was something she hadn’t experienced with Rob for months leading up to his leaving. Those were the kinds of feelings a girl could get used to, that was for sure.

Just not with Garrett. He wasn’t the kind of man who stayed; he’d said it himself. Not that it mattered. She wasn’t looking for anyone to stay, and certainly not a man who reminded her of the pain of her past.

He was a fireman. Lily closed her eyes and sank into her office chair. It always came back to that. Even if she only took a few days with him, enjoyed him, his profession would always be there, hanging over her. Prodding her, pulling anger and resentment out of her subconscious.

Wouldn’t it?

A light rasp on her door frame made Lily jump. A deliveryman stood in the doorway with an amused expression, holding a vase of red roses. A ton of them.

“Ms. Ashden?”

Oh, my God.
She stood, her brow furrowing at the beauty—and number—of red roses arranged in a blue glass vase.

She waved the deliveryman in. He smiled and put the vase on her desk. “Have a great day,” he said before leaving.

Lily stared at the roses, eyeballing the white envelope peeking out of the blooms. Perfume filled the air, tugging at her heart and making her pulse pound. Thirty roses, no, thirty-one, all bloodred, all amazingly perfect.

She finally plucked out the envelope and opened it with an expectant smile...only to find it blank. No writing. Nothing. “What the...?”

She flipped the card over. On the back, a line was scribbled:

Didn’t know if I could speak yet or not. G.

She sank back into her chair with a disbelieving laugh. Roses once? She could accept that, even if an ulterior motive had been attached to them. But roses twice? Once again, Garrett had left his intentions up for interpretation.

Lily tapped a finger on her desk. What could he possibly be buttering her up for now? She glanced at the Mateo file, which lay open on her desk, and pulled her cell from her purse. No more surprises. If he wanted her to do something, he was going to have to ask. Lily dialed his number and studied the nuanced variations of crimson on each rose as it rang.

“Yeah?”

She wrinkled her nose. He sounded like she’d interrupted him. “Garrett?”

A rustling sound came through the line, and then the deep, clear tone of his voice.

“Lily. Sorry, I... How are you?”

She leaned back in her chair and looked at the ceiling. Now that she had him on the phone, words were harder to form than they had been in her head a few seconds ago. “Bad time?”

More rustling. “Not at all.”

She thought about how to start, then shrugged off her usual tendency to overthink. Might as well be blunt. “I’d say thank you, but I have to ask something so I know if I should feel grateful or irritated.”

“You got the flowers.” He sounded pleased with himself. Too pleased. She paused, waiting to see if he’d volunteer his motive, but he paused in return and the line filled with silence.

“I appreciate the gesture, Garrett, but I’d rather you just talk to me about what you need instead of trying to butter me up first.” Another small silence ensued, followed by a noncommittal sound coming from his end.

“I sent them as a thank-you for dealing with Sylvia last night.” A loud bang burst through the background, followed by his very hushed curse. “Sorry. Look, no ulterior motive this time. I promise. I really appreciate you helping me out last night. That’s all.”

Lily sat up in the chair and ran her fingers over the tops of the roses. He’d chosen well, but for some reason that didn’t surprise her.

“Oh. Well, then, thank you. I’ll let you go. You sound...busy.”

“Actually,” he said in a rush, “I know it’s Wednesday afternoon, but it’s my only day off for the next century and I was just about to head out of town for a ride, and I... Well, any chance you can take a couple hours off?”

The corner of her mouth hitched up despite her immediate reluctance. “I really can’t.” She wanted to mean the words, but they lacked credibility, even to her own ears. “I’m working on your proposal, actually.”

“Well, then, as the client, I say forget about my stuff for the rest of the day. There’s something I think you’d like to see, and believe it or not, it’s related to my project. Consider it field research.”

Lily swiveled in her chair to look out the window, her eyes catching Katja’s picture sitting on the bookshelf. That smile...those eyes. Lily actually winced, as if bracing herself for her sister’s image to morph from beautiful joy into an accusing stink eye. Of course, it didn’t.

“I...suppose...”

“Great. Are you at the office?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she replied absently, barely aware when he said he’d be there in a few and hung up.

Lily stood and turned away from the bookshelf. She should be able to see Garrett, both in and out of work, and it should be okay. He wasn’t just a firefighter, he was also a man. A regular man. One she liked spending time with. There shouldn’t be any guilt in this, but it was hard to know if she was just being too hard on herself, or if the feeling was justified. Macy seemed to think Lily was overthinking things, as usual, but her friend had never been through a loss like Lily had.

The front door slammed. She knew it was Doug even before he called out a gruff greeting and went into his office.

Maybe she needed the opinion of someone who could relate. How would someone else react in her position? What if Lincoln found himself attracted to a female firefighter? Would he have the same mixed feelings as Lily did? Granted, Lily figured Lincoln didn’t have nightmares like she did—he hadn’t almost died in the flames as she had—but he might have perspective that would help. She retrieved her phone and dialed her brother, knowing by the third ring that he wasn’t going to pick up. It went to voice mail just as she hung up.

Antsy for some sort of an opinion, Lily walked to Doug’s office. She’d probably have better luck torturing a navy SEAL for classified information than getting any kind of advice from her dad, but it was worth a shot.

