Big Hose (a firefighter single mom romantic comedy) (Size Matters Book 2)

by Blake Wilder

  “That’s your advice? How is that helpful?”

  “How is it not? You’re horny, you need experience, and if the gossip around town is correct, Jake is more than man enough to take care of that for you. Give yourself one stellar night. Come back to the land of sexual beings, then turn the tables. You be the user this time. Get what you want from the man, then stick your middle finger in the air and give the universe a big fuck you. You deserve one night of nonstop orgasms.”

  I closed my eyes. “I’d settle for just one.”

  Ada snapped her fingers until I looked at her again. “No. You’re not settling. Make that bad boy give you three at a minimum. Five would be ideal.”

  “Five?” I tried to figure out if she was joking or serious. One look into her jet-black eyes told the tale. Ada was serious as a heart attack.

  “And then I just walk away?” I’d meant my words to be a comment, but they ended with a definite question mark.

  Ada narrowed her eyes. “Yes. You walk away. As fast and as confidently as your bowlegs can carry you.”

  “I’m not bow-legged.”

  “You will be after a night with Jake.”

  I didn’t have the faintest idea how to respond to that. Apparently, I didn’t need to. My body gave me all the answer I needed. My pussy clenched, my heart raced, my palms sweated, and my nipples tightened.

  “Okay. I’m going to see how tonight goes. If I’m still feeling this attraction to him, I’ll hire a sitter and set up another date for this weekend.”

  “Why not tonight?”

  “Because I have to hit the grocery store after work, start the spaghetti sauce, and tidy up my house. I don’t have time to attend to the pertinents between now and then.” I gestured to my pussy and then ran a hand over one leg. “I’ve been single for six years. Everything needs a trim. Or maybe hedge clippers. God, maybe even a chainsaw.”

  Ada laughed. “You have issues, girl. If you decide to move forward with it tonight though, call me. I’ll come get George. He can do an overnight with Auntie Ada while you get your pipes cleaned.”

  “Lovely image, Ada.”

  She gave me a grin and a wink. “Trust me. After one night in Jake’s bed, you’ll understand exactly what I mean.”

  I wished she would stop alluding to Jake’s apparent talents in the bedroom. It only made me more nervous. And hornier.

  God. If I didn’t have an orgasm soon, I was going to spontaneously combust.

  She stood up, then stopped at the door. “You’re on the pill, right?”

  “Did you miss the part about me getting pregnant the first time? What do you think?” My comment clearly failed to comfort her, so I added, “Of course, I am. Take it every morning like clockwork.”

  “Perfect.”

  I waved as Ada headed back to the clinic, then I glanced at the clock on the wall. I only had five more minutes before I had to pick my class up from the art teacher.

  I looked down at the grocery list I’d been attempting to make. The plan for tonight’s meal was spaghetti with a salad and garlic bread. Lots and lots of garlic on the bread. I was hoping a case of stinky breath would keep me from crawling onto Jake’s lap and doing a tongue tango with him.

  I’d wanted him to kiss me Saturday. I mean we’d been standing right there—alone—by his truck. There’d been ample opportunity.

  So why hadn’t he?

  According to Ada—and every other woman in town—Jake didn’t hold back on his desires. If he saw something he wanted, he took it.

  Which was a depressing thought.

  Because he didn’t kiss me.

  Four

  Jake

  I stood on the front porch to Hope’s house and lifted my hand, intent on knocking. I paused. There was music coming from somewhere inside—an oldies station—and it sounded like Hope was singing along. Then I heard George giggle. Rather than knock, I walked to the end of the porch and peered into the window.

  Hope hadn’t had a chance to hang curtains yet, so I could see through the empty dining room and catch glimpses of her and George in the family room in the back. They appeared to be dancing as they cleaned up. Hope had a GI Joe doll in her hand and she was using it as a microphone as she rocked out to Elvis’ “Blue Suede Shoes.” She grabbed George’s hand and spun him around as the little boy laughed.

  I walked back to the door and turned the knob.

