by Regan Black
“You’ve been great...”
He heard the “but” and mentally finished the sentence several ways, all of them unfavorable. “Murtagh clearly isn’t done,” Stephen said. “It’s okay to rely on me until the cops can pin something on him and keep him out of your way. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
She stared at her beer bottle. “Thanks.” Her voice cracked on the single syllable.
It was as close as he’d seen her come to actual tears. “Come here,” he said, making room for her on his chair between his legs.
“I’m fine.”
“Maybe I’m not?” It would be nice to hold her close and relax in the knowledge that they were both alive and well. “I could use some company watching the fire die out.”
“If only we knew of a way to put it out safely, right now.”
He chuckled, the sound startling both of them.
“No fun in that.” He patted the chair. “Spoils the ambience.”
She moved over to perch at the end of his chair.
“Scared?” he asked.
“Not of you.”
“Good.” He drew her back against his chest, his legs bracketing hers. He was almost afraid to breathe until she finally relaxed against him.
It was a quiet intimacy he hadn’t shared with anyone since his fiancée, and he suspected they both needed the comfort after the things they’d dealt with today.
“Was the accident as bad as it sounded?” she asked, in little more than a whisper.
“Worse,” he admitted.
She linked her fingers with his and they didn’t talk anymore as they watched the fire die down. He felt like he was going in reverse with her, giving her his home, sleeping with her to burn off adrenaline, and now, resting easy. Maybe it made sense in the context of their odd and sudden friendship. They had so much in common, loner tendencies among them.
The other night, they’d simply found each other, used each other, and now...
Now what? he asked that voice in his head. This was temporary. Kenzie wasn’t meant to be a permanent fixture, no matter how well she seemed to fit into his life and business. She was right; at some point she had to go back to her life.
He didn’t want that day to be any time soon.
When she was nearly asleep on his chest, he roused her and nudged her into the camper.
He stirred the coals and dumped the last of his beer over them. Certain the fire was out, he retreated to his makeshift apartment in the office. He splashed water on his face and changed into a T-shirt and shorts, but as he made up the bed, he changed his mind.
Returning to the camper, he knocked lightly and waited for her invitation.
“Come in.”
He walked inside and caught her standing at the bathroom door, toothbrush in hand. “The office is too far away.” He moved to the dinette and started changing it to a bed. “I’m sleeping here tonight.”
Her smile was slow and beautiful and loaded with gentle understanding. “Okay. Grab what you need.”
He helped himself to a pillow and blanket and stretched out while she finished brushing her teeth. When she came out, she didn’t go to the bedroom, she curled up beside him, her back to his chest. When he stiffened, uncertain, she drew his arm over her waist.
From one breath to the next she was asleep. Well, hell.
Breathing in the warm citrus scent of her hair, he decided he wasn’t going anywhere before morning. He wouldn’t abuse this trust. He might just be the luckiest broken man in the world.
Chapter 11
He’d been there when she woke up on Friday. The overwhelming peace of that just rolled over her, easing the anxiety that had been building until she thought she’d break. Her first thought had been to kiss the burnished gold whiskers shading his jaw, to wake him up slowly with sensual caresses so they could thoroughly enjoy each other.
She’d never be able to keep things light, friendly or simple if she made that move. Her heart was perched, ready to fall into his strong hands. She wasn’t sure she could walk away whole if she gave him all she felt right now.
They slipped into a comfortable routine through Friday and Saturday, staying close to the garage and working on the Nova. Together. He’d closed the garage for a long weekend in honor of the holiday and they were alone in a cocoon of car parts, tools and music. She loved every minute of it.
Of course, she knew they stuck to the garage in part to dodge the media and to keep her out of Murtagh’s sight. It was only Stephen who had to cope with her rant when the PFD moved her back to full administrative leave on Friday afternoon. And only Stephen knew how hard she clung when he pulled her into a reassuring embrace.
On Saturday morning the Camaro came back, and it was stunning with the silver-and-black paint scheme. They took a quick trip around the neighborhood to test it out, and satisfied, Stephen parked it in the fourth bay, where it would safely wait for Matt Riley to pick it up.
On Sunday morning they shared coffee and muffins she’d baked, while they admired the completed Camaro and work-in-progress Nova. In the afternoon, they enjoyed a few leisurely hours at the Galway house, getting silly with the little ones, giving her time to convince Myra she was coping with the latest debacle. It was all so happy and normal, so easy.
She and Stephen didn’t touch at all in front of his family, but she felt his eyes on her and knew he felt her watching him, too. At some point they were going to have to talk or risk exploding from the desire arcing between them.
Dressed for the wedding, they took the convertible out to Boathouse Row. Stephen was model handsome in his dark evening suit and his eyes were hot when he saw her emerge from the camper in her shimmering strapless dress.
Whatever Shannon and Daniel had done to secure this venue on the Fourth of July paid off big time, in Kenzie’s opinion. The early evening ceremony was intimate and brief, with guests gathered around an arch of ivy where the couple exchanged vows. The only attendant was Shannon’s son, Aiden, standing proudly between them.
