by Faria, Cyndi
His hand found her shoulder blade and his fingers combed through her hair. Against her neck, his breath grazed until he eased her down. “It’s okay. Red’s okay.” He glanced behind him, to where she’d parked her truck. “How did he get out of his crate?”
She glanced at her driver’s side door, now standing ajar.
Red had been rescued from a puppy mill, where dogs were kept in packed quarters. She’d purchased the crate to keep him safe, but she rarely locked him inside. “He must have stepped on the handle. I put him in the cab because he freaks out in his crate. Anxiety… small spaces.”
Garrett shivered.
She didn’t think it was from the seventy degree morning, but more proof of the fear she suspected.
He fluffed Red’s silky head. “With a little training, he can learn to like his crate.”
She waved a hand. “I could help him—stand by the door, tell him I’m right there, nothing to fear but memories. But it’s hard, you know. When I see him getting upset, I want to save him over and over again, even though I know I’m not doing either of us any good.”
Garrett scrubbed his face and exhaled loudly. “Can it, Mags. I know damn well you’re not talking about the dog.”
“I thought you said you were fine.”
“Okay, okay. You care. Can’t stop, so you want to protect him. I’d say protecting him sounds honorable, but he has to figure out for himself that the inside of the crate is safe. Nothing to fear, but an—extended hug.” He scowled.
“Or close dancing.”
His lips parted, briefly. Tilting his head, he grinned. “Dance partner, huh? For a week?”
Her muscles fluttered inside her skin all the way to her core, then cooled. Unless Garrett saw her as more than a friend, he would never leave Safe Haven and his family’s expectations for him to become a firefighter. “Garrett, in the next week, I’m going to show you such a good time, you’ll want to dance with me forever.”
He slung an arm over her shoulder.
Leaning against the swell of his chest, she nearly expected him to give her scalp a friendly noogy. Instead, he rolled her close. Held her closer.
“How hard could learning the box step be?”
“Excuse me.” Mrs. Deter, who lived across from the fire station, stood inside the station hangar. She wrung her hands against her apron and her cheeks were red, eyes puffy. “I need help, please. My anniversary ring fell into the crawlspace under the porch.”
# # # #
Across from the firehouse, Garrett stood at the base of the porch while Maggie tied Red to the pomegranate tree, the leaves golden and the red balls plump and ready for picking. For once, Garrett needed to prove to Maggie he wasn’t a coward and retrieve the ring without making a fool of himself. “Where did you lose the ring?”
“It’s over here.” Mrs. Deter shuffled around the gardenia hedge to the porch’s lattice side. “You have to hurry before my Eddie gets home.”
The couple had the type of relationship Garrett admired and hoped to have someday. Considering Maggie had caught him trying to flee his damn pride, he doubted her offer to stick around for a lifetime would hold true.
“Can you see the band?” Mrs. Deter jabbed her finger toward the pier that sat directly under the porch’s wicker bench.
Garrett crouched and glared where spiked nails pierced the beams and eighty years of cobwebs decorated the timbers.
“I don’t know how you’ll get my ring without getting hung up on the nails.”
He scrubbed his face. “Going to take a freaking miracle….”
“What did you say, dear?” Mrs. Deter shifted her glasses.
He doubted her squinting would clarify his slip. Cupping her elbow, he turned her toward the front door. “I’m not worried. Why don’t you go inside?”
Maggie came to stand beside him and her fingers brushed his.
He resisted glancing her way, resisted acknowledging the sensations that had tormented him since she’d shown up at the station. He swallowed, cleared his throat, then narrowed his eyes at the porch floorboards. If he removed a couple slats and used a cherry picker, he’d complete the job before the other firefighters returned. He thumbed toward the station. “I’m going to grab the saw—”
“Heavens, no!” Mrs. Deter plopped onto the wicker bench. “These redwood planks came from a tree my Eddie grew from a seed. Thirty years later, and look at the beautiful deck we rest our feet on every night.”
