We stayed on the patio for over an hour, eating and drinking, sharing tales. Kennedy told his friends about Sweetest Temptations, which set off a round of questions and praises that made me blush as much as it made me proud. They loved my treats, describing their favorite one, wanting to know what else I offered. It seemed I had gained lifelong clients, and since Kennedy knew the owner—me—personally, he had been tasked with keeping them in full supply.
I was still smiling from the conversation we were just having as I walked to the garbage to toss mine and Kennedy’s paper plates, when the toe of my sandal caught one of the wooden planks and I pitched forward.
An alarmed squeak escaped me, but it was enough to grab Kennedy’s attention. As I crashed down, I heard plastic chair legs slide loudly across the deck. Unfortunately, Kennedy was not Superman and he had no super speed.
“Jesus, Abby, are you okay?” The question came in several different tones, from several different voices, and from all directions. The one I focused on belonged to the man already knelt in front of me. His attention was fixed on me as he gently rolled me onto my back. I saw the tension in the fine lines around his eyes as he studied me, searching for injuries. I also saw concern as he located the area of my knee where I could feel it beginning to burn with the prick of a thousand needles. And I could see regret, the kind that probably comes from being a hero who didn’t make it in time.
“I’m okay,” I grunted, attempting to reassure him. “It’s just a scrape—Ouch!! What the hell?” I looked down, seeing Jack crouched at my feet, his thick, calloused fingers probing my wounds. “Do you mind? That’s raw flesh you’re manhandling.”
“Sorry.” Funny, but he didn’t look the least bit sorry at all. I’m thinking it was the slight smirk that gave him away.
Kennedy moved in closer, positioning himself behind me and framing my head in his hands, stopping me from unleashing holy hell on his friend. “Stay still for me, Abby. I want to get you checked out and make sure you didn’t get hurt anywhere else.”
I looked up at him, seeing his assessing eyes roaming over me and I could tell right away that he had shifted into professional fireman mode. One of the guys picked up my hand and pressed two fingertips into my wrist, staring at his watch as he took my vitals. Jack had moved on from my knees and was now scoping out my abraded palms. Everyone else had moved on and was either eating again, or talking. But they were all focused on me in some way or another, and I felt the telltale heat of embarrassment begin climbing into my cheeks.
“This really isn’t necessary,” I told Kennedy, keeping my voice low. “I don’t need any more attention than I am already getting.” I felt like a complete idiot, although I shouldn’t. People fell all the time, right? Right.
His eyes dropped to mine and his lips twitched. “Just let me take care of you. It’s good for my ego.”
I rolled my eyes. Well, when he put it that way, how could I deny him?
A moment later, Jack stood, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “The wounds are superficial. Just a few scrapes. They probably sting like a sonovabitch though, am I right?”
I could have told him that.
Satisfied with his friend’s assessment, Kennedy helped me to my feet. “Hell, yes, they do,” I declared, grimacing as the skin on my knees shifted, highlighting the prickle of pain where air kissed broken skin.
“Ray?” Kennedy asked, turning his attention to the guy who checked my vitals.
“Everything is good, man.”
Seemingly satisfied with their verdicts, Kennedy cupped my elbow and tugged me toward the door. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
I followed him through the firehouse’s main floor to a private bathroom where he grasped my waist and deposited me on the edge of the sink counter. Without a word, Kennedy dug around in the cabinet below my feet. When he came back up, he held the makings of a first-aid kit.
Slipping my sandal off, Kennedy set it on the counter beside me, and then placed my bare foot against his chest, pressing just hard enough to keep it in place. I felt a string of butterflies fluttering in my stomach on contact, but I found that I liked where I was—in Kennedy’s strong, capable hands.
“You don’t have to do this,” I told him, but my protest was weak, even to my own ears.
Kennedy glanced up at me, studying me closely for a few seconds. “I know.”
Those two words held so much power, so much promise. They said that he wanted to be here with me, he wanted to take care of me. Or maybe I was reading more into it than I should. Either way, I said nothing. I just continued to watch Kennedy go to work on me, using his hands to fix me up.
