* * *
THE SIGHT OF Pete’s bike both reassured and infuriated Maribel. So her son had ridden out here in direct defiance of her orders. Maybe Duncan was right and she was too lax, too easy on Pete. Once they got married, would Duncan get more involved in disciplining Pete? They’d never discussed that sort of thing. Pete wouldn’t like that much.
Then again, right now she could use a little help in the discipline department. She flung open the door to the warehouse and peered into the dim interior. A sharp flurry of barks greeted her. Something warm kept bumping against her shins, but she couldn’t make out anything in the darkness.
“Pete!” she yelled in a panicked voice.
“Down, Hagrid!” came her son’s voice. “Down. Be cool.” Hagrid? Maribel peered at the creature at her feet. As her eyes adjusted, she realized it was a dog. A pretty darn cute dog. Mostly white, but he looked as if someone had spilled black and brown paint on him. He stared up at her with melting brown eyes. She took a step back and collided with Kirk. He put his hands on her upper arms and gently moved her aside so he could step in front of her.
“Come on, boy.” The dog, following the firm command in Kirk’s voice, trotted after him. “Pete, tie him up. You know your mom’s allergic.”
Right on cue, Maribel sneezed. Her eyes itched. She blinked madly, blurring the sight of the stubborn scowl on Pete’s face. He bent down to snap a rope on the dog’s collar. The other end of the rope was tied around a post. He petted the dog, murmuring to it.
Maribel felt like Cruella De Vil. Still, she had to take a stand. “Pete. I told you to stay away from this place. It’s not safe. It’s an abandoned warehouse, for goodness’ sake.”
“It’s not abandoned. Kirk hangs out here. So does Hagrid. Just because you’re allergic doesn’t mean I should never get to have a dog. And I don’t even have Hagrid. I just get to visit him. And now I can’t even do that. It’s so unfair!”
Oh Lordy. If he’d named the dog Hagrid, the chances of a peaceful resolution to this mess were zero. She cast a helpless glance at Kirk.
“The dog belonged to the guy who used to rent this place,” he explained. “He had a motorcycle shop here. Looks like he left his dog behind.”
“That’s terrible.”
Pete’s face brightened. Maribel tried to steel her heart against all sympathy for the dog.
“Pete found him, and he’s been taking good care of him. Pete says he’s actually put on a little weight.”
“When I got here, he was sleeping and I thought he might be sick. I didn’t want to leave him all alone. Look, I taught him a trick.”
He gave Hagrid an elaborate, spiraling hand signal. Hagrid, with what looked distinctly like a sigh, rolled over quickly, then popped back to his feet again.
Kirk laughed, which made Maribel glance at him in surprise. She’d never seen him look carefree before. He always seemed so serious, even when ordering coffee. “Hagrid’s a smart dog. He used to ride with Gonzalez sometimes. The shop owner. He sat in front, even had a helmet. Cutest thing you ever saw.”
Maribel shook her head in despair, then sneezed again. “Pete, what do you want me to do? We can’t bring the dog home. You know we can’t.”
“Because we’re moving to New York?”
Maribel felt Kirk glance sharply in her direction. Her face went warm. Should she have told Kirk they were leaving? But they didn’t know each other that well yet. “That’s not why and you know it.”
Pete bent to cuddle the dog again. As he scratched between Hagrid’s floppy ears, the dog’s tail thumped the floor. “Then why can’t I just keep doing this for now? Take care of him out here? He likes this place. So do I. It’s fun.”
“Because . . .” Maribel put a hand to her forehead. Was she in the wrong here? Where was the section in the nonexistent motherhood manual that covered this situation? What would Pete’s father say? Then again, his father, having left town and changed his cell number the instant two lines appeared on the pregnancy test, probably wouldn’t be the best guide. “Because it’s an abandoned building. If I let you play here unsupervised, they’d take away my Mom card.”
“There’s no such thing as a Mom card.”
“I’m sorry, Pete. It’s just not safe.” She took a deep breath. “I think we should take Hagrid to the animal shelter so they can find him a good home.”
“What? They kill dogs there. You know they do!”
