by Loraine, Kim
The end of his twenty-four-hour shift hadn’t come soon enough and he heaved a sigh of relief as he walked the three blocks to his apartment. All he wanted was a shower, a nap, and maybe to get laid. He needed to release some tension, blow off some steam. Valerie had him all spun up.
A few hours later, he sat alone at Dive, the only bar within walking distance of his apartment. Three beers down and a nice buzz dulling his inhibitions, he scanned the bar for likely companions. A DJ began setting up, while tables and chairs were shifted to make room for a dance floor. Glancing at the chalkboard sign hanging over the bar he chuckled. Ladies night, no cover charge, and a guest DJ on a Saturday night. He congratulated himself on being so accidentally brilliant and ordered another beer. Soon, women poured in, dressed in short skirts, low-cut tops, and caked with makeup. All he needed to do now was wait.
Sure enough, after a few minutes, he was flanked by two ladies looking for some fun. One, a peroxide blonde with fake tits and cloying perfume, pressed against him and batted her eyelashes.
“So, you’re a firefighter? That’s so brave.” She traced the GBFD logo on his shirt.
He downed the rest of his beer and grinned. “It’s part of the job description.”
“Don’t you ever get scared?”
“Sure, but when you’re running into a burning building because someone’s trapped inside, you have to put your fear away.” The line fell so easily from his lips these days. Douche.
Woman number two sighed and ran her acrylic nails over his bicep. “You’re such a hero.” She looked at her friend. “We’re so lucky we found him tonight, aren’t we, Macey?”
Macey nodded and giggled. The music changed and the ladies jumped up. “C’mon, handsome. Let’s go dance.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “No way. You go. I’ll watch.”
They moved in a graceless jumble. Their arms tangling and flailing in the air, faces contorting in what they must’ve thought were attractive pouts. The blonde looked a little like Valerie. Well, if he closed one eye and only looked at her hair. He ordered another beer and took a long pull from the bottle.
“Donovan Miller. How’s the groin?”
He spluttered at the sound of Valerie’s voice.
There she was, all fresh and clean. Her light-scented perfume causing a knot to release in his chest. She wore a tight-fitting pair of jeans tucked into boots and a deep blue top which showed just a hint of cleavage, a tease really.
“You look . . . good,” was all he could manage.
“Thanks.” Her smile brightened.
“Want to dance?” The words fell from his mouth before he could stop them.
She shook her head. “No. I want a drink. I’m meeting a . . . friend.”
“Wait, are you on a date?”
“Lena set me up.” Embarrassment colored her cheeks.
“So, what are you doing talking to me?” Jealousy bubbled up uncontrollably.
She looked down at the bar, tracing the edge of a cocktail napkin with one finger. “He’s ten minutes late. I’m pretty sure I’ve been stood up.”
The storm inside him abated, replaced by the steady burn of confidence. “His loss. What’re you drinking?”
Her eyes brightened. “Cosmo.”
He really was beautiful, in a rakish kind of piratey way. Valerie sipped her second cosmopolitan and watched Donovan scan the room. His moss-green eyes locked on hers, causing her to flinch in embarrassment at being caught.
“See something you like?” He cocked one eyebrow and flashed his smirk again.
She bit her lip, considering. “Yes.”
His mouth dropped open. A thrill ran through her at the look on his face. His eyes burned into hers once the realization of her meaning hit him.
Her hand, cold from the rush of adrenaline her brazenness brought, entwined with his and she pulled him to the dance floor. The music filled her, deep bass shaking her from the inside out. He pulled her close against his body and moved them together. His hands slid around her waist and down her hips, keeping her connected with him. She ran her hands up his muscled chest and shoulders, reaching up to tangle her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.
He lowered his face to hers, tension building as she watched his lips come closer to her own.
“Can we get out of here?” His breath tickled her ear.
She nodded, afraid her voice would break if she spoke. As she trailed behind him through the pulsating crowd, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety had her nerves jangling. Her skin was electrified, every brush of his hand sent sparks through her. Was she really about to have a one-night-stand with this beautiful man? A few blocks down, he stopped in front of an apartment building and stared at her hard.
“This is me. You sure about this?” Clear and focused eyes held hers.
In answer, she rose on tiptoe and placed a kiss on his lips. She reveled in their warmth and softness. He moaned against her mouth and swiftly lifted her to him, effectively deepening the kiss and igniting the passion which had been smoldering under the surface. Her hands linked behind his neck and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he walked them into an elevator. He pressed her against the wall, cupping her breast as the doors closed.
“I’ll take that as a yes?” His voice was low and rough, sending shivers down her spine.
The elevator dinged to announce their arrival and he set her down on wobbly legs. His apartment was surprisingly neat and tidy, not at all the sloppy bachelor pad she’d been expecting.
“You live alone?” Worry clawed its way into her thoughts. Did he have a girlfriend? She wasn’t about to be a home wrecker.
