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Braving the Heat

Page 22

by Regan Black


  He groaned, his hands squeezing her hips.

  Her lips found his and she slid her hands under his jacket, crushing his perfectly pressed dress shirt as she tried to tug it free of his waistband.

  “Kenzie...” He murmured her name over and over as he nuzzled the length of her neck. He leaned her back and trailed more of those provocative kisses lower, along the skin bared by her strapless dress.

  “Stephen,” she breathed, as the summer breeze and his touch played havoc with her senses. “Inside.” Protected by his security system or not, she’d rather not run the risk of this private moment getting caught on a camera.

  He didn’t hesitate, nudging her toward the camper. His warmth and scent surrounded her as he reached around and opened the door. His fingers skimmed under the hem of her dress, along the backs of her knees as she started up the steps. She froze, mesmerized by those rough fingers.

  “Inside,” he reminded her, his palms sliding the fabric of her dress over her hips and back down.

  She darted into the camper and immediately turned to him, using his tie to bring his lips to hers. Oh, the way he kissed left her breathless and obliterated her self-control.

  Her heart racing, she forced herself to slow down as she pushed his jacket off his shoulders. He ran his fingertips back and forth across the top edge of her dress while desire pooled low in her belly. Neither of them spoke; they just watched each other, as if any word would shatter the moment.

  She unknotted his tie and started on his buttons, breathing in the clean scent rising from his skin at the base of his throat. When she kissed that vulnerable spot, he groaned again and boosted her onto the tabletop.

  Her startled giggle faded as he tugged the fabric back and his mouth closed over her breast. She breathed his name like a prayer. His teeth tugged lightly on her taut nipple and she moaned, shoving her hand into his thick hair.

  He wedged his hips between her thighs and she wrapped her legs around his and rocked against him. When at last her hands were cruising along his torso, the slabs of muscle honed by hard work, she remembered why she’d wanted to take it slow.

  She drank in the sight of him, memorizing every rise and hollow that defined his body. Burnished gold hair dusted his chest, turning darker below his navel. Her fingers followed the trail of their own volition.

  He caught her hands at his belt. “Kenzie. You’re too much.”

  “Same goes,” she replied, kissing the hard line of his jaw. “Let’s be too much together.”

  His chin jerked in a nod and he claimed her mouth once more as she reached back and unzipped her dress. The fabric fell to her waist as his hands covered her breasts, teasing and molding her until she was rocking against him, pleading for more.

  He lifted her from the table, let the dress fall to the floor, then walked backward toward the bed, bringing her along. She worked his belt loose and he took over, undressing in a rush. No more barriers between them, he fell back on the bed with her sprawled over him.

  Oh, this was a fantastic view, and she sat up to enjoy it. To relish all of him this time as she’d promised herself she would. In no hurry now, she feathered kisses over his torso, her hands moving leisurely. This was her chance to give him pleasure, to stoke his passion and hers by reflecting every sensual desire he brought to life in her.

  Suddenly, he turned the tables, rolling her under him and kissing her soundly before taking his skilled lips lower over her breasts, down her belly and lower still to her core. The fast climax bowed her body and he soothed her as she trembled on that delicate edge. When he filled her, thrusting deep, she experienced an indescribable sense of unity.

  Love makes all the difference, she thought, reveling in every sensation.

  The rest of the world faded, her only thoughts for Stephen and this moment, loving him with all she had right here and now. With her body rather than words he might reject. She gazed up at his intense face, stroking the hard ridges and sinews of his arms. She was too lost in him to hide the feelings roaring through her, and she surged up to steal a kiss.

  He laced his fingers with hers, filling her body and soul, and driving them both closer to that sparkling peak. The pressure built and built, and when the climax swept through her he swallowed her cries in a hard kiss as he found his own release.

  For a long delicious moment their hearts thundered together. Moving to lie beside her, he drew her in close, and her fingers skimmed through the curls of hair on his chest as she tried to fit all the pieces of herself back together.

  It was a lost cause, she thought with a private smile. She kissed his chest, wishing her happiness could fill all the spaces of his heart that had been damaged by grief. The words were there, eager to burst free, and she held them back.

  She didn’t want him to try to explain away her feelings with the excuse of the romantic wedding or post-sex high. What she felt for him wasn’t going anywhere. It was simply a matter of giving him time to discover if he could love her in return.

  * * *

  At just past six, Stephen’s phone hummed and chimed. Tangled up with Kenzie in the bed, he quickly silenced it before realizing it wasn’t his morning alarm, but a notice from the security system. One of the floodlights on this side of the lot came on, slicing through the dim interior of the trailer. In their fascination with each other, they’d forgotten to pull the curtains.

  “What is it?” Kenzie mumbled, tugging the blanket over her head.

  “Nothing serious.” He knew his security system was making the correct response to whatever had tripped the alarm. Most likely a cat had set off the motion detector. It happened occasionally.

  He moved out of the bed as he cycled through the camera feeds, and barely stifled an outburst when he came across the hole in the back fence. It took a precious few seconds to find the angle that showed a man tagging Kenzie’s original loaner car with a can of red spray paint.

