Trial by Fire (7 page)

Which was why he wanted to share this afternoon with Kat. If she’d lived in Sugarland for long, she’d probably visited the park by the Cheatham Dam. Most people had, at one time or another. But not on a day like this.
And not with me.

The trees opened to clear sky, the road ending at the Cumberland River straight ahead. This particular stretch had been a public park for as long as Howard could recall. To the right, a small beach area provided kids and adults a place to play in the sand and water. A half mile farther was the dam and the lock, which visitors were no longer allowed to walk on and marvel at up close, thanks to terrorist precautions.

To the left and slightly behind them was the parking lot at the base of a hill, near the head of several hiking trails. Beyond that, a grassy area next to the river boasted a few picnic tables, most of them occupied. Frowning, he steered the bike toward the parking area. Of course there’d be a gazillion other people enjoying a nice Sunday, complete with a horde of screeching children, a couple of big dogs, and some sort of family get-together taking up three tables.

As much as Howard adored kids and pooches, he’d hoped for a more intimate setting to woo his prospective lady love. He’d have to improvise. Bypassing the revelry, he steered the bike to the far end of the lot, near where the cultivation of the picnic area ended and native foliage took over. He stopped and shut off the engine.

Kat slid off the back and he felt the absence of her body heat immediately. He liked having her squashed against him, and wondered if she’d enjoyed their closeness half as much. Beside him, she unstrapped the helmet, pulled it off, and shook out her hair. A fall of shiny, white-blond silk belonging to an angel.

“That was fun!” she enthused.

Lifting off his own helmet, he ran a hand through his spiky hair. “Glad you thought so, ’cause we’ll have to do it again when I take you home.”

“Maybe we can take the long way back.” Her green eyes danced with mischief as she nibbled her lower lip.

Climbing off the bike, Howard swept her a gallant bow. “This knight and his noble steed are ever at your service, milady.” He felt more than a little ridiculous, but her merry giggle made acting like an idiot worthwhile.

“You’re a romantic, milord?”

“Nope. History Channel buff.” She slapped his arm playfully and he laughed, securing their helmets to the rear of the bike. “What do you want to do first? We can go for a walk or—”

“Oh, Howard, look!”

Kat’s expression melted and she pointed over his shoulder in the direction from which they’d come. Turning, he scanned the large group they’d passed. A baby girl dressed in jeans and a pink cotton turtleneck detached herself from the distracted grown-ups and made a beeline for one of the tables, little legs churning, wispy blond hair flying. She couldn’t be more than two years old, in Howard’s estimation, but determination made up for size.

Unguarded on top of the table sat a rectangular cake with white icing, perhaps for a birthday or anniversary. In seconds, the tot scrambled up to kneel on the bench, and with a squeal of glee, slapped her chubby hand smack into the middle of the dessert. Holding her hand up to view her accomplishment, the baby opened and closed it in fascination, squishing the sticky confection between her fingers a few times, then shoved them into her mouth.

“Isn’t she adorable?” Kat breathed.

Arrested by the longing in Kat’s eyes, his chuckle of amusement at the baby’s antics died in his throat. Glancing to the little girl again, his lungs constricted painfully. A desperate ache that never quite went away, and returned sometimes without warning to rip at his heart.

There were more reasons than one for Howard to remain alone. Complicated, honest-to-God relationship killers tangled in the phantoms haunting his broken sleep. He’d never be able to make a nice, stable, family-oriented woman like Kat happy. How could he have forgotten?

Because you’re praying for the impossible, Six-Pack. No smart woman will settle for what you have to offer.

A tall young lady with light brown hair finally noticed the miscreant, who was now holding out her tiny hand to a golden retriever eagerly licking the rest of the icing, and bolted for the table. “Oh,
Emily Jean
!”

“Yeah, she’s a cutie,” Howard said hoarsely, turning to the leather bags hanging behind the seat of his bike. He fumbled with the straps, his fingers clumsy. “You hungry? I brought some deli sandwiches and stuff.”

