Through The Window

by Wendy Campbell

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you do your job with a broken leg?”

  “I’ll risk it.” He pulled her to her feet and led her to the dance floor.

  Their bodies touched, his arms came around her, and nothing else mattered. Her hands slid up his chest and wound around his neck. She could feel the slow, steady beat of his heart

  With a sigh, she wove her fingers through his hair, loving the feel of the smooth strands. Heat and desire coursed through her, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to reach up and kiss him. Electricity shot right down to her toes. She’d never wanted anything more than she wanted Jordan. Slowly, he leaned back until their lips were close, but no longer touching.

  “I think the music ended,” he whispered.

  “What music?”

  He chuckled, put an arm around her shoulder, and they walked back to their table. They chatted about nothing as she finished her drink, but she passed on a second one. She didn’t want to spend the rest of the evening giggling and making passes at Jordan. Okay, she did want to make a pass at him, but she could do without the giggling. For the next hour, they danced, kissed, and talked. By the time they left, he had to know she was heterosexual.

  If not, the necking they did in his truck when they got back to the cabin should have done it. Somehow, she ended up in his lap with her legs draped over the consol. The heat from his body seeped through her clothes, and she could feel his muscles tensing.

  “Want to come in?” she asked in a husky voice. Then she remembered that Mick might be passed out on her couch right now. “Let’s go to your place.” She brushed kisses along his jaw. “I’d love to see it.”

  “We’re already here.” His hand slid under her shirt, started to roam.

  “Your place is better.” She could barely talk around the fires he ignited in her. “There won’t be anybody there.”

  He lifted his head. “Do you have company?”

  She forced her body to relax against him. “Just the puppy. She might get in the way.”

  “We’ll close the door.” His fingers found her nipple through her bra. A moan slid from her lips, and she forgot everything but Jordan.

  “I’ve never made out in a car before,” she said, still a bit dizzy as they came up for air.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.” She tickled his ear with her tongue.

  “You never parked? Not once?”

  “You were the only one I wanted to kiss.” When she kissed him, he didn’t kiss her back. He pulled back and she could see the wariness in his eyes even in the dim light from the porch that was filtering through the windshield.

  She forced a chuckle. “I have kissed other men since then, of course.”

  “I see.” He took a slow, deep breath. “Melanie, there’s something you need to know.”

  Thoughts flashed through her mind. He had a disease. He was secretly married with three kids. He didn’t like the way she kissed. He knew she’d been a burglar. He knew about Mick. The images kept coming and she couldn’t speak.

  “You’re attractive, smart and sexy. Your curves drive me crazy. I want to spend time with you and, oh God, I really want to have sex with you. How could I not? But I don’t make commitments.”

  Relief flooded through her. Her past was safe. “That’s okay. I understand.”

  “Women—some women—try to change a man, or make him change his mind. It doesn’t work. I believe in fidelity when I’m with a woman, but I won’t make a commitment beyond that. One woman I was involved with already had the wedding planned and I didn’t even know about it. She even bought a damn dress.” He shuddered. “Ending it was horrible. I’ll never do that again.”

  Finally, his words penetrated. Sadness and a jolt of pain ran through her. When she was a teenager, she’d been in love with Jordan, the boy. She had a few fantasies that included a wedding dress, and the dress coming off. While she knew very little about the man he’d become, she knew who she was. A retired thief. A woman trying to keep free of her father’s control, a woman who knew the best places to hide money included a nonfat yogurt container in the fridge or inside a box of tampons, but she knew nothing about love and commitment. Now she never would. Hoping she could bury the pain deep enough that Jordan couldn’t see it, she put on a saucy smile and touched his cheek.

  “Since we’re baring our souls, you should know that if we do have sex, it will be something in the way of an experiment.”

  When he frowned, she smiled.

  “What kind of experiment?” His gruff undertone told her she’d caught him off guard.

