by Kacey Shea
Something touches my foot with a nudge. I look up at Chase and bat my eyes. “Footsie? What, are we sixteen?” At his puzzled expression and the plop of weight at my toes I glance down at my feet. And scream. Fucking loud. Like a girl.
“Toad! Get it off! Get it off!” I’m paralyzed but my mouth works just fine.
“Where?” Chase jumps to his feet and grabs the lantern.
“Feet! Feet! Fuck! Get it off!” Chase stoops at my legs and with the lantern I can see the little devil spawn eying me from where he’s taken up home on my manicured toes.
“Awe, he’s not so bad,” Chase coos as he scoops the toad from my feet. “I think you scared him more than he scared you.”
“Fuck! I doubt it.” As soon as it’s off I stand and shake out the heebie jeebies that have rooted beneath my skin. So much for playing it cool. Or being relaxed. There’s no way in hell I’ll be able to sit out here any longer. Chase walks the toad several yards away and releases him into the wild before marching back.
“So . . .” He glances around at our half eaten food containers. “I vote we move this party elsewhere.”
“I second that!” I all but shout.
“I thought you would. Let’s pack this up. I have an idea. We can still enjoy the outdoors without the wildlife.”
Amazing. Completely and absolutely. Best first date ever.
Lying on top of the fire station roof, I’m snuggled up next to Chase. We gaze up at the stars. The sounds of the neighborhood feel miles away.
“This was a good idea.” I turn to study Chase’s profile. He gazes at the night sky and my fingers itch to run along his strong jaw where the hint of stubble shows. We’re barely touching; his hand covers mine as we recline side by side. I could stay like this always.
“Yeah, it really was.” He glances to the side and meets my stare. Our mouths are inches from each other, but I don’t want them to be. “Kiss me, Callie,” he demands in a low growl. I close the distance and seal my lips over his.
Our mouths move together. A dance. An exploration. A coming together of two people for the first time. Learning. Wanting. But not a fumble. He’s a great kisser. With those lips I already pegged him for it so I’m not surprised. I roll to my side and he mirrors the movement. My fingers are finally given the permission to run along his neck, strong jaw, and brush into his hair.
His hand trails along my side, grazing the side of my breast and I’m sort of impressed at his control. The way his tongue meets mine, well, a weaker man would go straight for the boob squeeze. He’s a complete gentleman and we kiss for what feels like an eternity. Probably more like thirty minutes. But still. I can’t remember the last time I just kissed a man to kiss. It’s bliss.
I roll to my back and Chase holds his body over mine. His erection juts into my hip but he doesn’t try to dry hump my body. Such a gentleman. A gentleman with an impressive boner. I almost giggle at the thought before his lips move from my mouth and glide down the side of my neck to where it meets my shoulder. He sucks and nibbles and I groan out loud. That’s my sweet spot. Fuck. Both of my hands go straight to his hair and hold him there.
“I want you so bad, Callie,” he rasps into my earlobe. “Please say you wanna fuck me.” My vagina says yes but my head says slow the fuck down. He moans my name again, this time grinding his hardness into where my legs wrap around him. What the— Seriously, does my body have to be such a little minx?
“Oh, I want to,” I pant out, and then pull his head away from the nips he scatters across my neck. “But not tonight.” I hold his gaze. His eyes are unfocused and it takes a moment, I think, for his brain to process my words.
“Oh. Okay. Yeah. Sure.” He rolls off me and stares up at the sky. His breaths come heavy and quick. I sneak a look at his aroused state and confirm that he’s every inch as impressive as I felt him to be.
“Chase, I’m having a great time with you, but I’m not gonna sleep with you.”
“No?” He tilts his face to meet my gaze. I roll to my side and tuck my arm under my cheek as I hold his stare.
“No way. There’s so much I don’t know.”
“What’s to know?” His expression is open.
“I hardly know anything about you.”
“What do you want me to tell you?”
I scrunch my nose and twist my lips into a wry grin. “Everything.”
