Ride the Fire (5 page)

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Authors: Jo Davis

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Romantic Suspense, #Contemporary Romance, #Suspense, #Fire Fighters

BOOK: Ride the Fire
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Sean stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel off the bar on the wall, and briskly dried himself from head to toe. After getting off shift at seven this morning, he’d gone straight home, stripped, and stood under the hot spray, washing away the grit from the river. Lord, it had felt good.
When finished, he hung the cloth over the bar again and padded into his bedroom. A pair of black boxer briefs lay on the bed next to his jeans and he snatched them, pulling them on. The jeans were next and he yanked them up, leaving the top button undone. He’d just started for the dresser to find a shirt when the phone rang, shattering the peace and quiet.

Reversing direction, he strode to the nightstand and grabbed the receiver from its charger. “Hello?”

“Sean, my boy! How are you?”

Sean smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. “Hey, Uncle Joe. Doing okay. How are you and Aunt Clara?” His late father’s seventy-one-year-old brother and sister-in-law were just about his favorite people in the world.

Joe snorted. “Same shit, different day, kid. Can’t complain too much, ’cause we’re still here on this earth.”

“I can relate. So, what’s the news from Texas?”

“Oh, a fair bit. First, Clara wanted me to call and see if you’re coming for Thanksgiving this year.” His uncle paused, voice growing soft. Concerned. “You know how we hate for you to be alone, son, and your cousins would love to see you.”

Sean cleared his throat. “I know. And I appreciate it. The truth is, though, I’m scheduled to work this year and I don’t have another day off to spare. Wish I did.” He hated for his aunt and uncle to worry. God knew they’d done enough of that on his account. “But we’re having a feast at the station, so you guys don’t have to be concerned about me.”

“Well, that’s all right, then. Your aunt’s been after me to find out and I told her I would. Maybe you can come at Christmas.”

“We’ll see.” He didn’t like putting them off. For his own good, he had to stop isolating himself.

“How’re the AA meetings coming, son?”

Shame washed over him, but he managed to hold his voice steady. He hated how he’d let his only family down. “Productive. Therapeutic.”

“You hate the hell out of them.” His uncle had a way of cutting through the bull.

“With a passion.”

“Someday you won’t have to go anymore, or at least not as often. I have faith in you. We all do.”

“Thanks, Uncle Joe. How are Eddie and Alicia?” he asked, referring to his cousins.

The diversion worked. Joe launched into an animated discussion of his and Clara’s grown children and all the grandchildren, and what wonderful accomplishments each of them made in the past few months. Sean was truly happy for them, but he couldn’t help but be reminded of his official status as the family disaster. Which wasn’t his sweet uncle’s intention at all.

By the time they said good-bye, Sean’s ears were ringing and he breathed a small sigh of relief as he hung up the phone. Forgoing the shirt after all, he headed barefoot into the kitchen and inhaled, grateful that he’d set up the timer on the coffeepot last night. Coffee was quickly becoming a replacement for the booze, but if that ended up being his worst vice, he’d consider himself a fortunate man.

He poured himself a cup and then settled in his favorite recliner with the morning paper he’d fetched from the driveway when he got home, and didn’t move except to refill his mug on occasion. He read until almost noon, when a knock at the front door interrupted his solitude.

“Now what?”

More curious than annoyed, he folded the paper, set it on the table next to his chair, and went to answer the door. He didn’t get many visitors. Out of habit, he looked out the peephole first, and his eyes widened—partly in surprise, and mostly because of the rush of pleasure that went due south.

Suddenly, he was nervous, and this was the last person he wanted to realize that. Opening the door, he fixed a pleasant smile on his face. “Eve, what a surprise. I thought I was picking you up at seven. We’re still going, right?”

“Um . . .” Eve blinked, blue eyes drifting from his face to his chest, and lower still. Her gaze snapped up to his and she gave a shaky laugh. “Of course! But in the meantime, I figured you might need these.” She thrust out a hand.

Sean was barely aware of the small items he took from her grasp. Much more important was the electric zing that shot through him at the brush of their fingers. And the fact that she’d been checking him out. Really looking him over and not bothering to hide it.

