by Sara Arden
Sophie suddenly felt like they were playing house, or at least she was. Lord knows how many times she’d imagined him in her kitchen. In her life.
She supposed it was sad, but this moment right now, it was a dream come true. She didn’t fantasize about exotic locales, or big houses, and diamonds. A quiet night at home with Hayden Cole was her idea of heaven.
He canted his head. “What?”
“It’s just nice to have company.”
Hayden rewarded her with a smile. “It’s nice to be company.”
A sick guilt twisted her guts even as she said, “Then we should make this dinner and.”
“Dinner and board games?”
“I don’t have any. Will you settle for Netflix?”
“No board games? Sweetheart, we need to fix that.”
The way he said sweetheart curled around her warm and smooth. “We’ll save board games for when you cook me dinner.” God, what was she doing? She was flirting with him. Not that he’d notice or think it was anything other than her gratitude.
And not that he should. Because if for some wild reason he was ever interested in her, he wouldn’t be after he found out the truth.
“You’ll be sorry for that.” He smirked. “But hey, they’re your taste buds.”
After they finished their meal, they moved to the living room and turned on the TV. Sophie realized she was getting exactly what she wanted and there would most certainly be a price to pay.
Her gaze was abruptly jerked to the candle in the window and the others she’d left burning. Again, what had she been thinking?
And he knew.
Sophie didn’t say anything to him, but one look at her face and he made the rounds and extinguished the candles one by one. Hayden put each of them into the basin of the sink. There would be no stray spark, no half-extinguished wick. They were contained.
He didn’t even mention it as he sat down on the couch and stretched his long legs out on the leather ottoman.
She wanted to lean against him, know what it was like to have his arms around her, but this… it would have to be enough. It was enough.
It was more than she deserved.
2
Hayden hadn’t expected dinner. He hadn’t expected anything about the evening. Especially not falling asleep on Sophie Benedict’s couch. Or waking up with her in his arms.
He wasn’t sure when it had happened. They’d been laughing and talking, hate-watching some terrible movies from the eighties and somehow, she’d ended up leaning against him. He’d held her there, like precious cargo, enjoying how she felt against him.
Her trust in him, in allowing or even wanting that connection, it made him feel a hundred feet tall.
It made him want things he’d turned his back on.
She was so sweet and soft—feminine. He forgotten what it was like to hold a woman, to enjoy a connection—touch.
He’d made the decision after what happened to her not to have any strings or commitments. Not because he was afraid of them like some men, but because he knew those things would hold him back. They would keep him from making the hard calls, from taking chances that could save lives. Hayden couldn’t have that.
That wasn’t to say he didn’t have an occasional bed partner, he did. But he didn’t have the connection, the intimacy.
And this? It was intimate.
He looked down at Sophie’s heart-shaped face, so pretty in the faint morning light. She slept on, so trusting, so lovely—her pink bow lips parted ever so slightly. Hayden couldn’t help but think they begged to be kissed.
Hayden imagined her lips would be just as soft and inviting as the rest of her. He wondered if she’d taste like the wine or—
He was a bastard. A first class bastard.
He didn’t deserve the trust she’d put in him.
She wasn’t trying to get him into bed, and if she did, it wasn’t because she wanted him, the man underneath his skin. She didn’t know him. He was just the guy who saved her life. People tended to find that attractive as a whole. There were guys at the Seven who cashed in on the hero complex on a regular basis.
Hayden wasn’t that guy.
Didn’t want to be.
But something about Sophie Benedict made him want. Made him need. He couldn’t explain it, and wished like hell he could escape it.
Before, he’d made his pilgrimage he’d been able to ignore his feelings and push them down deep because she was his victim. Last night, she’d made it clear that she wasn’t a victim, and she’d pushed him to either be her friend for real or move on.
Now here he was.
Pretending to be her friend.
If he were really her friend, if he really cared about her more than himself, he’d have run the other direction and hoped that with enough time, he could forget her and his failure. Instead, he was holding her in the gentle blush of dawn and thinking about what her lips would feel like. The weight of her breasts pressed against his chest, and the insufferable ache of his erection.
If he deserved her trust, he wouldn’t be thinking about how easy it would be to—he stroked his hand down her back slowly and she shifted to get closer to him, her leg over his. Then his gaze fell on the remains of her scars.
Faint though they were, it was like a punch in the face. It was the reminder he needed. How else would he continue hurt this woman for his own selfishness?
It was then her pretty blue eyes opened slowly.
He must’ve had a pained look on his face because her brow furrowed and her lips turned down. “Don’t do that,” she whispered.
“Do what?” Hayden couldn’t help himself, he reached out to push a strand of golden hair out of her face.
“Be sorry that you stayed. Sorry for last night.”
“I’m not.” He shook his head.
“Then why are you making that face? You look like you’re so full of regret that you’re choking on it.”
“I…” He didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to explain his trespass to her without hurting her. Or making her think he was something he wasn’t. “I had a good time, Sophie. I’ve just got a crick in my neck.” Hayden flexed and shifted, turning his head to emphasize the point.
