by Jo Davis
“Chingado!” Letting loose a stream of rapid-fire curses, he leaped from the bed. “I’m late! I was supposed to be on shift at seven!”
“Whoops.” Eyeing his fine, naked backside as he disappeared into the bathroom, she stifled a giggle. “Sorry! If you’d reminded me, I would’ve set the alarm,” she called out as the shower started.
“Evil woman, already leading me down the path to destruction,” he yelled back.
“Well! Five minutes ago I was your baby.”
Ducking out of the bathroom, he trotted over and planted a steamy kiss on her mouth. “You are. I wouldn’t risk Sean’s wrath for just anyone, and don’t forget it, either.” With that, he vanished again.
She did laugh then. Couldn’t help it. The man was far too endearing for his own good—or hers.
Humming, she padded to the closet and donned her pink terry cloth robe, started a pot of coffee, and switched the television on to CNN. The coffee was only halfway finished when Julian strode into the room wearing his rumpled clothing from last night.
“If you can wait another two minutes, I can send a travel mug of coffee with you.” The drive to Sugarland, she knew, would take at least thirty minutes with morning traffic, if not longer. She couldn’t imagine dashing out without coffee.
“That’s sweet of you, but I have to run,” he said, taking her into his arms. He held her for a few seconds, nuzzling her cheek, her hair. “Wish I didn’t have to go.”
“Me, too. Sure you can’t call in sick?”
He bit his lip, appearing tempted. “I’d better not. I think we should all be at work together, make a show of solidarity, since we had the intervention yesterday. Did you know about that?”
She nodded. “Kat told me the basics—not to gossip, it’s just that she and Howard are so worried. She said Sean didn’t cooperate.”
“It went better than I thought it would, but he still refused to go for treatment. Things could be sticky around the station for a while.” He kissed her cheek, eyes warm as they met hers. “Can I see you tomorrow? We can go for a drive, get some lunch. Whatever you want.”
“I’d love that,” she said, smoothing a hand over his chest. “Call me in the morning.”
“Will do. I’ll miss you, bella.”
“Same here. Be careful out there.”
“No worries.”
Leaning into her, he gave her a brief, soft kiss, then was gone. After the door closed and his Porsche rumbled away, she stood in the middle of the living room as the latest disaster blared over CNN, and contemplated the long, lonely Saturday ahead of her.
How the heck should she fill the hours? Funny how this had never been a problem before. The condo—her entire world—seemed stark and empty. As though when he left, he’d taken all the light with him.
With a sigh, she headed for the shower, giving herself a stern pep talk. Tomorrow wasn’t so far off. Besides, it wasn’t like she needed a man to make her happy. She’d been flying solo forever, and she’d done fine, too. She wasn’t going to pine for a man even if the sexy beast had spent the past twelve hours wining, dining, and making mind-blowing love to her.
Was. Not.
Blinking, she looked around the bathroom and realized she’d been standing in front of the mirror, bath towel in hand, letting the water run.
“Well, crap.” Twenty-four hours until she could see Julian again. Might as well fess up.
Being alone really sucked.
Julian cursed all the way to work. When he wasn’t replaying last night and this morning with Grace and grinning like a jackass. The woman had his balls in a hammerlock. She was worth every second of the shit he’d get from Captain Hard-ass over being late.
An hour and a half late, by the time he sprinted inside.
“Oh, man,” Tommy crowed, glancing up from helping Zack polish the quint. “Did you bring us flowers, too?”
Zack laughed. “Woo-woo! Guess that explains a lot.”
“Shitheads,” he muttered, shrugging off his sport jacket. “Is the captain pissed?”
Tommy parked his butt against the fender. “I’m not sure he even knows you weren’t here. He said good morning to me and Eve, went into his office with Six-Pack, and they’ve been holed up in there ever since.”
“Yeah? He seem okay after the deal yesterday?”
“I wouldn’t know. That’s all he said, man. Ought to be interesting.” Tommy waved a hand at Julian. “Get in there and change, and he might not have a clue. I’m not gonna say jack.”