  Stephen pressed the icon to get someone from the security service on the line. He snatched the slacks he’d worn to the wedding from the floor. As he pulled on his pants and searched for his shirt, the service confirmed the silent alarm had been tripped and police were on the way.

  The operator advised him to stay in place, out of sight. Stephen wasn’t taking any chances. If this was Murtagh, he wanted to provide an eyewitness identification. He found his shirt and slipped it on.

  “Stephen?” Kenzie was sitting up now, her hair tumbled. “What is it?”

  “Security notified the cops about a breach in the fence. It’s handled. Go back to sleep.”

  “Too late. I’m awake,” she said.

  “Stay here anyway,” he told her. For the first time since she’d kissed him on the camper steps, Stephen wished he’d been sleeping in the office. Then he’d have access to dozens of tools that would make useful defensive weapons.

  At the moment, he had only his wits and his phone.

  Watching the vandal’s progress through the feed on the cell phone, Stephen silently stepped out into the cool morning air. He intended to block the hole in the fence, preventing an escape.

  The derogatory message in red paint on the side of the office would have been bad enough on its own. Hearing the vandal attempting to open the bay doors propelled Stephen into action.

  No way he’d let anyone destroy client cars, especially not the Camaro that Riley was eager to pick up. Stephen hustled around to the front of the shop, cringing at the sight of wet paint dripping across Kenzie’s loaner car.

  The message there and on the office wall was identical to the harsh words scrawled across the firehouse, only this time, Murtagh had been caught holding the spray paint can.

  “Step away from my property,” Stephen said. He held up his phone and pressed the camera icon. Between the phone and the security cameras there shouldn’t be any wiggle room for Murtagh.

  “If it isn’t the boyfriend
,” he sneered.

  “The cops are on their way.” Stephen took another step closer. “You won’t get away with this.”

  “Get away with what? I was walking by and saw a kid squeeze out of the fence. Came to make sure you and Miss Hughes were all right.”

  “No one will buy that. There are cameras covering every inch of the property inside this fence.” He’d never been more pleased or satisfied by his decision to beef up his security. “Your lies won’t do any good this time.”

  Murtagh’s eyes went wide in his puffy face. “Bull. You have one camera on the gate, that’s all.”

  “Feel free to believe that. Tell it to the cops if you like.” He nodded toward the gate. “Here they are now.”

  Murtagh did an excellent impression of a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. He froze, refusing to give an explanation or make any comments without his lawyer present. The responding officers had him cuffed and were hauling him to a cruiser when he spotted Kenzie hovering at the corner of the building.

  Stephen was close enough to see Murtagh’s eyes turn cold and vicious, his face flooding with angry color. Whatever delusion plagued Murtagh, the man wasn’t done with Kenzie.

  Stephen blocked Murtagh’s view, taking the full brunt of the man’s hatred.

  Two policemen settled Murtagh into the backseat, while another one questioned Stephen.

  “Will you be pressing charges, sir?” the officer asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then come on down to the station. I’ll get the paperwork started.” The officer turned to Kenzie. “Did you see the man tag anything, ma’am?”

  “No,” she said. “Will Stephen’s statement be enough to keep him off the streets?”

  “We can hope,” the officer said. “Have a good day.”

  “When can I clean this up?” Stephen didn’t want to leave these offensive messages up any longer than necessary, out of respect for Kenzie.

  “Thanks to your security system, we have all we need,” the officer replied.

  When they were alone, Stephen pulled her into the trailer and just wrapped his arms around her. She was safe. His security measures had worked, protecting her and his property.

  “Coffee,” she said, withdrawing after a moment. She looked adorable in her worn cutoffs, a tank top emblazoned with the name of a band that recently played the Escape Club, and one of the Galway Automotive caps on her head.

  “This will hold him,” he said, uncertain which of them needed more reassurance.

  “Maybe. Depends on what they charge him with,” she said, her normally cheerful features grim. “I saw his face when they hauled him out of here. He blames me for everything that sucks in his life.”

  “He’s wrong,” Stephen said, rubbing her back. Kenzie epitomized all the good stuff left in the world. “I’ll get started on the fence,” he said, when she slipped out from under his hands.

  He missed the warmth of her lithe body and the softness of her hair falling loose, but he sensed she was looking for more than physical distance.

  “I’ll call someone to clean up the graffiti.”

  “You don’t have to do that. It’s not like you’re a real employee.”

  She sent him a long, inscrutable look from under the bill of the ball cap. “If you’re working on a holiday, so am I.”

  It took him a second to figure out what she meant. With the wedding, he’d forgotten today was a holiday, since July Fourth had landed on a Sunday. “Right. I’ll change clothes and take care of the fence.”

  When it was repaired, Stephen had to decide whether or not Kenzie should go with him to the police station to make the report. He didn’t want to leave her here alone and he really didn’t want to run the risk of her bumping into Murtagh.

  Grant and his crew had their hands full with another concert setup, so that was out. Though she wasn’t expected at the firehouse, maybe they would let her visit. Mitch was on duty and Stephen didn’t trust many other people with her safety.

