The Firefighter's Appeal (Harlequin Superromance) (6 page)

“Noon.” A slow grin made a dimple dig deeply into his left cheek, as if he was mulling over a dirty little secret. “There’s more you need to see, but I can’t show you in the dark.”

Despite herself, Lily smiled before she dipped her head and tried to move past him. Immediate warmth wrapped around her, followed by the heady scent of spicy bergamot and sage. Her right shoulder brushed against him, sending sparks through her entire body. Before she could withdraw, Garrett scooped her elbow in one hand and turned her. Her back pressed against the door frame opposite him so they faced each other, his heat washing over her. Jacking up her blood pressure. Sending her pulse skyrocketing.

When was the last time she’d had such a spirited reaction to a man? Even her ex-fiancé hadn’t affected her this way. When Garrett had tempted her with his inviting gaze across the bar last week, something had felt different. The way her heart had jumped in her throat after battling a minefield of nerves had been different. The way her skin had flushed at the sound of his voice...it had all been different.

Nonetheless, she couldn’t read anything into her body’s reaction. The dreams that had resurfaced since the night of the fund-raiser were enough to set her back. All those firemen had triggered the anxiety she was trying to overcome, and Lily wasn’t going to risk going down that road again.

Despite her resolve, her gaze flicked to his lips. They were model perfect, soft yet undeniably male. The kind of lips that could kiss you tenderly good-night or grind you to aneurysm-worthy pleasure.

She squeezed her eyes shut and sidled to the left. The space was narrow, causing her chest to bump his, making her gasp and stiffen. He dipped his head, his hair tickling her temple as his gravelly voice filled her ears.

“Are you a vegetarian, Lily?” His expression was a tease and a dare rolled into one sexy smolder as he shifted to let her out of the office.

“Yes.”

Garrett paused before replying with a light chuckle. “Seriously? I was expecting you to say no. Either way, plan on staying a bit tomorrow.”

Lily pulled in a slow breath. There would be no staying. She was inspecting property lines, not—

“I’m the client, remember?” he said. She must be wearing her reluctance like a perfume. “Indulge me a little. Please?”

“The client.” Her voice trailed off before her brain broke free of its sexy-Garrett stranglehold. “Of course. However—”

There was loud thump from the room next door, followed by a long muffled groan. Both of them looked at the wall, as if they could see what was happening on the other side. From the sound, it was obvious Roan had fallen off the couch.

They turned back to look at each other, and Lily didn’t miss Garrett’s eye roll and sigh. He ran a hand over his face and was suddenly transformed into a man who looked as if he could sleep for a week. It was as though he’d taken off a mask, reducing him from cocky, confident Garrett to someone with a lot of weight on his shoulders.

“I’m going to check on Roan.” He thrust a hand out. Lily took it for a firm shake, interest in his transformation niggling at her. It shouldn’t matter, but it piqued her even so because in that moment he wasn’t a hotshot fireman. He was just a man who radiated hidden sadness and deep responsibility.

And that rubbed her both ways: wrong and right. Wrong because she didn’t have time to care what was going on under Garrett’s surface, and right because she’d be a complete bitch not to at least wonder.

Their hands parted more slowly than she would have liked, prompting Lily to make a half turn toward the hall and her exit.

“I’ll clear my schedule and meet you here at noon.”

“Okay.” He followed her down the hall until he stopped at the employee lounge. “Oh, and, Lily?”

She didn’t look back. If she did, he’d see how badly she was trembling. “Yes?”

“I’m not opposed to you wearing that coconut bra again.”

His voice was lighter, and the sound made her pause and look back. His weariness was gone and the usual confident charm had returned. His cocky grin seemed a bit out of place, as if it was a mask he hadn’t quite gotten to fit right. True colors? It was hard to tell which were really his. Not that she’d be finding out.

Lily turned back to the exit without a reply. The last thing she needed was to try to figure out a complicated man. She just wanted to secure this job, pack her bags and get the heck out of Danbury.

* * *

“T
HREE
WEEKS
?” L
ILY
slid to the edge of her bed, taking the comforter with her until it bunched against her butt. She held the phone away from her ear, stared at it a moment to be sure she wasn’t still asleep.

