Burning for You

by Dunaway, Michele

  Taylor turned. Joe stood there, towering over her in the T-shirt that fit like skin. He gestured at the camera, the small Maltese cross tattoo on the inside of his wrist clearly visible. She’d kept the tattoo out of view during the shoot. Virginia’s orders—and what Virginia wanted, Virginia got.

  “There are hundreds of images …”

  “I don’t want to see all of them. Just the last few will be fine.”

  “No one else saw theirs …”

  That sexy irresistible grin slid into place, and Mr. September turned into Mr. State the Obvious. “I’m not like everyone else.”

  No, he certainly wasn’t. No one else made her heart skip or her face flame. Now in the clothes he’d wear around the firehouse while waiting for a call, Joe shouldn’t be so intimidating. Shouldn’t be so alluring. Shouldn’t be calling to something deep inside, something primitive she’d buried two years ago, something too dangerous to allow out.

  “Besides, you owe me. You had your hands in my hair and on my chest. Surely that gives me some leeway, a little extra.”

  Ooh boy. “Fine.”

  The devilish grin widened. “See how easy that was?”

  As Marci went to roll up the backdrop and put away the light kit, Taylor turned on the camera’s preview mode and scrolled through the last few images. Joe leaned over her left shoulder and watched as she did. “That’s good work.”

  She paused, surprised. “Thanks. You’re not going to make a comment about how I had a good subject to work with?”

  “That goes without saying.” His now trademark smile came and vanished. He shrugged. “Seriously, though, I can tell you’ve got talent. I hate being photographed. I never look good in them.”

  Add lying to his list of talents. She scoffed. “Then why did you do this?”

  He frowned. “Because I had no choice.”

  Ha. Hardly. Somehow she couldn’t quite believe him. “Everyone has a choice.”

  He opened his mouth, checked whatever he’d been about to say, and instead returned to the wide sexy grin found in all the photos. “Perhaps I just wanted to meet you. Get to know you.”

  “Oh please. You’re being a cad. Be serious.” Taylor threw a hand over her mouth, realizing she’d sounded like the heroine in the book she’d clearly needed to put down last night. How embarrassing.

  Hands went on hips. Eyebrows arched. “A cad? Where does that word come from anyway?”

  From a romance novel. Face flaming, she turned the camera off, watched the screen go dark. The backup battery had done its job. She made a show of putting her Canon into the camera bag, but Joe didn’t take the hint. “I’m sure you have other places to be.”

  “You called me a cad. That’s a low blow. I have to defend my honor.”

  “Are you serious? I was joking. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

  He shook his head, that lovely hair caressing his jawbone. Her fingers longed to touch the thick strands again, run her fingers through them, and draw them away from his face. Clearly, the book’s steamy love scene was wiggled into her subconscious.

  “Humor me. You had your hands on my chest—and good hands, by the way.”

  “Part of my job.”

  “Why’d you become a photographer?”

  “Why’d you become a firefighter?” she returned.

  “Not for the reason you think, and do you always answer a question with a question?”

  Her chin jutted forward. She was intrigued but tired. “Why? Does it annoy you?”

  Deep laughter erupted, and shoving his hands into his back pockets, he disregarded the bad habit that sent most men she met running for the hills. “I like challenges; I don’t scare easily.”

  Not expecting that answer, her next inhale went down wrong, and she coughed.

  His forehead creased. “You okay? Need me to bang on your back?”

  The thought of him touching her made all her nerve endings go haywire again. “I’m good. No need.” She made a show of touching the base of her collarbone. At least the hiccups had stopped. “Hate when that happens.”

  The easy grin returned. “You seem to have some breathing issues today. I’m a certified paramedic. I’m trained in mouth-to-mouth. Let me know if you require that.”

  The thought of his lips touching hers caused her next breath to whoosh out. No man had ever made her react so viscerally. She would take charge. Put him in his place. “I’m fine. I really need to pack up. So if we’re finished …”

  “Actually, I have another question for you.”

  The directness of his answer made her stare, curious. “Oh? What is it?” Was he about to ask her out?