Me. A man more than ten years her senior. Does she like what she sees?

God knew he appreciated Eve as a man does a woman, and his body was coming alive as it hadn’t in years. Yawning awake like a bear ravenous from a long, cold winter in hibernation. His cock began to fill, harden painfully in his jeans, and he prayed she didn’t notice. Christ, he was staring at her like a complete fool.

With an effort, he forced his attention to the items he held. “My wallet and sunglasses? Where did you find these?”

“I didn’t.” She shrugged. “Val found them in the men’s restroom when he came in for B-shift. I offered to bring them by here, but I went home and changed, ran some errands first. Hope you haven’t needed them.”

“No, I haven’t gone anywhere.” He smiled. “Guess I forgot to pick them up after I changed out of my wet clothes earlier. Thanks for bringing them.”

Her answering smile lit her beautiful face. “You’re welcome.”

“Jesus, where are my manners! Come in for a while?”

“Sure, I’d like that.”

Moving aside, he let her in and closed the door. While Eve made a circuit of the living room, curiously examining her surroundings, he admired a much better view.

Curly dark hair fell to her shoulders over her black jacket, and he wondered if it would be as soft as it looked as he ran his fingers through the silky mass. Her pointy little chin, pert nose, and long lashes were the icing on a pretty, sweet profile—yet the woman was anything but dainty. Her body was long and lean, not an ounce of fat on her frame. Her jeans hugged a high, round ass that flexed as she moved, and his mouth watered at the thought of digging his fingers into the supple, bronzed flesh as he pounded into her.

Oh, God, stop it!

Eve wasn’t just a gorgeous package; she was mentally tough as well. The woman took no crap from anyone, even her own captain when she knew she was right. She was an excellent firefighter and paramedic, strong as any man. Had to be in order to pass the strenuous physical tests. He’d seen her in action many times over the years, and she never ceased to make him proud.

She was an intriguing mix of strength and femininity, and he was mesmerized.

“Sean?”

He shook himself. “I’m sorry. What?”

“I said you have a lovely home.”

Glancing around, he tried to see the place through her eyes. “Thanks, but it hasn’t been a home in a long time. I’ve been thinking of selling.”

“Really? I can’t picture you stuck in town.”

“Me, either, which is why if I do sell, I’ll probably move to another place with acreage so I can take the horses. It’s just . . .” He sighed. “When Blair and I got married, she took one look at this house and the land, and had to have it. I couldn’t afford the mortgage back then, on a firefighter’s starting salary, but Blair’s family is old money. And what Blair wanted . . .”

He trailed off, feeling incredibly disloyal despite the old barb that remained under his skin over the matter.

“Blair got,” Eve finished.

“Yeah. It always seemed more her home than mine, even when Bobby and Mia came along. Still does.” He sucked in a slow breath, aware that he’d mentioned his children without falling totally apart. That was progress, for sure.

Her gaze reflected complete understanding. “I know what it’s like to need a fresh start, and if this is what it takes to make you happy, go for it.”

“Do you know? Really?” He studied her, suddenly aware that for all the years they’d worked together and been friends, he knew little of her background. Her life outside the station. Oh, he knew her mother was still alive and they were close, and he’d heard Eve talk about her dates sometimes. But not much else. Eve was a private person, and he felt honored that she’d opened the door even a crack.

“Yes. Rain check on that subject?”

“Absolutely.” He hesitated. “Want to meet Elvis and the gals?”

“Who’re they?”

“Let me put on a shirt and some shoes, and I’ll show you. Unless you have to rush off?”

“No, I’m good. I’ve got nothing going on this afternoon that can’t wait.”

“Great!” He jogged to his bedroom, feeling like a teenager trying to impress his first date.

The clearheaded, straitlaced part of his conscience demanded to know what he was doing, encouraging her to stay when he was feeling a great deal more than just friendly toward her. The side of him that was sick of being lonely beat that pesky wimp into submission.