“Me, either.” Zack shrugged and went back to polishing. “I’ve had my hole ripped plenty by him. Wouldn’t wish it on anybody, even you.”
“Why, thanks, buddy. You’re a regular Hallmark card.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Leaving the two dickwads laughing at his expense, Julian crept inside, scouting for the big bad wolf. Eve, in the kitchen munching half a bagel, smiled when she spotted him.
“Duck when you walk by the office,” she advised. “They’re still in there.”
He shot her a grateful look. “Thanks, Evie. Nice to know I can count on someone not to give me grief.”
“Oh, I will. I’m just not awake yet.”
He grinned and headed for the hallway leading to the rooms where they shared bunks. Unfortunately, he had to pass the office to get to the room he shared with Six-Pack. When he crouched and made his way past, he was relieved not only to get by undetected but to hear that their voices were calm. Whatever they were discussing, they weren’t arguing.
He stripped and changed quickly, and had been hanging out in the kitchen with Eve for less than a minute when the duo finally emerged from the office.
“Close frigging call,” he muttered, for Eve’s ears only.
She snorted. “Was she worth it?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Was who worth what?” Howard asked, making a beeline for the coffeepot.
“The Porsche. She’s worth every penny I paid,” he said, filching the other half of Eve’s bagel.
“Uh-huh,” the lieutenant drawled, not buying a word.
Like he was going to tell a man who topped him by five inches and outweighed him by sixty pounds that he’d been banging his sister-in-law like it was last roll call to heaven.
Of course, he was serious about Grace, so—
Holy Christ, what if he and Six-Pack ended up related?
He sucked the bagel down his windpipe, choking and coughing. Eve pounded his back, short on sympathy.
“That’s what you get for stealing my breakfast.”
“My bad.” He coughed again, accepting a glass of water from Six-Pack. “Thanks.”
Sean leaned a hip against the counter, studying him with his piercing green gaze, but without the surly attitude Julian might’ve expected. “Running late this morning?”
Julian set the glass down and braced himself. He didn’t have it in him to lie to this man. Not after all they’d been through. “Yes, sir. I just got here.”
The captain considered this for a moment. “I think that’s the most direct answer I’ve ever gotten out of you, Salvatore.”
“Probably so,” he agreed, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Am I in trouble? Want me to scrub the toilets?”
“Won’t be necessary. You’re still a smart-ass, though.” And then the most incredible thing happened—Sean smiled. A sincere one, offered like an olive branch.
After almost a year and a half of hell living with the captain around the station, the gesture was so unexpected Julian was hesitant. “You’re not going to ream me?”
“Not unless you make it a habit.” Smile turning sad, Sean clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I remember when I had a reason to be late. Enjoy every minute you can.”
The captain strode out the door into the bay, and Julian stared after him, stunned. “Jesus.”
“That’s the closest I’ve heard him come to mentioning his family in over a year,” Eve murmured, eyes trained on the exit. “Right out
in the open, too. He’s finally trying.”
“He is,” Howard said in concern. “But he’s got a long way to go.”
Julian swung his attention to the lieutenant, thinking it couldn’t be easy being Sean’s best friend. In fact, the stress must be really tough, especially walking the tightrope between the job and their relationship. But Six-Pack never complained, a testament to his strength and loyalty.
A call to a traffic accident curtailed any further discussion on the matter, and Julian wasn’t sorry. His thoughts were occupied by a certain blond siren on her hands and knees, begging him to pound her hard.
Screaming when she came.
He knew he ought to focus on the nagging feeling he was missing something important regarding the Brett Charles kidnapping, but the feeling was like walking through a spiderweb. He wanted to brush it off his skin and think about happier subjects.
Like spending tomorrow with the woman he loved.
After some debate, Grace decided on casual. Khaki shorts and a red tank top were just the thing for a Sunday outing. Lunch, maybe a walk. No big deal.
A day alone, looking over some of her files, straightening the condo, and she felt almost normal again. Not so bereft or needy over Julian’s absence. Order, control, and reason were blessedly restored. What a relief!
