Burning Ambition

by Amy Knupp

  Joe wasn’t sure what to say, so he said nothing.

  “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking you could do it better. All it takes is some balance.”

  “No. I’m thinking all kinds of things, but that isn’t one of them.”

  Joe had never considered his ideal job in such black-and-white terms before.

  Job or woman. Job or family.

  In his view of his future, the details had always been blurry. The job was clear—it was always the fire department. One day the chief. But the rest…there’d been an amorphous idea of a wife and kids floating around in his vision, but they were a consideration for later. Who knew when. And they sure as hell had never had faces.

  Until now.

  But he couldn’t let a couple of nights of excellent sex sway him. Faith was beautiful and competent. She had her own bright future. They’d never discussed anything beyond the here and now, and that said something about her intentions—or lack of them.

  “The job comes first with me,” Joe told the chief. “It always has.”

  “I don’t want you hurting my daughter. Is this going to hurt her?”

  “You’d have to ask her, sir. But we’re not deeply involved.”

  Chief Peligni nodded. “The longer it goes on, the more it will hurt her. Just talk to my wife.”

  “I understand.”

  “We’re clear then?”

  “We’re clear.”

  Chief Peligni stood and held his hand out. “No guarantees what will happen, but I’m behind you one hundred percent.”

  “Thank you, Chief,” Joe said as he rose and shook hands. “I won’t let you down.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  IT WAS A BAD IDEA to come here tonight, Joe thought to himself.

  As a captain, he’d had to show up, but he should’ve toasted Assistant Chief Jones two hours ago, then cut out early.

  Instead, he was still sitting here at the table in the corner of the Shell Shack patio, half listening to Ed Rottinghaus rattle on about his ex-wife, and trying not to watch Faith.

  Which was next to impossible.

  She sat on the concrete wall, her back to the Gulf, her blonde friend next to her and a group of firefighters around them. Some of the married ones—Derek, whose wife was working behind the bar, Evan, Olin—and a couple of single ones that Joe felt compelled to keep an eye on.

  As if he had a say in who Faith could interact with. He’d made his decision earlier, surrendered the right to be involved in her life in any way.

  Even if she didn’t know it yet.

  That was the bitch of it…he’d seen her looking his way numerous times. Caught the heat and longing in her eyes. Had to pretend he hadn’t noticed.

  He’d always thought she was hotter than hell in her drab SAIFD uniform after working a fire for ten hours. Tonight, she was nothing short of stunning. Her normally straight hair had a tousled-looking curl to it. She wore a spaghetti-strap black tank with rows and rows of small ruffles and sparkles that should’ve looked ridiculous but were sexy as hell. With black jeans that made her legs look even longer and more slender, black and silver-studded stilettos and lots of silver jewelry, she’d turned just about every head in the place at some point tonight.

  And yet she met his eyes across the patio. Again.

  FAITH HAD STOPPED DRINKING an hour ago.

  She’d had only three beers, but with each one, she’d found it harder and harder to stay away from Joe. Though going public no longer worried her, she knew his feelings about it and would respect them until they had a chance to talk. Hopefully, he would see her rationale and agree to come clean with her dad.

  Hyperaware of everything Joe did, Faith tried hard to pay attention to the conversation around her. Laugh when appropriate. Answer when spoken to. Damn, he was distracting.

  It was nearly ten-thirty when Nate showed up, awkwardly making his way toward their group with a large cast and crutches. Everyone greeted him loudly, a little extra enthusiastically.

  “Surprised to see you out and about already,” Derek said, pulling up a chair for him.

  A waitress came over and asked Nate for his drink order. “Shot of vodka. Make it two.” When she took orders from the rest of the group and left, he said, “Sometimes you’ve got to self-medicate.”

  Everyone laughed and a few told him they were glad he was okay.

  Nate leaned forward to look around Nadia’s legs at Faith. “You,” he said. “Thanks for not letting me lie there and die last night.”

  Faith hid her surprise and smiled nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t been her biggest doubter in the past. “Olin and Clay deserve the credit. They did all the heavy work.”

  The waitress handed him his shots and distributed the rest of the drinks. Nate held up one of his glasses as a salute to Faith. “You kept your cool, got them in there and kept all of us from being barbecued. I’d fight a fire with you by my side anytime.”

  Faith raised her cup of water and tapped his shot glass, then they drank together.

  As she drained her cup, Joe stood up across the way. Her heart inexplicably sped up, as if he might come over and talk to her group, but he didn’t even look at her. He said something to the people at his table, something that looked like goodbye.

  She watched him walk away. Watched for a sign, a subtle signal that he was hoping she would follow him, but saw nothing.

  She waited fifteen minutes, assured herself Nadia was fine on her own, congratulated Assistant Chief Jones one more time, then followed Joe, anyway.

  “IT WORKED,” Faith said without preamble when Joe opened his front door. He’d been home just long enough to grab a beer.

  “What worked?”

  “The playing-hard-to-get thing. I followed you home like a puppy.”

  “So I see.” Two days ago, that would’ve made him a happy man. Today it was torment.

  He looked behind her, checking for a car or someone who might recognize them. The street was empty of both.