Maribel winced. Wrong move. “We won’t let that happen. We’ll keep checking in. If no one adopts him, we’ll find someone ourselves.”
“But we don’t know who’s going to adopt him! It could be someone horrible who never takes him for walks and feeds him crappy food and doesn’t care about him!”
“Pete, be reasonable.”
Pete screamed at the top of his lungs. “You’re not being reasonable! You’re being horrible! You should . . . they should . . . take away your Mom card!”
Maribel felt the warehouse shift around her. She thought Pete had outgrown his terrible tantrum phase. His outbursts could be horrible. Nothing made her feel worse or more incompetent as a mother. And Kirk was about to witness the whole thing, see how inept a parent she was, how little control she had over her son, how . . .
She felt a hand drop to her shoulder, a strong, warm hand. Kirk’s calm voice carried through the charged atmosphere like headlights through fog.
“Your mom’s right, Pete. I’d never have been able to play alone out here when I was a kid. I’d have been grounded about ten times over by now.”
Pete gave a surprised hiccup. Had Kirk managed to stop the hurricane before it truly got going?
“But I do have an idea. Pete, can you give us a minute? I’ll run it by your mom first and see what she says.” Not giving Pete a chance to answer, he took Maribel by the elbow and led her outside into the bright air.
“I’m sorry about that,” she mumbled, mortified. “He can be pretty fierce sometimes.”
Kirk shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “I was wondering how you would feel about Pete coming to feed Hagrid if I’m with him.”
“You mean . . .” She frowned. “You’d bring him out here? Every day?”
“Not every day. Can’t when I’m on shift. But most days I could. I’m working on my bike here anyway. It’s no trouble.”
“No trouble?” She looked at him skeptically. “You’re basically offering to babysit my kid and his stray dog. Don’t you have other things you’d rather do?”
A funny look crossed his face. He opened his mouth, then shut it again quickly.
“Anyway,” she continued, “it’s not a long-term solution. He’ll just get more attached to the dog and . . . I don’t know anything about that dog. What if he has rabies or fleas or mad cow disease or . . .”
Kirk seemed to bite back a laugh. “I can vouch for Hagrid. Gonzalez always took good care of him. But I’ll take him to a vet and get him checked out.”
“But . . . we’re going to be moving and . . .” She swallowed. Strange how hollow that last statement made her feel.
Kirk didn’t seem to like the sound of it any better than she did, judging by the way his body stilled. “Pete and I will work on finding a home for Hagrid. Someone Pete likes. I’d take him, but . . .” He snapped his mouth shut, as if he’d nearly said too much.
“You mean, you’d help him with the transition to a new owner.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Transitions are hard on kids,” she explained. “That’s what all the parenting books say.”
His silvery eyes looked down on her with such sympathy, she found herself spilling out more confidences. “I read a lot of parenting books. My parents weren’t . . . well, they travel a lot. All over the world. Everywhere except here. The air’s bad here.” Yes, that sounded just as lame is it had when her mother explained it to her.
After a moment, Kirk asked, quietly, “What about Pete’s father?”
Her eyes flicked away from his and focused on the chest muscles
under his dark blue SGFD shirt.
“Pete’s never met him. I know it must be hard. That’s why I want some stability for him. A male figure in his life. Duncan thinks Pete needs a stronger hand. He’s probably right. Pete used to have these tantrums . . .”
Even though she was still concentrating on his broad chest, she caught a glimpse of his jaw tightening. A muscle flexed in his neck. It was fascinating, watching these little signs of his inner thoughts.
“I don’t know about that,” he finally said, as though he were restraining himself from saying something much different.
“Know about what?”
“Pete’s a good kid. You see a lot of kids in my line of work. There’s nothing wrong with your son.”
As much as Maribel wanted to believe that, she couldn’t help giving him a skeptical frown. “But you aren’t a father, are you?”
“No. Is Duncan?”
Good lord, was that jealousy in his voice? And what was that hard look in his gray-green eyes, as though the next celebrity photographer he spotted would go flying across the room in a bloody blur?
Something inside her thrilled to the restrained force etched in every line of his body. What would it be like to feel that strength against her . . . inside her? She shivered.
“Mom? Kirk?” Pete called from inside the warehouse. “What are you doing?”