His laughter fills the air. “That could take a while.” He rolls to his side and reaches a hand out to rest at my side. Silly, but the gesture relieves my nerves. I turned him down, yes, but not because I don’t find him incredibly attractive. It’s good to know that’s not a deal breaker for him. Not that I would sleep with him because of that. It just confirms he really is the good guy I find him to be.
“Exactly.” I laugh. “Besides, I’m not going to fuck you on the roof of the station where you work! Someone could totally come up here and see us.”
“You aren’t an exhibitionist?”
“Not really,” I answer in honesty.
“Oh, shit.” He drops his hand from my waist and rises. His scowl looms over me. “I gotta go.”
“What?” I scramble to sit up.
“I only get off if we do it in public.” He turns, takes two steps and then spins back and tackles me back to the ground. His movements are graceful and fluid and his soft chuckle washes over me, sending pleasure straight to my core. He rolls so I’m straddling him from on top and I have to resist the urge to squeeze my legs together. The way our bodies fit, it’s so sexual, and the way his eyes hood with desire encourages me to be every bit the sex kitten I want to be.
“Why won’t you really sleep with me tonight?” His voice is rough and heavy but his expression is sincere. His hands frame my face and he pulls me close for a scorching kiss. God, he’s good at that.
“I don’t want you to think I’m easy,” I murmur. “’Cause I’m not.” Mere inches separate us but I study his expression. My breath tangles with his, and his eyes are a burnt, melty chocolate. I could gaze into their depths all night.
“I won’t think any less of you if we sleep together, Callie. And for the record I’m okay with your decision. Either way.”
Relief fills me at his words and I lean back off his chest and rest my weight on my heels so I straddle his waist. “Besides, I’m gonna make you work for it,” I say with a cheeky grin and give his chest a playful slap, my poor attempt to lighten the intensity of the moment. I move to crawl off his lap but Chase’s hands clamp down on my thighs and hold me to him.
“I am not afraid of hard work, Callie.” His voice is hard and stern and damn if the feeling of his fingers digging into the flesh of my legs doesn’t go straight to my clit. “I want you. I’ll work for it. You believe me, don’t you?”
At his question I nod, my fingers trail up his chest and I rub at the scruff of his cheeks. And I do believe him, but I need him to understand. “I don’t sleep around. That’s not who I am. I’m looking for more than one night of fun.” I lean down to brush my lips against his.
He pushes me back so there’s space between us. “I’m having a great time with you, and I want to see you again. But this thing together—it’s intense between us. You feel it too, right? Tell me I’m not alone in this.” His fingers trace the skin of my thighs to where the hem of my dress has inched up to an indecent length. I can feel his hardness beneath me.
“Not alone,” I whisper.
“Okay. Let’s go back to looking at the stars then.” He rolls me to my back and lays beside me.
“Oh.” His abrupt change of position seems a dismissal. I turn my head to study his profile again. His chest rises with each breath as he observes the starry sky. When he speaks his gaze remains trained above.
“Because if we’re not going to sleep together we might as well enjoy the night. We can look at the sky and I’ll imagine that one night soon we’ll be counting stars together after making love.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet.”
A grin sp
reads across his face. “Yeah, that and I can’t walk through the station with the hard on you just gave me. Those assholes inside will never let me hear the end of it.”
“And that’s not sweet at all.” I laugh.
“No, but it’s the truth.” He chuckles but sobers before turning his chin to the side so our eyes meet. “When we finally sleep together it will be amazing. Because what we have together is powerful. I can feel it. And I think you feel it, too. Now, lay your head on my chest because it makes me feel like a man, and then I’ll take you home.”
I lay my head on his chest and snuggle into his side. His words have me a puddle of goo and I count the beats of his speeding heart to settle my thoughts. My mind wants to race with the possibility that I’ve met the one. My person. Could he be Chase?
I love first dates.
Because once you get that shit over with you just know whether that person will be someone you like spending time with. And I like spending time with Chase.
