Strike a Match (No Match for Love Book 1)

by Lindzee Armstrong

  Suddenly hands were underneath her knees, pulling until her legs dangled off the end of the bench and her head was flat against the cushion. “Do you have the epi-pen?” the voice said urgently. “Kate!”

  Taylor. Relief swept through her, and she pointed limply to the floor.

  “She started coughing, then went pale,” Randy said, his voice high and squeaky. The hands left Kate’s legs, and she was vaguely aware of Taylor crouched underneath the table, rifling through the contents of her purse.

  “She’s allergic to peanuts,” Taylor said. “There must’ve been something in the dish. Found it.”

  Kate felt a sharp jab in her upper thigh, then hands gently rolled her onto her side. Kate gasped, struggling to stay conscious as her brain grew more deprived of oxygen. Was her epi-pen even current? She hadn’t had a reaction in at least a few years, and couldn’t remember the last time she’d filled the prescription. As she continued to struggle for breath, panic coursed through her. What if the pen was expired and wouldn’t work? She knew all too well the dangerous effects of expired medications. How could she have been so stupid?

  “She asked the waitress if there were peanuts, and she assured her there were not,” Randy said, his voice turning hard and angry.

  “Kate?” Taylor’s face was close to hers, and his breath wafted over her like a cool breeze. “Kate, stay with me.” His phone was to his ear. “Yes, I need an ambulance.”

  “What happened?” the frantic voice of the waitress asked. Kate looked up, taking in Rosa’s panicked expression.

  “You idiot,” Randy yelled. “Kate nearly died because you told her there weren’t peanuts in the dish.”

  Kate took in a giant gulp of air, feeling it burn her itchy throat. Sweet oxygen. Black spots continued to dance across her vision.

  “I … I didn’t think there was,” Rosa said, her voice trembling. “My manager confirmed it was nut free. I even made a note for the chef.”

  “And what do you think now?” Randy demanded. “Where is your manager? I want to have a word with him.”

  A cool cloth dabbed her neck, and Kate looked up to see Taylor hovering over her with concerned eyes. He dipped the napkin into her water cup, then ran it along her arms.

  “Are you with me?” he asked.

  Slowly, Kate nodded, the movement taking all her effort. “It’s helping,” she wheezed.

  It could’ve been three minutes or three hours before the front door of the restaurant burst open and two paramedics hustled inside, a gurney between them.

  “Why do we always seem to find you in the middle of a crisis?” one of the paramedics asked Taylor. “What’s happened here?”

  “Anaphylaxis,” Taylor said, rising. “I administered the epi-pen about five minutes ago. It seems to be helping, but not as much as it should.”

  Randy continued to scream at Rosa while Kate floated in and out of awareness. The manager was there now, his face white as Randy called them every name in the book. Kate wanted to curl into a ball underneath the table and hide from the hatred in his voice. Beau had yelled at her like that all too often.

  “Can you tell me your name?” the paramedic asked as he shined a light in her eyes.

  Kate blinked, forcing herself not to turn away. “Kaitlynn Monroe,” she whispered.

  “Good. We’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

  Strong arms settled underneath her, and then Kate was lying on the gurney, being wheeled into the parking lot while Randy continued to yell at the manager and demand the waitress immediately be terminated from her position.

  Kate felt a warm hand on her arm and looked up into Taylor’s soft, worried eyes. “You’ll be okay now,” he said.

  The ambulance doors opened, and Kate felt the gurney being lifted inside.

  “Are you coming with us, Taylor?” the paramedic asked.

  Taylor looked at Kate, his brow furrowed in concern.

  “Don’t leave me,” she whispered.

  He nodded and hopped into the back of the ambulance without another word. The lights flashed and the siren gave a stutter, and then they pulled out of the parking lot, leaving an irate Randy behind. Kate wondered how long it would take him to realize she was gone.

  Taylor clutched Kate’s hand as they raced through the congested streets of L.A. toward the hospital. The EMTs had placed an oxygen mask over her face, but her color was still startlingly pale and her grip limp.