  “I admit I fantasized about you when I was teenager.” He already knew that. “After seeing you again, I remembered every one of them. If we have sex, I’ll get the chance to see if you measure up.” She caught the flare of challenge, the imagined slight to his masculine pride in his eyes. That should give him something to think about. She ran her tongue over her top lip. “So, are you up for a little experiment?”

  He looked at her, his expression indecipherable. After a long minute, he slid her off his lap, got out of the truck, and walked around the hood.

  When her door opened, a strong hand reached in, grabbed her arm, and pulled her out of the truck. He took her in his arms and kissed her, his lips sliding back and forth until her mouth opened. In an automatic response, her tongue met his, and the kiss went deeper, hotter.

  Needing to feel skin, she slid her hands under his shirt, up his chest. His muscles rippled in response. Now his steady heartbeat sprinted.

  As his mouth skimmed Mel’s jaw and her neck, she could feel his hardness against her. He cupped her breast, and she leaned her head back and sucked in air. She was on fire. If something didn’t happen soon, she’d have to—his pager beeped.

  They moved back, both panting. He grimaced, took the pager from his belt, and looked at the display. “Sorry. I’m on call. I’ve got to go.”

  A kind of frenzied desperation washed over her. She’d wanted him for so long. With a sinking feeling, she figured if they didn’t go all the way now, they never would. She’d spend her life wondering what sex with Jordan would have been like, and saying “if only.” A quickie was definitely better than nothing. “Five minutes,” she whispered, trailing her lips up his neck, nibbling on his ear.

  “I’m sorry.” He sounded like he meant it.

  “Can’t they wait?”

  “Fires don’t wait, and five minutes isn’t nearly enough time for all the things I want to do with you. When we make love, when we experiment, it’ll take all night. I promise.” He gave her a quick, sizzling kiss. “I’ll call you.”

  The truck’s taillights disappeared as he drove away. Had she actually suggested having sex in five minutes?

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Auntie Mel, Auntie Mel.”

  Mel looked up to see Carley and her dark-haired friend running through the store. She smiled at them and turned back to the middle-aged man with the substantial paunch.

  “This is one of our most popular styles.” Mel picked up an extra-large raincoat. “It comes in royal blue and forest green. Try it on, and I’ll be back to see if you have questions.”

  Carley flew into her arms. For the first time, Mel realized how close they were in size. With a few more inches, Carley would match her in height. She hadn’t noticed that before and remembered that Carley rarely sat still, especially at family gatherings.

  “Auntie Mel, please say yes. Please?” Carley asked in a wheedling voice.

  “Absolutely not.” Somehow Mel managed to keep a straight face.

  “You don’t even know what it is.”

  “My stock answer is always no. Who’s this?” She nodded toward Carley’s friend.

  “Justine. We have the greatest idea. Will you help?” Carley tried a puppy-dog expression.

  “Good try, but I’m immune to cuteness. Give me the details.”

  Carley looked both wa
ys, grabbed Mel’s hand, and pulled her behind a rack of fleece jackets. Then her words tumbled out. “My birthday party. I get to have a Fear Factor party. Like the old TV show. Then I can invite boys and make them eat bugs and stuff. Mom said it’d be okay, if you helped. She said you’re the best at stuff like that, and you used to do all sorts of things you weren’t supposed to.”

  Mel needed to have a long talk with Sara about keeping her mouth shut. “What about Uncle Alex? He’s even better than me.”

  “Gross. He’s a boy.” Carley and Emily did simultaneous “Eeeewe’s.”

  Mel grinned. “Yep. Boys are gross. When’s the party?”

  “In three weeks. Say you’ll do it. Please?”

  Mel ruffled Carley’s hair and smiled. “You know, if you want the boys to eat bugs, you’ll have to eat them too.”

  Both girls pantomimed a finger down the throat. “Gag,” Carley said. “No way. We figure the boys will eat them all because they’ll have to go first. Or they’ll run away and we get to laugh at them. That’s the best part.”

  “Okay. Count me in, but you’re in charge of finding slimy, non-poisonous bugs.”

