“Most electrical fires come from short-circuits, overheating ground faults, or arcing. That generally ignites the insulation that’s nearby the wires. They can also travel along the wires, causing rapid spreading.” Blay held his gaze, cocking his head to the side. “Is that what you’re looking for?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I know Sandy’s worried, and I was just trying to find out how serious faulty wiring in a multistory building can be.”
“Fuckin’ serious. I know there’s been a lot of studies done, but to be honest, I haven’t kept up with those outside our continued educational training. Generally, our professional development focuses on what our response is to the different fires, not what causes them. I know there’s something called flame–spread phenomena over wires that’s different from just the ignition. Wish I could tell you more, but that’s all I remember.”
“No, no, man, that’s good. I can let Sandy know she’s on the right track to make sure the wiring in the building is done to code.”
Blay rubbed his chin, shaking his head. “There should be someone from the city, an inspector that comes around and checks that shit. I know that there are different codes for buildings that are over seventy-five feet tall, which I’m sure includes Partridge Tower.”
“Yeah. I’ll let her know that as well.”
“So, are you going to join us for a beer? Or do you have somewhere better to be?”
Catching Blay’s grin, he bragged, “I’ve got a home-cooked meal waiting for me at Sandy’s place.”
“Good for you. She seems like a great girl.”
Bill had been standing nearby and suddenly turned around, his gaze moving between the other two men. “Sandy? You’re having dinner at Sandy’s place?”
Knowing she and Bill were friends, Rory kept his voice steady as he replied with a simple acknowledgment. “Yeah.”
“You know we’re just friends, but damn, Sandy gets around.”
“If you’re such good friends with her, why are you always trying to stir up shit?”
Bill’s hands jerked up in front of himself, and he shook his head. “Hell, I’m not stirring up anything. I saw her outside of some fancy-ass restaurant earlier today with a man who looks like he could buy and sell all of us with chump change.”
Rory heard Blay’s quick intake of breath, but he kept his gaze on Bill. “You know, I heard you tried the same shit with Sean and Harper when they were dating, and that didn’t get you anywhere, did it? If that’s how you treat your friends, it makes me wonder what your motives are.” Leaning closer, he kept his voice low. “But I’ll tell you this right now. I better not hear another insinuation come out of your mouth about Sandy, or you’ll deal with me.”
As he turned around, he caught Blay’s approving chin lift and nodded to his oldest friend. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a beautiful woman and a good dinner to get to.”
Thirty minutes later, he bounded up Sandy’s front stoop and lifted his hand to knock. The door was flung open, and she stood smiling up at him. Work clothes gone, she was dressed in a soft, slouchy blue sweatshirt with the neck cut to hang off one shoulder, the strap of a dark blue exercise bra peeking. Black yoga pants and pink fuzzy socks completed her outfit. Her long hair was piled up on top of her head, held in place by what looked like two chopsticks. Her eyes were bright and her crooked smile enduring. He fought to keep his eyes off the tantalizing skin of her exposed shoulder.
“I know my grandmother always said that a lady should never throw open the door in a rush, but I couldn’t wait to see you.”
He stepped over the threshold and wrapped his arms around her middle, lifting her into the air as he gave her a little twirl. “I couldn’t wait to see you either, Sandy.” He took her lips in a kiss, forgetting dinner and everything else until a loud meow interrupted. Looking down, he laughed. “Okay, Ocee. I get the hint.”
Setting her feet back onto the floor, he sniffed in appreciation. “Wow, what are you cooking?”
“Homemade chicken pot pie.” She had turned to walk into the kitchen, then stopped and looked over her shoulder. “I hope that’s okay. I can cook fancier, but I like simple, down-home cooking.”
“You’ll never find me complaining about a home-cooked meal,” he vowed. “And simple comfort food is perfect.”
“Come on in while I finish things up. I’m really hungry. I only had a salad for lunch at some overpriced, poofy restaurant.”
“Poofy?”
She reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a beer, turning to hand it to him. “Yeah, you know, poofy. Overpriced. Stuffy. The kind of place where people go to be seen or to have business luncheons that they use as tax write-offs. But the food isn’t very good, or if it is, it’s horribly overpriced. I’d so much rather eat at home or go to a place like the Italian restaurant we were at the other evening.”
Bill’s words came back to him, and he was curious. “Do you have to have a lot of business luncheons?”
She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Not a lot. I can’t see wasting money like that. It took a long time to build my business up, and I always have an eye for the bottom line.”
Finding out that she had to watch her spending while building her business had him curious and wanting to know more, especially since that went against what others assumed. “How long have you been in business?” Her eyes sparkled even more, and he could tell he’d hit on a subject near and dear to her heart.
“My senior year of college, I had an internship with an interior design company based out of Philadelphia. They had offices all over the United States and were even branching into Europe. My father kept wanting me to come back to Hope City where he could utilize me in his company. That held no appeal.” As the oven’s beeper sounded, she grabbed two potholders and bent to open the oven door.