Garrett scratched his head. Well, shit. No way would he destroy something that had taken the couple years of hard work to grow before they’d reaped the benefits. He bent down to examine the porch, each planked grooved and knotted to reflect they were cut from the same tree. “Thirty years from a seed, huh?”
Maggie whispered in his ear, “You’re claustrophobic and too big. Under there, if you freeze up, we really will have to cut through the porch to get you out. There has to be another way. I’ll go in your place.”
Her honest words made his gut cramp. He glanced away. “No. I can do this.”
She sidled up beside him, and again her fingers mingled with his.
He caught her upturned gaze with eyes as clear as the blue sky that broke through the tree canopy. He licked his lips. He didn’t want to stare at her kissable mouth, or the way her hair tumbled over her shoulders. No denying his heart wanted more than a treasured friendship.
Thirty years from a seed sounded perfect. He’d wait that long for Maggie, if he knew he’d actually get her in the end.
“Garrett, your eyes look glassy. You hit your head in that tube?”
A half-grin slid onto his face. How could he tell her how much his feelings for her had grown? Since she was obviously attracted to the hero type, he had to be more focused, like Dane, and less distracted, like Red, and get that damn ring. No way could he freak out in her presence. Then he’d have to handle that dance competition that was so important to her. He had to prove he could evolve into the man of her dreams.
Mrs. Deter leaned over the railing. “What’s taking so long?”
He palmed his chin before dropping to all fours. “I’m analyzing the situation. Safety first.” Sounded cliché, but he had to buy some time. Had to think his way around retrieving the ring without proving he was claustrophobic in front of Maggie.
“Well, my Eddie always says if you can visualize success, success will find you tenfold.”
Sounded like a quote from Thoreau. He poked his head under the porch, the mustiness of the peat rushing up his nose. “Wise advice.”
“I’m going inside to check on my pies.” The screen door banged shut and dust rained down into the dim space.
Suddenly, Maggie was beside him. “We’ll go together.”
With a raised eyebrow, he scanned her pink top with the sequin insignia and her manicured nails. “Stay here.”
A loud honk blared and Garrett craned his neck to see his brother’s truck entering the garage, which meant the others would soon return to the station.
He suddenly had a vision of Dane rescuing him. The image was worse than imagining Maggie getting her pink nails, elbows and jeans dirty.
Maggie laid on the ground.
“Maggie, get up. You’re not doing my job.”
“Firefighting is not your job. At least, it doesn’t have to be. Not if you don’t really want it. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
His muscles knotted at his shoulder, then rippled all the way to his fingertips until he clutched dirt. “Firefighting is what I’ve been groomed for, like your beauty pageants. We both do what’s expected. You work the pageant circuit for your mom’s sake and I uphold family tradition. Nothing will stop family custom.”
“But the pageants are fun. They’re a means to my long-term goal to travel Europe. You’re practically in agony just contemplating going under an open porch when you could do something else for a living.”
The only other thing he excelled at was refurbishing old fire trucks. More of a hobb
y than a job. With a hearty exhale, he flopped onto his belly and used his elbow to pull forward. He wanted so badly to be the man she deserved, to be a town hero like Dane, but all he did was shake his head and contemplate how his stocky shoulders could squeeze through the crisscrossed supports.
Maggie crawled forward, the length of her body and legs brushing up against his until her back pockets were at his eye level. In about thirty seconds, she grabbed the ring, then scooted backward between two piers. “Ouch.”
His stomach wrenched and he jolted, his head smacking a crossbeam. Their bodies pressed together, her thighs were at his shoulder, and her ass straight below his chin. “What’s wrong?”
“I—I can’t move. Something is holding me near my pants zipper, so I can’t back out. You’ll have to slip your hand under and unhook me.”
He shuddered and purposefully knocked his forehead on the closest beam to regain composure. There was at least a two-inch clearance between the concrete piers. Whatever held her wasn’t part of the deck, but below ground. “Just relax. I’ll get you free.” With his torso propped on his left elbow, he ran his right hand up the outside of her thigh and let his fingertips feel for wire or rebar.
