Strike a Match

by Fiona Riley

  “Sasha, they’re beautiful.” And heavy—there was probably thirty or more flowers in this arrangement. If she got another one of these anytime soon, she’d have to start weight training again.

  Sasha helped her out of her chair and embraced her. “Are you trying to tell me that no one has ever given you a rainbow on your first date?”

  Abby was aware that Sasha was holding her close and making no attempt to put space between them. “I am, in fact, saying just that.”

  “Good.” Sasha pressed a gentle kiss to her lips and whispered, “Can I walk you to your car?”

  Abby hummed against her lips in agreement and appreciation for what was easily her favorite part of Sasha—her boldness.

  They walked hand in hand to the end of the street, Sasha graciously carrying the world’s heaviest bouquet as Abby pressed the automatic starter on her key ring to warm the car up. Sometime between the end of dinner and the beginning of dessert, the temperature had dropped. The light cardigan she’d slipped on during dessert was doing little to keep her warm. She shivered and Sasha noticed.

  Sasha placed the bouquet on top of the car and pulled Abby to her chest, rubbing her hands up and down Abby’s arms and back to warm her. The affection appeared to come easily from Sasha, like an extension of herself. And it felt totally normal, which would have alarmed Abby if it didn’t also feel so damn good. She purred involuntarily and Sasha let out a low chuckle just under her ear. She shivered again but for an entirely different reason this time.

  “We spent all night talking about everything and nothing and at no point did we talk about what happens next.” Sasha’s lips were on her neck and Abby wasn’t sure if that was a rhetorical question or not.

  Sasha’s lips were closer to her ear now, working their way up her neck as she asked, “When can I see you again? That is, assuming you had fun and want to do this again.”

  “Well this isn’t exactly torture.” Abby closed her eyes and breathed in Sasha’s intoxicating scent.

  “So sometime next week?” Sasha worked along her jaw and paused before kissing her lips, leaving her waiting. Abby hated waiting almost as much as she hated being late and talking about money.

  “Sounds great.” Abby leaned forward and kissed her, savoring the taste of Sasha on her lips. Sasha was just the right amount of playful and sensual—she kissed deeply and then flitted away before coming back and taking control of Abby’s tongue. It was a skilled dance that Abby wanted to try again and again.

  Abby realized she was pressed against her car when she felt it idle and turn off. They must have been kissing long enough to outlast the automatic starter timing window, but it felt like no time had passed at all.

  Sasha laughed and Abby felt a little weak in the knees—and turned on. A lot turned on. It was a complicated feeling.

  “I guess you’ll have to restart your car.” Sasha cupped Abby’s face and kissed her slowly once more. “Unless you feel like you’ve warmed up a bit…”

  Abby followed Sasha’s mouth as she leaned back to separate them. She stole another kiss before nodding. “Yup. Definitely warmed up.”

  “Good.” Sasha ran her thumb along Abby’s lower lip and Abby contemplated inviting Sasha back to her place to see what the rest of Sasha’s fingers felt like on her skin. Thankfully Sasha saved her from her horny self by politely ending the night. “I had a great time. I’ll give you a call next week so we can get together again, but it’s my treat round two. Fair?”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” She was. This night had been more fun than she had anticipated. And hot. Because evidently on top of being sexy as hell in her bunker gear, Sasha was also funny, charming, and a fantastic kisser. Abby didn’t want to admit it, but if Sasha kissed her like that at the end of their next date, she’d probably let Sasha make all the decisions ever.

  She watched Sasha walk away and made no effort to look anywhere other than at her impeccable ass. God, she had to get laid.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sasha tapped her fingers on the desk in her parents’ den and thought about Abby for the umpteenth time today. They had spoken a few times on the phone and texted since their date last week, but they hadn’t set up a formal second date. Sasha was beginning to wonder if Abby was stringing her along which baffled her because she had seemed really into the date. She was clearly really into the kissing if those delicious noises she was making up against her car were any indication. And yet, they still didn’t have anything on the books. Sasha wasn’t used to being in this position—she was usually the one who didn’t call back or skirted a second date. She decided this was a humbling experience and not one that she enjoyed very much.