“Oh, sorry!” She squirmed away from him. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”
He felt her absence acutely, the loss of the warmth of her body against his. That sweet softness that he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about.
He was at a loss, so when a heavy rap sounded on the door, he wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or annoyed. Nothing had been resolved, and as ridiculous as it was, he didn’t like the idea of other men coming to see her. But for all he knew, it could be a package delivery, not a guy looking to get into her bed.
Not that it was his business anyway.
“I don’t usually get visitors.” She nodded to the door.
He took that as his cue to answer.
Royce stood there, a night’s growth of stubble on his chin and an obnoxious smirk on his face. “Thought you’d be here. Brought you your truck.” He peered over Hayden’s shoulder. “Hey, Sophie. How you doing?”
Sophie rewarded his brother with an easy smile. “Fine, Royce. Would you like to come in?”
“Wouldn’t dream of imposing. Just thought this knucklehead might like his truck. We got that barbeque at Mom and Dad’s.” He inclined his head toward Hayden. “At noon.”
It was that pointed noon that got his attention. He wanted to go home, shower, have a beer, and work through all of the crazy thoughts in his head. As much as he loved his family, enjoyed spending time with them, his mother would know something was off and she’d dig at him until she got to the little worm that had been gnawing his insides.
He didn’t want to share that with her. He needed that little bastard. It kept him on the straight and narrow. Hayden exhaled heavily.
“You know, brother mine, this is the part where you invite your little friend to stay for dinner.” Royce arch
ed a brow.
Hayden felt like a rat in a trap and Sophie jumped to his rescue.
“Oh, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“You mean like this guy did? Showing up at your house unannounced? I assume you fed him. Otherwise, he’d have eaten your house. He eats everything.”
“Royce!” Hayden finally hissed.
“Not too chipper in the morning either.” Royce winked at Sophie. “If he’s not going to invite you, I will. I know my parents would love to have you.”
“Thanks for the invitation, but me and the noon sun really don’t get along. It’s a little too much,” Sophie demurred.
Hayden realized he was being a dick. “We’ll stay on the deck or inside and make lemonade until you’re comfortable.”
“That might be a lot of lemonade.” Sophie bit her lip.
Hayden could see she wanted to come, but something was holding her back.
“You should come,” Hayden added.
“If you’re sure?”
It was him. He was holding her back from coming. She thought he didn’t want her there. “Yes, Soph. I’m definitely sure.”
She smiled. “Okay.”
Hayden decided he should make his exit now. He was suddenly afraid to be alone with her. Not because of anything she’d done, but because of the direction of his thoughts this morning.
“I need to go shower and pick up something from Granny’s to bring. I’ll see you later?” He gave her another smile.
“Sure. See you later.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Royce rolled his eyes. “I’ll pick you up at eleven forty-five.”
Hayden headed to his truck and something smacked the back of his head. Most likely his brother’s hand.
“What the hell, man?” Hayden rubbed the spot.
“I’ve never seen you with less game. What is that about?”
“What do you care about my game?”
“I wouldn’t, if not for the fact that you hurt her feelings.”
“I didn’t hurt her feelings.” Yeah, he probably had, now that he thought about it. He recalled their earlier conversation about regret. The pain on her face.
“You should save both of you the discomfort and leave her alone. I’ve never seen you this twisted up.”
“I can’t.”
“Then at least remember how to treat people. Ma would smack you harder than that.” Royce shook his head. “She really is pretty.”
“Ma? Of course she is.”
Royce’s mouth settled in a flat line. “Of course she is,” he echoed. “But you know damn well who I meant. Sophie.”
Hayden scowled.
“I don’t know what you guys have going on, but it’s more than just Princess and Knight in Shining Armor. You need to think about that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That while you’re playing tortured, punishing yourself, it’s keeping her from having a life.”
“That hero worship will go away after she gets to know me,” Hayden muttered.
“So let her get to know you.”
“You’re right,” he nodded. “She needs to know me for who I am and maybe see more of the world. I don’t want her falling for the first guy who pays attention to her.”
“I think you’re discounting her by thinking anything of the sort. But yeah, I agree it would do her good to get out more. She works online, has her groceries delivered, doesn’t go much of anywhere. That’s not really living. You saved her life, so why not help give her a life, too?”
What Royce said was every secret thing Hayden’s own brain used against him. Spend time with her, take her out, ease her back into the world—but it was all for his own ends. All to spend more time with her, all in hopes of having another night like the one previous. Another morning like this one.
Only he knew where that would lead. He’d touch her, taste her, and she’d surrender to him because he was the hero who pulled her from the fire. She could do better than him, better than a no strings involvement with a man who couldn’t let himself love.
“You’ve got the plan, Royce. Maybe you should do it.”
“Maybe I just will.”
The very idea of Royce, or any man really, taking Sophie out, eating her lasagna, or spending the night even on her couch made him want to punch something.