Quickly, he yanked on a T-shirt that hung low enough to hide his erection. He hoped. After pulling on his socks and shoes, he hurried back to Eve, taking her hand. “This way.”

He led her through the kitchen and out the back door, onto the deck overlooking the back acreage. Then across the deck and down the steps, heading toward the gate in the fence that separated the lawn from the pasture.

“Wow, it’s beautiful out here,” she said with enthusiasm as he dragged her in his wake.

“This is the one place I feel at home—outdoors with my buddies.” As he drew her to the gate, he stopped and gestured toward the field with a broad smile. “Meet Elvis, Madonna, Mariah, and J-Lo.”

Four equine heads popped up on cue, dark eyes studying them with great interest. Sean gave a shrill whistle through his teeth, and a chorus of deep-throated nickers answered. The horses began to lumber in their direction, whinnying more greetings.

“Oh, Sean, they’re so pretty!” Her delighted laugh warmed his weary soul. “You’re lucky to have horses. I’m jealous.”

“I’d always wanted some, and when we moved here, Blair wasn’t able to talk me out of them. I started with two quarter horse mares, and breeding became a part-time hobby.”

She glanced at him, puzzled. “Why would she want to talk you out of something you enjoy? I mean, look at them!”

“Horses were never her thing. She hated getting dirty and smelly.” He frowned, uneasy with comparing his dead wife with Eve, even in his own mind. “Anyway, I won that particular battle of wills, though I lost plenty of others. The skirmish over the chicken coop, for example? Defeated, big-time.” He put on a forlorn expression that earned a laugh.

“Chickens?”

“Why not? Fresh eggs, some fuzzy chicks running around—what’s not to love?”

“Oh, let me see . . . chicken poop, the smell, the rooster crowing at dawn and whenever else he feels like it? Sorry. I have to say I’d be with her on that one.”

“And here I had you pegged for a girl who didn’t mind a little dirt and smell when it comes to animals,” he teased.

She arched a dark brow. “I don’t mind and you darned well know it. Take me horseback riding sometime and I’ll prove it.”

“You mean that?” He studied her, excited by the idea. A lazy fall afternoon doing his favorite thing—well, second favorite—with a woman he liked and admired? Heaven.

“I do, and I’d love to take a ride with you.” She checked her watch. “Another day, though. I just remembered I told Mama I’d come by and try to fix the leak under her sink. With her arthritis and bad knees, she can’t crawl around like that anymore.”

“I could come, too, and help you,” he blurted. “I’m pretty handy with fixing stuff.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she said, waving a hand. “You wouldn’t want to spend the afternoon under Mama’s sink and get grilled by her for your trouble.”

“Why would she grill me? You and I have worked together for years.”

Eve looked at him like he’d lost his good sense. “And how many times have we hung out, just you and me, without the guys?”

“Oh.” He deflated some. “I guess I’m a little out of practice dealing with mothers. She’d make something out of us being together, huh?”

“And then she’d be after me like a bloodhound on the scent, despite the fact that I have nothing to confess.”

She doesn’t? What does that mean? That I’m imagining the mutual attraction?

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of his equine friends, who were curious about Eve and hoping for a treat. Elvis stuck his sleek brown head over the fence and sniffed Eve’s front jeans pockets, then moved on to inspect her jacket, completely unmoved by her squeal of surprise.

“What’s he doing?” She giggled, patting the gelding’s smooth neck as his velvety nose whuffed at her jacket.

“Checking for apples or carrots. He knows where I keep them, so he’s saying hello and searching for a snack at the same time.”

“Sorry, boy,” she crooned in sympathy, scratching his big ears. “I’ll bring something next time, I promise.”

The two of them made a hell of a beautiful picture, together in the sunshine, Elvis eating up her attentions like an overgrown dog, eyes half-closed in bliss. Sean couldn’t take his eyes off the scene, and something weird broke loose inside him, rattling around, stealing his breath. He couldn’t have described the feeling if he tried, only knew that this moment would remain etched in his mind as long as he lived.

He really didn’t want her to go, and he mentally scrambled for a way to make it last.

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