She jerked and giggled.
Her movement caused a web of dust to stick to the perspiration on his forehead, though the temperature under the shaded porch neared sixty degrees. “What’s wrong? Why are you laughing?”
“That tickles. Hurry up before Mrs. Deter thinks we’re messing around down here.”
His face heated. Other places heated too, but he told himself she was his friend and hadn’t meant to imply she wanted more from him. Took him several seconds, however, to swallow the pulse lodged in his throat. He slid his hand under her waist. God, help him. “Yep. Rebar hung up on your belt loop.”
Freed, she squirmed out until she rolled onto her back beside him and opened her hand to reveal the platinum band encircled with rectangular inset diamonds. “See, we make a good team.”
On her back, snuggled against his side, like they’d done as kids in his backyard waiting for shooting stars, she gazed at him like he was her world. His heart punched at his chest.
Maggie placed the ring in his hand. “Given enough time, I have faith that together we can conquer anything.”
He lowered his gaze to where her teeth embedded into her lip, thought about kissing the woman he’d known his entire life. Mr. Deter’s advice resonated true. Garrett needed to visualize his future with Maggie as more than just his friend. Beginning with him becoming her dance partner. “I’ll do it. Dance with you at your pageant.”
She leaned in and her lips brushed his, tempting him to shimmy closer. “Don’t be afraid to get close.”
His breath eased out and he twined his legs with hers, thought about how the pigtailed ten-year-old had transformed into a beauty queen, now safely tucked into his arms. “I thought we had a dance class?”
She murmured into his mouth, “Class doesn’t begin for half an hour.”
He tasted her smile, tasted sunshine on a stormy night. The way his body tingled from her chest and tummy and thighs pressed up tight against his, her touch might as well have been a lightning bolt that struck deep and fired him up until he could think of nothing else but claiming her as his. “Since my shift is over, we could get a lot closer in a half an hour.”
With a giggle, she shimmied closer. “Is that what you want?”
Leaning in, that’s exactly what he wanted. He didn’t care that their feet stuck out the side of Mrs. Deter’s porch, didn’t care about the fusty dirt underneath. In that kiss, her gentleness erased all the cares he’d ever had.
“Hey, cadet, you got a woman to do your work for you?” Dane laughed. “And all while you were manning the station. Now that’s multi-tasking skills even I admire.”
“Don’t live down to expectations.
Go out there and do something remarkable.”
–Wendy Wasserstein
Chapter Two
The flutters in Maggie’s tummy settled to a low burn, and she cringed at the way Dane had interrupted her and Garrett’s first kiss. She didn’t care what Dane wanted, she just needed to get rid of him so she and Garrett wouldn’t be late for their lesson. She squeezed his arm to erase the frown from his face. “After we meet with the dance instructor, how about a rain check?”
“On the lessons, or that kiss?” He pumped his brows and, because of his sly smirk, one of his cheeks dimpled.
Playfully, she elbowed Garrett, then began scooting backward. “We have to drop Red off at my mom’s and be at the studio in twenty minutes, which means we have to hurry.”
“You two need a hand?” Dane bent down—all six feet four of him—dressed head to toe in a uniform dusted with soot. He wore a smile, like the after model for a toothpaste commercial.
“No. We’re done.”
“For now,” Garrett whispered.
Heat rose to her face. She’d taken a chance kissing him, but his smile proved her display of affection well worth the risk. Once she was out of the crawl space, Dane greeted her with an outstretched arm, helping her stand. “Hi, Dane…”
He ran a hand down one of her thighs, brushing off a sprinkling of what resembled guano, not uncommon in older homes where half-inch spaces between wooden planks encouraged bat habitation. “What were you doing under there?”
She stilled his hand. “I was helping Mrs. Deter retrieve her ring when I got hung up and Garrett came to my rescue.”
“Good job, Cadet.”
Garrett stood, and slapped away the fine grains of dirt stuck to his fingers.
