Two Firefighters Next Door: A Bad Boy MFM Romance

by Jay S. Wilder

  Nicole shifted his pro-offered bowl next to hers and plucked a hefty walnut from the top. “Worse. Computer nerd.” She tossed the snack into her mouth and slowly chewed, well aware he was watching her.

  Snickering, he added, “You’re nowhere near nerd-dom.”

  She swallowed and then said, “Oh yeah? Want me to talk code to you?”

  “Would it be as good as the nuts?”

  “Hmmm… don’t know. Depends on how well your DOS prompt is doing these days.”

  “I didn’t even know I had one,” he said almost straight-faced.

  “Well, there’s nothing like good user interfacing or scrubbing dirty data.”

  “Interfacing is good. People should interface more often,” he added.

  “I could certainly use more RAM,” she said, cracking herself up.

  “I do have a joystick,” he added.

  She laughed hard as he played along. A gamer reference, but still. “I’m more concerned about the hardware, and whether or not your… dongle will fit my slot.”

  That seemed to do it. He shook his head in utter defeat. “If I had a white flag, I might surrender.”

  Nicole leaned in his direction and took the low ball of ice-cold amber liquid in her hand. “We’d have to negotiate a peace treaty. What do you have that I might want?”

  His eyes beamed. “You mean, besides my warm nuts?”

  She didn’t crack a smile at all, staying in character. “Right… besides the warm nuts. And the joystick.”

  The guy scratched his chin with his thumb and forefinger, mulling over his options. He lifted his phone from his lap. “An Apple for the teacher.”

  “Lame,” Nicole said and then took a swig off her potent cocktail.

  He motioned down to his boots. “These? They’re size 14. You know what they say about men with big feet.”

  “That they’re feet smell twice as much?” She couldn’t help herself. “Nice shit-kickers, though. Are you from Texas?” Those boots he wore were meant for farming or serious cattle ranching or mountain climbing.

  “No… I just like them.”

  God, she loved this. Absolutely, loved it. He was different from the guys she usually dated—not that there had been that many recently. He was certainly much more entertaining than Ryan. Immediately, he had a way of settling her nerves from the fracas she’d existed in with work, late hours, missed meals, disrupted sleep, Ryan jerking her around every which way, and now this insanity she was fleeing from.

  Was it any wonder she had to bolt?

  And, why this drink was going down so smoothly?

  And, why this guy’s fucking eyes made her pussy tighten involuntarily?

  “I’m Nick, by the way.”

  Her smile spread wide. “No shit? I’m Nic. Well, Nicole, but a lot of my friends call me Nic for short.”

  “Probably because you are short,” he teased.

  “Yes, it’s on the list of grievances I have against my parents, along with that stupid curfew I had when I was younger, making me work at the campus eatery to earn money for college, the half-moon birthmark around my belly button, oh yeah… and my mom dying when I was twelve. The height thing… well, that shit pushed me over the edge.”

  The mirth coming from her faded hastily when she realized what she’d revealed. Dammit, three sips of Chivas and she was making psychiatrist couch confessions. She wouldn’t be surprised at all if she turned her head and Nick was requesting a change of seating assignment.

  She felt his hand on hers for a brief moment. The warmth radiating from his palm sizzled against the top of her hand and spread quickly throughout her arm. It wasn’t the whiskey talking this time. It was her body coming to life underneath his touch. She didn’t know whether he was comforting her or feeling sorry for her.

  Her eyes followed the path from his hand up to his face, and she softly said, “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head. “No… I’m sorry to hear all that.” He paused and then added, “I lost my mom, too. Both my parents, actually.”

  Nicole’s eyes went wide, and she covered her mouth with her right hand. “Oh, my God. That must have been horrible. How old were you?”

  He pulled a long sip from the beer, staring ahead at the back of the bald headed man in front of them. For a moment, Nicole thought he might not respond and that he was done with her.