  “Deal. Thanks.” Carley gave her a hug and both girls ran out of the store.

  Mel watched them go, wondering how to make sure the bugs wouldn’t be poisonous. Or real. A low chuckle came from behind, and she whirled in surprise. Jordan stood in the aisle, wearing his dark blue uniform.

  “Boys are gross, huh?” he asked.

  “You bet. They only get interesting when they turn into men.”

  He rubbed a hand up and down her arm. His male scent made her toes tingle in anticipation. “Why don’t you come visit me at the station when you’re done here?”

  “And spend my free time with a gross boy?” She grinned. “Sure. I’m off at five.”

  “I’ll leave the back door open, in case we get toned out.”

  “Toned out?”

  “Fire department speak for going on a call. Sundays are usually light, so if we’re not there we should be back soon. If it’s something big, you’ll hear the dispatcher on the speakers. We’re Engine 2.”

  She waved as he left. When she saw the older man trying to stuff himself into a large neon green raincoat from the teen rack, she bit back a laugh and gave him a professional smile.

  “I have a nice forest green one in your size,” she said, ushering him toward the adult section.

  ****

  At five-fifteen, Mel rode her bike to the fire station on Maple Street. There were two fire stations in Cedar Valley and he worked at the closest one. She leaned her bike against the concrete block wall in the back. The door was ajar, so she opened it and stuck her head in. A red fire engine and a smaller aid car were parked in the big garage, but she didn’t see anyone.

  She yelled out a hello, but no one answered, so she went in. The garage was huge, at least two and half stories high and spotless. The floor looked as shiny as the fire engine. Three closed doors were on her left, and just past them, a long flight of stairs led to a second floor landing and another closed door. She reached for the knob on the first door and stopped. What if she walked in on men changing clothes? Goggling at nearly naked men wouldn’t leave the best impression.

  The door at the top of the stairs swung open. A small, red haired boy who looked to be about sixteen trotted out. He wore a uniform. A resident, she thought, remembering Jordan’s stories.

  “Looking for someone?”

  “Jordan Stone.”

  “He’s around.” The boy trotted down the steps and opened a door. He was halfway through when she realized he wasn’t going to show her where.

  “Wait,” she said, and he turned. “I’m not sure where to look.”

  “Are you the new one?” He grinned.

  “The new what?”

  “Jordan’s new girlfriend.”

  “I’m not his girlfriend,” she said automatically, but it stayed with her. Jordan’s girlfriend. Mel and Jordan. Jordan and Melanie. A couple.

  “Haylee will be glad to hear it.”

  “Who’s Haylee?”

  He flushed. “She’s just a girl that hangs around sometimes. I think he’s in there.” After a quick nod at the first door the boy disappeared.

  Was Jordan seeing someone else? He’d talked about fidelity, and she believed him. She opened the first door, heard a sports program on the radio and followed the noise into a short hall. Two open doors on the right led to bathrooms. The door on the left opened into a small gym. Three men were working out—sweaty, muscular men in shorts and T-shirts—and she could see the legs of a fourth on the far side of a weight machine. Since she didn’t recognize any of the men, she assumed the legs must belong to Jordan. She hesitated, unsure if she should venture into their domain.

  “Hey.” The blonde man with a crew cut slowed the treadmill to a walk and smiled. “Looking for someone?”

  “Jordan.”

  “Hey, Stone,” the man bellowed. “Your girlfriend’s here.” A grunt came from the direction of the weight machine.

  “I think he’s busy.” The man winked at her and stopped the treadmill. “I’m John Tanner.” He turned down the radio and wiped his hands with a towel before he shook her hand. “How about I show you around? I’ll spring for a soda and let you see the pictures of my niece. You won’t believe what a cute baby she is.”

  She hesitated.

  With a conspiratorial smile, he wiggled his eyebrows at the other grinning men “What’s your name?”

