Sweet Heat (5 page)

Brandon shook his head. A first date at a bar? And not even a very nice one, at that. Pete was not the smoothest operator. He caught Fox’s eye and the other man rolled his eyes, lips twitching.

“So, I show up and what do I find?
Pam
is not only more like twenty-nine than twenty-three; she’s about fifty pounds heftier than her pic. And not where it counts either.” He blew up his cheeks and curved his hand out from his flat stomach to indicate a round belly. “Total fatty.”

Hollis’s normally jovial smile faded and his brows snapped down in a frown. “What the fuck, man? That’s not cool.”

Pete threw up his hand. “I know, right? It’s like, women can’t ever just be honest about shit. Right, Flem?”

Brandon gritted his teeth, uncomfortable with Pete’s attitude and his inclusion of him in his diatribe. But before he could say anything, Hollis pushed to his feet and stood over Pete, his fists clenched at his sides.

“No, dude, I meant it’s not cool that you’re talking trash about that chick’s weight. That’s really fucked up, Decker.”

Pete snickered through his nose. “You a chubby chaser, Probie?”

Brandon saw Hollis’s shoulders tense and knew if someone didn’t step in, the new guy was going to take a swing at Pete. He didn’t know why the issue was such a raw nerve for Hollis, but he figured since it was his place, he’d better try and defuse the situation.

“Hey, Hollis. Let’s go get those wings. I’m starvin’.” He pushed to his feet and hooked an arm around the younger man’s rigid shoulders. Pete opened his mouth, no doubt to make another crack, but Brandon pointed a finger at him. “Shut the fuck up, Pete. Probie’s right about you being outta line.”

He dragged Hollis back into the kitchen before either man could say another word. It only separated them by a few extra feet, but any space was good at this point as far as he was concerned.

Behind them, Pete grumbled something about sensitive boy scouts, but no one joined his little bitch fest. Everyone turned their attention back to the game.

Brandon pulled the tray of wings out of the oven, checking to make sure they were heated all the way through. He pointed at the vat of sauce on the counter.

“Grab that for me, would you, Hollis?”

Hollis was still staring back at Pete, face scrunched up into an angry snarl.

“Probie.” He shot the word, drawing the kid’s attention. Hollis jumped a little and then swung his gaze around. He shook himself a little.

“Sorry.” He turned and reached for the bucket of wing sauce. “It’s just…” His voice dropped a little. “My little sister’s a big girl, you know? And I’ve watched her deal with dicks like that for most of her life, making her feel like crap because she doesn’t look like some Barbie doll. It just pisses me off.”

Brandon thought of Suzanne’s wide, curvy hips and imagined what Pete might say about her figure. He felt his blood heat with anger not unlike Hollis’s. “Yeah. I get it.”

He didn’t elaborate. He just clapped Hollis on the shoulder, and then they got the wings together.

Forty-five minutes later, Brandon was still thinking about Suzanne when his phone buzzed against his thigh. He fished it from the pocket of his jeans, surprised to see the text notification blinking.

Apart from the guys arrayed around his living room at the moment, there weren’t many people who would be texting him. His family didn’t text; they called… or showed up on his doorstep.

He didn’t recognize the number either. Brow furrowed, he thumbed the message open.

The flowers were beautiful. Thank you.

Brandon felt the goofily wide smile spreading across his mouth as he realized who it must be from. He’d hoped the flowers would make an impression. It had been a little risky, sending her something after she’d brushed him off, but he figured it was less pushy than calling her at work.

He’d made it clear he was definitely interested and left the ball in her court. And now she was texting. Before he could reply, his phone buzzed again.

I would have called to tell you, but I’m at a terribly boring cocktail party and I’m trying to hide.

Brandon pictured her tucked into some corner of a restaurant? Someone’s house? Where did people have cocktail parties? He didn’t know, he’d never been to one. Still, the mental picture made him grin.

His fingers flew over the screen as he typed a response.