  He opened the door farther and let her inside. An awkward silence descended on them as his mind flipped through his options. He had to find a way to have the discussion they needed to have without touching her. Being tempted by her.

  “Are you busy?” she asked nervously, looking around his living room for who-knew-what.

  When she finally turned her gaze to him again, their eyes met. Held. God, he wanted to kiss her. As if reading his mind, she moved into his arms, and though he knew he should fight it, he couldn’t resist one last touch.

  They kissed, lightly at first, like a couple who’d been together for years and away from each other for the day. Then he was drawn in, like a hummingbird that had gotten a taste of the nectar and needed more to live.

  He throbbed with need for her even though their only contact was their lips, her hands around his neck and his at the sides of her waist.

  “Joe,” she whispered between kisses. “Can we talk about something?”

  It took him several seconds for the message to get through to his brain, for him to pull back and respond.

  “Yeah. We need to talk.” Before he got any more carried away. “Let’s sit down.” He gestured to the couch. When she sat on the end cushion, he took the chair at a right angle to it in an attempt to put space between them.

  Both of them leaned forward over their knees. Faith reached out and took his hand in hers. He had to restrain the urge to draw her hand to his mouth and kiss it. He watched her thumb nervously trail back and forth over his fingers.

  “I think we should tell my dad about us,” she began.

  Hell, that wasn’t what he’d expected at all. He didn’t know what he’d thought she might say, but she’d blind-sided him by bringing up her father. “I thought you didn’t want anyone to know.”

  It was a stall, he knew. He was a coward. Finding the words to tell her about his meeting with the chief was proving a challenge.

  “I didn’t. But that was before.” She launched into an explana
tion of how the fire had affected her, that he’d given her the boost she’d needed to figure out how to trust herself again.

  “You did that yourself, Faith.”

  “A little push never hurts. I was worried about what people thought. Needed to prove myself without people concluding any success I had was because of you.” She smiled and his stomach knotted. This wasn’t the talk they were supposed to be having.

  “Faith.”

  She stopped short as she was about to say more, as if finally sensing they weren’t on the same wavelength.

  “We can’t be together anymore,” he said bluntly. Best to rip the bandage off quickly, for both of them.

  To her credit, her expression didn’t change. Showed nothing. She stared at him for several long seconds, then stood. Walked to the TV cabinet on the opposite wall. Picked up the framed photo of him and his mom and studied it. Set it down.

  Her silence was killing him.

  Joe got up, closed the space between them. He stood behind her.

  She spun around and looked up at him. “Am I allowed to ask why?” Now the hint of vulnerability showed in her eyes.

  “Chief called me in today, right after I got home from work. This isn’t for public knowledge yet.”

  “Okay,” she said slowly.

  “They aren’t going to refill the assistant chief position. Budget cuts.”

  “What?” She touched his forearm. “Joe, I’m sorry.”

  “Have you talked to your dad lately?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not ready to yet. I know I need to….”

  Damn. Joe hated to break the chief’s news to her, but he didn’t know how else to explain the situation.

  “Maybe you should sit down.”

  “What’s wrong, Joe? Is he okay?”

  He nodded toward the couch.

  “I’m not sitting down,” she said. “What’s going on?”

  “He’s fine. In fact, I think you’ll consider at least some of it good news. It’s not my place to tell you this, but it’s relevant to us. You and me.” Joe hesitated. “He’s decided to retire this year.”

  “My dad? He’s quitting his job?”

  “Retiring. To rescue his marriage, is what he said.”

  “He and my mom are back together?” Her head tilted in question, eyes searching. “The smarmy man is history?”

  “I don’t know the details. You need to talk to him about all that….”

  She was thoughtful for a moment, then returned her attention to him. “So they’ll have to hire a chief. And you’re interested.”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay…and?”

  Joe paced back to the chair and sat on the edge of it, so damn worn-out. Faith stood in front of him. “What, Joe?”

  “I admitted to your dad that I had feelings for you.”

  THE WEIGHT OF THAT finally made Faith sit on the couch again. “Feelings for me.” One and one were not adding up to two here.

  “You know that, Faith,” Joe said, weaving their fingers together loosely on her knees.

  “I don’t know anything of the sort. You just told me we can’t see each other. Stupidly, I thought things were going pretty well, and then wham! Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

  “Your dad gave me an ultimatum.” He said it as if that explained everything, but Faith didn’t understand.

  She pulled her hand away from his and rubbed her temples.

  “He’ll recommend me for the position,” Joe said quietly. “But only if I’m not involved with you.”

  Faith shot off the couch, the urge to break something, anything, pounding through her. “He made you choose? Really?”

  “He’s afraid I’ll hurt you, Faith.” Joe was suddenly standing right behind her and she spun away.

  “Ha. Hurt me? Yeah, I can pretty much imagine that in vivid color. Did you tell him you already were?”

  Joe’s eyes closed briefly. “I don’t want to hurt you, now or later.”

  “Too late.” Her damn voice wavered when she said it. “Why would he do that?” she asked, focusing on the anger at her dad to avoid letting that hurt seep in.