  If he explained the situation to his dad, Samuel could stay here while Stephen filed the report. Kenzie might never know how worried he really was for her. His dad wasn’t available, but his mom offered to come over under the guise of needing more windshield wiper fluid. Myra could make that small task last hours if necessary.

  He was just telling Kenzie to keep the gate closed while he was gone when his mom pulled in.

  Kenzie aimed an exasperated look at him. “You called a babysitter?”

  “No.” He shuffled his feet. “Not exactly.”

  “It’s fine,” she said. “I get it.”

  “You do?” He hadn’t expected resigned acceptance of his protectiveness.

  “Yes,” she said, though she didn’t smile. “I wasn’t too thrilled about waiting here alone and your mom is great company.”

  “Kenzie. You should have said something.”

  She shrugged, leaning back against the workbench. “It was just residual fear. It passes.” She’d pulled her coveralls on halfway, gathered at her slender waist in deference to the rising temperature of another bright summer day.

  He reached out and curled his finger around the silky end of the braid resting on her shoulder. “It’s going to work out,” he whispered. He couldn’t label the shadows in her eyes as vulnerable, but something was weighing on her. Probably worry, since he’d guaranteed her safety and Murtagh had managed to get in, anyway.

  “Why don’t I file the report later?”

  “If you don’t press charges now, his lawyers will have him out within the hour,” she said. “Go.” She gave him a little shove. He trapped her hands with his and kissed her.

  Releasing her, he pressed the button to raise the bay door for his mom’s car to pull in. One more layer of protection between Kenzie and the outside world couldn’t hurt.

  He gave his mom a quick hug and then jogged for his car, determined to make the fastest police report in history.

  Chapter 12

  Kenzie needed some time and space to process the myriad emotions flooding her system. Last night had been so beautiful, so much more than sex and physical needs. She’d gone into it knowing her heart was already in Stephen’s oblivious grip, and yet she’d been overcome by the experience.

  Maybe she was romanticizing his basic physical responses due to wedding-effect, or she was using her feelings for Stephen to block out her fear of Murtagh. No. That was insecurity talking. She knew her heart and mind; now she just had to figure out what to do about it.

  First, she had to accept that if Murtagh was willing to cut through a fence and vandalize Stephen’s business, he might never quit hounding her. Would he drop this pursuit if she gave up her career? Maybe they should get that story out there and see if he gave up the hunt.

  With all of that in her head, she gave Myra a warm smile. “Does your car need any service?”

  “Probably not.” Her own sheepish smile was so like her oldest son’s. “The wiper fluid might be low.”

  “I’ll take a look,” Kenzie said, heading to the sporty crossover.

  “I brought coffee cake,” Myra said, while Kenzie raised the hood.

  “You know Stephen keeps plenty of coffee around.”

  “Do you have time to chat?” Myra asked.

  “Of course.” She didn’t have anywhere else to go. She checked the level in the reservoir and added more fluid. Closing the hood, she walked over to the shop sink and washed her hands before leading Myra into the office.

  “I know Stephen was worried about leaving me alone,” Kenzie said. “Thanks for coming by.”

  “After this dreadful vandalism, I can understand his concerns.”

  “Me, too.” Kenzie set a cup of coffee to brew for Myra.

  She was feeling inexplicably emotional and not at all ready to discuss the real issues with S
tephen’s mom. Yes, she loved Stephen and she was fairly sure the news wouldn’t surprise a mother as tuned in as Myra. Kenzie just wasn’t sure love would be enough to keep Stephen. He hadn’t given her any real indication that he was ready to leave the emotional safety net of his dead fiancée.

  “Samuel tells me Murtagh drank heavily his last year with the PFD. They tried to get him help, but he just wouldn’t take responsibility for his actions.”

  “Some people don’t want help.” Kenzie pulled a chair closer to the desk so they could use it as a table. “Not until they hit rock bottom.”

  “True,” Myra agreed. She sliced coffee cake for each of them and they sat on either side of the desk to eat. “Mistakes, booze and a bad attitude forced him into retirement.”

  Raspberry streusel, Kenzie realized, as she bit into the buttery pastry. “This is amazing.”

  “It’s one of Stephen’s favorites.”

  Kenzie took a bigger bite, hoping she wouldn’t be cornered into asking for the recipe like a woman planning to stick around. Her wants and hopes were irrelevant if Stephen wasn’t ready to make that kind of commitment.

  “I didn’t make the connection earlier. Samuel reminded me that Randall Murtagh was replaced by the first female firefighter to come into that house.”

  And then another woman had rescued him. No wonder he’d gone off the rails. “Is he still drinking?”

  “I don’t know. He’s been a loner ever since,” Myra said. “The problem with waiting until someone hits rock bottom is never really knowing where that point is.”

  True. “Are you concerned about someone?”

  Myra’s lips curved and her eyes, filled with love, crinkled at the corners. “Always. At the moment, I’m concerned you’ll get caught in Randall’s blind, misplaced hatred.”

 

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