  “Mel—”

  A loud clang came from the weight machine, and the other men burst into laughter. Jordan appeared, positively radiating animal magnetism despite the scowl. He wiped sweat off his forehead with a towel. His dark hair was damp and curling at the ends. The white T-shirt revealed just enough to make her mouth water.

  “Hi.” Jordan smiled. He gave the others a warning glance and led her from the room.

  “Am I interrupting?” she asked.

  “Not at all. I’m glad you could make it. Mind if I take a quick shower?”

  “I’ll come back.” She started for the exit while her favorite fantasy, including Jordan and a shower, popped into her mind, but he took her hand.

  “It’ll only take a few minutes.” She followed him up the stairs and into a big, open room. On one side, recliners were set in a half circle in front of a television. Three large tables separated them from a kitchen area.

  “Make yourself comfortable. Want something to drink?”

  “Water. Thanks.”

  He handed her a glass and touched her arm. “I’ll be right back. If Tanner comes in, don’t buy the story about his niece. He doesn’t have one.”

  ****

  Jordan set a speed record for showering. He’d invited Mel on impulse and hadn’t thought about the ramifications. Now the rumors would fly, like always, but he didn’t want the guys giving her a hard time. He would have passed on the shower, but he smelled like a locker room, and he didn’t want to turn her off. Definitely not.

  He was half-way into his uniform when he heard the men talking. Relief that Tanner, their most recent hire, wasn’t hitting on Mel allowed him to slow to a normal pace. Tanner was a great guy, could turn the engine on a dime and park the rig between two cars with less than an inch on each side. In six seconds. Tanner had the muscle and wit to pull any of them out of a bad situation, but the guy was a chick magnet. And cocky as hell. He put the moves on any female who walked in. By the time Jordan made it back to the kitchen, Melanie was browsing through the newspaper. Alone.

  “Do you want me to show you around?” he asked as the others came in.

  “Hey,” Tanner said, “You sticking around for dinner? Standish is making lasagna.”

  She gave Jordan an inquiring look.

  “Do you have other plans?”

  “No.”

  “I’d like you to stay, but these guys tend to forget a lady’s around. They’ll probably be rude and obnoxious.”

 
She grinned. “I haven’t seen Alex for a few days. I’m running low on sarcasm.”

  Resisting the urge to hug her, and then some, he gave her a tour of the station. Afterward, they sat at the table with everyone except Standish, who started dinner. Jordan was damn glad it wasn’t his night to cook. He sat next to her and listened while the others pried for information. While she explained how she found the puppy, he heard the downstairs door open and close. He had a sudden image of Roger coming up the stairs. All the local cops stopped by to shoot the breeze or grab a bite to eat. His brother would flip if he saw Mel. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Sexual frustration must be screwing up his head.

  He got to his feet, hoping to head off the potential disaster, and the tones sounded.

  “Engine 2, Aid Unit 5,” the dispatcher said. “Multi-car accident, eastbound interstate 90 at exit 31B. Injuries reported.”

  “That’s us,” Tanner said. The men got to their feet.

  “We’ve got to go,” Jordan said, heading toward the door with the others. “If we’re not back in half an hour, don’t wait around.” Melanie looked curious, but not worried like some women got when the tones went off. He headed for the rig, knowing if Roger was here, he’d be back in his patrol car and heading to the call. And since Roger would have to stick around until the accident was cleared, Jordan would beat him back.

  ****

  Melanie followed them out the door and watched from the landing. The big garage doors were going up, and Jordan and Tanner were putting on bunker gear. Jordan slipped the overall straps over his shoulders and picked up a helmet with a bundled yellow coat held in by the strap.

  He paused just long enough to grab paper spilling out of a printer. With a quick smile and wave, he climbed in the driver’s seat of the engine, buckled his seatbelt and put on a pair of headphones. Red lights flashed, and the siren started as he pulled out, followed by the Aid Car. A long black hose about four inches in diameter snapped back into the station behind them. Pulleys held it off the floor and she remembered Jordan telling her it kept the exhaust out of the building.