She enjoyed spending time with her hot fireman, looked forward to seeing him. But a little time and distance went a long way toward reminding her that she wasn’t falling for him. He was a good friend who happened to be a fantastic lover. He fell into a nice, neat category in her life and surely he’d agree they were good together this way.
The knock on her door brought a surge of happiness and she had to check the impulse to rush to the door and fling it open. She was cool as a cucumber—but that didn’t stop her pulse from racing at the sight of him on her threshold.
He wore a pair of cargo shorts hanging low on his waist, a snug blue T-shirt, tennis shoes, and a pair of dark wrap-around sunglasses. A slice of flat, tanned belly between the edge of his shirt and the waistband of his shorts caught her eye. Hot damn. If they didn’t get going, she’d drag him into her bedroom and let him have his way. Again.
Before he uttered a word, he drew her in for a blistering kiss. “Ready?”
“You bet.”
She locked the door and they were on their way, to where she wasn’t sure. “Got a destination in mind?”
“I do, that is, if you like fish.”
“I love fish. Any kind, grilled, baked, or fried.”
“Great! Why don’t we head over to my neck of the woods and go to Riverview? It’s a catfish restaurant overlooking the Cumberland, but they’ve got steaks and other stuff if you’re hungry for something else.”
“Oh, I like that place! I’ve been there once with my parents and Kat.”
“It’s nothing fancy, but the view is awesome.”
“Thus the name.”
He gave her a boyish grin. “Clever, huh?”
“Hey, it’s all about marketing. People know exactly what they’re going to get.”
He held the car door open for her, gave her a pointed look. “If only all of life were the same.”
“True.”
Once they were under way, the smooth, upbeat strains of Carlos Santana filled the silence. Tapping her foot to the rhythm, Grace took the opportunity to study Julian’s handsome profile, and wondered, not for the fist time, at the positive change in him over the past few months. If she were looking for forever—which she wasn’t—was he the real deal?
Leopards and spots, he’d said. For his sake, she hoped he was simply learning to love the spots.
Twenty-five minutes later, he turned down the steep drive leading to the restaurant. Inside, the lunch crowd was thinning some and they were shown to a table. They both ordered iced tea and perused their menus, or she tried to, but couldn’t stop eyeing how he’d perched his sunglasses on top of his head. Did he have to be so freaking cute that every waitress in the room appeared to be considering him for the daily special?
“I’m doing the lunch buffet,” he said, snapping his menu closed. “Too many choices to decide.”
“Sounds good.” Laying her menu on top of his, she glanced out the window. “I’ve always loved the water, especially the Cumberland. It’s always so peaceful and lazy.”
“Usually it is. Looking at the calm surface now, it’s hard to believe we almost lost Zack out there during a storm. Right there by the bridge, in fact,” he said, pointing.
She grimaced. “How could I have forgotten?”
“It’s easy to take for granted when you’re not the one called to get people out of tight situations. To me, water rescues are the most dangerous, because of the brute force—tons of pressure per square inch. A rushing current during a flood can twist a hunk of iron or steel into a pretzel.”
The waitress placed their glasses of tea on the table and told them to help themselves to the buffet. When she’d moved away, Grace said, “I heard you saved Zack’s life.”
He shook his head. “We all did our part. Six-Pack took the real risk going in to get him.” Standing, he held out a hand to lead her to the buffet.
Clearly, he was uncomfortable discussing how his teammate had nearly died, and his own heroics. She let it drop, and her opinion of him rose several notches.
In the line, she filled her plate with more food than a sailor could eat and eyeballed Julian’s plate to see he had twice as much. The man must burn a load of energy to consume so much and not be as big as a tent!
Thinking of how he’d expended some last night, she flushed hot.
Once they were seated, she dug into a piece of catfish, crispy on the outside and flaky inside. Perfect. She’d have to walk around the block twice this evening to work off this meal, but it was worth every bite.
“Good?” He grinned, that darned dimple flashing.