Doug’s gruff voice floating through the receiver made it clear she was awake.

“It’s what you wanted, right?”

The blanket—and Adam the cat, who Lily hadn’t noticed—landed on the floor when she abruptly stood, excitement prickling her skin. Hell, yes, this was what she wanted. She just wasn’t expecting to have it so soon.

“Lincoln’s having an open house in the showroom and he could really use you there. That way you can check it out, see the sights—see if moving to Nashville is what you really want. Linc’s getting too busy with the construction end. Thankfully, he’s doing better than we are, but he could use some help.”

The Ashden Construction and Design office in Nashville wasn’t just an office, it was a showroom. Junk artists, master furniture builders, concrete and textile artists all had work on display. Lincoln managed both the construction business and the showroom, but he’d been trying to dump responsibility for the showroom for the past couple of years.

Lily wasn’t much of a crafter herself, but helping others support a career doing just that was close enough. The poetry of artisan construction elements had always fascinated her—bathroom sinks made from decorative concrete, mosaic tabletops, hand-carved finials and molding created by loving hands were as beautiful as stunning architecture. Managing the showroom would be a dream come true, especially since Lincoln was talking about starting an architectural salvage yard. Instead of watching reruns of
American Pickers,
she could be living it.

Her father had been reluctant to approve Lily’s request to transfer there—always citing that he needed her in Danbury more than she was needed in Nashville. Lily knew that her father played on her guilt over leaving him alone, so she stayed. Until recently, she hadn’t felt completely ready to move on, but the loneliness of her days and nights made her realize now was the perfect time.

The sound of swallowing came through the receiver. Scalding coffee, she suspected, black and strong enough to disembowel a T. rex.

“Linc’s excited that you’re coming, Lil. He wants you to give him a call when you can.”

Lily paced her small bedroom, barely feeling the scratchy carpet that usually irritated her bare feet. Leaving her father alone with no family in Kansas seemed cruel. But Doug seemed to be managing, as far as she could tell. Maybe he was ready for her to go.

He’d never said either way, because they never talked about how their relationship had changed since Katja had died, or about the tension between them. Knowing Doug, he never would. She’d tried so many times to get him to talk, to no avail. It was just easier to give up trying and keep her emotions bottled up.

“We need to talk this through a little more, Doug. I mean, if I do decide to move there, who will replace me in the office?”

She’d decided a long time ago that moving to Nashville was a no-brainer, and before she and Katja had decided to open a salvage yard in Danbury, she’d been ready to go. It was Nashville, for crying out loud. The nightlife. The shopping. The men. Guilt was the only thing holding her back now, and Lily was starting to see that was an obstacle she could skirt around.

“How’d it go last night? You didn’t text me like I asked.”

She sighed heavily at Doug’s deflection, but it didn’t dampen her excitement. The chance to meet new people, make new friends. Maybe find someone...who wasn’t Garrett. The thought prompted her to grab the alarm clock from her nightstand to check the time. Eleven o’clock. She’d tossed and turned last night, finally waking up after another nightmare only to spend hours staring at the wall.

“Doug, I have to go. Talk to you soon, okay?”

He hung up without a proper response, as usual, leaving Lily to rush through a shower with no time to dry her hair. A flowing, lacy top from her favorite store, Magnolia Pearl, and slim, well-worn jeans did the trick. She slicked on a touch of red lipstick on the way out the door.

Lily was still on an endorphin high when she pulled into the Throwing Aces. It was great to have something to focus on, something that helped drown out the reality that the first anniversary of her sister’s death was fast approaching. She’d been thinking about that a lot lately, wondering how she’d handle it—whether Doug would acknowledge it or ignore it. For once, Lily hoped he’d face the tragedy they’d been through, maybe talk about it—
something.

Lily pushed her thoughts away as she tried the front door, frowning when she found the lobby completely dark. The building was eerily quiet and a little calming in its emptiness. She wandered through the main room of shadowy tables with upturned chairs, drawn to a soft glow coming from behind the bar.

Her excitement started to fade and apprehension about being alone in the deserted bar with Garrett crept in. She frowned. There was no reason to feel nervous.
Sheesh.
It was a business meeting, not a date.

