Fire at Twilight: The Firefighters of Darling Bay 1 (13 page)

Tox felt as if he’d gotten an A on a test.

“And the worst part was that I’d missed it entirely. Again. It was like my eyes were so open, and I was so happy that I was in something healthy that I completely didn’t believe any of the warning signs. He would come home late and say that he was working.”

“As a yoga instructor.”

“Yeah.” She laughed humorlessly. “I knew his studio closed at nine, and I believed him when he said he was doing paperwork. Paperwork! Until one in the morning. He was helping someone with her poses all those nights, and I found out later it was always a different someone. So I guess he was working, all right.”

“How did you find out?”

Grace set the mug on the low yellow coffee table in front of them and covered her face with her hands. “That was the worst part.” She peeked at him through her fingers. “He told me.”

“He
told
you?”

“He said he had to come clean before he asked me to marry him. He wanted it to be perfect between us, and nothing would do but total honesty. And the funny thing was, he thought I would be proud of him.”

“He sounds like a dog.”

Grace sat bolt upright and stared at him. “Methyl. You have to go home.”

Tox held out his phone. “Sims sent a message. He’s sleeping on the couch with her tonight. Look at this.”

The picture was darling, a tuckered-out yellow puppy curled into a ball on a blue pillow. Grace held out a finger as if she could touch the dog from her seat. “Okay, good.”

“So yoga-dude.”

“Was awful. It was all terrible. And the worst part was that even as I prided myself for being strong and healthy, and helping other people recover, I couldn’t seem to do it.”

“You were in love with him,” Tox said. He wasn’t that fond of what he felt inside when he said it.

“That’s the weirdest part,” said Grace. “I was. But I realized the person I loved had never existed, and it was more like mourning a death, in a way. I’d been with him for four years, and I’d never had the foggiest idea who he was.”

“But did you have fun?” Tox hated the question even as he knew he had to ask it.

“Yeah,” she said slowly. “We did. That was a good part.”

He wondered if they’d had good sex. And if so, was it merely good, or was it great? He stood, setting his mug next to hers, needing to move around, distribute some of the tension that ached in his bones.

Grace pulled up her knees again and brightened. “What about you, though? Long history of girls chasing you around the fire station?”

“Nah,” he said. “I tend to get involved with the crazies, too. Because of that, I don’t really
do
relationships. You know.” He touched the
nicho
and turned. “How crazy are you nowadays, exactly?”

“I would have said not at all, not anymore.” Grace looked at him, and their gazes tangled for one long moment. “But I’m not so sure now.”

Tox felt something build inside him. A determination of sorts. But it was blended with heated excitement, a fine tremor that made his hands feel jittery. “I should go.”

“I’m probably not crazy enough for you, though. I’m pretty sure about that,” she said, standing. She came forward the two steps it took to reach him. “I’m hardly crazy at all.”

“Hmmm.” Tox lifted a hand and carefully, slowly, so as not to spook her, touched the strand of hair that kept falling over her eye. “Does it count if you’re
driving
me crazy?”

“Maybe.” She tilted her head to the side and rubbed her cheek against his hand. “You
should
probably leave. You’re bad for me.”

He could be so much worse for her, she had no idea. He ran the back of his fingers down the slope of her jaw, and let his thumb rest where it had wanted to all night, right on the plumpest part of her lower lip, exactly where he wanted to taste it again. “I’m good for you.”

“Your nickname is Toxic.”

“No truth in advertising,” he said. “I even helped save your sister. Doesn’t that make me good for something?”

Oh, shoot. Wrong words, wrong phrase. Her eyes widened, and he saw the incident flash in front of her again.

“Samantha … How could I forget? Even for a minute?”

“What, that she’s okay?” Tox trailed his finger down, over her chin, down her neck. Slowly. “She’s fine.”

“I could have lost her … I can’t—”

“Shhh, sweetheart.” The endearment slipped out so easily. “She’s sleeping. We’re the only two people not sleeping in Darling Bay right now, I’d be willing to bet.”

She lifted her chin so that his finger could find an even smoother trail down to the vee of her shirt. He paused at her neck, skimming it. A whisper of touch.

Then, instead of kissing her mouth, he leaned down and kissed there, in that sweet, warm spot, just under her chin. A soft kiss. A reassuring kiss.

But the noise she made in the back of her throat was anything but gentle. With a primal growl, she put her hands on both sides of his head, dragging his mouth up to hers. When they kissed, her tongue met his with a blaze that made him know he was lost.

He wrapped his arms around her, sliding his hands down so that he could cup her deliciously soft derriere. Then Grace shocked him. She lifted one leg, then the other, wrapping her strong thighs around his waist. He held her there, by her bottom. Climbing up him like that, she never even broke the kiss.

“Behind you,” she said into his mouth.

He tried valiantly to take his lips away. “Wha …”

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded, her hands pulling his head back to hers. “The bedroom’s behind you. Go,” she said.

He went.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Grace woke in a happy tangle of legs and sunshine.

It felt good.

She straightened her legs, pushing them against the wall, pressing her toes onto the cool lemon-colored paint.

It was the two extra-long legs that were wrapped with her own that she was concerned with. Heavy, muscular legs.

Screwing her eyes shut tightly, she tried to block out the ray of sun that lit up not only her own face, but Tox’s. His chin was covered with what looked like a three-day beard growth. The hair on his bare chest ran downward, curving in at the sloping muscles of his stomach, headed under the sheet …

No, she had to focus on herself. Take inventory of her mental and physical states, just as she’d trained herself to do. From bottom to top. Calmly.