Rory’s brain short-circuited at the sight of her ass in her yoga pants. She set the casserole dish on top of the stove and continued to talk, although it took a moment for his brain to catch up.
“But my grandmother was ill, and I wanted to spend time with her. So, I moved back to Hope City, but much to my father’s chagrin, I refused to work for his company or take his handouts.” She dropped the potholders onto the counter next to her and turned to face him, leaning her hip against the counter. Taking a sip of wine, she smiled.
“Don’t get me wrong. I know that my father sent a few of his cronies my way to have me design new office spaces for them. I’m not completely stupid, and I accepted some of their contracts. But I wanted my own business. I wanted to do things my way and make my own money.” Grinning widely, she threw her arms out to the side. “Hence, Carmichael Designs was born!”
“Wow, I’m impressed.”
“Well, it took a while before I could make a down payment on this place.” She wrinkled her brow as she looked around. “It’s not my forever home, but it was in a decent area, and I could afford it. Sometimes, I wondered if I bought it just to drive my father crazy, but I really do like it.”
Soon, they sat at her small table, plates piled high with homemade chicken pot pie, fresh rolls, salad, and if the lemon meringue pie on the counter was any indication, dessert would follow.
“So, you ate at a poofy restaurant for lunch?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I had a working lunch with Anthony Partridge. I was trying to get him to take more of an active role in having someone check over the electrical contractor’s work, but he’s focused on getting the building completed on time and under budget to impress his father.”
Sandy’s forthcoming comments about her lunch made him even more irritated at Bill’s insinuations, but he was thrilled she was talking to him about what was going on in her life.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I talked to Blay before coming here. I was just curious about what an electrical fire might do to a building like Partridge Tower.”
Swallowing, she nodded. “That’s what I tried to impress upon Anthony at lunch, but he’s not listening to
me.” She shrugged and sighed. “I’m going to mention it again to the main contractor, and then I don’t know what else to do.”
“Blay said that there were different electrical codes for buildings over seventy-five feet tall.”
“Really? Let’s see what we can find out after dessert.”
They finished the meal, topped off with a slice of delicious sweet and tart pie that would rival his mom’s. Leaving the dishes, they walked into the living room and settled onto the sofa together while she grabbed her laptop. Quickly Googling, she immediately found information.
“You’re right. Tall buildings require different electrical systems as well as fire alarm systems.”
Leaning over her shoulder to peer at the screen, he asked, “Is that for a particular area or everyone?”
“It says it’s according to the International Building Code in the Building Construction and Safety Code. They define high-rise buildings as seventy-five feet or greater in height. And that’s measured from the lowest level of fire department vehicle access to the floor of the highest occupiable story.” She turned and looked at him. “Without a doubt, Partridge Tower falls under that definition.”
Turning back to the screen, she shook her head slowly. “A lot of this is electrical jargon that I don’t understand. But here’s something that makes sense. There has to be a fire alarm system that incorporates firefighter telephones, fire department radio systems, smoke control, door control, and HVAC damper control. Plus, there’s a whole bunch of other things as well.”
Still looking over her shoulder, he pointed to the screen. “Look here. It says that before bidding, contractors must ensure that the estimator and bidder understand the requirements for the alarm and electrical systems. That would mean that Perkins Electrical Company understands what they’re doing and made an appropriate bid and will do the work according to the code.”
“Yes, if they’re doing things the right way.”
She pinched her lips together for a moment, and he battled the urge to lean forward and kiss her tension away. She closed her laptop and placed it on the coffee table. “Honestly, Rory? None of this comes under my responsibilities for my job or my contract. You’re right. I have to trust that what’s being done is being done correctly. Or at least if I find something that doesn’t look right, make sure someone else knows about it.”
He glanced at the time, hating the evening was coming to an end. He didn’t have a shift the next day but knew she’d have to be at work. The dinner had been so comfortable, everything he would’ve wanted it to have been. Standing together, she led the way back into the kitchen where they rinsed the dishes in the sink and put away the leftovers. Working side-by-side, he loved how natural the simple action felt. Something he’d seen his parents do a million times over the years.
He led the way to her front door, then turned and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Giving her power, she had no problem taking the initiative by lifting her hands, clutching his jaws, and pulling him in for a kiss. Like the other kisses they’d shared, this one flamed hot. But unlike previous times, he wasn’t sure he could douse the flames.
He lifted her into his arms, and she threw her legs around his waist. He could swear he felt her heat pressed against his cock. Noses bumped and tongues tangled as the kiss grew wilder. Just when he tried to prepare for the coolness that he knew would overtake him when he set her back to the floor, she clutched him tighter.
She leaned back slightly, her face only a few inches from his, her lips kiss-swollen and her breath coming in pants. “I… I want you to…” Her face scrunched, and she gave a tiny shake of her head. “Shut up, Grandmother.”
Jerking, he stared, uncertain he heard her correctly. “What did you say?”
“Nothing, nothing! Ignore that. It’s just that I want you to stay. Here. Tonight. With me. Stay with me tonight.”
Grinning at her flustered flurry of words, he wanted to make sure he understood. “What exactly are you asking, Sandy?”
