Braving the Heat

by Regan Black

  Stephen parked the car and climbed out, to punch a number into the security panel at the gate. She was reminded of the security measures at his garage when the fence rolled back. Once they were through, he waited until the fence closed behind him.

  “Did you buy this track?” She couldn’t believe her good luck. “Are you going to open it up again?” All the wonderful memories with her dad came rushing back. This evening just kept getting better and better.

  “No. I couldn’t quite justify that, but I know some of the right people.”

  “I can’t believe I’m about to drive this beauty on this track.”

  “Me first,” Stephen said.

  “Right, right. Of course.” As he worked through the lower gears, she sat back, getting a feel for the track, impatiently waiting for him to open it up.

  Then he did and she laughed again as the engine responded, the vibrations coming up through her feet on the floorboards, surrounding her in a delicious sensation. He leaned into the corners, weaved back and forth on the straightaways, testing the Camaro’s responses. Then he opened it all the way for a few exhilarating laps.

  As he slowed down, she nearly begged him for one more lap before she remembered it was her turn to drive. Her palms went damp when he stopped at the start/finish line, and she swiped them across her shorts. Releasing her seat belt, she scrambled out of the car.

  The moment the car stopped she raced around the hood, reaching the driver’s door before he was all the way clear. She skidded to a stop before colliding with him and instantly regretted it, imagining what those strong hands would feel like on her.

  “Eager?”

  “You have no idea,” she admitted. Stephen had her fired up more than the car. She didn’t bother trying to contain her excitement. At one time she and her dad had dreamed of her doing the driving, racing her way up through the ranks from tracks like this one to bigger venues.

  “Promise me one thing.” He stopped her with a light touch at her elbow.

  Her skin warmed all over under his touch and the intensity in his hazel eyes sent an extra spark through her system. One question answered. “I’ll be careful.” He had to know she would never do anything stupid with someone else’s car. Or with him.

  “That’s not it.”

  “Then what?” Impatient, she rocked up on her toes and back again.

  “Give me time to buckle in before you hit the gas?”

  She laughed, the only outlet for so much excitement. “I promise.” His hand slipped away. “You’d better be quick about it.”

  Kenzie adjusted the seat and took a few calming breaths before she placed her hands on the wheel. When they were both ready, she familiarized herself with the clutch, shifting and accelerating and then slowing and downshifting, as Stephen had done when they started out.

  “This is smooth as glass everywhere but second to third.”

  “Just drive,” he muttered.

  She spared him a long glance as she came up on the start/finish line again. “You ready?”

  “Eyes on the road,” he said.

  “Yeah, the traffic is awful out here.” She goosed the gas, watching his face.

  “Kenzie.”

  “No worries,” she assured him. “I’ve got it under control.” Thanks to her dad, driving was as natural to her as walking or breathing.

  Stephen made a noise loaded with skepticism.

  She accelerated on the next lap, familiar now with the track surface, the car’s responses. “This track is in great condition,” she said.

  “Better to maintain it than let it rot and then have to rebuild if they decide to open it again,” he replied.

  “True.” She pushed the speedometer past eighty. “Reopening here would be amazing.”

  She knew better than to push a new engine too hard too soon, and she behaved herself, though the motor would have given her more. At just over ninety miles per hour, the rush was incredible. The Camaro hugged the turns and prowled over the front and back straightaways. It was almost as much fun as watching her dad win races when she’d been a kid.

  “You’ve got skills,” Stephen said. His voice was full of clear admiration and far more relaxed than it had been on the short drive to dinner.

  “Thanks.” She shifted through another turn. “If only I’d been a boy I might’ve done more racing.”

  “Girls can drive,” Stephen pointed out.

  She grinned when she wanted to melt into a wistful puddle. For a quiet guy, he had a knack for knowing just what to say. “Fifteen years ago, without Dad in my corner, it was an uphill battle I wasn’t ready for. There were too many other details to handle.”

  She took the next lap slower, and when she finally rolled to a stop, the melancholy of missing her father had her heart in a crushing grip.

  “Need a minute?” He rested his hand on the back of the seat and his thumb brushed lightly across her shoulder. “Or another lap?” he teased.

  Shaking off the unexpected sadness, she climbed out of the car before she begged him to hold her and gulped in the evening air mingling with the heat of the car.

  “Thanks, Stephen,” she said brightly, when she trusted her voice again. “That was a blast.” It was good to make new memories in an old, familiar place. Careful to keep her distance so she wouldn’t do something dumb like hug him, she moved back to the passenger side.

  “You’re welcome.” His eyebrows were flexed in a thoughtful frown as he resumed his place behind the wheel.

  They’d topped off the gas tank and were back on the highway when he finally spoke. “You decided not to race cars, but you followed his footsteps and became a firefighter?”

  “That was also a bit of an uphill battle,” she said. “Though there was more support in place. The gender bias decreases every year.” It would be nice if someday she and other female firefighters wouldn’t have to cope with people who shared Murtagh’s outdated views.