In the cramped confines of the room, there was nowhere else to look but at Kennedy, which wasn’t a hardship. He was gorgeous, especially when he was in his element, as he so clearly was now. His brows pulled together as he concentrated on dabbing the dried blood from my knee with a wet cloth. Once he sufficiently cleaned the area, he reached for a bottle of disinfectant. “This might sting a little,” he muttered, just before he rained unholy fire on me.
“Ah!” My leg jerked, trying to break free, but Kennedy gripped my ankle. I sucked air through my teeth, willing the burn to go away, when I caught him watching me.
Holding my eyes, Kennedy slowly lowered his head and I found myself beginning to relax as I watch his lips pucker. He blew gently on the area, soothing the burn, and my muscles slowly began to unwind. “Better?” I nodded. “Good.”
I watched his fingers as he finished cleaning and bandaging me up. I was mesmerized by the steady, confident, competent way in which he worked, the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he tore open bandages and set them just right, the way his mouth moved each time he blew cool air on my wounds to chase away the burn, and how the light from overhead seemed to cast him in the perfect amount of shadow, making him appear equal parts dark, sexy, and authoritative. I didn’t so much as flinch when he moved to the other knee, and by the time he got to my palms, I was nearly quivering with the need for him to kiss me.
“It’s not too bad here,” he said, smoothing light fingertips over my open palm. “I don’t think you’ll need any bandages.” He lifted his eyes and I felt the fluttering in my stomach increase.
“Okay.”
“Some antibiotic cream should do it.”
“Okay.”
His eyes burned into mine as he stood there, close enough that my knees pressed against his taut stomach, watching me with a quiet intensity that should have been unnerving, but only served to send my heart rate into overdrive. Holy hell, did I want this man.
For a long moment, I was lost in his eyes, in the feel of his warm, strong hand holding mine, creating a fire deep inside. His touch was simple, yet held so much more. It was the unspoken desire I saw in his eyes, the irrepressible need I felt welling within me making my body feel achy, my breasts tender and heavy. It was an undeniable connection and it was the reason I made the first move.
I felt my body sway forward, my lips already tingling in anticipation. Kennedy’s palms glided up my arms, finding the curve of my neck where his fingers wrapped around my nape, holding me in place. He used his hold to his advantage, tilting my head as he brought his mouth closer to mine, leaving me no choice but to follow his lead. My hands found him, smoothing across his rock hard stomach to his sides. My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as I opened my legs wide, pulling him in closer. Between my legs, where the throb had grown almost unbearable, I felt his cock pressing against me, and I wanted more. I wanted all of him.
“Do you know the most important part of first-aid?” he murmured, as his fingers gently massaged my nape. I shook my head in answer. “A kiss to make it all better.”
I was so hot in that moment, that if someone lit me on fire, it would have been as refreshing as a cold glass of water dumped over my head.
Kennedy’s mouth hovered over mine, our bodies flush. I was utterly lost in his eyes, which had turned molten, when bells and sirens bega
n to wail, ripping through our peaceful moment. I jolted from the shock, and my heart thumped wildly for a whole new reason.
“What’s going on?” I asked, stilling in Kennedy’s arms, although, considering where I was, there really was only one guess.
“Emergency,” Kennedy stated simply. By the tight look on his face, I knew what was coming next.
“You have to go.”
“I’m sorry. It’s usually pretty quiet during the afternoon.”
Through the open door, I caught a glimpse of everyone leaping into action, having abandoned their chairs and plates, and were now rushing around and suiting up. I hated that he had to leave, but it was a good dose of reality. I’d finally figured out what was wrong with my sister’s choice. If I planned to date Kennedy, this was what I was signing up for. Days apart, constant worrying over his safety. The realization hit me hard and I felt my shoulders slump. “It’s okay. I know you have to go.”
“I do,” he said, his voice laced with regret. Lifting his hand to trace the curve of my jaw with light fingertips, he spoke quietly, hopefully. “You can stay and wait for me.”
