Fire at Sunset: The Firefighters of Darling Bay 4 (13 page)

It was, perhaps, the only thing he’d ever wanted to do. Maybe the thing he was born to do.
 

Her hand wrapped around his wrist and gripped him so tightly it almost hurt. He wanted her to touch him like that everywhere. She stood, sliding her body along the length of his, never breaking the kiss. Her lips were hot and sweet, and he dimly heard her fork clatter to the deck at their feet. Dinner was forgotten. Nothing mattered but the way her tongue slid against his, the way her breathing speeded up, the way he could feel her pulse racing when his fingers feathered her throat. His heart was beating just as fast, juddering under his shirt.

Caz sucked her bottom lip lightly. Her arm wrapped around his neck and he felt her small breasts push against his chest. “Caz.”
 

“Mad.”
 

There was no annoyance in her eyes at the nickname, just the fire of desire. “Take me to bed,” she said.
 

“But,” he said, raking his teeth against the soft skin at her jaw and then sliding his tongue up to her ear. “What about dessert?”
 

“What kind of dessert?” she said, her lips finding his again.
 

Against her mouth, he said, “Strawberry shortcake. First berries of the season.”
 

She dug her fingernails into the skin of his arms as his tongue teased its way down toward the soft hollow at the base of her throat. Her scent, peaches and soap, was intoxicating, making him feel weightless and almost dizzy. He kissed his way back to her mouth just as she said, “Whipped cream?”
 

Two words had never been sexier, he decided. “Naturally.”
 

“You’d better bring it to bed with us. Just in case.”
 

He laughed out loud, the sound of his happiness soaring to meet the starlight overhead.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Bonnie’s grandmother used to knit everywhere she went. She stuck the sock she was always working on into whatever purse or bag was handiest, the ball of yarn inevitably getting tangled in among the pens and Tylenol bottles and individually wrapped Life Savers. Bonnie was the most accomplished at untangling the mess, and they spent hours together, tracking where the yarn’s tail went, tracing the ball along its path.

When Bonnie woke in Caz’s arms, she felt like that ball of yarn. If she drew her arm from under his side, then she’d have to extricate her leg which was pinned somehow between him and the wall. Her hair was stuck under his pillow and his other arm was clamped firmly around her.
 

She’d never felt safer in her whole life. Not that she spent a lot of time feeling unsafe—she knew how to take care of herself. She’d never minded sleeping alone. In fact, she loved waking and rolling over in her big bed at home, splaying her arms and legs, letting her feet hang over the end, with no one in her way. She never gave herself a cramp being stuck in one position when she slept alone.
 

That said, muscle cramps and all, this was better. Somehow, even as uncomfortable as she was, this was better than being comfortable in her own spacious (and very empty) bed.
 

“Hi,” Caz said into her hair.
 

She jumped. “Holy crap.”
 

A low laugh was all she heard, his chest rumbling. As his arms tightened around her, she shimmied in closer. “How long have you been awake?” she asked.

“Just long enough to…” A pause. “For me to feel happy.”
 

Bonnie felt something melt inside her, right around her knees. “Oh.”
 

Caz took her hand and held it in the air with his own. “Look how small your hand is.” He compared them over their heads, pressing his fingers along hers.

“I have my mother’s hands. And my father’s feet. Long toes.”
 

Another rumble of laughter. “I bet I like those toes, too, but your hand doesn’t require me to move to inspect.”
 

He could inspect just about anything right now and Bonnie wouldn’t mind. The warmth of him was keeping her drowsy, even though small flutters of excitement shot through her as he twined his fingers again with hers.
 

“You were good last night,” Caz said.
 

She blinked and grinned. “Well, thank you.”
 

He kissed the tip of her thumb. “No, well, yeah, but I mean with my dad. The way you talked to him.”
 

“Oh. Of course.” She loved the warmth that pooled through her.
 

“Did you know you talk in your sleep?”
 

“Uh-oh.”
 

“Uh-huh.”
 

“What did I say?”
 