What was worse was that Royce knew it. He laughed and laughed.
“I’m glad you’re amused. Wait until I take Livie out for a night on the town. See how you feel then.”
Royce didn’t miss a beat. “Livie won’t date firemen.”
“She was married to one.”
“Exactly. In fact, I’m pretty sure she’d give you a gold star for the way you’ve planned your life, but you know I think that’s bullshit.”
“Whatever, man. I’m done talking about this.”
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t need to be talked about.”
“I thought Sophie was the therapist?”
Royce shrugged. “I’m just the sensitive brother.”
Hayden rolled his eyes. “Things I require this morning. Coffee. Donut. Your mouth switched to off.”
“Can’t help you with any of those things.” Royce reached into his own truck and pulled something out of a blue box, obviously from Granny’s, Ember Lake’s best and only bakery.
And promptly crammed it in his mouth.
“Last one,” he said around a mouthful of donut.
Noah Finnegan hopped out of Hayden’s truck. “If you two are done talking about your feelings, I need to crash. Been up all night.” He grinned.
“Doing your best to keep the fire bunnies happy?” He referred to some of the women who were hero-chasers who had a thing for firemen, to put it nicely.
“Yeah, you weren’t there to take your share so I had to work double time.” Noah smirked.
“Sorry about that.” Hayden shrugged. Not that he actually helped out with that. Noah was the one who was quite the ladies’ man.
“Yeah, it was torture.” Noah’s smirk bloomed into a grin.
“Catch you later, man. Thanks for bringing my truck.” Hayden climbed in the cab.
“What, I don’t get invited to the Cole Barbeque?”
“Sure. You can bring the beer,” Hayden invited.
“You got it.” Noah got into Royce’s truck.
He pulled out of the driveway and drove home, still thinking about Sophie.
Hell, when wasn’t he thinking about Sophie? She was always on his mind. Spending time with her like this, it wasn’t helping him any.
Maybe if he saw her settled and happy he could let her go?
3
She shouldn’t have said yes.
Hayden didn’t want her to go. Not really. If he did, he would’ve asked her.
Now she was sitting in his truck, in a pretty white sundress with a fat, pink cabbage rose pattern and a demure, lightweight pink summer shell to shield her skin from the sun.
She never should’ve cut her hair.
She never should’ve said yes to this farce.
She never should’ve allowed herself to dream about Hayden Cole.
Sophie thought it was Royce who was going to pick her up, but when the truck pulled up outside, it was Hayden.
He didn’t say much on the ride over to his parents’ house and she fidgeted with her fingers in her lap, trying to find something to look at, something to say, or at least a perch where she didn’t feel like a cat that had been dunked in bathwater.
When they arrived, cars were parked all the way down the street. This wasn’t just a barbeque, it was practically a block party. She bit her lip. So. Many. People.
Her gut churned.
Sophie took a deep breath. She could do this. She wanted to do this. In fact, she wanted this, had dreamt about what it was like to be part of a perfect little family with a white picket fence—right down to the fat, happy yellow snapdragons that lined the walk.
And the Coles were
pretty close to perfect—a family of heroes.
Hayden popped from the truck and was around to open her door for her before she could blink. He reached up into the cab to help her down and his arms around her caused her breath to catch in her throat.
He was so strong and smelled so good—like safety. Like what she imagined home should smell like.
Oh, but she was a silly girl with silly ideas and fantasies. Sophie knew he was more than a fireman, more than the guy who’d saved her life. She understood that. She’d psychoanalyzed herself to tiny pieces before she’d tried to smash them all back together into some functioning semblance of a human being.
Sophie thought at first that her fixation on Hayden had been hero-worship. She would’ve told any of her clients that it was a reasonable reaction to the stress they’d experienced together. Hero-worship was a weird kind of Stockholm Syndrome—in that the hero in question had held her life in his hands and that made her dependent on him, grateful to him. It was a powerful drug.
But she saw his kindness, the way he always put others before himself, how devoted he was to his family. Yes, he wore the mantle of hero, but that was only because it fit the man underneath so well.
She realized she hadn’t let go of him, but he hadn’t let go of her either. Maybe he was just being kind and didn’t want her to fall. It wasn’t because he liked holding her. It couldn’t be that.
Could it?
“I hope you’re hungry. My dad’s been manning the smoker since last night. He got a whole pig from the meat locker.”
“Your family’s summer barbeque is kind of legendary. I brought my appetite.” She patted her flat stomach.
“My mother will try to send everything home with you that doesn’t get eaten.”
“I’ll take it.” She grinned.
He put his hand on the small of her back as she wandered into the house. She’d been here once or twice before, but never to a family function. It made this feel like a date.
Royce was in the kitchen attempting to carry a watermelon boat that had been filled with various fruits, none of which were the guts of the watermelon. “Ah, there you are. A little help?”
Sophie rushed to open the door for him, but found a platter of corn on the cob shoved into her arms.