And do what? I had no clue when he would be back, or what state he would be in. I didn’t like the idea of sitting around waiting, wondering. Torturing myself with unanswered questions. “I think I should go,” I told him, my decision made. “You have to work, and I have a cake to bake.”
His eyebrows knit together. “I thought you were closed today?”
“I am. The cake is for the dinner tomorrow at my sister’s. Will you be there?”
Releasing me, he helped me to my feet. As he led us back inside, he said, “I don’t know yet. I’m working tomorrow, but if I can, I will.”
My stomach sank with disappointment, but I understood. He had to work, too, and his job was a lot more important than mine. Still, I found myself hoping that he would be able to get away for a while, because, despite my reservations, I wasn’t nearly finished with this man.
“Kenny, let’s go!” one of the guys shouted as he climbed onto the side of one of the trucks, his neck craning back to look at him.
Kennedy waved his hand, letting him know that he was on his way, and cast me an apologetic look. “I have to take off. Will you be okay letting yourself out?”
I waved a dismissive hand. “Of course.” My heart tripped a little when he stepped forward and laced the fingers on both of our hands together.
“I wish I had time to walk you to your car.”
“Me too. My sense of direction is pretty shitty. I’m surprised I don’t get lost in my own home.”
His deep, throaty chuckle sent a tingling of awareness straight to the spot between my thighs. “You’re incredible.” I wanted to say that I thought he was, too, but the heated look in his eyes stopped my words dead. His gaze dropped to my mouth, and all the blood in my body headed south, turning me into a throbbing, lightheaded mess. Then his lips were on mine, a soft press that quickly turned more aggressive as I pushed my fingers into his hair and pulled him down to me. His questing tongue licked at my bottom lip before dipping inside my mouth, tasting and teasing me until I almost forgot where I was.
Almost.
A truck horn blared followed by a few cat calls. My face heated and I broke the kiss. “You should go.”
“Yeah.” Kennedy watched me for a moment more, appearing dazed. Another honk of the horn snapped him out of it, and a bright smile spread across his face. “Take that door,” he said, pointing to the front of the building. “Then take a left. Your car is only ten feet away, but if you get lost, give me a shout and I’ll come rescue you.”
I smirked. “Cute. Real cute.”
“That’s what they tell me, anyway.” Winking at me, he grabbed his turnouts from one of the hooks on the wall and began pulling it on at the same time he stuffed his feet into a pair of boots.
Shaking my head, I started for the door. “On that note, thank you for lunch.”
Grabbing the last of his gear, Kennedy hurried for the truck, which just happened to be in the same direction I was heading. Hooking his arm around my waist, I was caught by surprise when he hauled me back, my body twisting around and making my head spin. His mouth crashed down on mine and before I had time to register what had just happened, he set me away again. “Anytime,” he said as he leapt onto the truck. “And be careful driving home!”
Jack, who was behind the wheel, began pulling out of the garage. As I watched, I heard his words echo in my head, and the reality of just who I was dating really began to sink in. Kennedy was about to put his life on the line, and he was telling me to be careful. Pressing my hand against the sudden ache in my chest, I whispered after them, “Be safe.”
7
I stayed up late watching the news, and again the next morning before rolling out of bed. I couldn’t stop thinking about Kennedy driving away on the truck, responding to some unknown emergency. He hadn’t called, not that I expected him to. But it would have been nice to have some confirmation that he was still among the living.
Now, as I stood in front of the kitchen sink, my hands submerged in hot, soapy water, I couldn’t help feeling disappointment and a growing sense of unease. Not only had Kennedy not called, he hadn’t shown up to dinner, either. Granted, he did tell me he wasn’t sure if he would be able to make it, but my screwed up mind only heard “might.” I guess I had set my hopes too high.
“Stop worrying,” Amy chastised from her place in front of the stove where she was busily placing the leftover food into containers. “No news is good news.”