  “Racing is really how I got interested in firefighting,” she continued. “Dad was an inspiration, of course. Watching the safety crews and the pit crews in action really convinced me,” she added, thinking of the time when her father’s engine had roared to life and promptly exploded into a ball of flame.

  Inexplicably content, she watched the evening light fade to dusky blue velvet over the river as they returned to the city. Summer twilight always left her nostalgic for dirt racetracks with her father and camping trips with the family.

  “Thanks for a great time,” she said, when he’d parked the Camaro back inside the bay so he could make the adjustments to the clutch. She knew it hadn’t been a date, though it had been one of the best evenings she’d had in recent memory. She stretched her arms overhead, wishing it could last just a little longer. Still, rejuvenated and relaxed, her body thrumming from the car and the man, she walked over to the bay where her car waited.

  Beside the classic muscle car, her disassembled compact looked more pitiful than ever. If only she could buy the loaner car from him, she’d tell him to scrap the weary car for parts, assuming there was anything of value left in it. Murtagh’s mottled face flashed into her mind and she fought back a wave of resentment over his frivolous lawsuit. Refusing to let trouble creep in and spoil her mood, she started toward the camper.

  “Kenzie, hang on.”

  She suppressed the little shiver that went through her at the sound of his low voice as she turned back toward him.

  “I like the way you drive and the way you listened to the car. If—” His cell phone rang, cutting him off. “Hold that thought,” he said, before he answered.

  She knew something was wrong when what she’d come to consider his normal scowl deepened into a troubled expression, shadowing his hazel eyes. Concerned, she took a step closer to him.

  “She’s fine,” Stephen said to the caller. “Yes, I’m sure. I’m looking right
at her.” Another pause. “Consider it done.” He ended the call and tucked his phone into his back pocket.

  “That was Grant,” he said, as he moved to lower the door on the open bay, closing them in the privacy of the shop.

  “What happened?”

  “Someone vandalized a car in the Escape Club parking lot. The customer was naturally upset and called the cops.”

  “Good,” she interjected. “Was there more?” she prompted, when he didn’t move or explain anything else about the call. “Was he phoning for a tow truck?”

  Stephen ran his hand through his hair, mussing it, and her fingers twitched as if she had a right to smooth it back into place. She forced her eyes away from the way his T-shirt rode the flex of his biceps.

  “Yes, they needed a tow truck, but Grant called someone else.” Stephen’s gaze locked with hers and a chill slid down her spine.

  There was more. “Just say it.”

  “The vandalized car is nearly identical to your loaner.”

  Her knees wanted to buckle, though she refused to show it. Her stomach twisted. “Murtagh.”

  Stephen’s chin jerked in a brief nod. “Grant’s thinking the same thing. He wants you and me to stay alert.”

  She shuddered at the idea of Murtagh following her and watching her so closely. No amount of willpower or resolve could restrain her reaction. Stephen reached out and rubbed the goose bumps from her bare arms.

  “What if...?” She stopped herself a half second too late. All the ways Murtagh could hurt someone, thinking he was getting even with her, flashed through her mind in a blur. As a first responder, she’d seen plenty of the mishaps, accidents and deliberate injuries people suffered. She covered her mouth with a hand, trying to regain her composure. Stephen didn’t need her going to pieces.

  “No one got hurt,” he said. “Grant says it was only property damage.”

  Kenzie stepped back from him and tucked her hands into her back pockets before she could give in and lean into all his quiet strength. “No witnesses?”

  “He didn’t mention anyone coming forward. You can ask him next time you’re over there. But you won’t be going to and from the club alone.”

  “Stephen, you have a business to run. You can’t trail after me everywhere I go.” That kind of hovering would give Murtagh’s threats too much validity and erode what was left of her confidence. Where was her spine? What had happened to the courage and defiance that had gotten her over every other hurdle life dropped in her path?

  “Fine.” He leaned back against a workbench. “You can take a different car every time you leave.”

  “Stop.” She waved off the offer. “The vandalism at the club might very well be a complete coincidence. You know the loaner is a fairly common model.”

  He rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. “Right. Grant Sullivan is known for jumping to outrageous conclusions.”

  Her temper spiked and she swallowed the rude retort on the tip of her tongue. Stephen wasn’t the problem. He was only trying to help. “That’s not it. I don’t want to be more of an imposition. The depositions don’t even start for another week,” she managed. She glanced again at the heap of parts that were once a car. “I’ll take care of that between my shifts at the club this week and find a different place to stay. You don’t need my drama in here.”

  “This is the safest place for you and you know it.”

  True. “Hotels have security,” she pointed out.

  “For a price,” he shot back.

  Frustrated, she wanted to kick something. There had to be some way to get control of the mess that was her life. Temporary mess.

  “I could take care of your car in my sleep. Let me.”

  “No.” She couldn’t handle more of his kindness right now. “It’s my responsibility. Let me know what else you need me to do around here in trade for the time and space. Something more than the phone.”

  “Fine.” His gaze narrowed.

  He didn’t sound all that fine about it. “Thank you,” she whispered, through the tangle of emotions. Anger at Murtagh, gratitude for Stephen’s unflagging generosity and concern for some unknown person who’d been caught in the crossfire of her troubles twisted her up inside.

