Burn for Me (6 page)

She saluted him. “I’m up for it.”

They played Mad Libs in the front seat of his car, combining Shakespeare with silliness, as he made her laugh, and she made him smile, until he needed to return to work. He’d been hoping to have a night off—go to the gym, play hoops with some of the guys from the firehouse. But that wasn’t an option—the bar project was taking longer than he’d expected, and he had no one else to call on to shoulder some of the load.

“I should go. That back section of the bar isn’t going to build itself,” he said, trying to keep the frustration that nagged at him at bay.

“You think it’ll be done soon?” she asked.

“Why? You hoping to have me out of your hair and not run into me in the back of the bar?” he said, making light of the situation.

She pushed back on his shoulder gently with her hand, not giving in to his attempts. “No. Because you sounded annoyed that you have to work tonight. Are you?”

He shrugged because the truth was he didn’t really want to start talking about work. He just wanted to finish the damn job for Becker. Last thing he needed was to have his friend ticked off at how long it was taking. If he had to stay up all night he would. He’d gotten a call earlier in the day about building a new sundeck onto a house in the hills. He was going to have to find time to squeeze that in too. “Nah, it’s not a big deal,” he said, waving off her concerns.

“Smith,” she said gently, fixing him a serious stare. “Do you need help with it?”

“You offering to take up a hammer and nails? Maybe get a little construction belt? You’d look mighty hot in some work boots, cut-off shorts, and a little tool belt around your waist.”

She rolled her eyes. “You always make light of things.”

He didn’t have an answer, because she was right.

“But seriously,” she said, persisting. “You’re going to wear yourself out. You should hire help.”

“I’m fine. I can do it myself. I’ve got it under control,” he said, because he didn’t want to talk about work or the things that weighed on him, so he did what she asked him to do—focus on sex.

“Hey, since you seem to like me for my body, what would you say to another round tonight? I can come by after I finish up my work tonight?”

“Now you’re getting the hang of our deal,” she said as she ran a hand across his thigh.

“Darlin’, I got the hang of our deal when you were screaming my name at the top of your lungs.”

She blushed, but grinned wickedly and moved in for another kiss, erasing all thoughts of business and work and the way he’d have to spend his evening. None of that mattered because he’d have more of her at the end of the night. But the next day, he’d need to start focusing on winning not just her body, but her heart. He had seven days to woo her.

Chapter Seven

Smith rested his elbow on the rolled-down window of his truck as he returned to the fire station. He’d been to the grocery store, picking up food for the next shift, and had about thirty minutes left before quitting time. It had been a long twenty-four hours with a handful of car accidents to tend to. No major injuries, though, and he was grateful for that.

His mind rolled back to Jamie once more, returning to the bookstore and truck encounter earlier in the week, as well as the last few nights they’d spent enjoying each other’s bodies. She’d stopped by his house every night he wasn’t working, and those were the best parts of the day—the moments with her, alone in his bedroom, in the living room, even the kitchen counter, as they drove each other to new heights of pleasure. All the images were burned brilliantly in his brain. But he couldn’t rest on their chemistry. He needed to plan a fantastic date for Jamie. To show her he could give her more than just pleasure. That he was the man she could trust and depend on, like she wanted and needed.

He pulled into the fire station and cut the engine. He pushed thoughts of Jamie aside when he saw the guys starting to ready the quint. Fires were rare in Hidden Oaks, so based on the speed of the prep—leisurely—chances were good the quint was for some kind of minor incident.

“What’s the story?” Smith asked as he shut the door and carried in the groceries.

His buddy Travis strolled toward him, his low-key stride making it clear they weren’t prepping for a five-alarm anything. He pulled a quarter from his pocket, so Smith knew what was coming next. “I’ll tell you, but first—heads you win, tails you lose.”

Smith was never one to back down from a bet, even though he didn’t know the stakes. “I’m in. What’s it for?”

“If you can guess who just called. Here’s your hint: Cat’s stuck in a tree on Pine Crescent Road.”

Smith groaned as he put away the food in the fridge and cupboards. “Not again?”

“Yup. Again.”

“Never in my twenty-eight years of life have I met a cat who cannot come down from a tree on his own. Except for Melody Olsen’s.”

Melody had asked him out two years ago. Then one year ago. Then a few months ago. He wasn’t feeling it for her, so he’d said thanks but no thanks. She still liked to send him naughty text messages now and then. He ignored them all. He wasn’t going to lead her on by answering them. Lately, though, she’d been finding inventive ways to get around his lack of response. This was the second time she’d called about her cat. Fine, her tabby was quite a tree climber. But still…

“She asked for you. She wants you to go get her pussycat,” Travis said and then slapped his thigh.