See? If you’d agreed to go out with me tonight, you’d be having fun right now. ;)

He had never texted a winky face before. His lips twisted at the way his chest felt full of carbonation as he hit send.

The guys cheered at something on the TV, but Brandon didn’t even notice.

Her response was quick.
Believe me; I’m definitely regretting saying no.

That made his grin get even wider. He got to his feet, fingers flying as he moved away from the couch, toward the kitchen. Even though they couldn’t be overheard, he wanted to put some distance between him and the guys.

Does that mean you’ll reconsider?

Brandon hit send and leaned back against the kitchen counter, sipping his third beer. It would be his last for the night. He might have the next day off, but that didn’t mean he wanted to spend it hung over. Especially if he might be getting a date with Suzanne.

Maybe
, she’d replied.
What are you doing? Please tell me it’s something more fun than listening to a bunch of lawyers talk about tort reform.

I don’t even know what that means. I’m watching the game with some of the guys from the station.
Brandon glanced up, scanning the living room. Everyone was riveted to his big screen, except for Fox, who cocked a brow at him.

He wished he could call her. His thumbs were big and clumsy on the phone’s screen, and he kept having to retype words. But if all she could do at the moment was text, then he didn’t care if he got hand cramps.

Her reply popped up, making him huff a soft chuckle.

I don’t either! But apparently, it’s super important. And so, so, boring.

A second later, a second message showed up.

Station? Are you a cop? Should I be calling you ‘Officer’?

Several vivid fantasies immediately presented themselves at this little bit of teasing banter. Normally, he would have replied with some joke referring to the old rivalry between cops and firemen, but at the moment all he could think about Suzanne Headley and handcuffs.

He shifted, adjusting himself in his jeans as his blood headed south in a hurry.

Brandon thought of a thousand things he could say in reply, all of them sexual in nature, but decided to not go there. Not over text. Not when they hadn’t even talked on the phone yet.

FDNY not NYPD

Ahh
, she texted back.
Hoses not handcuffs. Got it.

“Hey, Flem, what are you smiling about? Your team just fumbled the ball.” Brute’s thick brows wiggled across his forehead.

The other guys turned around to look at him too. Brandon shrugged, though he felt blood heat his cheeks and knew he was blushing.

“Just talking to someone.”

“Oooh, someone. A
female
someone?” V made kissing noises. Brandon strode over and whapped him on the shoulder.

The other man exclaimed and rubbed his arm. “Hey, no bruising the merchandise. Sheila prefers me in top operating condition.”

Fox, Brute, and Hollis guffawed at that, but Pete only rolled his eyes.

“So who’s this ‘someone’, Flem?” Fox made a ‘gimme’ motion with his hand. “‘Fess up.”

He took a second to text Suzanne back so she wouldn’t think he was ignoring her. “I met her this morning when I went to go pay my insurance.”

“This morning?” Pete sneered, knocking back more of his beer. It was a good thing the guy wasn’t driving anywhere. “And you’ve already got that goofy fucking grin on your face.” He shook his head, his mouth turned down at the corners.

“Whatever. Anyway, she works at the insurance place. Waterston Mutual. She’s cute as hell, and funny too.”

His phone buzzed and he glanced down at the screen.
If I told you I wanted to be an Actuary, would you stop texting me back?

He chuckled as he responded:
Not even if I knew what that was.

Brandon had a vague idea it had to do with statistics, but that was about it.

The guys continued razzing him about his ‘woman’, but he didn’t care. He gave back as good as he got. Or almost, anyway. His attention was divided between his buddies and Suzanne.

“Man, you gotta be careful of those ‘professional’ types.” Pete made air quotes when he said ‘professional’. “Real ballbusters.”

Brandon ignored him, as did the others, and texted Suzanne back.

I’m thinking of asking you out again. Will I have better luck this time?

The time between when he hit send and when her reply came through ticked away slowly. It was probably only ten seconds, but it felt ten times as long.