  Unlocked.

  Perfect.

  I quietly made my way to the living room. George saw me first and his toothless smile grew wider. The kid had a way of making me feel like a superhero. I liked it. And him.

  “Mind if I cut in?”

  Hope jumped and dropped the GI Joe. She turned in surprise, which I used to my advantage. Grabbing her hands, I spun her around the same way she’d just done with George, then I dipped her as the little boy clapped his hands.

  Unfortunately, the music ended way too soon and I was forced to let her go. Her face was flushed, but this time I couldn’t decide if it was because of me or the dancing.

  “Your door was unlocked.”

  She nodded. “My hands were full of groceries when I got home. Meant to go back and lock it.”

  I shrugged. “I got a dance out of it, so I’m not complaining.”

  Hope looked at George. “Finish picking up the toys, Georgie, while I go stir the spaghetti sauce. Would you like a glass of wine, Jake? Or a beer?”

  I followed her to the kitchen. “Beer sounds good.” Walking up to the stove, I lifted the lid on the pot and sucked in a deep breath of the delicious-smelling air. “Dayum.”

  She popped the cap on a Budweiser and handed it to me. Then she poured herself a glass of red wine. I tapped my bottle to her glass and we both drank.

  Hope took a big sip and it occurred to me the bottle of wine was already half empty. So maybe her flushed cheeks were a result of the wine.

  I got a sense she was nervous and was probably using the wine to keep her calm.

  “Given your response,” she said, “I’m going to go out on a limb and say I picked right. You like spaghetti?”

  “I love it. Though to be honest, I’m a bachelor who lives on diner food. Anything you made tonight was going to be a step up. It smells great. And you look very pretty.”

  She smiled, then flipped her hair over her shoulder. It was loose tonight, hanging in long auburn waves. I hadn’t lied the first time I’d met her at the fire station. I really was a sucker for a redhead.

  She also wasn’t hiding behind baggy clothes tonight, which pleased me more than I could say. She’d put on a pair of jeans that fit her just right and a low-cut black top that revealed the perfect amount of cleavage. Hope’s tits were going to star in my fantasies from now on. I was tempted to reach out and cup them to see if they were as full and firm as they looked.

  I shook that thought away.

  I was pretty sure that would get my ass kicked out in record time. Dating without knowing the end result was new to me.

  I took women out all the time, but both of us always knew where the night was going to end—in my bed—so I took advantage of that, stealing touches and getting the foreplay rolling right out of the gate.

  Hope invited me here to thank me for helping her out around the house. Which reminded me.

  I looked up. The old detector was still hanging open, sans battery.

  “Thought you were getting a new one.”

  She pointed to a bag next to the refrigerator. “I did. I just haven’t had time—”

  I raised my hand. “Say no more.” I grabbed the detector from the bag and unpacked it. She opened a drawer, rummaging around until she found her lone screwdriver. Luckily it was a Philips head, so it worked.

  “I’ll start working on the salad.” She turned her back to me, giving me a chance to check out her ass as I stepped up onto the chair. I made short work of changing out the smoke detector. She glanced over her shoulder in surprise when I pushed the chair back to the table.

  “
That didn’t take long.” She’d just picked up a cucumber and I couldn’t resist stepping next to her and taking it out of her hands. It was a decent-sized one.

  “Seems a shame to waste this on a salad.”

  She laughed, bumping her hip against me playfully as she grabbed the cucumber back. “Behave.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  “You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?”

  Her eyes drifted to my lips. Oh yeah. Hope wasn’t pushing me away tonight.

  God. More than that, she was flirting.

  I leaned closer, my mouth thirsting for a taste of her. I could smell the sweet wine on her breath. It was warm and inviting.

  “Trouble is my middle name.”

  She licked her lips, shifting toward me.

  “Mommy!” George called out from the other room. Footsteps in the hall said we had incoming.

  She gave me a regretful grin and we moved apart just as George walked into the kitchen. “The TV has that blue screen again.”