  “I was just a baby. I don’t really remember either one of them. Her more than him.”

  She definitely needed another swig of the whiskey. It coated her mouth with a creamy and fragrant mixture of comforting tastes, then spicy and peppery with a sweet tail note to finish. Sort of like this guy, Nick. In no time, they were completely comfortable with each other, a bit spicy in their interaction and now he was beyond sweet, identifying with her with a similar past.

  He chuckled and withdrew his hand from hers. “Aren’t we the life of the party?”

  She returned his humor. “Totally. Wait until I tell you about how my dog died… kidding!”

  “You’re adorable,” he blurted out.

  Warmth rose up her neck and stained her cheeks before she knew it. “You’re not bad yourself.”

  Not knowing what to do next, she had another sip of the Scottish blend and then chased it with a gulp of water. She didn’t need to be completely wasted out of her mind, no matter how much stress she was under.

  “So, the campus eatery?” he asked.

  Nodding, she said, “Stanford.”

  “Impressive,” he said.

  “The school or the job?” she quipped.

  “Both. Prestigious school.”

  Almost snorting, she said, “Expensive school. Where did you go?”

  Nick toyed with the condensation on his beer bottle. “University of Uncle Sam.”

  Hmmm… that explained the killer, toned physique. She’d known that body type her whole life growing up around soldiers, airmen, and sailors.

  “I thought you were military.”

  “Ex-military,” he added quickly.

  “Ahhh, which branch?”

  “Army. Special Forces.”

  It was her turn to be impressed now. Mr. Sexy was one well-trained bad-ass. “Damn,” she said and bobbed her head up and down. “Ranger? Green Berets? Delta Force?”

  He looked impressed again. “You know your stuff, huh?”

  She lifted her hand up next to her in a confessional manner. “Air Force brat who’s lived in ten states in twenty-four years. So, which was it?”

  “All the above,” he admitted. He lifted his beer and drained the rest of it as the flight attendant approached. She took the bottle from him, as well as a few cups and trash from other people. Nicole figured they must be about ready to depart.

  Let’s get out of here!

  She resisted letting out a long sigh. “How can you do all of the above?” she asked.

  Adjusting in his seat, he faced her some more. “Well, Green Berets are trained more in unconventional warfare like sabotage, subversion, gorilla shit. Rangers do the same thing, but more things like ambushes, raids, seizures on land. Delta Force deals pretty much with counterterrorism. Anything more than that and I’d have to kill you with my bare hands.”

  Their eyes synced up and held for what felt like an hour. Nicole knew if she drowned in his orbs, she’d go with a smile. Every nerve sensor in her body was on high alert. Nick was conducting his own attack on her. But fuck, she wasn’t going down without a fight.

  The overhead static from the flight announcement cracked the moment. Nick smiled and sat back, making himself comfortable. Nicole did the same, anxious to get up in the air and put some distance between her and the people out to harm her. She just wanted to be away to figure out what the fuck to do next. Thank God, her dad was on his way to meet her. He’d know exactly what to do.

  In the meantime, she was going to relax and try not to think about it for six hours. Six potential hours with the gorgeous man beside her. Six hours to see where this went and what could happ
en. After all, she might not have much longer. She didn’t want to waste a minute.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re third in line for takeoff. Please make sure your tray tables are secured, your carry-on luggage has been stowed, and your seat backs are in an upright position.

  Boldly, she reached her hand across and laced her fingers through his. Nick’s head popped down to see what she had done. His eyes questioned, but didn’t protest.

  “Do you mind? I hate the takeoff.”

  Clutching her fingers, he tightened the grip, adjusting so his large hand protectively covered hers. “You don’t like the rhythm of the forward motion and the huge thrust?”

  Her throat went dry. “I like the thrusting part.”

  He winked and squeezed a bit. “Of course, you do.”

  She hoped she had the chance to show him before someone finished her off. She’d rather he finish her off…

  Nick

  Somewhere above continental USA

  Nick couldn’t believe how well everything was going.