The reception spilled outside to the dock and a lovely lawn, and the Jenningses had timed it perfectly so everyone could relax and enjoy plenty of food and cake and dancing as they waited for the fireworks display to start at dark.
Kenzie couldn’t take her eyes off the sweet family dancing together in the center of the parquet floor, surrounded by their equally delighted guests. Daniel was practically bursting with pride and love for his bride and stepson.
“I’ve never seen him so happy,” Kenzie said to Stephen.
“Daniel or Aiden?” he asked.
“Both.” She chuckled. “All three, really,” she added.
Daniel had once vented to her after a difficult breakup that he wouldn’t date again until after he retired from the fire department. She understood the sentiment. Outsiders seemed to have this warped image of the job—that they were all bravery wrapped up in fitness and sex appeal—until things turned dangerous. Then the adrenaline-junkie accusations would fly, followed closely by pleas and ultimatums.
Her last boyfriend had been shocked she’d chosen the PFD over him. Being dumped for showing commitment to the job was a fairly common theme among her peers. It took a certain type of person to understand the rigors and the joys of the work they did. Firefighters and other first responders saw more than most people wanted to share and way more than others needed to know. Doing the job well didn’t mean doing it unscathed, emotionally or physically.
Her gaze drifted over the other guests. Mitch and Julia were having a blast on the dance floor. Her friend Carson Lane was sharing a dessert with his new wife, Lissa. They’d eloped a few weeks ago and returned oozing joy and contentment. Right now, with foreheads nearly touching, they were clearly sharing an inside joke. Kenzie was so happy for the two of them even as a wisp of envy breezed over her.
Someday. With the rig
ht man.
Wonderful events like weddings and the memories being made here were all the more precious because they were on the front lines during their community’s most stressful moments. Her day to share this kind of affirmation of life and love with friends and family would come. Her heart clamored that she’d found the right man. Her mind and soul wanted to agree, yet she couldn’t bring herself to push him for answers. Not yet.
She glanced at Stephen, wondering what to make of these past two weeks, primarily the past few days. Since waking up together they had shared several kisses, a few tantalizing embraces and lots of laughter, but they were tiptoeing around the bigger issues. Neither of them wanted to talk about the next step and both were avoiding another tumble into bed.
For her part, much of it was the pervasive uncertainty of Murtagh, her career, and where she might have to go to keep doing what she loved.
“Kenzie?”
“Hmm?” Her thoughts had drifted well beyond the wedding reception. Even here she’d let Murtagh creep into her mind like an oily fog. She’d fought so hard to stay on the job despite his antics, yet as she watched Shannon slip into Daniel’s embrace for a slow dance, Kenzie wondered if going in a new direction professionally would open things up personally.
Maybe she should talk to Jason about how he’d made the transition.
Stephen covered her hand with his. “Would you like to dance?”
Her body responded to that gentle pressure of his callused palm. Warmth flooded over her from that first point of contact and butterflies fluttered through her belly. With a smile, she stood and walked hand in hand with him to the dance floor.
A serene peace enveloped her as he drew her close, buffering the persistent, sharp desire she felt whenever he was near. That longing had her on edge constantly. Every day was a new test of her willpower to keep things light, when she wanted to explore every hard inch of his body and reclaim that spectacular pleasure they’d shared only once.
His hand rested lightly at her waist, his shoulder firm under the fine fabric of his suit. She remembered the feel of that shoulder, the heat rolling off him as he’d braced himself over her in the bed. It was all she could do not to press her body into his.
Not a good idea to reveal so much with her friends and his brother watching, eagerly hoping for something romantic to develop between them.
“Are you blushing?” His voice was soft at her ear.
“I hope not.” She lifted her face and offered him her brightest smile. “It’s been a lovely evening.”
“It has,” he agreed.
The moment stretched and swelled, full of romance and potential with the music swirling around them, the lights twinkling overhead, the scent of lilies in the air. Somehow she managed to keep her lips away from his.
“Thanks for being my plus one,” she said, as they swayed together. She found him as enticing in his suit and tie as she did when he was elbow deep in an engine at the garage.
“I didn’t think I’d enjoy it,” he admitted. His eyes were hot when they met hers and his fingers flexed at her waist. “This makes the effort worthwhile.”
She knew the ceremony had been tough on him, but he’d soldiered on with that stoic expression he applied to every uncomfortable task. If he’d been at Julia and Mitch’s wedding, she didn’t recall seeing him.
“Were you at your brother’s wedding?” She regretted the question immediately as his body went tight all over.
“Of course.”
“I was at the reception.” She leaned back, pretending to leer at him. “I can’t believe I overlooked you in the sexy older brother tuxedo.”
As she’d hoped, teasing him eased the strain she’d inadvertently created.
“I ducked out early,” he replied.
“My loss.” She smoothed her hand over his shoulder, offering a small comfort.
He tugged her close. “You think so?”