“How long have you been waiting to make that joke, Trav?”

“Since we got that call five minutes ago.” Travis flipped the coin in the air, catching it in one quick motion, then brandishing the tails side in his palm. “And tails says you’re coming along.”

But Smith waved him off. “Let me just run out there. Save you guys the hassle. That branch is maybe ten feet high and I’ve got my work ladder in my truck. It’ll do.”

“You know we gotta answer every call, no matter how ridiculous.”

“I know. But it’s a Friday night in wine country, and we don’t all need to be off dealing with this in case something serious happens. I’m on my way home and I can take care of it.”

Thirty minutes later, he handed a loudly meowing cat—who honestly looked a little pissed, almost as if he’d been parked up there in that branch—to Melody Olsen.

“Thank you so much. He’s been there for hours, and I know he’s been terrified,” she said, as she stroked the black and silvery feline’s head.

“He’s all safe and sound now and barely nicked a nail.”

Melody held her cat tight, then tipped her forehead to her house with its wraparound porch. She’d placed two empty wineglasses and a bottle on a table by the porch railing.

“You want to join Tiger and me for a glass of wine?” she said coyly, as she stroked the cat in what she likely thought was a seductive fashion. The petting did nothing but remind him of Jamie. And how he’d like her to be the one inviting him over. Have a drink with her on the porch—beer for him, wine for her—talk about their day, look at the stars. Hell, he’d even be up for a little poetry if she wanted that. She intrigued him to no end—she was tough on the outside, but had a real vulnerable side underneath that she showed him now and then. She’d laid it out for him at the bookstore, being honest and blunt about what she wanted in life and love—a reformed playboy.

He’d have to be that for her.

“Thank you, ma’am. But no, thank you. I’m just glad your boy’s okay.” He gave the cat a quick pet between the ears before sliding into his truck to return to the fire station.

He turned the engine on as Melody waved good-bye and then made the cat wave, too. He laughed and gave an imaginary tip of the hat to Tiger. That’s when it hit him.

Cats and dogs.

Jamie loved animals. Dogs especially, and he had just the idea for her.

Not for a date, but something else.

It was a damn good thing Melody’s cat had found his way up that tree branch again, after all. Feeling pretty pleased with himself, he turned up the radio in his car, blasting a Billy Currington tune and singing along as he bumped down Melody’s long, gravelly driveway. He spotted Jamie’s car heading down the street. Her parents lived on this stretch of road, too. He waved to her, but when she gave him a sharp-eyed stare, he cursed and smacked the wheel with one hand.

She was jumping to the wrong conclusion, and he wished he could hop out of his truck and explain that he’d been saving a pet and nothing more. But from the way Jamie glared at him—even from a distance—he knew she was thinking he’d been playing cat and mouse with Melody.

He scrambled to find his phone, but by the time he grabbed it and called her, it went straight to voicemail.

…

“I heard you and Smith were hanging out in the bookstore earlier in the week.”

Jamie raised one eyebrow at her sister as they washed the sundae dishes in the kitchen while their parents played with Diane’s daughter in the living room.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, friend of mine was there. Said the two of you looked pretty flirty,” Diane said playfully as she rinsed off chocolate syrup from a bowl.

Jamie concentrated on drying a plate, rubbing the towel over it several times so she wouldn’t have to look at her sister. She didn’t want to admit to anything, not after the promise she’d made, and certainly not after spotting Smith cavorting with that cat woman.

“Something going on with him?” Diane elbowed her.

“No.”

She stared at her. “Honestly?”

“No,” she said, but she didn’t like lying to her sister. She sighed, then managed some of the truth. “Okay, we kissed at the kickoff party. That was all.”

“You like him?”

“Yes,” she admitted grudgingly, though the word was hard to get out because she’d never planned on feeling this way. “But who doesn’t?”

“He’s gorgeous. Be careful, though. You know what happened to me when I got involved with a friend.”

“Don’t worry. Nothing more is going to happen,” she said, and that was the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Though her heart hurt for the first time at the thought of nothing more.

“Why?” Diane asked, tilting her head and looking curiously at her sister.

“Why what?”

“Why is nothing more going to happen? You kissed him. You just said you liked him. I still think you need to be cautious, but that gets even harder when you like someone.”

Like
. Sure, she liked Smith. As a friend, as a buddy, as a friend with benefits, and he’d been giving her lots of benefits the last few days and nights. That man was masterful with her body and she found herself craving more and more of his naughty mouth. Truth be told, she’d enjoyed their chats after sex too—the conversations had been just as good as when they were friends-without-benefits. That was the trouble—she’d always been able to talk to him easily. They were starting to develop more of a connection—he made her laugh, he cared about her feelings, and he seemed to genuinely not want to hurt her.

