The Firefighter's Appeal (Harlequin Superromance) (15 page)

“Fly for me, Lily.”

She dug her nails into his shoulder. “Not without you.”

He groaned against her lips, his fingers increasing their wicked assault. Despite herself, Lily felt the sweet edge getting closer. She longed for it—chased after it in her mind—begged for it.

Garrett wanted her to let go—wanted to absorb every nuance of expression on her face as he helped her get there. He cupped her breast, brought his mouth to it while increasing the pressure and speed of his touch. Her body arched and then went still.

And then she let go with a cry that snared him, pulled him in and threatened to drown him in its beauty. His heart swelled. He brought them together, chest to chest, held her while the pound of her heart thumped against him. But Lily was having none of it. She squirmed against him, her lips finding his neck, her fingers digging into his back.

“Please, Garrett...” He was sliding his jeans down before the plea left her lips—fished a condom from his wallet before throwing the jeans to the floor. Her eyes swept him up and down, settled on his groin.

“Oh, my.” Her hand reached for him, closed around his length and made a full sweep from base to tip. He nearly lost it and pulled away before she could do it again. Too many weeks, months, days had gone by since his last time, and there was no way he wanted this to end too quickly.

He settled the condom in place and gathered Lily against him again, tilting her hips as he lowered himself. Her eyes were wide with anticipation, the clench of her jaw at his slow entry, encouraging and so damn arousing. Her body was snug and hot, taking him in with a race of pleasure he felt clear to the bottom of his spine. Lily muttered a soft, passionate expletive against his ear as he filled her, then held still so he could absorb the sweetness of this first connection.

Need quickly took over his intention to take it slow, driving him to move—harder, faster, each tilt of Lily’s hips and moan from her lips encouraging him. His fingers found her tender nub, pressed it firmly while he thrust. She squirmed, uttered a protest before sinking into the aftershocks he knew his touch caused.

It didn’t take long. Garrett smiled as he rested his forehead against hers. Lily’s body tightened around him as she released again, urging him to follow until they both melted into a tangle.

Garrett rolled onto his side and pulled Lily against him. Her hair tickled his chest as her fingers lazily caressed his ribs. He blanked out for a while, time having no meaning except for the fullness inside him—the satisfaction that settled into his consciousness. It wasn’t just the fulfillment of sex, it was something...else.

“Garrett.” Lily’s soft voice drew him out. He snuggled her closer and kissed the top of her head, wishing he could hang on to this feeling of—whatever it was.

“Yeah?”

“Just...
wow.
” Her voice was light and filled with amusement. Garrett chuckled, reveling in the relaxed set of her body and how well she fit against him.

“Agreed.” He could sink into sleep like this, no problem. Staying the night would be a first for him, but so was whatever was going on between him and Lily. He’d never been so interested and invested in a woman before. Not in the way that made him want to know all her secrets and her plans, how her day had been, when he could see her again.

They lay there, silent, his fingers moving up and down her arm, until Lily’s breathing settled into a slow, even rhythm. In another minute or two, she’d be sound asleep and he’d be right behind her. But as much as he loved the idea of staying just like this, he had to work early in the morning. Besides, there was no sense getting too comfy. It wouldn’t be good for either of them.

He trailed a finger down her tattoo and traced the delicate metal loop bracelet on her wrist. Garrett brought her wrist up to his view more to keep himself awake than anything. Three thin leather cords intertwined with copper and silver wire.

“That’s an interesting bracelet.”

She half opened sleepy eyes. “It was Katja’s—my sister’s. She found it at a junk sale in Texas.”

Garrett wasn’t sure if she was completely awake and smiled at how adorable she looked curled into him.
Katja.
The name rolled around in his head, unusual but with a pang of familiarity.

“Pretty name.”

“She was a pretty girl.”

Was.

Lily’s eyes opened as color swept her cheeks. She blinked a couple of times, her mouth pulled into a line.

The familiarity of the name nagged at him, but Garrett couldn’t recall where he’d heard it before.
Katja Ashden?
He’d remember that, he was pretty sure.