  “I like the work you do, and today I saw how patient and kind you are with your subjects. I’m looking for a photographer to help me with a pet project. Interested?”

  Damn. For a millisecond disappointment filled her and she wiped the back of her right hand on her forehead, the lack of decent air conditioning starting to get to her, or maybe it was simply his dynamic proximity. Of course he didn’t want her—just her skills. But, she’d hoped. Anticipated. Get it together, she chided herself. He hadn’t even really been flirting—just more annoying, right?—and she certainly couldn’t turn down business. “I’m willing to listen.”

  “Perfect. Card?”

  His entire demeanor turned serious, and she remained frozen, the change so abrupt she was certain her head would be spinning if not attached. “Yes. Hold on.” She dug into the front of her camera bag, took out a tiny piece of heather gray cardstock.

  He plucked the business card from her fingertips, studied the words, and tucked it into a front pocket, the movement creating a crease in the pants near his. … She jerked her gaze away. “Great. I’ll call you in a day or two. That work?”

  “Uh. Um. Yes.” She forced herself to be professional.

  “Good. Can’t wait to talk then.” He thrust his hand forward, and unprepared for the gesture, she shook it awkwardly. Like when he’d covered her hands earlier, a sizzle fused her fingers to his, forcing her to pull away quickly. All day he’d had her off her game. She was drawn to him but wasn’t sure she liked him. After the huge ordeal of her breakup with Owen, she avoided anything or anyone that made her feel out of control, which was how she felt since his first wink. But she needed work. “Talk to you soon.”

  With that, Joe picked up his gear and strode to the exit. Taylor stared, stupefied, unable to rip away her attention as she tracked his progress. She was no match for this man, this gorgeous chameleon who could charm his way into getting whatever he wanted. As for exactly what he wanted, he’d led her one way and then switched directions so fast she hadn’t been able to keep up. Did he really need a photographer? But why would he pretend otherwise?

  “He is so hot,” Marci said, approaching with the gear. Her enthusiasm bubbled. “He took your card. Did he ask you out? God, I wish he’d have asked me. Are you going to go? You should. Especially since he’s single and you haven’t had a real date in ages. Not since Owen. It wasn’t your fault he was such a jerk and …”

  As Marci rambled on, Taylor pressed her water bottle to her forehead. She was getting a massive headache. Time to get some real food and into some actual air conditioning—stat. As for Joe Marino, she dismissed him from her mind, although it took more effort than she’d expected. No matter how much her body liked him, she was a girl who’d learned the hard way to follow her head and not her heart. And her head said to stay far away from Joe. Even if he did make her mushy. And hot.

  * * *

  “Look! Mr. Sexy’s back!”

  “September,” Joe returned, ignoring the teasing whistles as he strode through the open bay doors into the firehouse, gear in hand. “Get it right.”

  “Get what right? That you’re not sexy?” Reid shot back. “We already wondered what they saw in you.”

  “Good one,” Chris, another member of Joe’s squad, called out from where he was performing inventory. “You might want to quit while you’re
ahead, lieutenant.”

  “Ha-ha,” Joe replied. He balanced the gear on one arm, grabbed the clipboard from Reid with the other, looked the contents over, and initialed on the line where required. Reid retrieved the board. “I can see you all at least got some work done while I was gone.”

  “What did you think, we’d just sit around playing video games?” Kyle, the third squad member said. “Well, maybe Parker did. Why’d you sub him again?”

  Joe countered with the obvious. “Because a truck can’t go out unless it has four guys?”

  “What about me? Did I hear someone say my name?” Parker asked, ambling over. A full-time lieutenant from Station 26, Joe’s brother-in-law had covered the portion of Joe’s shift so he could do the shoot. Amazingly, the department had even sprung for the overtime. Somewhere up the chain of command, someone had decided that sexy firefighters made for good PR.

  “They were just saying how much they like working with you,” Joe fibbed. “Any calls?”

  “A car accident,” Parker said. “Guy hit a light pole. Pretty quiet today.”