  Joe let out a long shaky breath, making her wonder if maybe he wasn’t totally okay with this.

  “I’m a lot like your dad, Faith. Professionally, I take that as a compliment.”

  She nodded, unable to disagree.

  “He’s afraid I’m like him in his personal life, as well.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Relationshipwise. Says I’m the kind of guy to put the job before a marriage.”

  Faith laughed at the absurdity. “We’ve not even come out of the closet about seeing each other and he already has us divorced? Do you know how stupid that is, Joe? How dumb it is to let him dictate what we do?”

  “I told you before, I love my job, Faith,” he said simply.

  “That’s great. How do you know you’d love being chief as much?”

  He studied her. “You think I’m making a mistake, don’t you? Going for these promotions?”

  She stared back at those dark eyes that still stirred her. “That’s not for me to say. You have to figure that out yourself, Joe. You have to figure everything out for yourself.” She swallowed hard, trying to will away the emotion that was causing a lump in her throat. “All I can tell you is this. I care about you. A lot. I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I haven’t felt like this in—maybe ever.”

  “I care about you, too, Faith. Don’t doubt that.”

  “But not enough.”

  “I’ve planned this my whole—”

  “Your whole life. I know, Joe. And that’s fine, if it’s what you want more than anything else. If you truly want to be fire chief for your own fulfillment, more than you want to have someone to fall asleep with every night, then I’ll wish you the best. If you’re doing it because you’re supposed to, because it’s what your dad wanted, or your mom, or my dad, or anyone else…I’ll be very sad for you.”

  His jaw and shoulders stiffened and he looked away. She had her answer. Regardless of what his reasoning was, he was going with the job.

  Her chest ached as she took one last long look at him. “I hope you get the job, Joe. I hope it’s worth it.”

  FAITH SWUNG THE DOOR OPEN so hard it crashed into the wall. If her father hadn’t been awake before, he would be now. Which was her point.

  “What in the name of God is your problem?” her dad said. He stood in front of the kitchen sink with a sponge and a bottle of kitchen cleaner, acting as if it was noon instead of midnight and he was used to doing housework. It was a sight so foreign to Faith that she stared for several seconds.

  Then she snapped out of it and remembered why she was there.

  “As if you didn’t know.” She closed the door, again less than gently. “I just talked to Joe.”

  “Do you know what time it is, Faith?”

  She glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Eleven forty-seven Peligni time. That thing’s been three minutes fast for months.”

  “I don’t appreciate you slamming in here at almost midnight like this.”

  “I don’t appreciate you butting into my personal life.”

  He threw the sponge in the sink and gave her his full attention. “What did Joe tell you?”

  “Everything I needed to know. You’re retiring. You and Mom are getting back together. You made him choose between me and the job.”

  “Your mom and I are taking it slow. Working on it. I’m cooking her dinner tomorrow.”

  That explained the midnight cleaning expedition.

  “You don’t know how to cook.”

  “I’m grilling. Making salads.”

  On some level she was thrilled they were trying, but she wasn’t in the mood to give him a pep talk or congratulations.

  “That just leaves the retirement and the ultimatum. If I can make a suggestion, you might try telling your family you’re retiring from your forty-some-year career before you spre
ad the word to others. Assuming that you’re turning over a new leaf and putting family first.”

  He met her eyes. Nodded. “I deserved that, I suppose. As for Joe knowing first, it wasn’t my choice. He won’t tell anyone else until I make it public.”

  “Would’ve been nice to hear it from you.”

  “When have you been around for me to tell, Faith?” His voice climbed in volume. “I screwed up with the drink-a-thon. I understand that you’re still mad. But don’t go throwing around blame at me for not talking to you when you won’t let me talk to you.”

  “Two topics down,” she said, grabbing the sponge from the sink and the bottle of cleaner. She sprayed the counter and went after it with everything she had. “That just leaves the running-my-life one.”

  “Stop cleaning and let’s discuss this like adults.”

  “This place is a pigsty. You need help.”

  If she didn’t scrub at the stains on the counter from the past two weeks, she might end up throwing a plate or crushing a glass. Just for kicks.

  “I don’t want you to get hurt, Faith.”

  “What a coincidence. I already have been. Thanks to you.”

  “How involved are you two?” Her dad ran his fingers over his eyes as if this was giving him a headache. Him.

  “Involved enough that I’m here at midnight to tell you what I think of you trying to ruin a chance at happiness for me.”

  He had the gall to look pained.

  “Haven’t I proved that a man dedicated to that job has a tough time handling his home life?”

  “Joe isn’t you, Dad. He may be the best captain in the department, as dedicated as you are to the job, but that doesn’t mean he’ll make the same mistakes as you.”

  “But he might. And I can’t stand the thought of anyone putting you through what I’ve put your mother through over the years.”

  “So you thought you’d rush in and save the day. Save your daughter from potential heartbreak. Or was it that you wanted him fully focused on the job? With no outside distractions?”

  “Speaking as the chief, as someone who’s put everything I had into that department for so long, hell yes, I do want him fully focused on the job. But more than that, I want you to find someone who will be devoted to you first, princess.”