But that was all, wasn’t it? Jamie shrugged as if it were no big deal.

“Oh no. That’s not how we do it,” Diane said, poking her sister in the arm. “Do. You. Like Him? As more than friends?”

Jamie drew a deep breath, letting the air fill her body, hoping it would bring answers too. “Maybe?” she offered. “But I worry he’s going to be like you-know-who.”

“Listen, I’m not going to pretend to tell you that you can always trust someone forever and ever. But I know this much. Cara told me he was always nice to her when they went out. A total gentleman, and they’re even still friends, but she broke up with him because she thought he always had eyes for someone else.”

“Who?”

“She didn’t say. But maybe the woman he really wanted is you, Jamie.”

Her heart dared to skip a beat, and this time it wasn’t just from lust. It was from hope.

Chapter Eight

Her cat was stuck in the tree.

The message glared at her when she turned her cell phone on as she got in her car. She jammed the key into the ignition, wanting desperately to believe him but knowing the risks and feeling duped nonetheless.

As she turned on the car her phone flashed again.

She glanced at it and did a double take.
Meow
—
I really was in a tree. -Tiger.

She fought back a silly grin with no success. She wanted to be angry, to curse him, but the text cracked her up. She grabbed the phone and called him back as she drove. Maybe Diane was right.

“Is anything on fire?”

“Nothing but my muscles and they’re burning from working out hard,” he said.

She laughed. “Are you at the gym?”

“Just finished,” he said, and he sounded weary. “But now I’m home and about to crash. Long day. Long shift. Twenty-four hour shifts do that to you.”

“I can imagine. So the cat was in a tree? For real?” she asked, her voice still laced with skepticism. But it was a skepticism she wanted to shed.

“Swear on my life.”

“You know that’s the classic fireman cliché.”

“But it’s true.”

She rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see her as she drove. “Look, I know this is no-strings-attached, but I need to know for sure that you aren’t messing around with anyone else this week.”

“I’m not, I promise,” he said, and she could hear the earnestness in his tone, but she could also
feel
it, as if she were holding it in her grasp. “I wouldn’t do that. I swear on my men, on all my guys at the firehouse. I swear on the way I’d protect them and run into burning houses to save a kid, a family, a dog, even a cat, that I was only there on a work call.”

“You swear?” she asked, her voice trembling. At some point she was going to have to decide whether to let go of her fears. But she knew the word of the fireman was a true one.

“I swear. She had a bottle of wine, and she tried to get me to stay, but I left. I’m not interested in her. I am only interested in the gorgeous, smart, fiery woman I bought a book of poems for. Besides, you have to know me well enough by now to know that I’m not that kind of a guy. When I’m with a woman I’m with that woman, and you might have declared this ‘no-strings attached’ and that’s fine for now, but my string is only attached to you.”

Her heart thumped wildly, and she gripped the steering wheel so she could focus on the road. The sentiment was so sweet that it made her long for him. Besides, the truth was she did know him. And while he’d had a long line of ladies, maybe she’d been judging him simply for being lucky in love. She’d assumed that meant he strayed. But you could be lucky in love and be faithful. She decided right then and there to let go of all her lingering jealousy. She might not ever want more from him, but she wanted this thing they had—this fling—to be just between them. And part of that meant she needed to say good-bye to her worries about other women. Because they were just that—
her
worries. Nothing more.

“I do know you. I’m going to believe you.”

“Good. You should,” he said and yawned.

“Hard shift?”

“Yeah, there were a few car accidents we had to tend to.”

“Anyone hurt badly?”

“Rushed a family over to the hospital but it was all minor bumps and bruises.”

“That’s scary but I’m glad it was okay.”

“Me too,” he said, taking another yawn. “Hey, was that our first fight as friends with benefits?”

She stopped at a light. “I think so.”

“I like how it resolved.”

“Me too.” She paused and her mind rolled through an idea. Playfulness slinked back into her voice as she asked, “How tired are you?”

“I’m never too tired for
that
, if you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

…

Ten minutes later, he opened the door and Jamie stood on his porch, the moonlight illuminating her. The faint glow of the half-light made her even prettier, her blond hair streaming down her back and over her shoulders. He was about to make a wisecrack about late-night visitors, but she pressed her lips against his in the sweetest kiss anyone had ever given him. In seconds, she’d disarmed him, and a groan escaped his throat. She brushed her lips lightly against his, kissing so softly it was as if she were barely there. But that’s what made her kiss so enticing; it was a promise of more.