  “Don’t say that!” Kyle winced and slapped a hand over his temple. “You jinxed us!”

  “Yeah, now we’ll get called out nonstop for the rest of our shift,” Chris groaned. “Thanks a lot Parker.”

  Parker grinned. “Doing my part to help. Pretty boring over here. I like it when there’s some action.”

  “Yeah, well, we don’t mind boring,” Chris said. “Lots to do. In fact, we need to clean—”

  The second Chris said the word “clean,” Parker started moving. “Nope, my subbing’s done. Done my good deed for the day.”

  Joe rolled his eyes. “Yeah, for the overtime.”

  “Well, there is that. I’m supporting your sister and niece, you know. But, you’ve got a good crew or I’d never agree to set foot over here. See you guys later. See you Sunday, Joe.”

  “What’s Sunday? Why aren’t we invited?” Reid called.

  The gear weighed heavy in Joe’s arms. “What, you all want to come to my nephew Ben’s birthday party? It starts at noon. Picnic area near the Living World. I’m sure he’ll appreciate all the extra presents.”

  “Will there be a bounce house?” Chris asked. “I might be there if there’s a bounce house.”

  “Although be sure to secure it so it doesn’t fly away,” Kyle warned. “Remember that video? Don’t want to take that call.”

  “No bounce house,” Joe said. “We’re in Forest Park so we can barbeque and visit the zoo.”

  “Aww, that’s sweet,” Chris teased.

  Reid grinned. “I like the zoo. And your mom’s a good cook. Is your sister Elaina going to be there?”

  “You stay away from Elaina.” Joe scowled because his sister dating Reid was the last thing he needed. The youngest on Joe’s squad, Reid had gone to high school with Elaina, graduating two years ahead of her and her twin brother Peter. There’d been enough drama when Susie had started dating Parker. Then again, look how well that had turned out. They were perfect together, giving Joe hope that someday he might find that special someone who could see past his own flaws. At least his siblings had provided his parents with the requisite grandchildren, so that pressure was off.

  “All I want from Elaina is more brownies,” Reid replied innocently, but Joe didn’t believe him. “Remember the last batch she brought? The iced ones? Those were delicious.”

  “Yeah, she makes good desserts,” Chris threw out. “My wife hates baking. When’s your sister dropping by again?”

  “Enough!” Joe called a halt. He loved his crew as much as his family, but they had work to do. Stationed in a firehouse built in the 1960s, there was always something needing repair. He’d start whacking down his to-do list after grabbing a sandwich. The shoot had lasted the entire morning, and then two hours into the afternoon. Photographed last, he’d missed lunch. He figured there’d be food—but clearly the organizer had forgotten that. At least the photographer had sent her assistant out for bottled water.

  He had to admit, twelve guys and one bossy organizer plus her entourage were overwhelming. But the photographer had handled the shock with aplomb. She’d also had hazel eyes—the kind you could drown in. He was a sucker for eyes—he always noticed those first. Hers had been magnetic, pulling his gaze time and time again to her perky round face, where he’d seen full, kissable lips. She had a body that simply called out to a man …

  As part of him stirred to life, he checked those dangerous thoughts, settling for a safe Well, she’d been quite easy to look at, which had made the shoot far more bearable than he’d expected. She’d also been good at her job. He’d meant it when he’d said she’d captured him pretty well.

  Today was a win-win. He’d found who he’d been looking for, for while he liked to tinker with his SLR camera, he was a never going to be anything but an amateur. He needed her help, for he’d tried to take the portraits himself for the project he’d mentioned to her. However, he’d quickly discovered his eye wasn’t as good as he’d hoped. His technical ability was even worse. He couldn’t capture his subjects correctly, and they deserved the best. He needed professional help.

  He’d found her interesting; his body had shot to attention after her long, firm fingers had pushed his coat aside—well that didn’t mean anything. Basic biology. Besides, he didn’t have time for a relationship and he never did casual. Ever. Women couldn’t handle him or his baggage, and baggage was something he had in spades.