  Before she could give it any further thought, she picked up the phone and dialed Abby.

  “Davenport Charitable Foundation. Abby Rossmore speaking.”

  “That’s a very official way to answer the phone, Abby.” Sasha leaned back and put her feet up on the desk. Her mother was out grocery shopping and her father was napping—otherwise she wouldn’t dare put her shoes on anything in this house. Rules were rules.

  “Sasha. Hi.” Sasha decided it sounded like Abby was smiling when she said that. She tested the waters a little.

  “Hi, yourself. How’s work?” Abby had given Sasha her work number after a few dropped calls last week. Abby had told her that even though she worked in a busy area downtown, the building she worked in was mostly cement, an architectural eyesore that had next to zero cell phone reception.

  “Oh, you know, work-like.” Abby’s tone was playful, so Sasha decided to go for it.

  “Listen, I know it’s sort of short notice but I’m giving a little presentation at the Ashfield Elementary School by your office later and was hoping you could stop by. Maybe we could grab a quick lunch after if you have the time—there’s a really cute restaurant right around the corner.” Sasha knew this was a gamble but when Casey called in sick and asked her to fill in for him this morning, Abby was the first person she had thought of. Maybe this would be the jumpstart she needed to see Abby again.

  There was a pause before Abby answered. Sasha’s heart sank. She knew it was a long shot, but she had been hopeful.

  “What time?”

  Sasha fist pumped in celebration and nearly fell out of the chair in the process. “I’ll be there around eleven fifteen, and the presentation is about thirty minutes long. It’ll be fun.”

  “Sure. Sounds great. Okay, I have to go and move some things around on my end, but I’ll be there.”

  Sasha felt like it was Christmas morning. “Awesome. Cool. Okay, I’ll make sure they have a visitor pass for you at the main office. Just bring your ID so you can get in.”

  “Will do. See you later, Sash.” Abby ended the call and Sasha’s father cleared his throat behind her.

  “You know, you’d be a hell of a lot less likely to fall your ass out of that chair if you didn’t have your feet on your mother’s antique desk.”

  Sasha cringed and lowered her feet to the floor, giving her father a pleading expression. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

  “What’s in it for me? The only entertainment I get around here is watching your mother chew you out.” Her father laughed and coughed. He took in a steadying breath of his oxygen and stretched out on the couch.

  “I happen to have on good authority that Mom is hiding a stash of your favorite cookies above the fridge by the Tupperware. I might be inclined to help a few fall into your mouth if we can come to an agreement.”

  “Always by the Tupperware…she’s so sneaky.” Her father shook his head and gave her a sly smile. “Deal. But I want the deets on the phone call, too.”

  “No way, that was not part of the negotiation.” Sasha waved her finger at her father. “No freebies.”

  “Let me remind you that I was innocently napping here when you decided to make a phone call within earshot. It’s not my fault that you didn’t consider you might be interrupting my slumber. I’m a dying man, Sash. I need my beau
ty rest.”

  Ouch. That hurt. Her father never shied away from the reality of his situation. His bluntness was usually accompanied by his trademark humor and sarcasm, but it was still a bluntness that pained her and her mother. She wondered if this was how he coped with his decline; he tackled this head-on just like every obstacle he had ever encountered. It was moments like this Sasha was reminded of why he was her hero.

  “Okay. Fine. But only because I don’t trust you to keep quiet with cookies alone.” She smiled more for herself than for him, hoping to pull strength from it.

  “You’re probably right about that.” Her father pulled the blanket up higher on his chest. “Go on…”

  Sasha spun the chair around so she was facing him entirely and she lounged backward, placing her hands behind her head

  with a yawn. “Casey called out this morning and asked if I could cover his fire prevention chat at the school. I may or may not have agreed when I recognized that the address was close to Abby’s work.”