They stood like that kissing—only kissing—for minutes, and soon he threaded his hands into her hair, savoring the soft feel of the strands on his rough fingers.

“Hi,” he said when she broke the kiss.

“Hi. I have a late-night delivery for you,” she said, and trailed her hands down his shirt. His breath caught in his throat as her fingers danced across his stomach, and she smiled as she traced the outline of his abs. He grabbed her arms gently but firmly, and pulled her into the house.

“Whatever delivery you have for me I don’t need the neighbors seeing,” he said.

The door was swinging shut as she claimed his mouth again. She kissed harder this time, sliding her tongue across his, searching his mouth as she laced her fingers through his. It was as if she were claiming him, and he wanted that.

“I’m sorry I was worried about Melody,” she said as she pulled away.

“Don’t even think twice about it. I kind of like how you want me all to yourself,” he said, running his finger along her cheek.

“I do. And I want to do something for you.”

He quirked an eyebrow in question.

“You’ve had a long shift. You work hard. And I want you to sleep well.”

“What do you have in mind?” he said, but whatever it was he was sure he’d like it, judging from the way hot tension started to roll through his veins, especially when she wedged herself between his legs, rubbing against his erection. He grabbed her hips, tugging her closer.

She looped her hands around his waist. “You have the sexiest back,” she said, and before he could respond, she’d dipped her hands below the waistband of his shorts, touching his bare ass. “Have I told you how much I love that you go commando?”

“You have not. Feel free to tell me now.”

“It is so hot,” she said, cupping his cheeks and squeezing. “You might have the best butt in the world.”

“Ass. You can call it an ass,” he teased, getting a kick out of how she still couldn’t bring herself to swear.

“
Butt
,” she said playfully, as she inched his shorts down to the ground.

She stood up and tugged off his shirt. She brushed her chest against him, sending a sharp hot jolt down his body. “Nice ass,” she said, like it was the most forbidden thing she’d ever breathed.

“Very good,” he said, and traced his finger across her lips. “I knew you had a dirty side. Now can I get you to say ‘fuck me, Smith?
’
”

“No,” she said, shaking her head coyly. “Because that’s not what we’re doing. I have something else in mind.” She brought her lips to his ear and whispered hotly, “I want your cock in my mouth.”

For a second he was simply shocked. Then his body raced with desire, and he nearly burst inside as the naughty words from the woman he wanted rang in his head. “You
do
have it in you to be a dirty talker,” he said appreciatively.

“Maybe you’re growing on me,” she said, as she wrapped a hand around him, and in an instant the talking ceased.

He couldn’t speak. He could only curse—and groan—as she stroked him from the base all the way to the head, and he watched her the whole time. Her eyes were intense and full of lust. The look on her face was one he’d take a mental picture of to recall later. To have her touching him like this, like she wanted him this badly, was all he could ask for.

She dropped to her knees and kissed him.

Another moan escaped him as she surrounded him with her warm, wet mouth. The way she took him was both sweet and scorchingly hot at the same time. She looked like a goddess—
his
goddess—with her flowing blond hair, and that beautiful face, and those red lips locked tight as her tongue explored every inch of him.

He twined his hands into her hair. She moved faster, sucking him hard, and he could feel himself nearing the edge, electricity crackling through his veins.

He somehow found the Herculean strength to gently, but insistently, pull her away.

“What? You don’t like it?”

He pulled her up, leveling her with his eyes. “I love it. I love watching you suck me off, Jamie. And I want nothing more than to fuck those pretty little lips of yours.”

“So do it,” she said in a sexy purr that sent his blood racing faster.

“I want to be inside you—” he started to say.

She shook her head and pressed her finger against his lips. “This is for you. I want to do this for you.”

Before he could protest or try to take her the way he wanted, he let her give instead as she returned her lips to him. The temperature in his body rose precipitously as she sucked harder, taking him deeper. He grappled at her hair, grabbing hard and groaning as she worked her tongue and lips over him. Pleasure forked through his body. He took a deep, fueling breath, but soon his breathing grew stilted and his hips jerked as she sent him over the edge.

His shoulders shook from the aftershocks. When she stood up, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, he tugged her in close. “Wow.”

“I think that’s the quietest you’ve even been.”

“You took me by surprise,” he said, petting her hair softly.

“Good. Now go get some rest,” she said, then kissed him quickly on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Spend the night?” he asked, his voice rising a touch with hopefulness.

She shook her head. “Another time.”

But time was running out, and soon their week would be over.

She left, the door falling shut behind her. As he drifted off, he was left completely satisfied but also thoroughly vexed, wondering if she would ever spend the night, and hoping to hell she would want more than just these benefits someday very soon.