  While he needed Taylor, it was for her photography skills, nothing more. No matter how much he liked her lips and wondered how they’d taste. No matter how even some light flirtation had brought to the surface that dormant feeling that he was somehow missing out.

  He began stowing his gear, pausing when the loud two-tone buzzer created a familiar burst of adrenaline. The speaker voice called out for Squad 3 and Truck 5 for a three-alarm fire. His crew scrambled into motion, tugging on gear over their clothes before climbing into their assigned places. As the senior squad officer, he sat shotgun, securing himself as Reid threw the vehicle into drive. The location came up on the GPS screen.

  “So much for boring,” Chris said over the headphones.

  “I’m going to kill Parker the next time I see him,” Kyle said. “He jinxed us.”

  They fell silent, mentally readying themselves for the firefight. A three-alarm blaze meant multiple engine and ladder companies would be at the scene, and as today was excessively hot, crews would be able to work only so long before the battalion chief ordered them to take a mandatory cooling break.

  As they raced through the streets of South St. Louis to the warehouse fire, an image of Taylor flashed through Joe’s mind before he pushed it away. His day had never been boring, not with her in the picture. He’d talk to her soon enough, for once he set his mind on something, he didn’t stop until he got his way. He’d set Taylor in his sights, and getting her to say yes to his proposal shouldn’t be too hard. He’d use the full Marino charm. She wouldn’t be able to resist.

  Chapter Two

  Presley’s on the Landing was the kind of bar that changed personalities depending on the time of day. From the moment the doors opened at eleven a.m., Presley’s served up an assortment of pretty good burgers and wedge-cut fries in an industrial, warehouse décor with dark wood tables and exposed brick walls. With waitresses wearing shorts, respectable T-shirts, and bright, Kelly green aprons, the restaurant was somewhere patrons could bring kids or hold an important business lunch.

  Around nine p.m., however, Presley’s performed an about-face. A beefy bouncer sat on a stool at the front door checking IDs. Inside, live music pounded at deafening levels, belted out by local rock bands all trying to get signed. After nine, revelers could still find food, but waitresses in tighter, lower-cut T-shirts and shorter shorts concentrated on delivering copious amounts of alcohol to twenty-somethings desiring to let loose, drink, dance, and hook up.

  Taylor had worked three p.m. to three a.m. on
Friday, and as she arrived at work at a quarter past three Saturday—late—she forced herself to shake off the cobwebs. Last night had been rough. Even though the bar kicked the last drinkers out at three, she’d cleaned until well past four. Too keyed up to sleep, she’d crawled into bed and read Burning for the Rogue Pirate until five, when the first hints of sunrise tested her room-darkening blinds.

  She’d planned on catching five hours of solid shut-eye before getting some photo work done, so she’d set her alarm for ten. All week, she’d been processing images in between making cold calls to drum up some business and serving burgers, and she still had a lot of work left to do. But instead of waking, she’d accidently turned off the alarm instead of hitting snooze, allowing her to sleep until almost two-thirty. When she’d woken up and realized the time, she’d taken the world’s fastest shower, got dressed, and left.

  Luckily Presley’s was relatively quiet—the weekend lunch crowd having departed and the early dinner crowd not yet arrived—so she hadn’t been missed. She clocked in, greeted one of the other servers with whom she was friendly. “Hey, Beth, how are you?”

  “Did you forget?” Beth frowned at Taylor like she had grown horns, and Taylor shivered.

  She’d been scatterbrained lately, but aside from her Presley’s shift, today’s calendar had been clear. “Forget what? I know I’m late. Is John mad? We weren’t supposed to wear a specific shirt, were we?”

  “No nothing like that, so no worries. He’s not here anyway. He ran out for a minute. I just can’t believe you forgot.”

  A little wrinkle formed between Taylor’s eyebrows. “My life’s been a bit crazy trying to get all this work done.”

  “No excuses. Today’s the day for the Station 31 charity. You should see these guys!”

  The wrinkle deepened. “What are you talking about?”

  “The firefighters. They’re working as servers. Donating their tips to charity. The lunch shift left about a half hour ago and ooh la la.”