So much for unveiling his surprise with finesse. Not that store-bought grub snatched on the fly qualified as a big deal. A player like Jules, on the other hand, would’ve made reservations for dinner at some trendy restaurant in Nashville. Wine, candlelight, witty conversation. A skilled seduction perfectly choreographed to a snazzy Latin beat—

“Is something wrong?”

Kat’s hesitancy snapped him back to attention. Pretty green eyes studied him, concern dimming the merriment of seconds before. Because of him. A curious pang stabbed his gut. Whatever his failings, she deserved the glorious afternoon he’d led her to expect.

“Just a little off after last night,” he lied, lifting a plastic grocery bag from the leather pouch. “Nothing a picnic with the prettiest girl in five counties won’t cure. Shall we?”

The last part, at least, was the truth.

“Hmm, I think you need your eyesight checked,” she said, humor restored. “But a picnic with the hottest guy in five counties sounds fabulous. Lead the way.”

Hottest guy? Jesus. Heat flooded his face. Okay, he’d set himself up for that one. True, women generally found him pleasing enough, but to hear Kat baldly state her approval in return made him squirm.

And yet, coming from an angel, the compliment eased the terrible ache in his chest some, lighting places in his soul that had been cold and dark for . . . well, always.

Confusion warring with a hum of satisfaction vibrating to his toes, Howard took her hand and nodded toward a grassy spot down the riverbank, away from all the activity. “Let’s try over there.”

“Won’t there be snakes?”

“Nah, we’ll scare ’em off.”

“What if they’re sleeping? They’re much harder to see in the fall with the grass turning brown and all the dead leaves on the ground.”

Beside him, Kat shuddered. He shook his head, lips turning up. “A fearless teacher who has no problem running into a burning house with a garden hose, afraid of snakes. Go figure.”

“I’m never going to hear the end of my stupidity, am I?”

“Not as long as you’re around me.” Which he hoped, in spite of the self-doubt serving a fat black eye to his confidence, would be a long while. “It’s my job to protect people, from themselves more often than not. Promise me you won’t do anything like that again.” The sudden steel in his voice surprised them both.

“No argument here. I promise.” As they walked, she shot him a searching look before steering the topic away from her ill-advised Good Samaritan act. “Anyway, I never said I was afraid of snakes. I just prefer not to commune with those particular beasties.”

Howard made a sound of agreement and kept walking. Allowed himself to shrug off the heavy burden of his past, unwilling to let the monster in the shadows screw up his life. Not today. He cast his worries aside, focused on Kat, her small hand engulfed by his huge paw. All soft, fragrant woman, firm and round in the right places.

Especially her cute butt, shaped like an upside-down heart. Two tempting globes contoured by jeans he imagined sliding past curvy hips, down toned thighs. Would her ass cheeks be as pale and creamy as the rest of her skin? What would it feel like to cup them in his big hands, knead the flesh in his fingers as he knelt between her spread thighs, teased her slick entrance with the head of his throbbing—

“Hey, that looks like a good spot!” Kat pointed to a flat grassy area just ahead.

Howard’s fantasy scattered to the wind and he suppressed a groan, willing his erection to cooperate, praying she didn’t notice the divining rod pushing at his zipper. God, he was such a pathetic horn dog.

He cleared his throat. “Yep, this works. I just wish I’d thought to bring a blanket. For the food.” Well, hell, it sounded even worse when he explained. “I’m not some kind of creep or anything, I just didn’t know the picnic tables would be full and—”

“Relax, big guy. You’re wound tighter than an eight-day clock,” she said, patting his shoulder. “I don’t make a habit of joyriding with pervs.”

As they reached their destination, he set the grocery bag on the dried grass and faced her. Stroking his thumb over the back of her hand, he asked, “How do you know I’m not?”

Cocking her head, she peered up at him, considering the question seriously. “Because you’re a lieutenant in the fire department.” She said it with confidence, as though this fact settled the matter entirely.

