Breaking Protocol (Firehouse Fourteen Book 3) (4 page)

Silence greeted her, a short pause followed by the soft sound of a clearing throat. Perfect. Probably a telemarketer, using one of those annoying robo calls. She was ready to disconnect the call, but was stopped when the voice on the other end finally spoke.

"Hey, it's Dave." Another pause. "Dave Warren."

A smile curled the corners of her mouth and she moved over to the bed, sitting down on the edge. "Hey Big Guy. What's up?"

"Nothing." His voice was gruff, his answer given almost grudgingly, like he had called against his will or better judgment. She smiled into the phone but didn't say anything. If he had taken the time to call, she certainly wasn't going to lead the conversation.

But several long seconds went by and she was beginning to wonder if he would actually say anything else. She was ready to take pity on him when the sound of a deep breath came across the phone, along with the visual of him running a hand through that thick shock of black hair.

"I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite to eat." Again, his voice was rough, uncertain.

"Oh. Sorry, but I just ate."

"Oh. That's okay, maybe another time."

CC straightened on the bed, no longer smiling. Because she knew,
knew
, that he was going to hang up. And that it would be a long time before he called her again. If he ever called her again.

"But I haven't had dessert yet."

A long pause. "Dessert?"

She could only imagine what he was thinking, after this morning's visit, and laughed. "Don't worry, I mean real dessert. Like chocolate. It's one of the four major food groups."

Something that sounded like a chuckle, an honest-to-goodness almost-real chuckle, tickled her ear. Rusty, a little forced, and probably definitely unexpected as far as the speaker was concerned. CC smiled to herself. Progress, she thought.

"I think I can do chocolate."

"You mean there's people who can't? The horror!" Another chuckle? Or maybe just a cough disguised as a wheeze? CC closed her eyes, imagining dark chocolate eyes crinkling at the corners, a full sensuous mouth tilting up ever so slightly. How much more devastatingly handsome would he be if she ever actually got him to smile?

Then she snapped her eyes open and looked down at the ragged shorts and tank shirt she had been wearing all day, that she had been swimming in. She rolled her eyes and hurried into the bathroom, reaching in to turn on the water for the shower.

"What's that?"

"Hm? Oh, probably the shower, I'm getting ready to jump in."

There was another pause, another sound like he was clearing his throat.

Or possibly choking.

She put the phone on speaker then placed it on the counter, peeling off clothes as she spoke. "Do you know where the Thunderbird is, on Old Eastern Avenue?"

"Isn't that an ice cream place?"

"Ice cream, chocolate malts, and the absolute best hot fudge sauce this side of heaven. Meet in a half hour?"

There was another pause, shorter this time, and she imagined him glancing at his watch. "How about forty-five?"

"Even better. See you in a little bit, Big Guy." She hit the end button, cutting him off before he could remind her again that his name was Dave.

She smiled and climbed under the streaming water.

Yes, sometimes staying home was just what she needed.

And sometimes, it wasn't.

Dave pulled into the parking lot, his eyes widening at the unexpected crowd. Dozens of cars filled the small lot and he searched for an open space. He hadn't expected this many people. To be honest, he hadn't really expected any people at all. It was a weeknight, the heat of summer was all but gone, and he didn't really think there was this much demand for ice cream.

Even if they did have the best hot fudge sauce this side of heaven.

He shook his head at the memory of her words, wrapped in that light accent of hers. He didn't know if it was all authentic, or slightly exaggerated for his benefit. All he knew was that the sound of her clear voice, almost musical, combined with an image of her standing naked while she talked to him had a completely unexpected effect on his body.

Yeah, so unexpected that his own shower had been very short, and very, very cold.

He pulled into an open spot in a dark corner of the lot then got out and locked the truck behind him, stopping to look around. It had been forty-five minutes exactly since he had gotten off the phone with CC, but he hadn't thought to ask where to meet her.

Hadn't realized he would have needed to. He looked around again then headed toward the building, thinking he'd find her out front.

The ice cream place was nothing more than a low, rectangular white building. It didn't offer indoor seating but it did have a few tables, chairs, and benches available outside. The building boasted two large sliding windows: one for placing your order and paying, the other for picking it up.

Quick, efficient, and—from the looks of the lines—extremely popular.

"Hey Big Guy."

Dave paused mid-step when he heard that clear voice calling him. He knew he should be surprised that he recognized not only the voice, but the name she called him as well.

But he wasn't.

And that worried him, because he had only just met her last night.

Had it really been just last night? Why did it seem so much longer?

