Make it Hot (10 page)

She cleared her throat. Talking about her warped family life was the last thing she wanted to do. “You have plenty of time later to learn all there is to know about me. Right now we need to do something about that back pain.”

She shot up from the bed.

“Get up, Hightower. I’m going to have you do some minimal stretching and then I’m going to give you a deep-tissue massage and then I’m going home.”

“But I feel better already. As soon as I saw your face, I felt ten times better.”

She couldn’t contain her chuckle. “And just imagine how much better you’ll feel once I put you through your paces?”

He groaned, but he slowly got up from the bed. She vowed to help him and then get out of there, before she slipped up and made sweet love to the most intoxicating man she’d ever known.

Joel couldn’t believe he had had Samantha in his home and had only managed to get a couple of kisses. At least his back wasn’t bothering him as much and he would be able to keep his appointment with her tomorrow. He wouldn’t miss that for anything in the world. He planned to get her to open up and trust him. He had no idea what was holding her back, but he knew he wouldn’t stop until he broke down all her barriers.

Whether Samantha was willing to admit it or not, she was feeling him. It was time to turn the heat up from sizzling to scorching. The summer was about to get hot, and it had nothing to do with the weather.

Samantha entered her apartment and fell out on her bed. How did she manage to leave Joel Hightower’s place without tasting his delicious, full lips again and running her own lips up and down his hard, taut, muscular body? She floated on her memories of their kisses until she noticed her message light blinking on her phone and pressed to see who called. She would have put money on it being Jenny with her nosy behind.

“Sammie, I was looking through the paper the other day, and I saw they have several physical therapist jobs here in Chicago—”

She skipped the message. Even though her mother sounded pretty sober. She still didn’t feel like listening to the why-don’t-you-get-a-job-here routine.

“Sammie…baby…where are you?” There was a sob and a hiccup. “You know you could come home. I need you. Why won’t you come home?”

Samantha deleted the message.

She had figured out early on how to tiptoe around her mother’s feelings and moods. The first time her mother lashed out at her in a drunken tirade a few months after her father died, it was because she was missing her daddy and tried to talk to her mother about it. The way Veronica had cursed her out that evening was nothing compared to the glass that barely missed her head. She still got the shakes when she thought about her mother’s reaction to her throwing out all of the alcohol in the house during her freshman year in high school.

Samantha let the next message play.

“You’re just one selfish, ungrateful little bitch. That’s what you are, after all I’ve done for you. You could at least bring your little ass home—”

Delete.

She couldn’t take hearing any more of her mother’s hateful, ugly words. Samantha let out a gush of pent-up energy in the form of a sob.

One day she would have to deal with her mother.

But not today
….

She collapsed onto her sofa and stopped trying to block out her memories. She let out deep, long, mournful sobs, and each one reminded her why she could never let herself fall in love with a man who had a dangerous job, a man who could one day leave another gaping hole in her heart. Too bad she had a feeling it was already too late to stop the falling in love part. She only hoped it didn’t end up as badly for her as it had for her mother.

J
oel felt much better the next day. The doctors had been right. There really was no rhyme or reason to the flare-ups. He did know he would be sure to do those stretching techniques Samantha taught him to try and stay on top of things. Being stuck in bed with pain was not ideal.

Not when he finally found someone he wanted to get out of bed for and share his bed with.

With the pain gone for now, he really had no excuse to keep putting off thinking about his possible new life, so he went to visit Hightower Security again. Maybe this time he’d actually go inside.

His father had invested well and had been able to retire early and start his own business. The investments, the company, the Hightower home that had been in the family for generations and Celia Hightower’s former position in the upper administration of the Paterson School district as the assistant superintendent meant that the family never really fit the typical blue-collar cops and firemen mold. Once Hightower Security really started to take off, they all became accustomed to a level of comfort that most folks dream of.

When he entered his father’s office, James Hightower seemed happy to see him. The two of them hugged and shook hands before they settled down.

“I’m glad you’re here, son. I know you didn’t envision yourself working here so soon, but I have to say, if it turns out you can’t return to the fire department, I’d appreciate it if you gave it a shot.”