Lily ran a hand over his chest, the warmth of her palm a sensual comfort against his bare skin. He looked sideways to the window and the inky blackness outside. It was only nine, but he had to get ready for tomorrow and keep himself from getting any more comfortable than he already was in Lily’s bed.

He kissed her temple and sat up. “I’d better get going.”

He moved from the bed to the adjoining bathroom. When he came back out, Lily had turned on the bedside lamp and had slipped into a long T-shirt, her messy hair pulled over one shoulder. He was a little afraid of seeing regret on her face, but her eyes were soft. The flush on her pale skin was a beautiful by-product of what they’d shared. He dressed as she watched him—was tempted more than once to forget the clothes and dive back under the covers. He didn’t want it to end, and the way she watched him, Lily didn’t seem to want that, either.

Despite his contentment, something nagged at him—something forgotten that wanted to be remembered. Garrett shook it off as Lily walked him to the door. They hadn’t said much, and, honestly, he didn’t know what to say. Words didn’t really seem to be necessary anyway. She reached up and kissed him, a soft press of her lips that quickly turned into something else. Garrett finally leaned away and swept a thumb over her lips. Any more of that and he wouldn’t be going home.

“Good night,” he said as he opened the door.

“Good night.” She smiled softly as he walked out, then closed the door with a
click
that resonated in his head.

The drive back to his place seemed to take forever as his mind ran through the sweetness of this day. He stopped at a red light a block from the Ashden building. A flash of an image played in his mind. A black-and-white photograph—like an image printed in the newspaper. He rubbed his eyes but the image popped in again, clearer this time. That sensation of déjà vu came back with a bang.

A newspaper. An obituary.

Not Ashden. Olson...Oder. Yoder.
Ober.

His stomach bottomed out.
Katja Ober.
A flashback of the same picture in Lily’s office—daughter of Douglas and the late Greta Ober. Leaving behind a sister, brother and father.

Oh.

Shit.

A horn blared behind him. Garrett’s eyes flew to the rearview mirror, barely processing the cars behind him as his head swam. He shook his head, snapped back to the stoplight. It was green. He dragged his attention back to the street and passed the light, wiping a hand over his face to try to clear his mind.

Katja Ober hadn’t died in Danbury, but he’d been there anyway. She’d lived in an apartment complex in Barron, the next town over.

When the complex caught fire, the Barron Fire Department had tried fighting it alone. But it quickly got out of hand and two other departments had been called in for mutual aid, Danbury among them.

By the time they’d gotten there, the building was beyond saving. Back draft had made the flames too dangerous for the firemen to fight from the inside, and people had still been trapped; the heat had risen to well beyond what the firemen’s turnout gear could handle.

It had been one of those no-win situations. The fire had spread in the middle of the night, leaving people confused and scrambling to find a way out. With all the flammable things inside a complex that size, the fire had a million sources to feed from, and it had grown well beyond what one department could handle.

Nobody won that day. The fire had beaten them and changed Lily’s life forever.

God, he had to tell her. She’d probably recoil and he’d lose even these last days with her. Blame him on principle. The thought panicked him. He couldn’t risk that—she was leaving Danbury soon and he didn’t want her to walk away despising him. Hell, he didn’t want her to walk away at all, but since he had to let her go, it should at least be with sweet memories.

Not with ashes raining down on what they’d shared.

Garrett pulled in next to his apartment and sat gripping the wheel. He’d be on at the department for the next three days, plenty of time to think of the best way to tell her. Three days without seeing her.

It sucked, but he could deal with it because it would give him time to figure out how to lie if he had to.

CHAPTER NINE

M
ACY
WASN
’
T
GOING
to let up an inch. Lily rolled her eyes and tried to change the subject, but there was no deterring her friend’s single-minded determination to wring out every piece of dirt on Garrett Mateo that she could.