He pushed the question from his mind then turned, his eyes drifting around the parking lot, searching her out. His gaze brushed over the woman leaning against a motorcycle, then sped back.

And sure enough, it was CC, her denim-clad legs crossed in front of her as she leaned against a sparkling Harley Fat Boy. He had a second's amazement that someone so petite could manage such a machine.

Then he had an image of her straddling the machine, controlling it as the powerful engine throbbed between her legs.

Dave had no idea what the hell was wrong with him, only knew that he needed to snap out of it. There were too many other things going on in his life right now, too many other worries, not the least of which were the recurring messages he was receiving.

So then why was he even here? What had prompted him to call CC in the first place?

It had been a whim, brought on by something needier within him, something he wasn't ready to admit to, something he wasn't willing to examine. But he was here now.

And so was she.

She was still leaning against the bike, watching him. Her blonde hair was longer than he had first realized, cascading almost to the middle of her back in loose waves. Her jeans were worn and faded, the denim molding to the generous curves of her hips and thighs before flaring slightly to cover the tops of worn black riding boots.

She was wearing a fitted long sleeve shirt, the v-cut just deep enough to reveal a generous swell of full, rounded breasts. A flash of warmth went through him at the memory of that feminine body and all its curves pressed against him this morning. But instead of making him smile, he scowled and again wondered what he was doing here.

CC's sudden laugh caught him by surprise and he almost stepped back, not sure why she was laughing. She pushed away from the bike and walked over to him, not stopping until she was close enough to run her hand across his chest with a little smile.

He was surprised that he stood still long enough to allow the familiarity.

But not surprised at the heat that danced along his flesh at the touch.

"Do you ever smile, Big Guy? Or is this grumpiness a permanent state for you?"

"I'm not grumpy."

"Hm." She looked up at him, her hazel eyes more green than brown in the reflection of the light that fell around them, and smiled. "Well, you may want to work on letting your face know, because that scowl sure says grumpy to me."

Dave looked down at her, not knowing how to respond. What could he say? He knew how to smile. He even knew how to laugh, dammit. He just hadn't done much of either lately. And it wasn't like he was going to tell her why, either.

But he didn't get a chance to say anything, anyway, because she suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the building, stopping when they reached the end of the line.

And she didn't let go of his hand.

He was surprised at the feel of her hand in his. Her fingers were long and slender, the bones almost fragile in his larger grip. But there was strength there, too, just beneath the surface. He glanced down, surprised at the strong physical differences between them. Small to his large; delicate to his rough; pale to his dark. 

But despite the differences, he suddenly realized that anyone who underestimated this woman, did so at their own risk. It was a warning he would do well to remember, he thought.

CC suddenly raised their joined hands between them, a grin on her face.

"You okay with this, Big Guy? Or does it bother you?"

"Uh, no." He cleared his throat and looked down, mortified to feel his face heat under her gaze. "No, I'm fine."

She rolled her eyes but didn't say anything, just looked up at him with that sweet smile and sparkling eyes. And he felt himself relax. Actually relax, as if this was something he was comfortable doing, as if it was something he did every day.

The silence was companionable while they waited, comfortable and even welcoming. He didn't feel the need to make forced conversation, didn't feel the need to rack his brain for something, anything, to say.

Then they reached the window and it was their turn to order, and his mind went completely blank.

Not because he had no idea what to get. No, it was blank because it simply shut down when it registered what CC ordered.

He felt her eyes on him then finally looked down, wondering if his mouth was still open in surprise. Something must have shown on his face, because she laughed again, a sweet tinkling sound.

"Do not get between a woman and her chocolate, Big Guy. Now order something for yourself because I'm not sharing."

Dave looked up at the cashier, who was watching him expectantly, and realized he had no idea what he wanted. So he ordered a basic hot fudge sundae, then released her hand and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He slid a sideways glance at CC, half-expecting her to argue about who would pay for it.

But she surprised him again with another soft laugh, shaking her head. "I'm not like a lot of other women, Big Guy. If someone is going to offer to buy me chocolate, the answer is always yes."

And for some reason, her answer didn't surprise him. For a day full of surprises, that was probably most surprising of all. So he pulled out some bills to pay for the ice cream then let CC lead him over to an empty table that was set slightly apart from the others. She took a seat, watching him as he lowered his large frame into the small metal chair.

Then he just sat there, not knowing what to say. He shifted, the chair squeaking with the movement, and wondered if it would break. At least that would give him something to talk about, he thought.

CC chuckled and he frowned at her in annoyance. Not because she was laughing at him, he knew she wasn't. But because laughter seemed to come so easy for her.