  “You sly dog, you. That sounds a little stalker-like, but continue.”

  Sasha shrugged. “I like doing those talks. It was just good fortune that she works nearby.”

  Her father nodded. “And good fortune that she agreed to go. I assume that’s what the arm flailing was, right? She’s gonna show up?”

  “That wasn’t arm flailing, Dad. That was the very confident fist pump of a complete stud.”

  “Sure thing, Sash.” He was humoring her, and she was glad. “You like this girl, huh?”

  “Why do you say that?” She did. But she wanted to know what made him think that.

  “Well aside from the arm flailing—”

  “Victorious fist pumping,” she corrected.

  “Yeah, whatever. Aside from that, you sounded nervous and all giggly. And you twirled your finger through your hair like a total girl.”

  “I am a girl,” Sasha pointed out. “And I so totally did not.”

  “You did.” Her father shifted against the armrest of the couch and adjusted his pillows to prop himself up. “You like her and you twirled your hair like a giddy little schoolgirl when she said she’d meet you for lunch.”

  Sasha frowned. “Was it that obvious?”

  “Probably only to me and anyone with eyes and ears.”

  “Oh, good. So, no then.”

  “Right. Not obvious at all.” He winked at her. “Now about those cookies?”

  She stood up with a stretch and headed toward the kitchen. “On it.”

  “Don’t forget the milk,” her father called out from the living room and she smiled. Her firefighting gig afforded her a lot more time to spend with him during the week and gave her mother the much needed break to work part-time or get errands done or have an afternoon to herself. Truthfully, she really loved these moments with him. She had almost passed on the chance to fill in for Casey today because it was her afternoon with her father. But it would only be a couple of hours, and like her father so keenly pointed out, she was kinda really into the idea of seeing Abby again. Kinda. Really.

  “Sasha. Did yah get lost out there?” Her father interrupted her daydream with his thick Boston accent. “Don’t make me have to hobble my broken ass in there for nothing. You better be bleeding or dead or I’m not getting up. My shows are about to start.”

  “Sorry, Dad. Be right there.” She grabbed the cookies and ignored the Post-it left on the box by her mother, warning her to only give her father a few at a time. She added an extra one to his plate for good measure.

  *****

  “Do you guys know what this is?” Sasha held up something that looked like an alien mask and the kids all oohed and aahed. It was adorable. They were so captivated by her.

  “This is an SCBA. That stands for self-contained breathing apparatus. Do you know what we use this for?”

  “To breathe in a fire?” a little blond girl from the front row called out.

  “Exactly. And do you know why we use this instead of an oxygen tank?”

  The children looked around at each other. From her vantage point in the back of the room, Abby could see two little girls in

  the back of the classroom wiggle in their seats. They had been talking excitedly to each other when Sasha first pulled out all of

  her gear.

  “C’mon. Take a guess,” Sasha encouraged the class. “Do any of you have grandmas or grandpas that use oxygen at home?”

  A few hands went up.

  “Have you seen this little symbol on a sign they have on their front door or somewhere in the house?” Sasha held up the image of a little flame in a diamond shape.

  One of the little wiggly girls in the back nodded and stood up. “That’s the fire symbol. Momma says no firecrackers at Grammy’s house because it’s dangerous.”

  “Right.” Sasha smiled and pointed to the sign again. “This symbol means something is flammable. Oxygen is flammable in a fire—so we use this SCBA which has compressed air instead of pure oxygen to breathe safely while in a fire.”

  “Like the people in the water? In Finding Dory?” A little boy pointed to his shirt with a cartoon fish on it.

  “Sort of. That’s a scuba tank”—she spelled it out for them—“and the extra letter means underwater. But it’s the same idea, just a different mask.” Sasha held the mask up a little higher to show the class. “Okay, who wants to see what it looks like on? It makes me sound a little funny, wanna hear?”