“Yeah. I’m not here much. I’m usually on my boat if I’m not at the firehouse.”
One hand rubbed at the stubble on his cheek. “You have a boat?”
He reached for a framed photo on the mantle. “There she is. My granddad passed her down to me before he died.”
It was a sailboat, about thirty feet. Beautiful woodwork and in wonderful shape. In the photo, Donovan was smiling brightly with his arm around a frail old man who must’ve been his granddad.
“Sweet Susan?” she asked after reading the name.
“It was my grandma’s name.”
Her heart gave a squeeze. “That’s sweet.”
He took her face in his hands. “You’re sweet.”
Before she could laugh at his cheesy line, his lips were on hers. Heated kisses trailed down her jaw and neck. She shivered when his teeth nipped gently at her collarbone. Dropping to his knees, to make up for the difference in their heights, he layered kisses down the low neckline of her top.
“I’m so glad you got stood up tonight.” His fingers lifted the hem of her shirt and he pulled it over her head.
His stubble brushed the top of her breasts as he continued to place light kisses across her torso.
“Me, too. I’d much rather have one night with someone like you.”
He paused abruptly. “One night?”
Doubt started worming its way into the back of her mind. “Well, yeah. Isn’t that what this is?”
He turned up his face to look her in the eye, the hurt expression making her wish she could eat her words.
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
The air left the room. What did he mean? That was all he did, according to Lena.
He stood and took her face in his hands again. “Look, sweetheart. I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’m not all bad. I think we could be something very good together.”
She took a step away, panic filling her chest. This was not what she was looking for. She didn’t want another relationship with an arrogant bad boy. She was still picking up the pieces from her last one.
“What are you doing?” He grabbed
her hand and pulled gently, an attempt to coax her back to him.
“I need to go. This was a bad idea.”
“Come on, Valerie. What did I do?”
She shook her head. “It’s not you. It’s me.”
Chapter 6
“You slut. You totally went home with Donovan Miller. Tell me everything. Is he amazing? I bet he is.” Lena practically vibrated across the living room when Valerie walked out of her bedroom the next morning.
“Chill out. It’s way too early to be so strung out.” Annoyance seeped out of her words. She’d spent most of the night tossing and turning, arguing with herself about her decision.
She headed to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee and debated what she would tell Lena. Settling on the truth, she trudged into the living room and plopped down on the couch.
“So?” An expression of barely-contained excitement graced Lena’s eager face.
“Nothing. We didn’t sleep together.”
Her friend’s expression morphed to one of incredulity. “What? Why in God’s name not?”
“I . . . It was a mistake.” She stumbled, unsure of how to tell Lena she’d passed on a chance of something more than one night with a beautiful man like Donovan.
“Well, I think it’s probably better. You’re not the one-night type.”
Her hackles rose. “Actually, he shut it down. He got upset when I said it was a one-night thing.”
Lena made an ugly choking noise. “What? And you turned him down?”
“Lena, I don’t want a relationship with a guy like him. I’ve done that before and it wasn’t good.”
“You mean Mick? Not everyone is like him.”
Valerie grabbed a lock of her hair and focused on twisting it back and forth. “He was just like Donovan. Arrogant, over-confident, and self-absorbed.” Anxiety tightened her chest at the memory. “Things with Mick got scary.”
“Whatever. I still can’t believe you didn’t hit that. As much as I hate him, I’d totally take him home.” Lena stretched out her long legs and yawned. “I gotta go. I’ve got a shoot in an hour.”
“How’s the life of a photographer treating you these days?”
“It’s good. We’re filling up fast with engagement and wedding jobs. This one is a surf magazine. Should be fun.”
Valerie chuckled. “Have a good time.”
Lena grabbed her camera bag from its usual spot on the table and breezed out the door, leaving Valerie in a comfortable silence. She sat on the couch, nursing her now lukewarm coffee, alone with her thoughts. Donovan wormed his way to the forefront as she sipped from her cup and tried to watch some mindless show. The feel of his heated kisses trailing down her ribcage, his calloused fingers on her skin. She shivered at the memories.
Did she really want to pass up an opportunity to have that every night? Then memories of Mick invaded and reminded her why she didn’t want a guy like him again. He was so far from the kind of guy she needed.
A loud banging on her door startled her from the harsh memories.
Angela stood at her door, deep lines of worry etched on her usually serene face.
“Angie? What’s wrong?” Fear knotted in her stomach, a cold pit.
Angela’s lower lip trembled and her voice shook. “Asher. He had a seizure.”
Fear built at every word. “What? Why didn’t you call me?”
“You’re not answering your phone.”
She dug through her purse and a sinking feeling took hold as she realized exactly where her phone was. She could picture it, sitting on the mantle in Donovan’s apartment.
“He’s in the children’s wing of the hospital. They’re meeting with a pediatric neurologist now.” Angela sat on the couch, lowering her head into her hands.