"I wish I had a camera so I could take a picture right now. You look so uncomfortable over there. Oh, wait. I do." She pulled her phone from her back pocket and, before Dave realized what she was about to do, she snapped a picture. She looked down at it, grinned, then turned the phone around and handed it to him.

With reluctance he accepted the phone, his fingers brushing against hers with a tingling awareness. He started, surprised, but she only grinned and released her hold on the phone.

The image on the screen showed a man in his early thirties, with deep set dark eyes, brows lowered in a partial scowl. A square jaw covered with a shadow of stubble. Small grooves bracketed lips pursed in annoyance.

No wonder CC kept calling him grumpy. The man in the picture looked perpetually pissed-off, and Dave wondered if that was how he looked all the time. The thought filled him with a weary sadness and a permeating sense of loss. Quickly on top of that came another emotion, fleeting but no less intense.

Anger.

Anger at the truth captured in that frozen second of time. Anger that he had allowed himself to become the man he glimpsed in the picture. His fingers tightened briefly against the phone, then relaxed as he handed it back to CC.

She was watching him carefully, her eyes studying, her oval face a blank mask hiding whatever she was thinking. Dave may have only just met her, but he knew that this sudden seriousness wasn't characteristic for her. He was sure she could be serious, had to be serious, given the nature of her job, but not like this.

He cleared his throat, looked away from her watchful gaze, turned back and tried to smile. It felt like a grimace. "I hope you're going to delete that."

CC suddenly smiled at him, all seriousness gone. Her thumb tapped at the phone's screen then she held it up for him to see. "All gone. Who knows, maybe one of these days, I'll get one of you smiling."

One of these days
. She said it like she was sure there would be more days, more opportunities for candid pictures.

A chance she'd capture him smiling, for at least a frozen second in time.

Dave didn't know what to make of that, not when he wasn't even sure why he had called her tonight in the first place. And right now, he couldn't think past this minute, wouldn't consider anything past this hour, right here, right now.

But he couldn't tell her that and, thankfully, didn't have to, because the teenager bellowed their number from the window. Dave stood to pick up their order, then paused when he saw the tray being pushed their way.

One ice cream sundae, the clear plastic glass filled with two scoops of vanilla ice cream, drizzled in hot fudge, topped with whipped cream and a cherry.

And one monstrosity, dwarfing the sundae in size, drowning in so much hot fudge sauce, his back teeth hurt.

"Holy shit."

Laughter greeted his blunt observation as CC reached around him and grabbed the tray, along with some extra napkins. He turned and followed her back to their table, his eyes still rounded in amazement. She placed his sundae in front of him, then pulled the monstrosity in front of her, eyeing it with a broad grin.

"Are you actually going to eat that whole thing?" His words sounded almost accusing and he snapped his mouth shut, horrified that he had even asked something so rude. Because it was rude. Even ruder to ask that question of a woman he had invited out—not that this was a date or anything. Regardless, he would never say that to any woman he was out with, not if he had plans to ask her out again. CC deserved no less.

Even if this wasn't a date.

But instead of getting upset, or annoyed or impatient, she looked up at him with those clear laughing eyes and smiled. "Of course I am, Big Guy. I have to keep these curves somehow." She dipped the long plastic spoon into the monstrosity and scooped out a portion that was more fudge sauce than ice cream. His eyes followed the spoon's trail to her mouth, watched as her tongue darted out to lick the drip of fudge sauce hanging from the spoon. Her full lips closed over it and an expression of bliss crossed her face, her eyes closing in appreciation, a soft murmur accompanying the taste.

Dave was surprised his sundae didn't immediately melt from the instant heat that shot through him, just watching her. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, opened them back up and glanced over at her.

"I think you have nice curves."

The words were out before he had even known they had formed in his mind, let alone traveled to his mouth. He snapped his mouth closed and looked down at the sundae in front of him, feeling his face heat. But CC only laughed, the sound light and musical. Teasing, but not in a mean way.

"Well I'll be. Did the Big Guy just give me a compliment? Or, horror, was he actually trying to flirt?"

Dave grumbled something and attacked his sundae, figuring his mouth couldn't get him into further trouble if it was shoved full of ice cream. CC laughed again and shook her head.

"And there it went. Oh well." She dipped her spoon into the fudge sauce and dug out another spoonful, bringing it to her mouth. Dave looked away, torn between responding to her comment, or drooling while watching her eat.

Either option would only lead him into more trouble. So he ate his sundae in silence, his gaze occasionally drifting across the table, watching. Not watching her eat, that was too much like torture, but just watching her.