His lips pressed against her temple. “It didn’t make much sense. Something about Caz and a pig in a wheelbarrow. Oh, and how you just had the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.”
 

“Well, that makes sense.”
 

Caz drew back, that slow, sexy smile wide on his mouth. “I’m just teasing.”
 

“I wasn’t.”
 

“Sugar, you don’t have to flatter me.”
 

“I’m not.” She stretched, reaching her arms over her head and pressing her fingertips to the headboard. “It’s the first time I’ve ever had sex at all. So of course it was the best.”
 

Bonnie felt Caz still, his muscles going rigid.
 

“You’re not serious.”
 

She felt a giggle rise in her chest, but she kept her face still and opened her eyes wide. She blinked once, slowly, keeping her gaze on his. “Should I have told you?”

Caz made a small sputtering sound. “Your first time? That was your first time?” His arms tightened around her, and she was in the biggest bear hug of her life. “Sugar. Oh, love, did I hurt you? You should have told me.”
 

The word
love
sent a shiver through her, and for the life of her, Bonnie couldn’t tell what kind of shiver it was. She’d only been teasing. A silly joke, that’s all it had been. “Okay, maybe it wasn’t my
first
time.” She gave a grin, hoping he’d guffaw and match it.
 

But he didn’t.
 

“Wait. So it wasn’t your first…I’m confused.”
 

“Kidding! I’m thirty-one, come on.” Bonnie shouldn’t press the joke, she knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help teasing him a little more. “I can’t believe you fell for that. That’s hilarious.”
 

Caz shot backward. From being enveloped by him, to being alone on her side of the bed in mere seconds. “It’s what?”

Bonnie scooted to get closer to him again, her skin suddenly chilled. “I was teasing.”
 

“Why would you…? That’s…” His face darkened, his eyebrows drawing together. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
 

Worry crept along her bare arms, colder than the chill. “Caz.”
 

“I don’t get how that’s a joke. Do you
ever
say anything you actually mean?”
 

“That’s not fair—”

“Nothing you said to my dad was true last night. And I fell for it.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “Nothing you say at the firehouse ever means anything. It’s all joking with you. Even with patients. When they’re scared, you just brush them off.”
 

It was Bonnie’s turn to draw back. “What?”
 

“You don’t listen. Maybe you don’t listen to anyone.”
 

She felt herself wince. “It was just a
joke
.”
 

“Come on, Bonnie.” Caz stood, standing naked without shame in front of her. She could almost see the heat rising from him, and it wasn’t desire or lust like it had been last night. The night before, his hands had been wide and strong, giving her nothing but pleasure. His mouth had been firm and insistent, teasing her to heights she truly had never known before.
That
would have been the thing to tell him. That’s what she should have said. She shouldn’t have made a stupid crack about her virginity. It
wasn’t
funny. She got that.
 

Now his hands were tight at his side, and she could see the strain in the muscle that jumped in the side of his jaw. His mouth was a hard line, no sign of the man who’d made her moan in the dark.
 

“I’m sorry?”
 

Caz lifted one eyebrow. “That’s it? A question?”

Bonnie scrambled into a sitting position, wrapping the sheet around her as she went. It was still tucked in at the bottom of the bed, though she wasn’t sure how that was possible, given the way they’d swum through the sheets the night before. She wasn’t as easily confident in her body, not like he was. She couldn’t just sit unclothed with Caz Lloyd, in his house, while he watched her with those angry eyes. “No. Not a question. I’m sorry. I thought it would make you laugh.”
 

His voice was softer, but he was still far away. “It wasn’t funny. If it had been your first time, I would have been different with you. Slower. More gentle.”
 

She tried a smile. “You were gentle the third time.”
 

Caz didn’t smile back. “You made me think I’d hurt you.”
 

Shaking her head, Bonnie held out her hand in the hope that he would take it. “You didn’t. You were perfect.”
 

Her hand just hung there between them. He didn’t take it. “You can’t just lie to take the pressure off something.”