What were they doing? Kirk stared down at her with a look that screamed possessiveness. And she . . . she was gazing back, lips parted, breath coming quickly . . . Were they suddenly standing closer to each other than they had been two minutes ago? She didn’t recall stepping forward, or seeing him do so. And yet, her skin was tingling at his nearness, the little hairs on her arms were standing on end, as were her nipples . . .
Good Lord almighty, this had to stop! She took a wild step backward, only to feel Kirk’s hand catch her before she tripped over a chunk of concrete.
“See?” she said triumphantly, waving a finger at him. “Pete could stub his toe on something like that. He could fall on his face, start bleeding, get a concussion, not be able to find his way home . . .”
The confusion in his silver-lit eyes brought her back to earth.
“Ugh, there I go, catastrophizing again. Bad habit.”
He just kept looking at her as if she were the most fascinating being on the planet. “What’s that?”
“Think of the worst possible thing. All possible worst possible things. I do it a lot, ever since I became a parent.”
“It’s good to prepare for the worst. We do it when we fight fires too.”
“Yeah, but I think I might go overboard sometimes. It’s hard to say. It’s not like they have a catastrophe chart in any of the parenting books.”
Amusement lit his quiet face, transforming it from handsome to dazzling. A dimple appeared in his cheek, erasing his tired, drawn look. “I think you’re doing great, Maribel. You don’t need to worry so much.”
Pleasure flooded her, chasing away the thought that Duncan said pretty much the opposite.
“Mom!”
“Fine,” she said quickly, knowing from the impatient tone in Pete’s voice exactly how much time they had left. “You can bring Pete out here to take care of Hagrid. But you have to be with him the whole time. And if he has schoolwork or soccer practice, that comes first.”
“That’s fair.”
“And you promise you’ll help him find Hagrid a good home?”
“Promise.”
At his solemn tone, that of someone taking a sacred vow, she felt an unstoppable urge to thank him. Before she knew it, she was teetering forward, rising on tiptoe, and touching her lips to his jaw. The slight roughness of his past–five o’clock stubble tickled her mouth. The sunny, open-road scent of his warm skin went right to her head. His head started to move, his mouth coming toward hers, she could feel his hot, intoxicating breath against her cheek, she swayed toward him, wanting him, wanting all of him, but for now this would do, just the feel of his mouth against hers . . .
A brief, scalding contact sent fire racing through her veins. Holy crap, she thought wildly, before feeling his body pull away from hers, his lips lift away from her mouth. The door was flung open and Pete stared at them like an indignant, red-headed avenging angel.
“I’ve been yelling and yelling in there. Are you both deaf?”
“We’ve been working something out for you, Pete,” said Kirk calmly, though his eyes had darkened and his chest rose and fell more quickly than normal. “I’ll be your Hagrid-feeding escort. Every other day or so, we’ll come out here and bring him some more food, play with him and so forth.”
“Every other day?”
“I gotta work. You know, putting out fires, saving lives.” A smile ghosted across his lips. The lips that had just been touching hers, that had kissed her with a kind of intensity she’d never imagined from quiet Kirk. She put a hand to her mouth.
“I guess that’s okay,” said Pete.
Maribel made a mighty effort to get a grip on her unruly reaction to the sexy fireman. “Pete, Kirk will be in charge. He’s doing a really nice thing for you, and I want you to appreciate it.”
“I do. I do. Thank you.” Pete bobbed his head fervently.
“And your schoolwork comes first.”
“Sure.”
“No schoolwork, no Hagrid,” she repeated, just to drive home the point.
“Mom, I get it.”
“And you’re grounded for two days because you disobeyed the rules and came out here today.”
He groaned. “Fine.”
She dared a glance at Kirk, almost afraid she’d burst into flames of lust if she looked directly at him.
He was nodding gravely. “Very fair.”
“Grrrr.” Pete whirled around and disappeared back inside the warehouse, leaving Maribel and Kirk staring at each other awkwardly.
“I . . . I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I know you’re engaged, and I shouldn’t have done that.”