  Sure, he was a pro who’d done this many times, but the slickness of his communication with Nicole, as well as how all the cards played out on the table of his dealing, had his mind reeling. This case was easy enough for him, one where all he needed to do was simply gather information and watch the mark, but his instincts told him there was something more going on and all of a sudden, he now wanted to protect this woman.

  Not even a woman, really. She was young, fresh and girlish. Twenty-four. Just starting out life on her own. Yet, she was independent, headstrong, and able to take care of herself.

  Nick blinked hard at the thought because he wanted to take care of her.

  It was one thing knowing another person’s bio, dossier, and background information. It was yet another to actually hear them tell the story from their own lips with all the personal details and emotional inflections that came along with it. He never told anyone else about his parents, yet sharing that detail with Nicole was an easy part of their conversation he didn't mind sharing at all.

  The similar family experience and knowing the pain and heartache involved putting them on a somewhat even playing field. They were alike. Familiar. Sympathetic and empathetic to each other at the same time. Or, at least that was what Nick was going for with his confession.

  Something turned, though.

  The woman with the shiny brown hair and the deep chocolate eyes was starting to get to him. Faster than anyone he’d ever met. Quicker than it actually made sense to him.

  Nicole was cute, sexy, sassy, smart, and in some deep shit. But he’d keep her safe at all costs.

  He wasn't sure if that meant he would have to pay with his job or his own life, neither of which sounded like perfect endings. However, he’d been in the military so long and had lived such a strict, controlled, orderly life, followed by his time in The Company, Nick Taylor, the man, had almost been lost underneath the uniform, camouflage, medals, bravado, and pretense.

  Had this sassy and sexy brunette completely done something to the inner workings of this very disciplined and straightforward man? He could try to blame it on the two beers, but that would be fooling himself, given that he could drink most people under the table. Something he’d found to be very convenient when he had to go deep into a mission, blend in with a crowd of potential informants.

  Even though she was small in stature, thin, and healthy-looking, Nicole was enjoying her drink. No girly fruit drink or designer cocktail for her. Straight liquor. Fifteen-year-old scotch. Hell, he respected any woman who could drink with the best of them. It was quite apparent that she was relaxing into her seat as the tension surrounding her was beginning to lift even as their aircraft climbed higher and higher into the clouds.

  Now, his body tensed. Perhaps a shift from her or simply because he didn’t know what the hell was going on. What was he going to do about this situation? There were so many what-ifs floating about in his brain, fighting each other to be heard over the other thought. All he could think about was the feel of her hand against his and the spark it caused deep within his gut as their fingers intertwined on takeoff.

  The plane wasn’t the only thing lifting off.

  His dick had a mind of its own, wanting to come out and play with the sassy chick in the seat beside him.

  It had been a while for him—longer than usual—and his urges were starting to take over his common sense. This shouldn’t ever happen, not with his Army Ranger training. He was supposed to be more disciplined than that. The guy who had a mission, a purpose, orders, and directions.

  But that was right up until he got a delicious view of her tight ass in those jeans. Having her slide up against him like that certainly didn’t help to quench the fire within him. No, it made him want to peel the denim off her and maybe get a peek at that crescent moon birthmark she’d mentioned after he got to take her hard.

  He squeezed his eyes tightly and groaned at the arousal he’d managed to stir up in his own mind. How was he going to get through this flight?

  “Hey there…” Nicole’s sweet voice interrupted his mental musings. “Where did you go just now?”

  Nick scanned her face with his eyes. He didn’t really want to lie to her too much. It would only come back to bite him in his ass in the end. No pun intended. “Oh, sorry. I was scrolling through my mental ‘to-do’ list,” he said. Sure, that sounded good, he thought. Everyone traveling on a plane was either going somewhere for business or for pleasure, so playing along with the whole busy entrepreneur song and dance made sense.

  She dragged her finger along the rim of her empty glass. “What is it you do, Nick?”