Healthy earth that reminded her of compost she and her grandmother had worked into the vegetable garden. However, his eyes were now void of the softness that had encouraged her to try what her body didn’t want to deny.
“No problem. Maggie needs me, I’m there.” He brushed past Dane, trotted up to the porch landing, and called for Mrs. Deter, who invited him inside.
Dane yoked her shoulder with his arm. “Miss Safe Haven doesn’t belong in the dirt—not when I’m around.”
Red had circled the tree like it was a maypole, but seemed content pawing at the fallen pomegranates.
Maggie unwound his leash and addressed Dane. “So, how are you?”
“Great, since last Friday night. Saw your truck. Guess you came over to ask me to be your dance partner for the competition on Saturday?” He swiveled his leg—a typical tango move—then pretended to dip his imaginary partner.
Maggie hesitated. She didn’t want to cause any dissension between two men who lived and worked together, but she didn’t want to relinquish her time with Garrett either. “About that… I’ve asked Garrett.”
“Is that right?” Dane took a step toward her and slipped his arm behind her back, his hazel eyes soft.
She frowned and leaned away, disliking that Dane had entered the space she’d reserved for her best friend. Her back tensed against his palm.
He squeezed. “With me, you’re guaranteed to win the contest. We’ll go in strong and knock those judges off their seats.”
She popped her shoulders and glared at the closed screen door that had yet to expel Garrett. She didn’t need to be rescued, but having him at her side would have provided buffering from Dane’s advances, she hoped. The one and only date she’d spent with him, his language hadn’t included nouns, adjectives, or verbs—only his jousting tongue and roaming hands when she preferred a more antiquated performance. One she hoped to explore with Garrett—if they could ever find a private moment. She wiggled free. “Thanks for the offer. I’m going for fun this year.”
“Fun?” Dane pulled back, and his stare turned quizzical. “It’s a competition and Garrett’s as competitive as the next guy. There’s no fun in being a loser.”
Red whined and his wagging tail drooped.
She jammed a smile on her face and forced her cheeks to move her happiness into her eyes. More than ever, she wanted to have fun with Garrett, so h
e’d pursue their relationship beyond friendship.
“Oh, almost forgot…” From his back pocket, Dane retrieved a rolled-up and spiral bound twelve-by-twelve glossy calendar and handed her the tube. “Fresh off the press. All the benefits from the calendar go to the Fire Fighter Institute for burn victims. Thought you might enjoy a copy of Mr. January.”
She tapped her foot on the damp clover, wishing Garrett’s politeness and heroism in regards to retrieving Mrs. Deter’s band would cease. “Oh, a benefit… How nice—”
She stared at Dane’s spread and her thoughts immediately pictured Garrett in his place. Her tummy fluttered until her face flushed, and a deep heat nestled down low. But when she heard something and turned, it wasn’t Dane’s bare and ripped chest or the thick thighs that supported his Adonis shape that had her breath rushing in and out, nor was it the fire hose twined around his lower torso ending with the red-tipped nozzle in his hand. No, what had her practically hyperventilating was Garrett’s sudden appearance and his slack jaw as he saw what she was looking at. She hadn’t heard him exit Mrs. Deter’s house and come to stand behind her with an apple pie balanced on his palm while she practically gawked at Dane’s—hose.
Lightheaded from picturing Garrett nearly naked, she London-bridged Dane’s arm and stumbled over a large root that protruded from the ground. “Garrett, we’ll be late—”
Dane glared at Garrett, then smiled. “I didn’t realize you danced competitively. Just like the firefighter exam next week, I wish you the best of luck.”
Garrett switched the pie over to free the hand closest to hers, then reached down to twine their fingers together. “Maggie’s a good friend. I’m glad to help her win the contest.”
“Win…? Unless you dance more than I thought, you’ll have to practice every waking moment to even come close to reaching the semi-finals.”
“No problem. Maggie needs me, I’m there.”
She squirmed free of Garrett’s possessive hold. Showing him he could have a fun time doing something unexpected was more important than winning or further stressing him out. “This is about fun.”