She wiggled slightly, and he set her feet on the ground, fully expecting her to retract her offer.
She swallowed deeply, twisted her hands in front of her, and never lost hold of his gaze. “I want you. I haven’t… um… done this in a long time. I haven’t met anyone that I wanted to be with. I want you to stay here tonight with me. That is… if you want to.”
He tried to keep from shouting hallelujah but managed to just smile instead. “I’ll stay. But only on one condition.” He watched her brow furrow and a specter of uncertainty moved through her eyes. Lifting his hand, he cupped her cheek and swept his thumb over her soft skin. “We have to agree on what this is.”
“This?”
“Us. What we’re doing. I don’t want any misunderstanding in the morning.”
She nodded slowly as though resignation was settling, causing her smile to slip. “Oh… yeah… sure—”
“This is no one-night fuck, Sandy. We’ve already started you and me, and this will just solidify that commitment. But I can’t stay here and sleep with you if you’re not on the same page.”
A little gasp slipped from between her lips. “I’m on the same page,” she vowed, nodding rapidly, a hopeful gleam now back in her eyes.
He leaned behind him and flipped the lock on the front door before holding his hand out. She looked down at his hand before linking fingers with him. Grinning, she led him up the stairs.
17
As Sandy led Rory to the top of the stairs toward her bedroom, she was glad he was behind her and couldn’t see her flushed face. A moment earlier her grandmother’s words had sounded in her head, “A lady never propositions a man—”, and she immediately blurted out to keep the words from interfering. He must’ve thought I was a nutcase!
Blowing out a deep breath as they entered her room, she turned, suddenly nervous. For all her charm and flirting, she’d never brought a man to her house. Her last relationship, if it could be called that, was a disaster. She hadn’t felt comfortable with him, and he wanted more than she was willing to offer. She simply found it easier to not get involved. But now, looking up at Rory’s face, she wanted to be completely involved.
“I… um…” she began, her fingers fiddling at the bottom of her shirt.
As though he knew she was nervous, he stepped closer and whispered, “Just kiss me.” That she knew she could do.
She lifted her hands and placed them on his shoulders as he cupped her cheeks, guiding her face toward his. Their lips met and a warmth spread through her, building until tingles moved throughout her core. Her fingers pressed into his shoulders, and her manicured nails dug slightly into the muscle. His hands glided from her cheeks and one moved over her back, pressing her tightly against him while the other pulled the chopsticks from her messy bun, allowing the thick waves to tumble in a waterfall down her back.
With her hair free, his fingers now dove through her tresses, cupping the back of her head. That gentle pressure controlled the angle of their kiss, and she willingly gave that power to him. She instinctively knew that Rory would take care of her in all ways.
His tongue glided over hers, and she pressed her legs together, the desire for friction building deep inside her core. Much to her surprise, he broke the kiss and stepped back. Before she could ask what was wrong, he pulled off his sweater, and her eyes feasted on the tight, gray undershirt that molded to his muscles. Before she could completely commit that scene to memory, he grabbed a handful of material and jerked it over his head, tossing it onto the floor as well.
He stepped closer again and reached for the bottom of her shirt, slowly and carefully drawing it up over her head as she raised her arms into the air. Her sports bra had a zipper in the front, and he soon freed her breasts, her nipples pebbling as the cool air rushed over her. Facing each other in the same state of undress still made her feel self-conscious until his gaze stayed off her breasts and on her face and he breathed, “You are so beautiful.”
She smiled widely, f
eeling the heat of blush move over her face. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, retrieving several condoms. Tossing them onto the bed and his wallet onto her nightstand, her eyes widened. “More than one?”
He grinned and pulled her close again so that their naked chests were pressed together. “Obviously, you haven’t been with anyone recently that had stamina.”
Her face heated even more. “I haven’t been with anyone recently at all.”
At that admission he blinked, his chin jerking slightly. He opened his mouth as though to speak, then snapped it closed, his lips curving softly. He lifted his hand and slowly dragged his finger over her cheek then held her chin between his knuckle and thumb. Leaning closer, he breathed against her lips. “Then I’m honored, sweetheart.”
Their lips melded together once again, and she closed her eyes, allowing the sensations to crash over her. The touch of his lips. The feel of her breasts pressed against the hard planes of his chest. His hand gliding over her bare back to hold her tight. The feel of his erection pressing against her stomach. Barely aware that he shuffled them toward the bed, she gave a little squeak as he scooped her into his arms and placed her gently on the bed. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pants and slowly dragged them down her legs, snagging her panties and fuzzy pink socks along the way. Now, she lay completely naked before him, and yet the expression on his face was so reverent she no longer felt self-conscious.
His hands went to his belt, and she heard the leather slide from the buckle. Her senses were on fire, and her hearing was acute. The click of the zipper teeth. The rustling of material as his pants dropped to the floor. The thud of his boots hitting the rug. Before she knew it, he was naked and crawling over her body, lying on his side.
Rory: Hope City, Book 7 Page 13