“Hey, question for you.”

Doug didn’t look up from sorting mail. “No, you can’t have a puppy.”

His eyes crinkled with a smile. Lily leaned against the door frame, curious and a bit shocked over his light mood.

“I haven’t wanted a puppy since the Mutt Incident in fifth grade.” That comment actually drew a laugh from Doug, making his broad shoulders move just slightly.

“Right. When Katja brought that mess of a stray dog home and it ate the heads off your Beanie Babies and peed on your art project.” To this day, Lily wasn’t convinced the thing Katja had brought home really had been a dog. Devil’s spawn, sure, because there had been nothing cuddly or cute about that mangy animal. Katja had been convinced all that the puppy needed was someone to love it; Doug and Lily had resolved someone else could tackle that improbable task as they’d dropped it off at the pound. Katja had sulked, and Lily had realized she was a cat person.

Doug looked up and caught her eye, and for a moment, something passed between them. The connection of a shared memory. This was the closest they’d come to talking about Katja since her death. But in a blink it was over. Doug sat back, a scowl replacing the almost smile.

“What was your question?”

Lily crossed her arms over her middle. “Let’s say we’d really loved that puppy Katja brought home, and we took it to the vet, and he gave it, I don’t know, the wrong medicine and killed it.” Doug looked at her as if she was nuts. “And a while later, you meet an attractive woman who also happens to be a vet, but not the vet that killed your puppy. She reminds you of your dead dog, but you still—”

“Lily, I wouldn’t have felt sad a minute if a vet had killed that puppy.”

“Stay focused, Doug.” She strode to his desk, absently picked up an envelope and flipped it over. “You’re attracted to her, even though she reminds you of that damn dog. What do you do?”

Doug leaned back in his chair, a pencil tapping his lower lip. After a second, he waved the pencil before dropping it on his desk.

“I hated that dog, so I can’t help with your scenario.”

Lily didn’t know if she should laugh or strangle him. She should have known better than to approach him with this, even hypothetically. “Oh, my God, Doug.”

“I say you be honest with the vet. Talk about the dog. Don’t shut her out, and see where it goes.”

Lily spun around at the familiar voice, glancing up to see Garrett’s brilliant smile. Her pulse sounded in her ears as she momentarily forgot how to breathe. His long, broad body was in well-worn jeans and a heather-gray T-shirt. A white ball cap was pulled low over his forehead with curling tips of his blond hair peeking out. He stood a couple of feet behind her in the foyer, his hands in his pockets.

“H-hey,” she finally managed as she straightened and smoothed the back of her hair. Oh, God, he’d heard what she’d been saying. If he had any inclination that she’d been talking about him, his expression didn’t betray it.

Doug came to stand beside her at the door, his presence shaking her from her stupor.

“Doug, I’d like you to meet Garrett Mateo. From the Throwing Aces.” She emphasized the bar’s name, hoping it would put off the grand inquisition. Garrett immediately removed his hat and held a hand out.

“Garrett, my father, Doug Ashden.” Her father’s eyebrows flicked up as he shook Garrett’s hand maybe just a touch too long.

“Good to meet you.” If Doug’s steely stare affected Garrett at all, he didn’t show it. “You the Garrett who sent Lily the flowers?”

Lily’s mouth dropped open, but Garrett just looked proud of himself.

“Yes, sir.” That was it. No explanation. She was slightly impressed that Garrett didn’t feel the need to clarify his reasons.

“Mmm.” Doug cleared his throat and looked at Lily. “How’s his proposal coming along?”

She and Doug had discussed the Mateo project just once since her first meeting with Garrett. Since then, he’d given her free rein to take care of it herself. “It’s going fine.”

Garrett slipped his ball cap back on. “It’s going exceptionally well. Should we get going, Lily?”

Oh, he was smooth. Sliding his way out from having to stand there and make any more awkward small talk with Doug. Lily moved away from her father’s office door and his questioning look. She grabbed her purse from her office before joining Garrett.

“I’ll be out the rest of the day, Doug. See you in the morning.” She didn’t give Doug an opportunity to start pressing as she headed for the door.

Garrett held the front door for her, his eyes settling on her lower half long enough to make her skin heat up. When they stepped out into the sunshine, she glanced down at her knee-length hemp skirt and sandals to see what he was staring at.

“What?”

He shrugged. “That’ll work.”

“For what?” she asked.

“Straddling me.” He pointed to his big black truck parked at the curb. A four-wheeler sat in the back. “Straddling the Yamaha,
behind me,
while I drive, I suppose. Or just me, whichever you prefer.”

Lily bit her bottom lip. She never had cause to ride an ATV before and wasn’t sure she liked the idea of it now. Especially since what Garrett teased about was completely true. She
would
be straddling him...her thighs wrapped around his hips, her hands hanging on to his tight middle. This would be great, just great, for her resolve to keep it professional.

Other books

The Opposite of Nothing by Slade, Shari
I Wish... by Wren Emerson
Letters to Penthouse XXII by Penthouse International
A School for Brides by Patrice Kindl
A Man Without a Country by Kurt Vonnegut
Master of the House by Justine Elyot
Harry Truman vs the Aliens by Emerson LaSalle