  “I can’t fix that right now, baby. I promise I’ll look at it after—”

  “Blue screen?” I asked, latching onto anything as a distraction before more blood rushed to regions south of the border.

  “We got cable yesterday, but I think there’s something wrong with the connection.”

  “Why don’t you finish that salad and I’ll take a quick peek?”

  She smiled appreciatively at my offer. I noticed a slight tremble in her hands.

  I wasn’t the only one hurting.

  Good.

  Good?

  No. That was bad.

  I wasn’t here to seduce Hope Connor. Definitely not with her kid home.

  I’d only done that once and it hadn’t been my fault. Hence that unfortunate question from Amy at the fire station. I’d spent the night with her mom, Dixie. We’d been naked in bed when Dixie’s ex arrived with Amy in tow, three hours earlier than he was supposed to. Luckily, we’d managed to toss on clothes before Amy saw us, but short of me climbing out of a second-floor window, there was no way to get out of the house without Amy seeing me.

  I figured that ranked right up there in the top ten as far as awkward sex moments in my life. The sad part was it didn’t make the top five.

  I fiddled with the television for a few minutes. Hope was right. The cord was dodgy. I had an extra one at home. I figured I could offer that as an excuse to come back again.

  Until then…

  “There,” I said, as the picture popped back up. “Going to need a new cord,” I explained to George, who’d stood next to me as I worked. I noticed the last time I’d been here, I had acquired a five-year-old shadow.

  “Mommy said I can watch Toy Story tonight after dinner.”

  “Oh yeah? Think she’d let me watch it too? It’s my favorite.”

  His eyes lit up. “Yeah. You stay, okay?”

  I ruffled his hair playfully, then Hope called our names from the kitchen. “Jake. George. Dinner’s ready.”

  It was a simple invitation to eat, but something about it made me feel warm inside. After a decade of living alone, there was something “home-y” about being called in to supper.

  We settled down at the table, digging in. Hope was an amazing cook.

  “This spaghetti tastes even better than it smells,” I said after I’d polished off my second helping.

  Hope smiled, then took another sip of wine.

  I glanced toward the counter where the bottle was. One more glassful left. She was definitely getting tipsy.

  George kept the conversation rolling throughout the meal, excited about the fact his mother had signed him up for tee-ball.

  “I think you’re going to like that,” I told him. “I know the coach. He’s a great guy.”

  I was the coach, but I didn’t tell them that. Wanted that to be a surprise the first day of practice. This night just kept getting better and better. Hope had taken me up on the offer of the cable cord, which meant I could spend more time here, and now I would see her at tee-ball games.

  I didn’t usually try so hard to manufacture reasons to see a woman, but I liked Hope.

  She was pretty and sweet and not eyeing me like I was a grade A beef or a hunter stalking his prey. The Big Hose reputation always managed to land me in one of those two categories with most of the women in town and I was sick of both.

  Of course, that wasn’t to say all women felt that way. I had quite a few female friends—wives and sisters of my buddies—who were cool to hang out with. Hope mentioned being friends with Ada. She was my best friend Ike’s sister and a great person. I was glad Hope had found her rather than Lauren Rogers’ pack of piranhas.

  “George said something about Toy Story being on the agenda for tonight.” I’d surprised Hope with my comment.

  “Jake’s watching it with us,” George said excitedly. He was wiggling in his chair. Hope gave him a look and he said, “Can I be excused? I wanna play with my trucks.”

  She nodded and smiled.

  George raced back to the living room.

  “Nice manners.”

  Hope stood and started clearing the table. I rose and helped her.

  “My dad was military. Table manners, please and thank you, using sir and ma’am as terms of respect were sort of drilled into my head as a kid. We lived with my folks up until the end of July, so Dad’s been a pretty big influence on George as well.”

  “I think it’s great.”

  “So do I.”

  She rinsed the plates, then slid them into the dishwasher. “You really don’t have to watch that movie with us if you have other things you need to do.”

  “Trying to get rid of me?”