“I know, Dad. That’s the only thing that makes the possibility that I’ll have to leave my career halfway bearable, knowing that you’ve been wanting one or all of us to be more involved with the company for the longest time.” He cracked a smile he wasn’t feeling.

“Yes. Don’t get me wrong. I love our family’s legacy, and I love that my sons are continuing the legacy…” Pausing for dramatic effect, he continued, “Even those of you who went the fireman route.” The former police officer laughed.

The friendly rivalry between the cops and firemen in his family would never die. Even though the older Hightower was no longer in his job, and there was a small chance that the younger one may never be able to return to his job, when it came to the Hightower legacy and the ongoing battle, they picked sides and still held their roles.

However, Joel didn’t feel like playing out the old verbal fireman versus cops today.

James Hightower must have noticed the change in his son’s mood because he sobered rather quickly.

“You know I started the company because I saw what my job was doing to your mother. She put on a brave front for years, and she still does with all of her sons—her babies—in dangerous jobs. It was hard for her not knowing if her man was going to come home.”

“But, Dad, tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone, no matter what kind of job they have, and if you have to die, dying trying to do good and save lives is the way to go.”

“I know, but for me, after years on the force and years of seeing the fear in my wife’s eyes I decided to start another family legacy, an optional one, still in the business of protection, but a little bit safer.” James shuddered. “And after holding and comforting my wife when she thought she was going lose you…I’m glad I started the company. I never want to see my wife cry like that again. I can’t take it. If she would have lost you—if we had lost you—it would have broken her heart, and her heart is my heart.” Choked up, James shook his head, remembering the night of the accident.

Joel nodded. What could he say to that? Besides, if his father hadn’t started Hightower Security, then Joel really would be stuck.

And Joel couldn’t take his mother’s tears any more than his father could. That’s why he didn’t complain too much when she came over to help out and ended up hovering. It was her way of dealing with her emotions. He got that.

His father patted him on the back. “So, I’d be glad to have you here, son, really glad. With you here, maybe I’d be able to retire earlier and spend some time with your mother.”

Panic set in. “Now hold on, Dad. Don’t try and leave me here just yet. Even if I didn’t go back to fighting fires and joined the company, I would still have a lot to learn.”

“Don’t worry, I’d give you a little time to get the lay of the land. But trust me, when you find a woman you love as much as I love your mother, you’ll be looking forward to uninterrupted time with her.”

He thought of Samantha’s smiling face and the jokes she always used to keep him grounded. He certainly wanted to spend time with her away from everything and everyone.

“I think I know what you mean, Dad.” He couldn’t stop the big old grin that came across his face, and he realized he didn’t want to.

His father folded his arms across his chest and studied Joel carefully.

“Now that’s an expression I don’t think I’ve ever seen on your face before, son.”

“What expression? A smile. You’ve seen me smile before. Maybe not a lot lately, but—”

“No, not the smile. Although, it is good to see you smiling again, damn good. I’m talking about that Hightower-in-love look.” James started chuckling. “Who is she? Do we know her?”

Sure he was attracted to Samantha. What red-blooded man wouldn’t be?

But in love?

His father must be seeing things.

James just continued chuckling over Joel’s puzzled face.

“Must be still new, because you’re acting like you don’t have a clue. Don’t worry, you’ll know any day now. The love bug will hit you smack, dab in the middle of the eyes. The reason I know the look is because I see it every day in the mirror, or when I think about your mother, and recently whenever I look at my youngest son with his new bride.”

No way was his father saying he was walking around here looking all giddy and ga-ga like Jason. His younger brother was on constant grin and crazy in love.

“I think you’re seeing things, Dad. I’m interested in a woman—my physical therapist to be exact. But it’s way too soon to start calling what I’m feeling
love.
I’m interested and I’m in pursuit, yes. In love? Nah. Not yet.”