Howard shook his head. “Doesn’t mean I’m a nice guy.”

“But you
are
. All the evidence supports my being perfectly safe and happy in your company.”

“What evidence?” He waited, intrigued by her assessment of his character. He’d never met a woman so forthright. Honest.

“You rescued me after I’d inhaled too much smoke, made sure I was all right before we parted ways.”

“Doing my job.”

“You were very kind and gentle. Concerned.”

Oh, jeez. Though a secret part of him arched like a cat having his chin scratched, he continued to play devil’s advocate. “Could’ve been an act.”

“How long have you been a firefighter, Lieutenant?”

Lord, he loved when she called him that. The way she drew out the title, breathy and sexy as a caress.

“Sixteen years. I was assigned to Station Five right out of the fire academy, along with my best friend, Sean Tanner. When our captain retired three years ago, Sean got promoted to his position and I moved up from FAO—that’s the guy who drives the big engine— to lieutenant.”

“He got promoted over you, even though you two started together? You seem like a natural leader to me.”

“So is Sean. He’s five years older than me, did a stint in the Marines and survived Desert Storm before joining the fire department. Major points with the department for military service, and he deserves it.”

Green feline eyes sparkling, Kat regarded him as though he’d revealed some monumental secret. “You love him.”

The pronouncement startled him. Love? He snorted. “Sure. We send each other valentines and everything.”

“Oh, don’t be such a
guy
.” She poked him playfully in the stomach with one finger. “Tell me, what would you do to save one of your men if he were in life-threatening trouble?”

“Anything,” he said without hesitation.

“Even at the cost of your own life?”

“Absolutely.”

“I rest my case.”

Christ, she knew how to pump a man’s ego. All he needed was a red cape and a capital S emblazoned on his chest. He chuckled in spite of himself. “All right, I give in. I’m not perv material. But I’m not perfect by a long shot.”

By a wider margin than anyone knew, save his parents and Sean.

“Nobody is, but our faults won’t make a difference to those who truly care for us.” This time, it was her turn to flush. “Holy cow, that was
so
Pollyanna. Sorry.”

He arched a brow. “For what? For believing trial brings out the best in people? Actually, you sound a lot like Georgie, and I respect her more than any lady I know.”

Kat recognized the huge compliment in the comparison. “Thank you . . . but what do
you
believe?”

Whoa, getting deep here. Still, he gave an honest answer. “Georgie’s an optimist. I’m a realist, like Bentley. I take my blows as they come, deal with them, move on. I think all of that ‘Adversity makes you stronger’ stuff is what people say to comfort themselves when the going gets rough. Friends and family can stand by you, lend support. But in the end, your inner core of strength pulls you through, period.”

“Or not.”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, thinking of Sean. Of the man’s shattered world that no amount of drugs or hand-holding could ever patch back together. “And sometimes, no matter how strong you thought you were, the damage takes you out of the game.”

Kat laid a palm in the center of his chest, concern etched on her smooth features. “Are you referring to yourself, or someone else?”

Good question. A second ago, he could’ve sworn he was talking about Sean. God, it was hard to think with her standing so close, touching him, fingers scorching his skin through the fabric of his T-shirt. Lord help him, he needed to touch her, too.

“A friend, and too sad a story for a day like today. Kat?”

“Yes?”

“May I kiss you?”

Her eyes widened and she started to say something, but nothing emerged.

“Jesus, I’m a jerk. Forget I—”

Kat stepped into his body, reached up to curl one hand behind his neck. She tugged his head down and Howard went willingly, taking her mouth with a groan of pure bliss.

Her lips were plump and sweet, every bit as kissable as he’d imagined. Strawberries on the vine, waiting for him to savor, nibble. Not wanting to rush her, he started slowly and gently. Parted her Windbreaker, rested his palms at the curve of her waist, brushed his lips against hers, tempting. Maximizing the initial tingle, the anticipation. Drawing out the moment to make them crave more.