  What if he hadn’t been picking up takeout on his way home from the station? Kate’s date would’ve stood there in a frozen panic while he watched her die.

  The EMTs called out her vitals, but it did little to ease Taylor’s concern. As a firefighter he had basic medical training, and logically he knew Kate would be okay. But there was still a part of him very worried for her safety.

  Kate lifted the oxygen mask from her face. “I’m okay.”

  “We’ll let the doctors tell us that,” Taylor said. Her thin, weak voice did nothing to reassure him.

  At the hospital, Kate was met by a doctor and wheeled inside. Taylor sat in a chair near her bed for two hours while they ran tests and labs. She seemed only half aware of what was happening.

  The curtain pushed back, and a young doctor—probably still a resident—gave them a smile. “You’re good to go, Mrs. Monroe,” he said. “I’ve got your discharge papers right here. Just take it easy for the rest of the weekend. You should be fine to return to work on Monday.” He glanced at Taylor, then back at Kate. “Do you have someone who can drive you home?”

  “I’ll take her,” Taylor said. His truck was still back at the restaurant, but he’d hail a cab. Kate shouldn’t be alone right now.

  The doctor nodded. “I just need you to sign some paperwork, and then you can be on your way.”

  Twenty minutes later, Taylor helped Kate into the back of a cab.

  “You really don’t have to go with me,” she protested. “I appreciate your help, but I’m fine now.”

  Taylor pinned her with a glare. “Please, give me more credit than that. I’d have to be some sort of monster to not make sure you get home okay after today.”

  He expected Kate to smile at the joke, but a frown puckered her forehead. Taylor shut her door, then walked around to the other side of the cab and got in.

  “Where to?” the cabbie asked.

  Taylor looked at Kate. “I know the general area, but I don’t remember the exact address of your home.”

  Shadows flicked across her eyes, and she quickly rattled off the address. The cabbie nodded and pulled into the street.

  “I’m not some damsel you need to save,” Kate said. “I appreciate your help tonight, but I’m okay now. Don’t feel like you have to help me out of some twisted sense of obligation.”

  Taylor’s mouth dropped open. “Is that what you think this is to me—an obligation?”

  She shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “You’re a really nice guy, Taylor. But you’re a firefighter. Rescuing people is in your blood. I’m not interested in being rescued—I’m interested in a real relationship. One that’s based on more than a sense of chivalry.”

  “Oh, and is that what you were discovering tonight, with the date who couldn’t even call 911?”

  Kate’s lips pursed together. “It was our first date. I think Randy was in shock.”

  “He didn’t even notice when we left the restaurant. He was too busy screaming at the waitress who served you the dish.”

  “People handle stressful situations in different ways. I asked a stranger to come with me to the hospital, for example.”

  Taylor never would’ve guessed that quiet, timid Kate could be so stubborn.

  “I think we’ve moved past stranger, and I’m not here purely out of a sense of chivalry,” he said. “Or did you forget that I was the one who requested a second date?”

  Kate’s eyes widened, as though surprised he’d brought it up. “I didn’t forget.”

  They turned down a quiet street and Taylor stopped talking, h
is eyes taking in the familiar road. Older-style homes ended in a cul-de-sac, with Kate’s house at the very end.

  The crackling sound of fire filled Taylor’s ear, and he could hear Corey yelling, “Clear!” as they checked each room. Taylor had been the one to find Beau, unconscious in an armchair, and drag him outside. His heart had pounded frantically in his chest as sweat poured down his back from the blazing heat. His first fire. His first save. And ultimately, his first loss.

  He hadn’t had much time to observe the burning house, but he had noted the dry-rot on the front porch that had gone up instantly, the cheap plywood-style furniture that was reduced to nothing but ash. The layout of the house had screamed 1950s, and the kitchen appliances had suggested the house hadn’t been updated since.

  Now a quaint one-story house sat at the end of the driveway, looking warm and inviting with its gray stucco and stone. The xeriscaped front yard was modern and well-kept, and a colorful wreath of spring flowers hung on the door.