“But he’s okay?”
Watery eyes met hers. “We don’t know yet. It was a big seizure. He was on the floor . . .”
“Okay. Let’s go see what we can do.”
She ran to her room and threw on the first things she found; old jeans with holes and a tattered Virginia Tech sweatshirt.
The hospital brought back so many terrible memories. Her shoes squeaked on the glossy tile floor, making her cringe. So many days spent walking these halls, pacing, waiting, and praying. She had to remind herself that this wasn’t the same. Asher wasn’t in a coma. He wasn’t going to die. He wasn’t Simon.
The neurologist came out of Asher’s room just as they arrived. He smiled encouragingly, and as he took in their expectant faces, he nodded.
“He’ll be fine.” His words lifted a weight from Valerie’s chest.
The girls burst into the room and ran to their little brother’s bedside. His eyes were closed peacefully in sleep, even with electrodes attached to his scalp under layers of gauze. He looked like a child who’d just had brain surgery. She had to bite back a terrified gasp.
“He’s fine, girls,” their mom said in a hushed tone. “They’re keeping him under observation for the next few days. The doctor is pretty confident it’s epilepsy and they’re optimistic that he can be treated successfully.”
Valerie braced herself on the bedrail as her knees buckled. “You’re sure?”
Her mom crossed the room and wrapped her in a warm embrace. “Yes, honey. I’m sure. He’ll probably need anti-seizure meds and regular EEG’s to monitor him, but it’s possible he’ll grow out of this.”
“Valerie. It’s okay.” Her dad’s deep baritone pulled her from the past.
She sniffed and nodded. “So, he’s got to be here how long?”
“Three days. I’m going to need your help, girls. Someone has to be with him at all times. We can’t do that without leaving Brandon and Riley to fend for themselves. Ry is studying for midterms right now and you know how stressed he gets.”
Angela piped up. “I don’t work until five tomorrow so I can handle a morning shift here. Val, can you come after work?”
She nodded and grinned at her sister’s assertive attitude.
“Thanks, girls. We know this is a lot to ask.” Pride showed clearly on their dad’s face.
Valerie left Asher’s hospital room on edge. She hated being in the children’s ward, with its overly cheerful decorations, brightly colored furniture, and nurses who wore cartoon characters on their scrubs. In truth, if you were visiting a kid in the children’s ward, your life was in a bad place. Her heart squeezed at the memory of Simon, his tiny four-year-old form nestled in that big bed, unresponsive, and deteriorating. A tear slipped down her cheek and she swiped at it hurriedly when she heard shoes coming down the hall.
“Valerie. We meet again.” Blake strode down the hall looking delicious in his dark slacks, blue button-down shirt, tie, and white coat.
“Wow, look at you. You look so . . . doctorly.”
He grinned and rewarded her with a slight chuckle. “That is what I do now. But what are you doing here?”
“My brother had a seizure. He’s here for a three day EEG.”
Blake put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “That must be hard for you. I’m sure it brings back lots of bad memories.”
His words pushed her closer to the edge. Her lip trembled and she fought the urge to blink for fear of spilling the tears waiting to be released.
“He’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure he will.”
“Well, um . . . good to see you again, Blake.”
He pulled her in for a hug. “You, too. Can we catch up soon? Maybe dinner?”
“Uh, sure.”
He took his phone out of the pocket of his coat. “Give me your number so we can set something up.”
She rattled off her phone number and left in a hurry. Did she really want to go there again with Blake? He’d broken her heart into a billion tiny p
ieces when he left her five years ago.
Sweat coated Donovan’s skin as he pushed himself in the weight room of the firehouse. Still reeling from Valerie’s failed attempt at a one-night-stand, he tried to push her out of his mind. His legs trembled as he finished the last set of leg presses and moved on to free weights. His thoughts betrayed him as he curled his bicep and fell into a repetitive rhythm.
Valerie—her soft skin, wide eyes, and silky flaxen hair. Why had he been such an idiot and let her assumption that he wouldn’t want more get to him? The fact was, he’d had plenty of meaningless flings. Rarely did he ever have a relationship with any kind of substance. So, why did this one hurt?
“I’m pretty sure you’re done with that arm, dude.” Klipper sauntered into the weight room, chuckling.
He set the weight down and laughed at himself. “Thanks. I must’ve zoned out.”
“Man, she’s got you good. You seal the deal yet? Sully said he saw you leave together.”
A tinge of annoyance hit him. What business was it of Klipper’s? He shook his head. “Nah, man, she’s not into me. Besides, she’s not my type. She’s too . . .” He floundered, searching for an explanation that would be believable.
His friend’s eyes narrowed. “She shoot you down again?”
“Nope. Other way around.”
A bark of laughter made him jump. “Dude! Are you kidding? You had a chance to get a piece of that and you sent her on her way?”