I don’t recall you asking me a first time. ;)

He thought back and realized he hadn’t actually asked. He’d stated they were going to have fun on their date. A bit cocky, maybe. Had that been why she’d turned him down?

Well, it didn’t matter now. Whatever her reasoning had been, she seemed to be warming up to the idea.

Didn’t I? That’s my mistake. Was stunned by your beauty. Will you let me take you out tomorrow  night, Suzanne? Please.

Again, the seconds ticked by like minutes. Finally, his phone buzzed and Brandon’s chest felt tight as he read her words.

Since you asked so nicely… I’d love to, Brandon.

All around him, the guys began to cheer. Brandon had missed what was going on on the screen, but he felt like cheering too.

Chemistry. The word didn’t begin to really explain the whirl of emotions washing through Suzanne as she prepared for her date with Brandon. Her fingers shook a little as she pinned her wild curls up into a loose chignon, leaving several hanging softly around her face.

She knew she was rounder all over than was fashionable. Growing up in the upper class Greenwich circles her parent’s wealth and station had accessed, it had been made clear to her early and frequently. Thankfully, not by her parents. But others had, if not outright commented, at least cast her narrow glances.

It had taken her until she was in her late teens before she’d finally accepted that she was built the way she was built and no matter what she was never going to be skinny as the other girls, or even her own mother. She resembled her maternal grandmother, and eventually she’d realized the blessing of that and grown comfortable in her own skin. All of it.

She’d stopped wishing that her arms were a little more slim, or her hips were narrower, her ass smaller, or her stomach completely flat. As long as she was healthy — and she was, her doctor made sure of that at her annual checkup — then she didn’t stress about her figure. Or what others thought about it.

Brandon didn’t seem to mind that she was soft all over. ‘Was stunned by your beauty,’ he’d said when he apologized for not asking her out the first time. And it wasn’t just words either. Even Christine and Marcel had said that he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her at the office.

And not in a ‘Oh my God, how could she let herself get like that?’ kind of way.

Suzanne knew what that kind of judgment felt like in a gaze, and hadn’t experienced any of that as Brandon had looked at her. No, his eyes had made it clear he appreciated what he was looking at.

She wanted to see more of that look tonight. She wanted more of everything with Brandon: the teasing banter, his sweetness and carefree laughter. Even that brashness… yet more ways he was different from the guys she usually dated. He was confident, even edging into cocky on occasion, but he hadn’t crossed the line to obnoxious and arrogant. They’d texted back and forth for a very long time the night before, and he’d come across fun, laid back, happy, and optimistic. And unconcerned with the constant social climbing and prestige bartering that she’d grown up with.

His attitude was something she’d never really encountered before. She’d been stunned when he admitted to not knowing what things were, unashamed but open to learning something new. Like when she’d brought up her hoped-for career. After she’d explained what an actuary did, he’d clearly grasped the concepts and spoke intelligently about it, genuinely interested. It was more than she got from most people.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun just talking to a guy. Via text, no less.

Suzanne smoothed her hands over her belly, turning to the side to look at herself from all angles. Brandon had said to dress in something comfortable, so she’d chosen a pair of her favorite jeans. They hugged her thighs, hips, and ass without being too tight, and the material had been worn soft.

Her top was watered silk, a rich cream color with not-quite-random splashes of reds, fuchsias, and blacks like a Pollack painting. The long sleeves were slit along the top, tied at shoulder, elbow, and wrist but revealing peeks of her skin in between. The front wrapped around her, creating a low vee and fitting comfortably over her stomach, tying at the side. A matching cream tank top with a lace front worn underneath toned down the amount of cleavage on display.

The depth of the tones in the top made her skin look a deeper, richer brown.

She never wore much makeup, but she spent a little extra time on her eyes tonight, lining and shadowing them to bring out the gold tones in the brown irises. For her lips, she used her favorite brand of liquid lipstick in Berry.

A pair of wedge sandals and her signature dangly earrings completed her look for the night. Casual but cute, with just a bit of subtle sexiness. Suzanne felt both comfortable and confident. Her nerves were jumping, but in anticipation.