  The cabbie pulled to a stop, and Taylor paid him despite Kate’s protests. Then he took her by the arm and slowly led her up the walk to the front door.

  “We should’ve had the cabbie take us to the restaurant so we could pick up our cars,” Kate said, her voice tinged with exhaustion.

  “I’ll get Corey—the fireman with me at the safety fair—to help bring your car home tomorrow,” Taylor said. “Tonight, you should just rest.”

  Her hands curled around the keys peaking out of her purse. “No, I can drive my own car.”

  “Okay,” he said, not wanting to push her. “I can pick you up at least, then.”

  Kate unlocked the front door, and Taylor had his first glimpse into her new home. The entryway led into a living room, which gave way to the kitchen and dining area. Taylor instantly loved the open feel of the place and the gray laminate flooring throughout. The house that had burned had been so claustrophobic, with low ceilings and narrow hallways and rooms. This felt like a house Kate could breathe in. He was glad she’d been able to rebuild.

  “I love your house,” he said.

  “Thanks.” Kate dropped her purse onto the kitchen table, her face pale.

  “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll get you something to eat.”

  “I’m not hungry, thanks.” Kate did as he suggested and sank into a couch overflowing with throw pillows. “I don’t know if I ever want to eat again after tonight. I thought I was choosing a safe dish.”

  Taylor dropped onto the couch beside her. “You really had me worried.”

  “I bet the food somehow touched a surface that had peanuts on it. Maybe a new chef wasn’t as careful as he should’ve been. I’m just glad it turned out okay in the end.”

  “Me too.” Taylor gently brushed away a lock of her hair, then pulled back, realizing what he’d done.

  “Thank you,” Kate said quietly.

  “I’m not here only because I feel a responsibility toward you. I know our past connection has got to be incredibly difficult to wrap your mind around. And I completely understand and respect that decision. But I asked to go out on another date with you, Kate. Not the widow of someone I couldn’t save.”

  Kate’s breath caught, and tears rimmed her eyes. “I like you too, Taylor. Maybe too much.”

  Hope sprang forth in his heart and he leaned forward, their faces mere inches apart. “Then what’s the problem?”

  She looked down. “You remind me of that night, but not in the way you think.”

  His brow furrowed in confusion. How many ways were there to remember that night? “Okay …”

  “Beau was … not a nice man. Our relationship was rocky. When you told me he was gone, I felt …” She held her hands out, as though she could grasp the words from thin air. “I felt free.”

  “Did he hit you?” Taylor asked, trying to keep his voice soft instead of angry.

  She blinked, and a single tear slid down her cheek. “No, nothing like that. But his words hurt as much as any punch. I feel guilty every day for not missing Beau more.” She dropped her gaze, her voice almost a whisper. “I feel guilty for being so attracted to you.”

  Kate had been abused. Not physically, perhaps, but emotionally. Suddenly everything clicked into place, so much of her previous behavior making perfect sense. Anger roared inside Taylor, as strong as any fire, along with a fierce need to protect Kate. To make all her pain disappear.

  He was glad Beau was gone.

  Taylor reached out, catching a tear on the tip of his fingertip. “I want to take you on another date. Will you let me?”

  Kate closed her eyes, her shoulders rising as she breathed deeply. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “I think it’s the best idea. Please, Kate. Let me take you on a date, something to make up for that first awful one. Let me show you how normal we can be.”

  Her eyes opened, their emerald green depths holding more emotion than he could even attempt to read. She searched his face while Taylor held his breath. She was going to refuse. He couldn’t blame her, really. No doubt she wanted to forget anything and anyone connected to her past.

  After what felt like an eternity, she gave one, quick nod. “Okay.”

  Hope soared in Taylor’s heart, and he grinned. He’d meant to go on the date and forget about Kate forever. But she was anything but forgettable. Her quiet strength was more attractive than he’d ever dreamed it could be.