Her jaw dropped. Horror-struck, she stared at him. Engaged. Good lord, she’d forgotten all about Duncan. Not just during the kiss, but after, all the way until he’d brought it up. If he hadn’t, when would she have remembered? Sometime before the wedding, she hoped.
She stammered something and spun around to go after Pete. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.
AS SOON AS she’d put Pete to bed, she called Duncan. Good thing he kept rock-and-roll hours to match those of his clients. “Duncan, you have to come visit. Really.”
“Why, baby? This is a busy month, you know. I have three shoots in the next two weeks.”
“But Pete needs to get to know you better.” She landed on the first mentionable reason she could think of. “He’s freaking out about us getting married. I was thinking some time alone with him would be good.”
If it worked for Kirk, why not Duncan? Logically it made a certain amount of sense, even though she had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t be the same at all.
“Time alone? If I’m coming all the way out there, I want time alone with my babycakes.”
“Well, of course, that too.” That was the main point, wasn’t it? To get Kirk out of her brain and Duncan back into it? “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Mari. But just think, before long we’ll be together all the time. Can’t wait, baby!”
“Me neither. So you’ll come?”
“Let me check my schedule . . .” He put her on speaker so he could pull up his calendar. “Yes, let’s do it. Maybe I can set up some meetings while I’m out there. You wouldn’t mind a road trip to LA, would you? I could take you to Bar Marmont. Bet Pete would like that. Maybe I can wrangle a run-in with Daniel Radcliffe.”
Now that, Maribel had to admit, would actually impress Pete, though he normally scoffed at all of Duncan’s celebrity references. When she hung up, she felt a little better. Duncan loved her, surely he did. He could have any number of high-profile girlfriends. And he had, before he’d met her. He’d even dated a Vi
ctoria’s Secret model and one of Madonna’s dancers. But he claimed Maribel was perfect for him, his haven from the fame-hungry world in which he lived.
Yes, Duncan loved her . . . and respected her, right? Sure, he laughed a little at her reverence for the “art” of photography. Not that she claimed to be an artist, of course, but she had an awestruck admiration for those who were. Duncan found it adorable in the same way he found her photographs adorable. But that was good, right? She didn’t need him to think she was a genius. As long as he respected her, which he did, didn’t he?
Anyway, he’d finally picked a date, they were getting married, and that was that. Pete would grow to appreciate Duncan’s good qualities, as well as the amazing Manhattan lifestyle they were about to adopt—think of the schools, the museums, the culture—and he’d forget all about a goofy dog named Hagrid and the kind, pulse-poundingly handsome fireman he’d befriended.
Uninvited, thoughts of Kirk came flooding back. Not just the kiss, but everything he’d told her in the plug buggy. His bout with cancer. His refusal to be a burden on a girlfriend. Maybe he thought that was heroic, but it made her angry all over again. Damn it, someone like Kirk, someone strong and thoughtful, someone who spent his life watching out for other people, running into fires, helping out little boys, taking care of abandoned dogs . . . someone like Kirk ought to have a woman standing by him. Babying him. Loving him. Making love to him . . .
She groaned and went to take a shower. Duncan better get here soon.
Chapter Five
* * *
KIRK’S ONLY QUESTION about what had happened at the warehouse was: How badly had he screwed up? Maribel had snagged Pete and run out of there so fast, he’d barely had a chance to scribble his number on a piece of paper and hand it to the kid. But maybe the deal was off now anyway; no phone call so far, and it had been two days.
Worried about Hagrid, he’d gone out to the warehouse alone with a can of Science Diet, tossed a stick for the pup until they both got bored, then scratched his ears and said goodbye.
But not before he’d shared a few secrets with the dog, who made a comfortable, floppy-eared confidant. “She liked that kiss as much as I did, you know. And she kissed me first. Sure, it was a little peck on the jaw, but when she put her lips on me, I couldn’t think straight anymore. Can you blame me? Well, she might blame me. Then again, I think she was mad at herself more than me. She’s not the type of woman who would cheat on her fiancé. She’s probably beating herself up. Catastrophizing.” He smiled at Hagrid, who cocked his head, apparently following the one-sided conversation perfectly well. Or else wondering when Kirk would break out the next snack.
One Fine Fireman Page 4