His husky tone sent goose bumps racing from her hair all the way to her toes. He guided her through a final turn, gave her a squeeze as the band switched to a more lively song. She had to stifle her frustration. She wasn’t ready to move on from this more fascinating side of Stephen.
They strolled from the dance floor toward the champagne table and he handed her a glass, taking water for himself.
One more example of the caring, thoughtful nature he frequently hid with a scowl. He’d been generous with everything, going above and beyond to help her. He’d expressed great care for her safety and offered comfort in her lowest moments. They’d even had mind-blowing sex they couldn’t seem to talk about. It shouldn’t have meant anything, except it did to her. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to know what it might have meant to him.
Just ask, she told herself.
She sipped her champagne and tried not to blush again. Her past was peppered with a few short flings to go along with the two serious relationships. She’d been borderline delusional, or possibly too needy, to believe she could keep her emotions out of whatever this was with Stephen.
Maybe the scent of a working garage had gone to her head. That factor didn’t hurt, but it was the man who pulled her attention, made her feel safe enough that she could let her guard down and sleep, or shout, or laugh with abandon.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“The Camaro,” she fibbed. Chicken! “Do you think we can take it out one more time before the buyer picks it up?”
“I can’t make any promises. Riley told me he has all of next week as vacation and will try to get up here to pick it up.”
“Bummer.”
“There are other cars out there.” Stephen drew her away from the champagne table just to the edge of the lighting, where they couldn’t be overheard. “Tell me what you were really thinking about.”
“You,” she answered, deciding to stop being a coward.
He cocked an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate.
If they were going to delve into feelings, it would be wonderful if he could go first. Too bad she didn’t see the conversation going that way.
“You think this atmosphere is getting to me?” he asked.
“No. From my vantage point you’re managing just fine.” Could he see that for himself, or was his vision still too clouded by his loss?
“You don’t sound particularly happy about it.”
“On the contrary.” She rubbed a hand over his arm. “I’m thrilled. I’d been feeling guilty for dragging you here. All my claims about independence and still I needed a friend to hold my hand for a trip across town.”
He took her free hand in his, gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad you asked me.”
They both knew it was a cheesy half-truth and she laughed despite the sensations his touch stirred.
A rash of “if only” thoughts went through her mind like a stampede. If only they’d met earlier. If only he could stop blaming himself for the past. If only he was ready to move on and try loving someone else. Someone like her.
Loving.
Yes. That sounded perfect. Her heart gave a kick while her mind flooded with images of what loving Stephen would look like. That was probably light years ahead of where they were tonight. It might even be impossible. Still, it was love, and her heart would not allow her to believe otherwise. She knew it as surely as she knew her name.
Under the spotlight of that truth, her courage crumbled. It was the one thing she wasn’t sure she could tell him without hurting them both.
“I should go say hi to Julia.” It was a lame and ineffective diversion and she couldn’t decide if she wanted him to let her off the hook or not.
“In a minute.”
His gaze fell to her lips and her pulse leaped as he leaned in and covered her mouth. The kiss went from tender to blazing in the span of a heartbeat. She tasted the tart lemon of the wed
ding cake as his tongue stroked boldly across hers. With their joined hands trapped between them, she nearly dropped the glass in favor of holding on for dear life. She wanted to get closer almost as much as she wanted to get him alone.
Stripping him out of this suit would be an erotic pleasure. Her palms were tingling already, anticipating another go at his sculpted body.
Nearby, fireworks began with a heavy boom and she gave a start as bursts of gorgeous color sparkled through the trees, danced in the reflection of the river.
His mouth trailed along her jaw and he nipped her ear. “Can we go home now?” His breath fanned the sensitive flesh of her neck and she shivered. “Please.”
“Yes.” She was wound so tight, she hoped they could get out without having to speak to anyone.
“Don’t move.” He kissed her, lightning quick, and slipped the glass out of her hand.
A moment later he was back and he tucked her under his arm as they moved around behind the party toward the parking area. He paused several times for deep, lingering kisses, as if he couldn’t go two minutes without a taste of her.
She knew just how he felt. The sweet anticipation mounted in the car when they could only hold hands or sneak a kiss at a stoplight. She nearly suggested stopping at the next motel they passed, but checking in would likely take longer than finishing the drive to his place.
When the garage gate closed again after he pulled through, she was tempted to dive on him.
Last time, they’d fallen on each other so fast, all that heat and need. Now she wanted to take her time and savor the process. Savor every lean, sexy inch of him.
He parked the car at the camper steps. Swiveling in his seat, he wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. She kept herself from falling into his lap with one hand on his muscular thigh. Maybe the car could work for round one this time. No, no. She wanted to take it slow.
He shifted, rapped his knee on the steering wheel and muttered an oath against her lips. She laughed. “I’ll race you to the steps.” Throwing open the car door, she was impressed her quivering legs were up to the task. But Stephen hadn’t run for the door. He’d turned toward her and, halfway between the car and the camper, caught her in his powerful embrace, pressing her body to his. His arousal was evident and her hips flexed in an almost painful eagerness for the pleasure ahead.