  He wanted to lean forward and brush his lips against hers so badly he ached, but instead he stood. Now was not the time. If he wanted a chance with Kate—a real chance at something permanent—then he needed to take it slow. “I should let you rest. Can I help you with anything before I leave?”

  “No, I’ll be fine.”

  “Can I get your number at least?”

  She gave a small nod, and it felt like a major victory. Taylor quickly entered her number in. “Call me when you wake up in the morning, and we can go get your car.”

  Kate stood and walked him to the door. Her pace was slow but steady, making him feel a little better about leaving her alone. “How will you get home?”

  “I texted Corey while we were in the cab. He should be here to pick me up any minute. We’ll stop by the restaurant and grab my car.”

  “You don’t have to wait outside.”

  Taylor tenderly took Kate’s face in his hands, staring into her eyes. He leaned forward and let his lips gently brush her cheek. “Yes, I do. Goodnight, Kate. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He drove to the restaurant on clouds, ignoring all of Corey’s ribbing. Once in his condo, Taylor fed Ember, then sat down at his computer to check his email. He deleted three coupons and ignored an email from Brooke with another profile. He wasn’t interested in dating anyone else.

  He scrolled down to the next batch of emails and froze. An email from the San Diego Fire Department. Slowly he opened the email. They wanted to interview him in person next week.

  Taylor sat back in the chair and ran a hand through his hair. Even a week ago, he would’ve taken the interview without a thought. But Kate had somehow changed everything.

  He picked up his phone, going through the last few texts from Amy. Requests for money, drunken texts that made no sense, pleas for help with various things. She needed a bus pass. She’d been fired from her job after only two days—the job he’d dedicated an entire weekend to helping her get. The A/C in her unit was broken, but the landlord wouldn’t repair it until her rent was current.

  He closed his eyes, holding the phone to his chest. He’d done everything he could to help her, but she continued to spiral. Did that mean his parents were right and he needed to back off?

  No. If he lived in San Diego, he could convince Amy to stop drinking. If she moved in with him, he’d be able to keep an eye on her. Make sure she stayed sober and didn’t fall back into her old habits.

  He’d known Kate a week. He’d known Amy his entire life. She was more than his sister—she was his twin. And he wouldn’t abandon her for a g
irl he’d been out with only once.

  An interview didn’t mean they’d offer him the job. But he had to give it his best shot.

  He clicked reply.

  When Kate woke up the next morning, it was to a painfully scratchy throat and itchy skin. But at least she could breathe again. Last night had been … scary. Humiliating. Embarrassing.

  Comforting.

  What would she have done if Taylor hadn’t been there to administer the epi-pen and call an ambulance? Randy had totally frozen when faced with conflict, which didn’t bother Kate near as much as how he’d treated the waitress, who’d done nothing wrong. Randy’s behavior, as Kate was being carted out to the ambulance on a gurney, had reminded her too much of Beau. And she didn’t want any part of a relationship that reminded her—even a little—of her late husband.

  Taking a shower exhausted her, so Kate contented herself with pulling her hair up in a simple bun and swiping on a dab of lip gloss. She’d only recently started wearing makeup again, or even doing much with her hair for that matter. But somehow, the possibility of seeing Taylor today had her wishing she had the energy to make herself look a little more put together. But maybe it was better this way. She didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard and give him the wrong idea. Although she had agreed to go out with him again, so the point was probably moot.

  By ten o’clock, Kate was wondering if she’d misunderstood Taylor. They hadn’t exactly agreed on a time for him to come and get her. She supposed she could call, but that felt too forward. She was just about to call Liza, or maybe a cab company so she wouldn’t have to answer awkward questions, when her phone buzzed with a text.

  Taylor: I hope I’m not waking you up.

  Kate: No, I’ve been up for a while.

  Taylor: How are you feeling?

  Kate smiled, clutching the phone tight. Fine, she quickly texted back. Tired, but no lasting effects. I’ll be all better by Monday.

  Taylor: Is it okay if I come pick you up in about fifteen minutes, then? We can go get your car.

  Kate texted back a quick reply, then put on a little eyeshadow and mascara.