The junk fair in Yoker was as packed as Lily had ever seen it, and she’d been coming for the past six years, give or take. It was a combination of antiques, handmade wares, architectural salvage and flea-market goods that promised lots of bartering from vendors with, to put it politely, interesting personalities. She’d already bargained down the price of a vintage handbag from a seller with no front teeth and a beaver skull glued to his felt hat, and was pretty exhilarated that the one-eyed dog standing guard under the table hadn’t bitten her leg off in the process.

She turned the patent black Lucille de Paris handbag back and forth in front of her, marveling at the excellent condition of the leather while Macy pouted like a three-year-old.

“Lily. Ashden. I want to know
all about
the sex.” Macy tipped her head back and groaned her impatience, floppy curls spiraling every which way. “Come ooon. Spill.”

The sex. How did she begin to describe it when she couldn’t even fully rationalize it to herself? Saying it was the best experience she’d ever had seemed cliché, even if it was the truth. Spending time with Garrett did something for her, gave her something she needed. Nourished her, almost. The art in the trees, holding his hand, talking about heavy glasses and realizing he was right about that, the intimacy. Trying to explain it to Macy would be pretty difficult, since Lily didn’t completely understand all the subtleties herself.

“Your hair is very cute today,” Lily said with a grin.

Macy hit her in the arm hard enough to make her nearly drop her bag. “All right,” Lily relented. “The sex was awesome. Now will you stop?”

Macy looped her arm through Lily’s and led her down the dirt aisle between vendor booths. “That is not a description. My last oil change was awesome. Your maw-maw’s purple hair was awesome. Okay, not really, but you get my point.”

Lily’s heart flipped when they passed a booth with turn-of-the-century hardware. Light switch covers, door hinges and knobs. A pair of pink plaster rosettes sat on a foam display board next to another set hand carved from oak. She ran her fingers over the wood, amazed by the fine detail of each line and curve.

“Really, since you’re leaving me for Nashville and all, the least you could do is—”

“Macy.” Lily sighed.

Her eyes were drawn to the table and a little wooden box filled with antique skeleton keys. She thought of the wind chime hanging from the sapling near the Pit. Lily rifled through the keys, marveling at their different widths—some wide, some narrow—and lengths. Each had a different pattern on the thumb hold. Considering the amazing chime Bodie had already made with skeleton keys, there was no telling what he might do with more. Garrett had texted her earlier to see if she wanted to stop by the Throwing Aces tonight since he was off shift at the firehouse. She could drop the keys off with Garrett to give to Bodie.

“How much?” She picked the box up and waved it at the woman behind the table.

The woman spat on the ground, her bottom lip stuffed full of chewing tobacco. She was knitting something, didn’t bother to look up. “Not for sale.”

Lily smiled at Macy, dug a ten-dollar bill from her pocket and held it out. There had to be thirty keys in that narrow box. She knew she was pressing her luck, but she had to start somewhere. The woman made no acknowledgment.

“Are you blind?” Lily asked sweetly, knowing how this game was played. The thrill, and fun, of the barter was half the excitement of coming to junk fairs like this. There were a couple of good ones she liked to travel to in the tristate area, and she couldn’t wait to see what she’d find in Nashville.

“Maybe,” the woman replied, looping yarn over her knitting needle. “Or maybe I just don’t see anything worth my time.” Lily shook her head and added another ten. No response. She added one more. The old woman waved a hand in front of her own face.

“My vision...it’s starting to come back to me.” Macy giggled as Lily added another ten-dollar bill. The woman snatched the bills from Lily’s hand with a grunt.

“Well done. I’m cured. Enjoy.”

Lily tucked the heavy box into her canvas market bag. She didn’t know Bodie, but his story was inspiring and she couldn’t wait to ask Garrett for a chance to meet with him and talk about his art.

She could already visualize his wind chimes decorating people’s front doors, his gazing balls adding that missing touch to backyards. She could give him the chance to offer people his beautiful things via the shop in Nashville.

Or by opening one in the shoe factory. The idea hadn’t left since Lincoln had planted it in her mind with his drawing. She’d poked around a little by calling Sylvia Frasier’s office to find out what the asking price was. There was an open house happening this weekend, and, encouraged by the reasonable price, Lily decided her next stop today would be a browse around the building.