  The class cheered and Sasha proceeded to don the mask and her helmet. Abby noticed that Sasha had started the talk in some sort of uniform dark blue cargo pants and a polo shirt, but had slowly put on her bunker gear as the presentation went on. She would ask about that later.

  “Okay, guys, you can come up and check out the gear and ask me anything you want.” Sasha sounded a little muffled and far away. Another one of the firefighters off to the side waved the kids forward and knelt to show them a flashing badge thing.

  “She’s great with kids.” A voice to her left drew her attention from Sasha, who was kneeling and letting one of the wiggly girls touch her jacket.

  “Yeah, she is.” Abby looked at the man next to her. His uniform shirt read Burger over the right chest, and she laughed.

  “What?” He looked down at his shirt. “It’s a funny name, I know. I’m Aaron.”

  She shook his extended hand and nodded. “I’ve heard about you, Aaron.”

  He puffed out his chest, apparently taking her comment as an invitation to flirt. “Oh yeah? Well it’s all true. I’m pretty amazing.” He paused, seeming to reconsider his statement. “Well, it’s all true if it’s good. You know, all the stories of me being brave and heroic. Wait, who told you about me?”

  “I did.” Sasha rested her helmet on her hip, her arm draped over it and her jacket unbuttoned, exposing her suspenders. Abby remember the last time she had seen Sasha in those suspenders and was sad to see she was wearing a shirt.

  “Oh. In that case, everything she said was a total and complete lie.” Aaron was blushing. “She embellishes.”

  Abby gave him a sympathetic look. “So the cookie story wasn’t actually true, huh? Because I really enjoyed that one.”

  “Seriously, Sash?” Aaron pouted at Sasha and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re like the big sister I never had. And never wanted, by the way.”

  Sasha gave him a solemn nod. “And you’re like the annoying little brother I never had and am grateful for that fact every day.” She handed him her helmet and stepped out of her gear before passing it off to him. “Put that in the truck for me, would you? I have a meeting with Abby.”

  “Fine. Whatever.” Aaron took her gear and stuck his tongue out at her before turning to go.

  “Hi, Abby.” Sasha adjusted her ponytail and looked perfect, even in her blue ensemble. It fit her well—snug in all the right places—while still looking professional and practical for what she imagined firefighters did when they weren’t all geared up, whatever that was. More questions for Sasha
, she mused.

  “Hi.” Abby had been surprised by Sasha’s phone call, but glad, too. She enjoyed the times she and Sasha spent together. Granted, both times there was kissing. But this might be a nice departure—a midday lunch and get-to-know each other opportunity was exactly the kind of thing Samantha would encourage. Less physicality, more vulnerability. It was a mantra she had introduced to Abby after discussing a dating disaster. Abby liked women. She liked kissing, she liked sex, and she liked all the stuff in between. But her problem had always been opening up to other people, and Samantha had made a point to remind her of that often. Maybe it was time she listened.

  “I’m glad you made it. Tell me the truth, was I lame?” Sasha reached out and touched her arm. “I can take it, lay it on me.”

  Abby wanted to do more than lay it on Sasha. The way she interacted with those kids was adorable—it showed Abby a completely different side to Sasha than the charming lady-killer side she had seen before. It was all kinds of hot, which was exactly the kind of thought process she was supposed to avoid. Bad, Abby, bad. “No, actually, you were really great with them.”

  Sasha beamed. “Did you have a favorite part?”

  “The stop, drop, and roll. That was easily the best part. Very serious business that shimmy demonstration you did on the floor.”

  “I take my job as an educator and public servant very seriously,” Sasha deadpanned.

  “Clearly.” Abby looked down at the hand Sasha still had resting gently on her forearm.

  “I hope you don’t mind. You just look really…touchable.” Sasha met her gaze when she looked up, but made no attempt to move her hand. There was that boldness that Abby was so fond of.