Going for Four: Counting on Love, Book 4 (33 page)

Olivia thought about that. “I’m pretty sure nothing.”

“Then why did you laugh?”

Because this guy with the cute personality was online. “Uh…”

“You’re at work—I should let you go.”

“Yeah, okay, probably. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

She hung up, eagerly putting both hands on the keyboard.

So what’s next?
she typed.

I’m hoping to meet a woman I’ve been chatting with for a while.

She smiled. He was really getting out there. She was happy for him.

It was weird, but she felt like they were friends. In addition to the whole romantic-advice thing, they’d talked about why they liked the movie
Alice In Wonderland
with Johnny Depp and which books should never be turned into movies. They’d debated over whether Skittles or M&M’s were better; why if he could only have one kind of pizza and one kind of beer for the rest of his life, he would want good pizza and bad beer instead of the other way around; why she preferred to think portals for time travel existed but that life on other planets did not. They’d talked about so many things that seemed like nothing, but were actually better than knowing what he did for a living.

What’s the plan?
she asked.

I’m going to invite her to meet me at a restaurant.

After all these lessons and advice, you’re just going to show up at a restaurant. Booorrrringg.

There was a pause. Then he typed,
I guess I’m hoping I’ll be enough with this one. Without all the pomp and circumstance.

Oh. That made her feel bad for teasing him.
I was kidding. Of course you’re enough.

There was no response for almost three minutes. Then he said,
I have to tell you something.

Uh-oh.
Okay, what?

I haven’t been on a date yet.

Oh, boy.
You’ve been faking it with me?

Ha. Ha. I haven’t gotten up my nerve yet to ask out the one I want.

You’re going to be fine. Be yourself. Talk about Skittles.

There was another long pause.

You should come too. Cliff’s. Six o’clock tomorrow night.

Olivia blinked at the screen. She should go too?
Table for three?

She got a smiley face in return. Then,
Not
with
us. Just be there. In case she doesn’t show up or in case she hates me.

He was sweet and funny. No way would this woman hate him.

She hoped.

But yeah, getting stood up would suck. Of course, in
her
case it had worked out great because Cody had been there. Still, getting stood up or having a bad date sucked. No matter who you were.

And she would hate if this guy got discouraged by a bad date. He was trying to be romantic. He wanted to find someone special. She could at least buy him a drink and boost his ego if things turned out badly.

Tomorrow at six. Got it.

The door to the office area of the fire house swung open and she looked up. It was Cody. She hit the button to minimize her screen quickly. And guiltily.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Her heart thumped. He looked so good.

His eyes were bloodshot, he hadn’t shaved today—or maybe for a couple of days—and he clearly hadn’t ironed his shirt.

She wanted to hug him. And do his laundry.

“This is a pumpkin flan.” He set a small ceramic plate covered in plastic wrap in front of her. “And this is—”

“Another cookie,” she filled in with a smile. Besides a new dessert every day, he’d also brought her a chocolate chip cookie.

He nodded and set another plate down. This one had a huge bow on it. The thing was, he didn’t have to try to influence her opinion toward the cookie. They were amazing. They were chocolate chip, but Cody had somehow found and perfected
the
best chocolate chip cookie recipe in the entire universe.

Or maybe it was that he had listened to her rant about finding the right dessert instead of settling for chocolate chip cookies—and that yes, he was the cookie in the analogy—and he was using the whole thing to romance her.

He was
romancing
her. The entire thing made her truly understand the word giddy. And it made her panties wet.

It might be because she was in love with him, but the cookies were truly amazing.

Better than the chocolate soufflé he’d brought to Trudy’s and better than the crème brulée, the caramel apple crisp, the white chocolate raspberry cheesecake, the caramelized banana pudding, the mocha lava cake, the lemon supreme bars, the blackberry cobbler, the strawberry pie, the crunchy pecan bites, the Snickers pie, the red velvet brownies, the almond-amaretto pound cake and the buttered rum cake with the bananas Foster sauce. Fourteen desserts in fourteen days. He was unrelenting.

They were all incredible. And, holy cow, that buttered rum cake was nearly orgasmic. And for her that was really saying something.

She grinned up at Cody. He’d think that was funny.

But he was watching her with a thoughtful and affectionate expression. Her smile faded and her heart swelled. She loved him. And he was showing her how he felt about her. Blatantly. No one brought sweets into Fire House Three without
everyone
knowing about it. And the reason why they were suddenly inundated with desserts was the first thing everyone wanted to know.

“I’m trying to help Olivia realize that chocolate chip cookies are, and always will be, king,” was how he’d first explained it.

King. She rolled her eyes even thinking about it.

“By bringing all these fancy-schmancy holy-shit desserts in?” one of the guys had asked.

“Yep.” He’d met her eyes across the room. “I’m not worried, though. I know where her heart truly lies.”

The look between them had been noticed, and commented on, by more than one of the firefighters.

“Are we gonna have to get the hose out for you two?” one of them had called out.

“Nothing can put these flames out, boys,” Cody had said.

Her
cheeks
had certainly been burning as the house broke out in whistles and
whoo-hoos
.

“Olivia’s way too smart to fall for a guy like you, Chief,” someone hollered.

Cody had winked at her. “Yep, but don’t tell
her
that. I kind of like kissing her.”

He’d done it. He’d publicly declared his feelings. At work. With men he would see every day and who would rib him about it every day if she continued to keep him at arm’s length.

She loved it. So much.

Yes, the chocolate chip cookies were still the best.