Lily relished the wealth of possibilities. She had options. For the first time in a very long time, she had a choice, and with a bit of determination, she could make a place for herself no matter what she chose.

“What are you going to do with all those keys?” Macy tucked a curl back and glanced over her shoulder.

“Give them to someone special.”

Macy was looking behind her, her lips pressed together. Lily looked, too, not seeing anyone familiar. “What are you looking at?”

Macy’s grip on Lily’s arm tightened. “I think I just saw Devon.” Lily moved to look behind them again, but Macy stopped her. “Let’s just go, okay?”

Adrenaline ticked through her blood, making Lily suddenly jittery and hyperaware. She’d never cared for Devon, and this crap he was pulling was simultaneously pissing her off and creeping her out. She could only imagine what Macy was going through.

“Time for a restraining order?”

Macy made a
pfft
sound and shook her head.

“Do those things ever do any good?”

Lily pulled Macy closer until their shoulders bumped. “I mean it. I’m worried about you.”

They wove their way through the crowd and to the parking lot. Macy’s phone rang, making both women look at each other. Macy just shook her head and kept walking.

“I’m not even sure it was him that I saw,” she said. “Maybe I’m just paranoid. Either way, he was accepted to Missouri State to finish his degree. He’ll be leaving anytime now.”

It didn’t sit well with Lily, but Macy looked determined to dismiss it. “Fine, but you’re coming to the shoe factory for the tour with me.”

Macy made a face. “Why would you want to tour that old pile of bricks?”

Lily laughed, her excitement over possibilities flamed with the chance to talk about it. She clicked the remote unlock to her SUV as they approached and gave Macy a wink.

“Well, my dear, you may be sorry that you asked.”

* * *

G
ARRETT
BLINKED
AGAINST
what felt like sand in his eyes and poured a fourth cup of strong coffee. He’d pulled his last shift at the firehouse, and it had gone out with a bang in the wee hours of morning.

A resident at the nursing home had thought it would be great fun to pull the fire alarm, not once, not twice, but three separate times before he finally let the nurse give him a sleeping pill. Geriatric joke or not, Garrett and his team had gone each time to check it out—couldn’t be too careful—and Garrett had ended up sitting and chatting with Mr. Bentley until his nighty-night pill kicked in around six in the morning.

Garrett had made a half-ass attempt to reprimand the old man for pulling the alarm, but he’d let it drop. He’d been the one to get an earful instead, learning about the car dealership Mr. Bentley had run for over half his life, how only twelve of his twenty-nine grandkids ever came to visit him and how his wife of sixty-one years, Minnie, had died last year from heart failure.

The unmasked sadness in Mr. Bentley’s voice when he spoke about his wife had riveted Garrett to his chair with gentle hands. There was something special about sharing the ups and downs of the human experience with a man who’d lived a long life, seen tons and loved well. The quiet sadness in the old man’s voice when he spoke about Minnie was layered with the sweet affection that came from remembering someone special.

“She put up with me, raised eleven children and put up with me.” The old man’s heavily lidded eyes brightened with a chuckle as he poked fun at himself. “She had a damn fine heart. Even a heart that good needs a rest, don’t ya think?”

Garrett had agreed with that and Mr. Bentley had worried his gnarled fingers together. “She’d better rest up good, ’cause I’ll be there soon to get that ticker of hers going again.”

Garrett had pondered those words as he left the nursing home. His parents had been happy together. In fact, he couldn’t recall a time when they weren’t. Even when they’d argued, it didn’t take long to blow over. Teddy Mateo had first wooed his wife when she’d come to his beach on spring break. He’d continued to woo her with the beauty of the land, soothing whatever disagreement they’d had or boredom she might feel by taking her to the islands. She’d finished her teaching degree at the University of Honolulu and made Hawaii her home, teaching fourth grade while raising three kids and helping run the family hotel. They’d been a close unit, Mom and Dad, him and Cash and Sawyer.