Her legs felt … weak. Still a little weak. It was a good thing he’d carried her into her bedroom.

The middle part of her body? Well, that had been a workout she hadn’t expected. She was glad she’d been doing crunches. At least her core was strong enough. She grinned to herself at the thought.

Her heart? Oh, no, she couldn’t think about that right now. She knew intuitively that she wouldn’t be able to trust whatever she told herself. A guy like Tox? Last night had been … No one had ever touched her like he had. He’d made her feel like a kitten and a sex doll and best of all, like she was someone he could never get enough of. No matter what she’d done, he’d wanted more. And she’d felt the same way about him. She’d wanted him harder and deeper, and then again. She blushed as she remembered the third “again” she’d wanted. And gotten.

And then, as dawn had broken as rosy as she’d known her cheeks must have been, he’d kissed her to sleep. Quite literally, she’d gone to sleep with his mouth on hers. Breathing each other in.

She’d never known such tenderness.

Yeah, so she just wouldn’t think about her heart. Whatever.

Her head. That was the problem. Her brain. Tox wasn’t good for her. She knew that. In the logical area of her thoughts, she knew that he shared nothing in common with her pursuit of health. He didn’t sleep. He ate fast food, fried food, and way too much sugar. He drank too much coffee. He didn’t take care of a simple injury, making it worse.

And worse, he couldn’t cultivate relationships. Or, in his words, he didn’t really
do
them. That meant he broke women’s hearts. She wouldn’t be one of them. No way.

Still, she felt her resolve slipping. Was it that he couldn’t cultivate relationships with women? Or was it that he wouldn’t? Was it something he could fix? With help, maybe?

She regretted the thought as soon as it flitted through her mind.
This
. She flipped back the sheet only to realize that she, too, was naked as a jaybird.
This
was why she got into crappy relationships with men. Because she let them get away with it.

No more. She’d promised herself that. But she let her eyes crawl over Tox’s sleeping body one more time, as she reached slowly for her robe hanging on the back of the bedroom door. Oh, his legs, so long under that sheet. His feet hung off the end of her bed. The perfect naked chest … Those amazing sea-green eyes.

She gave a squeak as she realized his eyes were wide open, staring at her with amusement.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he drawled, pushing himself up on one elbow.

“Your hair is crazy!” The words were out before she could stop them. “I mean …”

He ran his fingers through his mop of hair slowly. “I do have mad scientist hair in the morning. What are you doing up?”

“Coffee!” she exclaimed. “I like coffee.”

As she ran out of the room, she could hear him laughing behind her.

<>

She thought that maybe by the time she got it brewed and had poured them both cups he would have been dressed and ready to get on with his day. After all, she had to get to the clinic to post that she would be closed for the day and get to the hospital as soon as possible. She wanted to bring Samantha home and watch over her, fussing over how many blankets to pile on and making her take anti-inflammatories until she was strong enough to answer all the questions Grace had stored up for her.

Yeah. Maybe when she brought Tox coffee, he’d be dressed. Ready to head out.

No such luck. When Grace ventured back in the room that still smelled like warmth and sex—their sex—he was sitting up, leaning on her headboard as if he’d been born to do it, flipping through a Yoga Journal magazine.

He held it up. “You know about this kundalini stuff?”

“I’ve heard of it.”

“Shoot.” He let out a low whistle, which she thought was related to his thinking about the Svadhistana until she noticed his eyes weren’t on the magazine anymore. Instead, he appeared intently focused on the way her yellow silk robe parted when she leaned to hand him his cup.

“So,” she said briskly. “Do you have to work today?”

“Nope. I’m on my four-day.”

Well, so much for that method of getting him out of her house. She
did
have to get him out, right? She couldn’t let him stay. No. She couldn’t. For a moment, though, she couldn’t remember why not. The X-rated images that danced in her mind, both of what they did last night and what she still
wanted
to do to him, made her feel like she should just let the robe slip open a little more.

So she did. Really, it was an experiment. Grace was kind of required to see if what they’d had last night wasn’t just a product of too much heightened fear and emotion after her sister’s crash.

So she twisted as she reached for her cup, tugging the clip out of her hair at the same time. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders. When she turned to meet Tox’s gaze, she made sure she twisted back a little too far. The silk of the robe was slippery. It never did stay together the way it was supposed to.

She bit her lower lip and then wet it with her tongue, never letting go of his gaze.

Something in his eyes—he reminded her of something … an animal of some sort.

As he launched himself at her with a roar she realized what it was. He was a huge jungle cat, ready to take down its quarry.

And he took her down, hard. She was flat on her back on the bed, robe thrown to the floor, condom in his hand and then on, and he was in her, without preamble or discussion. And as he moved in her, so fast, so
hard
, and his eyes stayed on hers. Mine, his eyes said. Mine, mine,
mine
.

She knew her eyes said the same thing back to him.

She also knew she’d regret it later. She’d probably regret nothing more.

But now, for this moment, as her fingers dug deeply into his back, moving to match his thrusts, she was his, and he was hers, and nothing had ever felt so right. Ever.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The next time Grace got out of bed, she was more determined. The hospital. That’s where she had to be.

She showered, and by the time she got out, Tox was pulling on his shirt. “I gotta go see a man about a dog. Literally.” He stood. “Walk of shame time, I guess.”

She smiled. “At least you’re not in heels.”

He stuck out a leg and examined his boot. “What? I could pull that off.”

Grace had no doubt he could. “I like a man in drag,” she said. “It’s hot.”