  “Your car, your repair,” Stephen said. “But you’re staying in the trailer. That part isn’t up for further discussion.”

  “Okay.” She turned away and headed to the camper. If she stuck around, she’d start crying. Stephen did not need that.

  It had been such a wonderful day with the Galway family, topped with the treat of her first time taking real laps on the same track where she and her dad had enjoyed themselves all those summers ago. Did Murtagh’s actions have to poison everything? For the first time she gave serious consideration to leaving town against legal advice. It might be worth risking the “appearance of guilt” to get away for a few days.

  Her nose stung and for a split second tears blurred her vision. Give up Philly and her place in it because some whiny jerk didn’t like the way she’d saved his life?

  No. She yanked open the camper door and turned on the lights. She would not give Murtagh that kind of power over her life. Although he might take her career, he couldn’t have a single one of the intangibles that made her the Kenzie Hughes her family and coworkers respected.

  “Kenzie?”

  She glanced over her shoulder to find Stephen watching her from the corner of the building. Was a man supposed to look that sexy with a scowl on his face? Studying him, she realized she couldn’t just leave. Not after Grant had asked her to keep an eye on Stephen. She’d given her word and she took that type of promise seriously. Besides, it would be so much better to think of something other than her problems.

  “More trouble?” she asked, coming back down the steps. Why couldn’t Murtagh be satisfied wrecking her career with the lawsuit? Petty behavior like vandalism didn’t make any sense to her.

  “No.” Stephen crossed to her with a few ground-eating strides and the light from the camper window washed over his face, revealing the depth of concern in his gaze. “You’re safe here behind this fence, with me. I promise.”

  Standing on the bottom step, she was eye level with him. His words smoothed over all her prickling nerves. She almost gave him those same words back, except her protecting him wasn’t supposed to be obvious.

  He looked so earnest, so determined to tolerate her invasion of his space until everything in her world was back to normal. “I appreciate that.” Knowing how much he preferred his solitude, she felt the gesture unravel something within her.

  Leaning forward, Kenzie brushed her lips to his cheek. A light, friendly, platonic gesture was all she intended. Instead, he caught her as if he thought she’d lost her balance, his hands hot on her waist. Then his lips touched hers. By accident or design, the spark of contact set her body humming. She braced her hands on his strong shoulders, wanting to sink a little deeper, explore his taste as his masculine scent and the summer night enveloped her.

  It would be reckless to fall into that sweet fantasy. She eased back, forced her hands to come along with the rest of her. “Thanks again, for everything today.” She darted into the camper on quivering legs.

  Whoa. That had been an eye-opener.

  She moved away from the door and clapped a hand over her mouth before the nervous laughter bubbling up could burst free. Her lips felt as though she’d tasted something too spicy. She’d had plenty of real dates in the past that didn’t end with a kiss as enticing as that one. There was some serious heat simmering under all that calm, cool and collected that Stephen projected.

  Heat that ignited a tantalizing jolt of desire in her bloodstream.

  Don’t go there, she scolded herself. That kiss had been a happy accident. She had to put it, and all the hot-summer-night fantasies the feel of his lips on hers stirred up, out of her mind.
It was the only sane way forward.

  * * *

  Stunned, Stephen felt his feet grow roots, holding him in place as Kenzie disappeared behind the trailer door. She’d kissed him. No. He’d kissed her. Did it matter who’d started it? He licked his lips, catching the faint taste of her strawberry lip gloss. Strawberry. That was a surprise.

  When his feet were finally ready to cooperate, he turned and walked away from the trailer, if only because he wanted to climb those steps, throw open the door, pull her into his arms and kiss her again.

  Not the best move after he’d just told her she was safe with him here on his property. What had he been thinking? He hadn’t been thinking at all, obviously, but acting on impulse.

  He wasn’t supposed to be kissing Kenzie or anyone else. Reality doused him as effectively as a cold shower. His last first kiss had been with Annabeth. Kenzie hadn’t meant anything romantic by the gesture. She’d aimed for his cheek and something inexplicable had him taking advantage of the moment.

  Back in the office, he closed the door but didn’t lock it, just in case she needed something in the night. His conscience demanded to know what he thought she might need. Did he expect her to run in and ask him to comfort her after a nightmare? Yeah, that would happen. Maybe she would need shelter from an intruder? Not a chance. His security system would alert him long before a trespasser could cause any trouble.

  He glared at the dead bolt and couldn’t make himself turn it to lock her out.

  For the first time he thought maybe his mom and sisters had a point about him needing to dive back into the dating pool. Unfortunately, that didn’t feel right, either.

  Kissing Kenzie was proof he wasn’t ready. He’d chosen the wrong response to a friendly gesture and now he was overreacting and overanalyzing the mistake. He could only imagine the blunders he would make on a real date.

  So why was he still reliving those few seconds of her lips on his as if he’d never been kissed before?

  “Man up,” he muttered, double-checking the status of the security system at the desk.