It was a vast difference from the way she’d felt getting ready for her disastrous date with Antoine. Her eyes kept sliding to either the watch on her wrist, or the clock on the wall. She had, for probably the first time since she’d started working at WMI, rushed out the door right at five. It was a few minutes after six when she put the finishing touches on her outfit.

Her phone buzzed yet again, dimming her enthusiasm slightly. Suzanne grimaced, letting it go to voicemail. Again. She’d already ignored several calls from Antoine, and at least one from her mother. She didn’t want to think about either of them tonight. Tonight wasn’t about obligations or expectations. It was about her, doing something for herself.

“Listen to your heart, baby.” She could almost hear her grandmother speaking the words. Despite the prick of grief, she smiled, feeling the older woman close to her in that moment.

Brandon had said he would meet her at the 14th Street station. He wouldn’t tell her what he had planned. Suzanne’s heart thrummed like a tuning fork in her chest for the entire subway ride. She tried listening to some bubbly pop music to pass the time, but all she could think about was seeing Brandon again.

What if it was gone? Whatever had been between them in the Billing office at WMI had been sudden and intense. Maybe it had just been situational. A fluke. They had only texted since. Perhaps when she saw him this time, he would just be a regular, good-looking guy.

He caught sight of her first as she stepped onto the sidewalk, calling her name. “Suzanne!” He held up one big hand.

Brandon looked just as incredible as he had that first time. Maybe even better. He wore dark jeans this time with an untucked royal blue dress shirt. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, showing off his muscled forearms. The late spring night was warm, and it wasn’t full dark yet. The light from the streetlamps gleamed on his blond hair. His grin was broad.

It definitely wasn’t a fluke.

As soon as their eyes connected, she felt a frisson of desire curl down her spine. The air felt electrified. The constant bustle and hum of the city around them faded.

Her feet carried her to his side and she couldn’t help the smile that curved her mouth. “Hey.” The word came out a bit raspy. She swallowed.

Brandon’s brilliant blue eyes swept her from head to toe, his grin never wavering. When he lifted his gaze to her face, his eyes blazed.

“You look incredible.”

Suzanne flushed, giving him a little spin and laughing up at the stars speckling the deep Prussian blue sky. She flashed him a teasing look over her shoulder and caught him checking out her ass. The heat of his expression raised every hair on her skin. She gave her hips a little shake. “You like?”

“I think I’d better get you off the street before you cause an accident.”

She looped her arm through his, her smile so big it made her cheeks ache. “You’ll have to tell me where we’re going then. I mean, I suppose you could just let me wander aimlessly around the Meatpacking District but…” She raised her eyebrows.

Brandon chuckled, his thick fingers brushing her knuckles where they rested in the crook of his elbow. “I hope you like spicy food,” he said as he began to lead her down the street. Suzanne felt as if they were alone, despite the other people on the sidewalk and the traffic in the street. Her belly trembled with excitement.

“I love it, actually.”

His eyes lit up. “Really?” He sounded as if she’d just told him it was Christmas. “Excellent!”

Despite his obvious enthusiasm for wherever he was taking her, Brandon shortened his stride to match hers. Once again, Suzanne was amazed at how easy conversation flowed between them.

He told her a little about what it was like working as a fireman. The thought of him running into burning buildings made her heart pound with fear for him, but it was clear from the way he talked about it that he loved his job.

“Is it a family legacy? Are your whole family firemen, or did you totally confound them and they’re all… I don’t know… violinists and personal shoppers or something?”

Brandon’s laugh was incredible, rich and warm like hot chocolate on a cold winter night. Suzanne just wanted to drink it in. He shook his head.

“Neither, actually. Dad’s retired now, but he worked for the Port Authority for forty years. Ma still works as a librarian. I’ve got two younger brothers. One’s in college, the other is an accountant. You two would probably get along well. He’s a math nerd too.” He cut her a teasing look.