  I liked the way she shook her head instantly. “Oh no. Not at all. It’s just…”

  “I really do love Toy Story and...” I reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, lightly touching her earlobe as I did so. “Spending time with you.”

  “I like that too,” she replied, somewhat breathlessly.

  My cock went from zero to sixty in two seconds. Hope was hell on my libido. Too many more nights of this cat and mouse game and I was going to end up in the hospital with terminal blue balls.

  “Can we watch the movie now?” George shouted from the living room.

  Hope closed the dishwasher, even though she hadn’t finished loading it. “I’ll clean up the rest later.” She poured the last of the wine into her glass as she asked, “Another beer?”

  I’d only had the one, so I nodded. “Yeah. I’ll grab it.” I opened the fridge and pulled the bottle of Bud out.

  Hope was only a few feet away, so I reached for her free hand. She stopped and turned toward me. “Jake?” she started.

  I closed the distance between us and gave her a quick, hard kiss. I’d been wanting to kiss her since the first moment she walked into the fire station, looking like some sort of gypsy goddess, patiently guiding the tide of little kids surrounding her.

  After we parted, she touched her lips and smiled at me.

  “Appetizer,” I said. “For later.”

  She surprised me by taking my kiss and raising me one. The kiss she initiated lasted a few seconds longer, though it was still closed mouth. I really wanted to steal a taste of her. When we separated this time, she gave me a saucy smile. “Dessert,” she corrected.

  I laughed as we made our way to the living room. Hope and I sat next to each other on the couch, but George somehow managed to wiggle his way between us. Not because he was trying to keep me away from his mom. In truth, it felt like he wanted me all to himself. That theory was proven when George gave his mom a look and she shifted away a few inches to give him more room.

  George tucked himself under my arm as Hope started the movie. She rolled her eyes above her son’s head and I winked at her.

  I hadn’t lied about loving Toy Story. I’d probably watched the movie close to fifty times in my life—all with my kid brother who was only a year or so older than George.r />
  When it was over, Hope stood up and looked at George. “Time to get ready for bed.”

  George groaned, but Hope remained firm. “It’s a school night, Georgie. Brush your teeth and put on your pajamas. I’ll be in in a few minutes to read you a story.”

  “Can Jake read to me tonight?”

  “I don’t think—” she started.

  “I’d love to,” I said.

  “Jake,” she said. “Really, I understand if—”

  She kept trying to put me into some macho bachelor category that suggested she didn’t think I could handle little kids. I didn’t like it and was ready to prove myself. “Pick out your favorite, George, and yell for me when you’re ready.”

  George scrambled down the hall to the bathroom.

  “Thanks,” she said, though I could see her doubting my motives. The Bootlick rumor mill had been working overtime. I had a lot of work to do if I hoped to prove to her there was more to me than the big hose.

  And there it was again, this unfamiliar feeling of wanting a woman interested in me because of who I was, not what I could offer in the bedroom.

  “No problem.”

  “I’ll finish cleaning up the kitchen. Then,” she said pausing, “would you like a cup of coffee or something?”

  “Coffee would be great.”

  George called my name, so I walked to his room. It was pretty standard for a five-year-old, toy cars strewn all over the floor, a shelf full of picture books, baseball mitt on the nightstand and Disney posters on the wall. I was pleased by his choice of sheets. “Firetrucks?” I asked.

  “Mommy and me went to Walmart last week. She let me pick out whatever I wanted.”

  “If you want, you and your mom can stop by the station someday and I’ll let you sit in the driver’s seat of one of the trucks.”

  George’s eyes widened. “For real? Honest?”

  I promised, then we settled down to read a well-worn copy of “Curious George and the Puppies.” I suspected the book’s appeal came from the monkey’s name and the fact George was desperate for a puppy of his own.

  Once I finished reading, I stood up and tucked him in.

  “All done?” Hope said from the doorway. She’d obviously been listening from the hall. She crossed the room to give George a goodnight kiss, then she turned on a nightlight and shut the door behind us.