“This looks amazing,” she said of the flan.

He nodded. “It’s awesome.”

“But I’m pretty sure this cookie is still at the top of the list.”

He gave her a long, intense look. “Even without trying the other?”

She nodded.

Her heart thudded at the heat and, yes, definitely love she saw in his eyes. “Whenever you’re ready for the ride back to One Man Island, you let me know.”

She had to swallow hard at his emphasis on
ride
. “It was No Man Island.”

“Not anymore.” Then he gave her a wink and sauntered into his office.

He was so damned cocky. So sure of her. So sure of himself.

She took a bite of the flan. And moaned. Yeah, he was king all right. Then she unwrapped her cookie.

Holy crap. He’d put the chocolate chips in the shape of a heart.

Chapter Eleven

The crackling of the flames was still audible, but for the moment, it was far enough away that Cody could relax.

Well, as much as he was able to relax with his entire fucking leg throbbing like a son of a bitch. Of course, plunging down nine steps and catching an exposed piece of metal on the way when the staircase collapsed could be expected to smart a little.

“Jesus, Madsen.” Conner ran toward him and knelt at his side. “You couldn’t wait for your guys to go in?”

“There was a dog.”

The dog that had gone running out of the building the moment Cody had hit the floor.

“There was a dog,” Conner repeated as he examined Cody’s head and shined a flashlight into his eyes. “Idiot.”

“My head’s fine.”

“I disagree. But I don’t think
this
incident is the problem.”

“Thanks,” Cody said dryly.

“But I assume you’re still sitting here because something isn’t fine?”

“My leg.”

Conner glanced at the outstretched limb with the huge rip and the oozing blood. “What else?”

“My wrist hurts a little, but I’m not worried about it.”

“Got it.” He pulled Cody’s boot off, checking for his pulse, assessing his circulation and sensation. “So, I guess you do things the hard way when you need to—running into this fucking building was the hard thing to do. You’re chief. You should have sent someone else in.”

Cody hissed out a sharp breath as Conner moved his ankle and knee.

“And you ran in right behind me.”

“Because my sister will kill me if I let you die and don’t at least get hurt trying to save you.”

“Nice.”

“And I was…wrong.”

Conner’s eyes were on Cody’s leg, so Cody couldn’t read his expression. Cody frowned. Maybe he had lost more blood than he thought. “Did you just say you were wrong about something?”

There was a long pause. A really long pause. Then Conner sighed. “Yeah. I was wrong about you stringing Olivia along.”

Cody looked up at his friend, the surprise as sharp as the pain in his leg when Conner rubbed gauze over the edges, soaking up some of the blood so he could see what he was doing. “What?”

“I was wrong. Sounds like you were both…hanging on tight. To whatever you could have because of your feelings. I didn’t…I didn’t see that. I saw my little sister happy though.”

“Olivia’s a naturally happy person,” Cody said. Then he gritted his teeth as Conner cut up along the seam of his pants to get to his wound. One of them anyway. The worst at the moment.

“She is,” Conner agreed. “But she won’t be…if you’re not around.”

Cody’s voice was tight when he spoke, his leg feeling like it was on fire. “I’ll always be around. But she’s not…breakable, Conner,” he said, referring back to Conner’s own words the last time they’d been in a burning building together.

Conner nodded but didn’t look up. “I’m starting to see that I’m pretty good at this being wrong stuff.”

Again a jolt of surprise went through Cody. Conner Dixon didn’t admit shortcomings easily. Mostly because he didn’t have many. But when he did, he
really
did.

It was nice that he realized it.

Conner got to the point on his leg where the pain was most intense. “Fuck,” he muttered.

The wound was gory. The skin was pulled back, bloody and raw. And it was deep.

“You got muscle, man,” Conner said. “And a big vessel. Fuck.” Conner applied more pressure as he pulled a tourniquet from his bag.

Cody tried to distract himself from the pain. Besides, he wanted to have this conversation.

“Listen,” Cody said. “I know that it’s hard for you to believe that I’ll be there for Olivia. I understand. I’ve fucked up in the past. I haven’t appreciated what I had. I’ve definitely taken the easy road. But—”

“Knock it off.”

Cody stopped and looked at his friend. “What?”

“You’re a great guy, Cody. You were an ass when you were twenty, but who wasn’t?” Conner looked up. “Ashley would never have told you to fuck off. She should have. But she never would have.”

Cody didn’t know what to say. If Conner were the one lying here with a bloody, gory leg, he’d blame his friend’s words on shock. Maybe Conner was still suffering from knocking his head when he’d fallen into that basement.

“You okay, Conner?” he finally asked.

“Yeah. I’m good. I was thinking back to what I told you when I was stuck under the totem pole.”

Cody couldn’t help but grin at that condensed description of the events. “Yeah?”

“I told you that I felt good knowing that all the girls would be taken care of. And that I knew you would take care of Olivia. And you’d find her the right guy.”

Cody nodded.

“I was right on that one,” Conner said. “You found her the right guy. You.”

Cody was having a hard time swallowing. He would be with Olivia no matter what anyone else thought, but knowing that Conner was okay, that he actually thought Cody was the right guy—that meant more than he had even realized it would.

“And Olivia
will
tell me to fuck off. As you witnessed,” he said, his tone light.

Conner grinned. “I did love that.”

Cody grinned back.

“But seriously, that helped,” Conner said. “I’ve never seen Olivia feisty like that. Knowing that she can do it, and that she will do it with you, also makes it easier for me to trust that she’ll be okay.”