“Excellent. If I keep eating with you, I’m going to grow a bubble butt.”
“Not a chance. We’ll work it off.” The twinkle in his eye told her how, too.
“Really? Suppose you tell me how.”
“I think I’ll surprise you instead.”
“I can live with that.”
They finished their lunch, enjoying pleasant chitchat, trading anecdotes about their families. Grace was amused listening to stories about Julian’s brother and sisters. She couldn’t fathom living with five siblings, but Julian made the chaos sound fun, for the most part. It was obvious he loved them very much.
At last, he pushed his plate away. “Why don’t we—”
“Jules! I thought that was you!”
Grace swiveled her head in the direction of the high-pitched feminine squeal and wished she hadn’t. An absolutely gorgeous woman who could’ve been Carmen Electra’s twin swooped in on their table—or more accurately on “Jules”—and wrapped him in an enthusiastic hug before he could even rise completely out of his seat.
“Dulce, it’s good to—hmmf!”
While Julian, to his credit, did his best to disengage, his friend greeted him with a big, noisy kiss. On the mouth. Grace stared, feeling a bit like she’d been hit between the eyes with a hammer.
Dulce? He gives all of his women pet names?
Well, wasn’t that fucking precious?
The girl ceased attempting to suck out Julian’s tonsils and beamed at Grace. Who remained seated and gave the interloper a deadly smile usually reserved for her opponents in the courtroom. The one that said, I spread people like you over my toast for breakfast every morning.
The message wasn’t received. “Hello! You must be Grace!”
“Well, yes, um—”
“Oh, Jules, no wonder you’ve been a stranger,” she said, poking him in his uninjured side and taking the seat next to him.
The woman knew her name. And Jules had been a stranger. Those facts began to compute, and her fangs receded. But only halfway.
Julian sat down again and shot Grace an apologetic half smi
le, looking like he’d inhaled a bug. “Grace, this is my friend Carmelita Gutierrez; Carmelita, Grace McKenna.” He glanced back at Grace, his laugh a bit desperate. “Carmelita has listened to me talk about you for hours. She’s an awfully good sport.”
“I’ll bet.”
Julian’s friend leaned forward and spoke in a faked con spiratorial whisper. “We hardly ever talk anymore, and when we do, it’s nothing but ‘Grace this’ and ‘Grace that.’ It’s great to finally meet the woman who stole him away from me.”
“I beg your pardon?” She narrowed her gaze at the woman, trying to decide if she was being sincere or catty.
“Well, Jules and I go way back, grew up together in San Antonio. After I moved here a few years ago, we got tight again. Shoot, we’ve been about as close as two people can be without tying the knot and popping kids. But we’ve never been serious like that. Sometimes you just need a friend to help you scratch the itch.” She snagged a fry from Julian’s plate and waved it at Grace. “You know how it is.”
Speechless, Grace looked at Julian for guidance on how to field this conversation. But Jules baby, who had his face in his hands, looked about one second away from a coronary.
Alrighty. No help there. Grace forced what she hoped was a pleasantly blank expression. “And have you found a boyfriend to . . . scratch your itch?” See me not leap across the table and throttle her.
“There is someone I’m wild for, and he finally knows I’m alive,” Carmelita said brightly. She laid a hand on Julian’s arm. “Konrad asked me out!”
He blinked at her. “Who?”
“Where are you lately? Hell-oo. The guy I’ve been telling you about for weeks.”
“Oh, yeah,” he croaked. “Right. The techie geek.”
She rolled her eyes. “He works with me at Fossier, for the tenth time. Don’t you ever listen?”
“I’m a guy. My job is to pretend I’m listening.”
“And to agree to everything the lady says.”
“Pretty much.”
As Grace listened to the dialogue bouncing between them, a couple of facts became crystal clear. One, these two shared a deep affection for each other, and the ache it caused in her chest didn’t bear thinking about. Second, Carmelita didn’t seem to have a mean, sneaky bone in her body. The woman was guileless and friendly, and that made it damned hard to dislike her.