She bumped his arm with her shoulder. “I don’t think you have room to be throwing that term around, Mister ‘I’ve seen every episode of Doctor Who that ever aired.’” She snickered, remembering his impassioned texts about the British science fiction show. A far cry from Antoine’s explosion fixation.

“That doesn’t make me a nerd! It just means I have good taste in television.”

They shared a laugh as he directed her to the left, onto 8th Avenue.

“What about you?” He tipped his head down to look at her. “Chip off the ol’ block, or black sheep?”

The mention of her family made her stiffen a little. She was sure she’d probably missed more phone calls from her mother since she’d left her apartment.

“Black sheep.”

Brandon shook his head. “I don’t believe it.”

“Maybe not quite. But both of them would have rather I went to law school and joined my Daddy’s firm.”

Brandon whistled. “Lawyer, huh?”

“Yeah. And my mother owns several boutiques. She’s got locations here in Manhattan, the Hamptons, and back in Greenwich.”

“Wow. Impressive. But so is WMI. They’re practically a New York institution.”

Suzanne flushed a little at this, proud of her job. “Well, it’s just an internship now. But I think they’ll offer me a permanent position when it’s over.”

Off the topic of families, she relaxed somewhat. They chatted about innocuous topics for the next few blocks.

When Brandon stopped in front of The Spice Market, Suzanne’s eyes widened and she looked up at him with a wide, happy smile. He was watching her face, and when he saw her expression, he grinned.

“You like?” His tone was teasing, reminding her of earlier when she’d said the same. Her heart stumbled a beat. It felt intimate, even though it was just a silly joke. As if they already had an inside thing. A moment just between the two of them.

Instead of responding flippantly, Suzanne just nodded. “I do.”

The food was fantastic, flavorful and exotic and delicious. They shared an appetizer of chicken satay that made her moan. Heat flashed in Brandon’s eyes when she’d made that noise and his gaze had dropped to her mouth, shiny where she’d just licked away some of the peanut sauce.

After a lengthy debate, they decided to try the Avocado and Radish salad and the Crispy Pork Belly. Brandon never once looked at her askance while they looked over the menu and she mentioned what foods she’d like to try.

Brandon had an IPA, and she settled on the Ginger Margarita. She’d balked a little at the price at first. She didn’t know how much firefighters made, and she didn’t want to assume he could spend the way her usual dates — other trust fund babies like her — could. But he assured her she didn’t have to worry, and she decided to take him at his word. She only planned on having one cocktail anyway.

Suzanne definitely didn’t want to get tipsy. She wanted to recall every minute of this night.

They lingered over the food for what felt both like a long time, and no time at all. She found Brandon’s work stories fascinating. Funny, scary, poignant… he had experienced the lot. In comparison, her job was epically dull. But they didn’t have any trouble finding things to talk about.

Unlike her date with Antoine, even when they disagreed on something, they managed to debate it in a way that left them both laughing. He convinced her she might be wrong about the complete uselessness of sports, and she got him to admit that sometimes romcoms were a lot of fun. On more serious subjects, their political ideologies and belief systems were remarkably similar… though Brandon considered himself an Independent, and not a Democrat like her.

It was full dark when they stumbled, laughing, out onto the sidewalk. Suzanne felt drunk, though she’d only nursed the one margarita for the entirety of their meal. It was the man with his muscled arm around her waist who was making her head spin.

“Mind walking a little bit more?” His eyes sparkled like the stars above them as he smiled down at her.

“That would be great actually.”

And then she saw where he was leading her and her heart flipped. They were heading for the entrance to the Highline.

Elevated above the city on the old railroad line, the park stretched for over a mile and was one of the city’s beautiful green spaces. There were great views both in daytime and at night. Not to mention vendors serving food, musicians playing music, artists displaying their work. There was a little bit of everything that was incredible about the city.

“Oh.” Suzanne couldn’t think of anything to say. Strolling along the Highline at night was very romantic. Sudden tears stung the back of her eyelids. She wasn’t even sure she could say why.