“Is it too soon to ask him to father my babies?” I speak into the phone, cradling the device between my ear and shoulder as I chop all the veggies I bought yesterday and assemble my healthy crockpot meal.
“Calm your uterus,” Jill chides. “There’s bound to be something wrong with him. Just give it time.”
“Thanks for crushing my dreams. Remind me, why did I call you again? Alicia would tell me to jump his bones.”
“Because I keep you from acting on impulses that will hurt you later . . . Or she didn’t pick up when you called her first.” I laugh because she’s right on both counts. “So it sounds like it was a first date for the books. When are you going to see him again?”
“That’s the thing. He didn’t ask. And he still doesn’t have my number and I don’t have his. Of course, he knows where I live but I only know where he works. God, I don’t even know his last name! What if after all of that I never hear from him again and we run into each other four weeks from now and it’s awkward as hell. What if he lied about having fun? What if he thought the date sucked?”
“Callie!”
“What?”
“Stop. Stop worrying and obsessing. You guys had a good time. Got to know each other and weren’t plastered to your phones all night. That’s a good thing. Maybe he was having such a great time he didn’t think to ask. And besides, I’m sure he doesn’t know your last name, either.” True.
“So what do I do? Take a walk by the firehouse every day until we accidentally bump into each other?”
“God, no! Don’t do that.” Yep. Chop, chop, chop. So doing that. Slice, slice, slice. In fact, as soon as I finish this meal prep I’ll be lacing up my running shoes.
“Callie, are you even listening to me?”
“Yeah. Sorry, I’m here. Just distracted by my master chef skills. What was that last thing you said?”
“Do not overanalyze and obsess about your date.”
“Mmm hmm.” Maybe I should have made more jokes. I’m not witty. Guys like witty.
“You’re already doing it, aren’t you?” I can practically hear the eye roll through the phone line.
“Maybe just a teeny tiny bit,” I admit and dump the chopped peppers, tomatoes, carrots, celery, and onions into the ceramic cooking dish with a satisfied plop. “Hey, I know I’m doing it so it’s fine. They say the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem and I do. I’m not denying it.”
“Whatever, Callie. Just don’t fuck things up before they start. You overanalyze until you don’t even see the good you bring to the potential relationship. Do not put him on a gender reverse pedestal.”
“What would that even be? A ladder? A step stool?”
“Step stool would be kinda short, don’t you think? Besides, men never admit to needing one of those. I’d go with a five-gallon paint bucket. It’s more masculine.”
“Jill, I never knew you to be such a sexist.”
“I know. Shhh! Don’t tell anyone.”
“It’ll be our little secret.”
“But you hear me, right? Try and relax. Enjoy being pursued. You’re a kickass lady. He had fun. If he didn’t then he’s an asshole you don’t need, but believe me, he’ll find you.”
“You think?”
“I know.”
“Thanks, Jill. I knew I called you for a reason.”
“You really didn’t try Alicia first?”
“Err . . .”
Jill laughs. “I thought so. Love you, Callie.”
“Bye, Jill. Love you, too.”
I set down my phone and finish adding the spices, ground turkey, and water, and set the cooker to eight hours. I wash the cutting board and knife, but because I tidied along the way there isn’t much to clean. With dinner and lunch for the entire week prepped, my mind wanders to a certain studly fireman and his sweet ride. Fuck. I need to get out of the house or I’m going to case the firehouse like the stalker chick I refuse to be.
Target therapy time.
I quickly dress—a nice blouse and jean shorts—and twist my hair back into a bun. I paint my lips a nude hue and brush on some bronzer in the totally rare and highly unlikely event I come face to face with Chase. Really, can I be too careful about this sort of thing? I think not.
Feet in my most worn pair of five dollar sandals and purse in hand, I pad outside and into the sweltering day. With the windows down, the ride in my Jeep is therapeutic in itself. The red logo of my favorite store calls me like a beacon.
I can spend hours—literally—wandering the aisles of this joint. I take my usual route, starting with a chocolatey latte purchase and then peruse the music selection. Bieber has a new album? When did that happen? I resist the impromptu guilty pleasure purchase and place the disc back on the shelf.