“Hang on a sec, buddy.”
He wasn’t her buddy—not that…
“You can’t call a joke a lie.”
 

“Yes, I can. And I do.” He stepped into his jeans, yanking them up unceremoniously. Then he tugged on a light blue T-shirt that made his eyes seem even icier. “Tell me how you feel about me.”
 

Oh, no. She had no idea how she felt about him. Not a clue.

“Come on, you’re overreacting,” she said, knowing she probably shouldn’t. But he was. It wasn’t a big deal. She’d teased him, and he hadn’t liked it. She’d try not to do it again. That was all he could ask for, wasn’t it?

“You don’t even know, do you? Do you ever have
any
honest emotions?”
 

It felt like a slap. “What?”
 

“I saw your face the other day, with the ducks.”
 

The
ducks?
He was going to bring them into this?
 

“You were upset. And the one thing you wouldn’t do was show it.”
 

Bonnie swung her shoulders in small circles, suddenly feeling the tension she was carrying in them. “I was totally fine.”
 

She hadn’t been fine, not even a little. They’d had a call of ducklings in a drain. The engine had been assigned, but she and Caz had been in the area, and they took the call. Ducks stuck in storm drains were common in the spring. They had a special long-handled net they kept folded under the jump seat just for that purpose. Caz had chased the mama duck across the street and over to the pond in Murray Park. Using the net to encourage them, Bonnie had herded the six ducklings across the busy street while Caz blocked it for her. With soft little plops and happy chirps, the babies had followed mama into the pond. A happy ending. Two couples and three families out for a walk stopped to watch. Two of the parents filmed their kids watching the ducks. Everyone was laughing.
 

Then a little girl shrieked. “It’s gone! Something took it! Mommy!”
 

They all followed her pointing finger. More children’s screams followed as, one by one, the ducklings were grabbed and swallowed by the giant koi that Darling Bay City Hall was so proud of.
 

It had been terrible. Bonnie herself had wanted to scream. She’d picked up two rocks and then stood there juggling them awkwardly in her hands while the parents’ eyes begged her and Caz to do
something
, anything, to stop the carnage. She couldn’t throw the rocks—they’d just hit the ducklings. They couldn’t go in the water—the ducklings would panic and bolt. The mama duck swam frantically, quacking her alarm, as—one by one—all her babies were taken.
 

Then they’d had been dispatched to standby at a possible trench rescue (it hadn’t been one—just a guy who trapped his leg while digging in his backyard) and they’d had to drive away from the crying children and aghast parents. Bonnie’s hands had been shaking, and she’d been glad Caz was driving. She’d felt daggers behind her forehead, pain that might have been tears, pain she would never admit to. Over
ducks
, of all things. Three CPR failures in a row, she felt fine. But ducks, apparently, broke her.
 

At the station, she’d popped three Excedrin Migraine and then made “Why did the duck cross the road?” jokes while she made chicken Marsala that night. She felt the headache throb as she cut the meat.
 

Now, Caz just stared, his arms rigid at his sides. “I understand pushing back the feelings we have about people. If we felt everything normal people feel in our job, we’d go crazy.”
 

It was true. That’s why she didn’t.
 

He went on. “But you almost melted down after the ducks. Your voice shook for an hour afterward. I bet you didn’t know that.”
 

She hadn’t. “I was—”
 

“That night, in bed, you had a nightmare, do you remember that?”
 

“No, I didn’t.”
 

“You were crying.”
 

“I was
not
.” Over ducks? Her? Really?
 

Caz rolled his eyes. “I was an inch away from you on the other side of the partition. I could hear you.” He looked down and then back up. “I thought about going to you, but you stopped as fast as you started, and then your breathing was deep again.”
 

So intimate, to know each other’s sleep this well. It was almost more intimate than the mostly not-sleeping they’d done the night before. “I don’t remember that,” she said. She did, though, remember the raging headache she’d woken with the next morning, and the way her eyes had been puffy. She’d thought it was odd, and she’d taken a few more Excedrin and pushed it out of her mind.