And then Teddy had fallen through the roof of a factory engulfed in flames. The devastation that ripped through his family after that had occurred with a powerful force Garrett would never forget. And it was something he’d never put a family of his own through. Damn fine hearts and sixty-one-year marriages were for some people, but not for him. If he didn’t get too involved with a woman, he kept her safe from loving him, safe from worrying about him, safe from being left alone if he died. And he kept himself safe from suffering if fate reversed its hand and took his family away from him.

Making love to Lily went against that idea, but there wasn’t one second he’d spent with her that he could feel guilty about. The memory of her sweet body, the supple, curvaceous feel of her under his hands, was slow to fade. In fact, he hadn’t forgotten a moment of it; he could still taste her mouth and hear the cadence of her moans and sighs as he buried himself inside her. The wonderment on her face when she saw the metal art and the joy of having her pressed against him as he took her on her first ATV ride—these were supposed to be casual things. Things that would have never mattered with another of his onetime flings. He’d never cared before, but each experience he shared with Lily was important to him.

She’d captivated him. It would be easy to let their intimacy tumble into something more. He wanted more of her. Underneath her skittish exterior was a woman who could last sixty-one years with a man, and then some. She was just tough enough to put a man in his place and soft enough to keep him coming back for more. Whoever had let her go was a fool, and whoever caught her heart for keeps would be one lucky son of a bitch.

Now that he’d remembered who her sister had been, Garrett was even more certain that letting his mind wander to a lifetime with Lily was the worst possible torture he could give himself. Not that it mattered; she’d made it clear that she wasn’t interested in a relationship with him. But when she found out...
God.
He’d asked her to stop by tonight because he was going to tell her. He had to.

“The hell, man, you look terrible!” Mikey wandered up to the bar and sat on a stool next to Garrett.

It was four o’clock. The bar had opened a half hour ago, but patrons were slow to filter in. Not a problem as far as Garrett was concerned. He had a full staff of bartenders tonight, so he could nurse his coffee until a problem arose or he succumbed to exhaustion—whichever came first.

He wanted to retort, but his tired brain wouldn’t cooperate, so Garrett flipped his friend off instead. Mikey slapped him on the back and waved for a Coke. Garrett shook his head as Mikey’s long brown hair flopped into his eyes. “I’m going to get some chick to braid your hair and make you look all pretty.”

Mikey raked the hair back with one hand and smirked. “I’m already gorgeous. But I’m not opposed to you finding me a chick. Preferably before my fire shift starts tonight.”

“Fix your own dry spell, jackass.”

Garrett waved down the bartender to refill his coffee. Mikey wasn’t a frequent flyer in the one-nighter club. Every woman Garrett had known him to go out with had been a permanent fixture in Mikey’s life for a while. After his brother, Bodie, had come home from war, Mikey had stepped in as a part-time caregiver, sharing the responsibility with his sister. Between that, working for the fire department and working construction on the side, Mikey had been single a lot longer than he’d been attached.

“Speaking of a dry spell—” Mikey knocked Garrett’s shoulder with his own “—what ever happened with tattoo chick?”

Garrett tapped a finger against the handle of his mug as he gathered his thoughts. “Remember the fire in Barron last year? That apartment building that lit up?”

“I burned my ass when the embers got in that rip in my turnouts, remember? I still have a scar.”

“Jesus, Mike.” Garrett chuckled despite the seriousness in his heart. “People died in that fire.”

Mikey gave a somber, respectful nod. Garrett turned sideways on his stool, fixed his eyes on Mikey’s.

“Hot tattoo girl has a name—Lily Ashden.” Mikey’s eyes went round and amused, obviously not seeing the connection. “Her sister, Katja Ober, was one of those people...and she has a serious issue with firemen.”

“Damn. You didn’t tell her you’re a fireman?”

“She knew.”

“But...”

“She doesn’t know I was working the fire that killed her sister.”

Fifty men had been on scene, doing everything possible to contain the fire and get the trapped victims out. When everything possible turned into nothing working, they’d been called off and had stood watching helplessly as the fire had consumed everything and everyone left behind.