“Hello?” Lily paused at the bar, running her fingers along the silky wood as she moved toward the door that led to the back. The door was slightly ajar, letting a sliver of light through. Then it suddenly swung open, startling her and revealing a smiling Garrett, wiping his hands on a towel. Lily jerked back, nearly dropping her canvas workbag. The impact of Garrett’s smile was nearly as intoxicating as the savory scent wafting out from the kitchen.

“Hello yourself.” He whipped the towel over his shoulder.

Her lips did that tingly thing so she clamped them to make it stop. It didn’t help. “Mind if we turn on some lights?”

He nodded and moved behind the bar. Two clicks later and the place was flooded with light. “There you go.”

Lily placed her bag on the bar and leaned against it. The smell filling her senses was incredible, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten yet.

“What are you cooking?” She looked up, her words trailing off as Garrett went through the swinging door and disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned, he had a steaming coffee mug in each hand.

“Freshly ground, black, and of the thought that weak coffee is for weakhearted losers, which clearly you are not. Did I get it right?”

A slow grin tugged at her mouth as she accepted a mug. He was delicious and adorable. And a mind reader. And completely correct.
Off-limits.

“Yes. Thank you.”

Garrett leaned a hip on the bar and gripped his mug in both hands. She looked away, then was compelled to turn back again. The appreciative smile on his lips warmed her to her toes.

“To answer your question, you’ll just have to wait and see.”

The tanned perfection of his face made her brain dance in a slow fog, prompting her to forget what she’d asked. Luckily it came rushing back before she made a fool of herself. She leaned back against the bar and took a small sip from her mug.

“I forgot something. Excuse me a sec?”

Garrett set his mug down and went back through the kitchen door. Lily took out a notepad, pen and tape measure from her bag, trying to keep her hands busy.

Being nervous was ridiculous. Maybe it wasn’t so much a case of nerves as it was a sense of shyness from being with a man she’d kissed and then run away from, and the knee-jerk distaste that welled up in her when she remembered that Garrett was a fireman.

Irritated with her train of thought, Lily reached for her mug, and her elbow pushed her nearly empty bag off the bar and onto the floor on the other side.

“Dammit,” she muttered, moving to the end of the bar and going inside to where the bag lay. Lily reached for it, her eyes drawn to Garrett’s name written on the side of an ice-cream tub. It was filled with pieces of paper, some folded, some not. It only took a second to recognize that the slips contained phone numbers and women’s names. A few lay open on the very top—one from Stacy, another from Ivy and one that just said “Call me.”

Lily scoffed as she straightened and smoothed the front of her shirt with one hand.
Typical.
He’d asked for her phone number, too, hadn’t he?

Seemed her instincts had been dead-on. Garrett was right up there on the playboy firefighter list. If her discomfort because of her sister weren’t enough, getting tangled up with another player after being dumped by her fiancé would have been the nail in the coffin. Walking away from Garrett the other night was the smartest thing she could have done—aside from never kissing him in the first place.

She slung the bag strap over her shoulder as a sound to her right drew her attention. Garrett stood there, sliding his mug over the bar surface, an intensely curious look on his face.

“Lily?”

“I dropped my bag,” she explained, wondering if he’d seen her looking at the bucket o’ numbers. If he had, he didn’t let on.

“Should we get started?” He motioned for her to come back around the bar with a sweep of his arm, reminding Lily that she was still standing there.
Yes. Please.
She followed, deposited the bag and grabbed her notebook, holding it to her chest. As if that would do anything to calm the nerves that seemed worse than ever.

It didn’t.

* * *

I
T
WAS
A
beautiful late morning, and despite only a few hours’ sleep last night, Garrett was refreshed and pumped with energy. Maybe it was the plan in his head or having Lily by his side. He didn’t know—didn’t care.

He sneaked another look at how the lacy top clung to her feminine shape, outlining her full breasts and narrow ribs and flaring prettily over the top of her hips. Her arms were bare; the tattoo on her right arm was an eye-catching work of art as the sun highlighted the many colors. He led her out back to the empty parcel, glaring once at the realty sign.