“Oh, yeah, still new. You don’t know what hit you yet.” James patted him on the back. “How about we drop the conversation until you come to terms with your love TKO? I actually only came in here to say that I’d be glad to have you on board, son. I’m so glad God saw fit to leave my son on this earth and I might have a chance to work with you in the company I built for my boys.”

James hugged him and walked out of his office.

He sat down at the desk.

His desk? One day? Now that was something he never imagined, a nine-to-five day and a desk.

His father’s happiness about having him there somewhat soothed the feelings of uncertainty he was having. He thought about Samantha again and the way she blew up at him and told him that he needed to be grateful he survived the accident and wasn’t paralyzed.

For the first time in months he felt a sense of real thankfulness. He could have died. He could have never had the chance to work so closely with his dad—a man he more than admired and wanted to emulate, minus the whole cop thing—and he would have never had the chance to meet Samantha Dash.

It was time to start counting his blessings and take advantage of them, and it was time to stop wasting time.

“How are you feeling today?” Samantha performed the deep-tissue massage on Joel’s back and talked to him while she worked. She tried to keep focused on the job at hand and not what kind of cologne Joel was wearing.

She was determined to get whatever was brewing between herself and Mr. Surly back on a patient/practitioner track. She could do it. She would do it.

Except, Mr. Surly wasn’t Mr. Surly anymore. Where he was once a sulking, irritable, opinionated-but-still-sexy walking attitude problem, he was now a smiling, devilish, playful, sexy-but-still-opinionated walking, talking temptation.

“I’m doing much better. It’s like you and my doctors said, there will be bad days, but I can manage this and make them occur less frequently. You were right. I should have done the exercises you taught me as soon as I felt the pain coming. I might not have lost an entire day.”

Did he just say she was right about something? Oh, goodness, it was worse than she thought. The man could be downright charming when he wanted to be.

He smiled his dimpled grin with a hint of playfulness in his eyes. She nearly swooned. She fought back the urge to let her knees buckle.

“Well, I’m glad you realize that I was right.” She smirked, expecting him to come back with one of his smart comments—needing him to come back with one of his zingers so he could help her get it together.

But no…He just smiled again.

“So, I’m thinking I still owe it to you to try your little Chicago-style hot dogs so the battle can finally be put to rest and I can win. So can we reschedule our trip to Willy’s?”

Her heart jumped double Dutch in her chest, and her hands all of the sudden felt clammy.

“Oh, sorry, Hightower, when you canceled, we had to consider that a forfeit. You lost this round. Sorry.” Not her best work, but it was a pretty good comeback. She tossed him a smirk and patted herself on the back for the save.

If she stayed focus, she could get things back on track.

He just smiled.

She swallowed.

“Since we didn’t come up with any rules for the contest, and I had to cancel due to illness, I don’t think you can win by forfeit, but if you’re refusing to go through with it, then you can forfeit, by all means, and I win.”

“
Whatever.
No way.” Damn, her competitive streak. “We can do this tonight.”

He really let loose his pearly whites then. “Perfect. How about we each pick up hot dogs from our spots and bring them over to my place for the battle?”

His place?

Oh, no, slick talker.

She had seen what could happen at his place when his back was aching and his mother and aunt were downstairs. No way would she trust herself at his place alone.

“We can have the battle on my turf. You can pick up your little Texas wieners from Johnny’s and I’ll bring the best hot dogs ever to bless New Jersey from Willy’s. We can taste them at my place and then you,
my brotha,
are going down!”

His smile widened and his eyes gleamed. “Sounds like a plan.”

She frowned.

Why did she think he was thinking about something other than hot dogs?

“You look mighty happy for someone who’s about to lose,” she quipped.

“Oh, baby girl, that’s because I have no intention of losing.” He brushed his hand across her cheek and caused a shiver to caress her spine.

She did swoon then, moving with his arm as he pulled it away from her face and stopping herself before completely toppling over.

He grinned and winked. “I play to win.”

She barely stifled the gasp that threatened to escape and leave her with no cool points. He played to win, all right, and she knew he had all the capabilities to win a whole lot more than a little hot-dog competition, a lot more indeed….