Picking a spot of dried-on cheese from the plate I was washing, I told her, “Only idiots say that. No news could just as easily be bad news.” My mood had been deteriorating all day, and I was perilously close to reaching the unfit-for-human-interaction point.
“Boy, you’re a grumpy Gus today.”
I slanted what I hoped to be my most stern glare at her. “Wouldn’t you be if Doug took off, knowing he was running headlong into danger, and he didn’t even bother to call you to tell you he was okay?”
Turning to face me, she braced her hands on the counter behind her. I tried to ignore the serious, thoughtful look she aimed at me, and began rinsing the dishes and placing them carefully into the drying rack. “You’re right, I would be upset, but only because I love him. You haven’t known Ken long enough for that,” she pointed out. “He strikes me as a guy used to taking care of himself. I doubt he’s in the habit of calling to tell someone he is okay, either.”
Well, when put that way, I kind of felt like an ass. Amy was right. I didn’t know Kennedy, not intimately, and certainly not enough to stand here and twist myself into knots over something so innocuous.
“Besides, you’re missing one important fact here.”
Shutting off the water, I accepted the towel she offered me and dried my hands. “And what’s that?”
Her smile was full of big sister know-it-all attitude. “Firefighters do a whole hell of a lot more than fight fires, that’s what.”
Setting the now damp towel aside, I frowned. “What do you mean, that’s not all they do?” Even as the question crossed my lips, I recalled the way Kennedy had taken care of me. He knew exactly what he was doing. A tiny shiver traced down my spine remembering the feel of his hands on my body, how expertly he handled me, turning what had been an embarrassing and painful moment into a fantasy that followed me home and into my dreams later that night.
“Of course, that’s not all they do. Firefighters are at every call. Haven’t you seen the ambulances and the fire trucks together before? Or the fire trucks and the police cars? I’m not claiming to be an expert here, but I’m pretty sure they are what you call first responders. They know and do a heck of a lot more than just putting out fires, Abs.”
Throwing the towel on the counter, I leaned back and sighed. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just that…” I trailed off, unsure of what to say. I wasn’t normally the wear-your-heart-on-your-sleeve type of girl.
&nbs
p; “Just that you were hoping he would be here,” Amy finished for me. I nodded and she smiled warmly. “I’m sure he would have been here if he could have. He really likes you.”
My heart gave a little flutter. “Oh yeah? And how would you know that?”
“Doug,” Amy said simply. “He had an appointment with Ken last week and apparently you’re all he could talk about. Doug’s words, not mine.”
I perked up at this news, feeling a thrill of excitement to hear that Kennedy had been thinking of me, had been interested enough to ask anything about me. “What did he say?”
Amy’s shoulders lifted and fell. “I’m not sure. Doug was pretty tight-lipped. All he said was Ken asked a lot of questions and he had to keep redirecting him back to business.”
My mind scrambled for topics he may have touched on. What could he want to know about me? If I had kids? Ever been married? I also began to wonder what I might have overlooked asking him.
“How did your date go?” Amy asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Good,” I said vaguely. “We went to a hockey game and I ate my weight in carbs.” She gave me one of her brilliant smiles. I chewed my lip, preparing to tell her the biggest news. “And we kinda got together for a second date yesterday.”
“Shut. Up!” Amy yelled, punctuating her words with a swift punch in my upper arm.
“Damn, Amy!” I grimaced, rubbing the sort spot. That was going to bruise.
“Sorry. This is so exciting, though! Does this mean you like him?”
“Yeah,” I said looking away. “I like him.”
The next thing I knew, Amy’s arms were wrapped tight around me. “Oh, Abby, I’m so happy for you!”
The thing about me, I’ve never been much of a hugger. Not that I shun human contact or anything, but hugging was a little more intimate than I preferred in general, everyday situations. I reserved the act for meaningful moments, like saying goodbye, or life and death moments. Patting Amy briefly on the back, I pulled away and cleared my throat. “Thanks, but let’s not get carried away. It was just a date. He didn’t ask me to marry him.”
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