  “I don’t want to bore you with that.”

  Figuring she wanted something else to drink, Nick flagged down their flight attendant and signaled for another round for the two of them.

  “I don’t think you could ever bore me,” she said, peering up through her long lashes.

  Chuckling, he said, “You’re sweet. Maybe you do need another drink if you ask me things like that.”

  Nicole let out a half sigh, half giggle, and continued toying with her drained beverage. “I haven't had much to drink lately,” she admitted. “I've been working so many late nights and extra hours that I barely had a social life.” She thought for a moment and then added, “Strike that. I don’t have a social life. Period.”

  “Come on. You have men lined up at your door, I’m sure.”

  It was her turn to chuckle. “I wished. Nope. The only men I see regularly are on my Instagram.”

  Nick leered at her. “I hate them already.”

  The sound of their laughter blending together was strangely soothing, almost imprinting on his somewhere long locked away in his chest.

  “I totally get where you’re coming from,” he said. “People like us tend to marry the job, at the expense of everything and everyone else.”

  “So true.”

  That wasn't a total lie. In the past month, he had been to China, Saudi Arabia, the countryside of France, and had slipped in and out of Russia unnoticed, undetected, and unsatisfied, since the mission he’d been sent to deal ended up being a non-issue as soon as he got there. He hated wasting time, but he managed to take in some of the beauty and history of Moscow before heading off to China for the assignment he just finished. His sleep schedule consisted mainly of snoozing between flights in rental cars or in the airport or getting to stretch out and get a few hours of deep REM those times The Company paid for his upgrade to first class.

  He wished this flight had convenient sleep pods like the one he’d taken from China. His imagination ran into all sorts of wild directions as he considered the possibilities of getting tangled up with Nicole Hunt in one of the high-tech sleeping units.

  But, he really needed to stop looking at her as an available female and remember he had been sent to do a job. This wasn’t simply intel. She was in danger. Grave danger. Seriously deep, fucked up trouble if the wrong people got their hands on her an
d whatever it was she carried with her.

  Instead of focusing on her full, pink lips, he needed to devise a plan for getting that USB drive out of her purse or pocket or computer bag.

  Before she boarded the plane, he’d considered dropping something into her drink to help her sleep, but that was too much of a dick move and not something he wanted to do to her, especially after all she’d been through. Besides, he would have been denying himself the pleasure of her company, witty banter, and sexy come-ons.

  Then again, Nicole was doing well enough anesthetizing herself with the Chivas. Nick had a feeling a nap was in her very near future without any assistance from him.

  The flight attendant returned and sat there refreshed drinks on the console between them. “Do either of you know what you’d like to have for lunch?”

  Nick and Nicole exchanged glances with each other. He hadn’t even realized it was lunchtime. Now, his stomach growled out.

  “I need to look over the menu,” Nicole said, and Nick nodded in agreement.

  The perky flight attendant smiled and handed them each a laminated card with food choices. “I’ll come back in a minute after you've had a chance to decide.”

  Nick watched as Nicole's eyes brightened perusing the menu choices that wouldn't generally impress anyone else. Nicole Hunt, on the other hand, was in hog heaven in her first-class princess’s chair and he felt like the king of the world having provided it to her.

  “Holy shit, is this really the food they serve in first-class?” she asked. “All you get back in coach and economy are salads with wilted toppings, sandwiches with no condiments, or a half-can of Pringles that costs eight dollars.”

  “What looks good to you?” Nick asked. He looked at the choices of duck confit pot pie, slow braised lamb, and grilled chicken with green beans and grain risotto. Nicole didn’t strike him as the “froufrou” food type and figured she'd much prefer a thick cheeseburger and steak fries.

  Come to think of it, so would he.

  “I'm going for the lasagna with red pepper crema.” Nicole screwed up her nose in a very childlike manner. “I don't really even know what a crema is, but I'm willing to give it a shot.”