Books. This looks promising. I grip the flame covered paperback and flip through the pages. Oh, too dark and depressing. I set it back on the shelf and look for something lighter. I settle on a classic beach read and before I realize it my drink is empty and I’m past chapter five. Shit. Will need to get this one from the library. I set it back and make my way past electronics, toys, and over to the seasonal section.
I wander to Outdoor. Spending summers with my aunt and uncle as a kid, I helped my aunt sometimes with her gardening. She could spend hours pruning and planting and potting and whatever the hell else is required to create a gorgeous yard. The smell of the upturned earth and then patting the soil over seeds is my favorite part. Sadness washes over me and replaces the good memory. God, I miss her. Gone too soon. Cancer, the dick that steals too many lives before their time.
Maybe next summer I can plant a garden in my yard. I’d like that.
I toss my cup into a trash can and head over to the accessories. I always save the best for last. I try on bangle after bangle and almost decide on a purchase before a loud shout and crash pulls my attention.
“Someone call nine-one-one!” a woman shouts. Shit. I hurry through the rows of wallets and messenger bags to find the commotion near the checkout line. An elderly man slouches against the checkout display. He grips his opposite arm, eyes glazed over, while a woman next to him shouts for help. I pull my cell out to make the call but when I glance around I realize at least five other people have already done so.
The woman seems so distraught that I can’t help but go to her. I touch her arm and she spins to face me.
“Help is on the way,” I say, which seems to calm her enough to stop shouting. She leans into my body and I wrap an arm around her.
“Barry. Barry, look at me,” she says again.
“Ma’am, first responders are two minutes out.” A man who I assume is the store manager says. “Do you know what happened?”
“He was right beside me. We got in the checkout line and then he just fell.” She shakes her head. I glace down at the man. He doesn’t seem to have sustained any injuries but he is old and maybe he hurt something we can’t see. He’s not responsive but he’s conscious, so that has to be good.
“Has he e
ver fainted before? Or fallen?”
“No. No. Nothing like that. Barry. Barry, why won’t you speak to me?”
The crowd thins as the medics arrive. Oh, hell! Just my luck. God, I’m glad I did my makeup. I’m a selfish, horrible person because that’s my first thought as Chase and three other firemen stride over to Barry. Chase glances at me and his eyes widen with recognition.
“He just fell. We don’t know what else,” the manager tells Chase.
“Barry. Barry, these nice men are here to help you.” I think Barry could be in Disneyland right now and not know it. His gaze is still glassy.
“Is Barry your husband?” Chase looks up from Barry to the woman still holding my hand as the other firefighters check his vitals.
“No. He’s my lover.” Well, then. Go Barry.
“Do you know if he has a history of falls, any pre-existing medical condition?”
“I’m not sure. We only started dating last month. He has pills at the house but I don’t know what for. Blood pressure maybe?”
Paramedics roll in an empty stretcher at that moment and take control of Barry’s care. The woman leaves with them. I feel kind of lame now just standing in the middle of the Target checkout line with nothing in my hands as Chase talks to the manager and jots down notes on a clipboard. Probably some report. I should go. Not stand here like an idiot, but I sort of hoped Chase would talk to me. Ugh. Stupid.
I turn on my heel and walk around the checkout lines to the closest exit. It’s then I realize I parked on the opposite side of the lot, next to the other set of doors. In the spaces near the painted red curbing. The ones behind the fire truck. Super.
Shades on to hide my humiliation, I trek through the midday heat. The tar from the blacktop shimmers like a mirage and beads of sweat gather on my forehead while others pool down my neck and between my breasts.
“Callie! Wait up!” Chase’s voice halts my steps and he approaches. His eyes narrow and lips purse in a tight line. Unfriendly. Hard. Shit! Maybe our date didn’t go as well as I thought.
“Are you okay?” He stops a few feet before me. Am I okay? Is this his way of letting me down? Telling me he had a horrible time? Of not asking me out again? Damn it. I should have put out.