by Kim Loraine
“I did. Well, me and Alex. We had to carry her kicking and screaming. But it’s not just this. I told you she’s been forgetting things for a long time, calling me my dad’s name, getting frustrated and irritated easier than usual.”
“Did you tell her doctor this?”
He closed his eyes and let the feel of her fingers in his hair take him somewhere that didn’t have his mother in the hospital and one of his crew as an arsonist.
“Carson?” she asked.
“They’ve started the referral process already. The doc said it’s likely Alzheimer’s. He placed her in a memory care facility for her own safety at this point, but he anticipates she’ll need round the clock care.”
Her hand stilled in his hair momentarily, but she started again as soon as his shoulders tensed. “I’m so sorry. How can I help?”
A smile tugged at his lips. She hadn’t changed. Sloan was still caring and sweet, beautiful and perfect. She always wanted to help if she could. “Just . . . stay. We can be us, for tonight. No baggage, no hurt, no fires to put out. I want to be yours and I want you to be mine.”
She took a soft breath and leaned close, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Okay. Tonight, I’m yours. But tomorrow we move forward.”
“What?” The word caught in his throat.
“We’re no good together if we keep living in our past. We make stupid choices. You love the girl I was, not who I am now. I’ve been through too much . . . lost too much. I’m not the same.”
He didn’t know how to get her to stop making excuses. All she had to do was give them a chance, but she kept pushing him away. “We both lost everything when you left. Everything. I can’t go back and change it. Don’t let the hurt from the past keep us from having something now.”
She stood and walked away, pacing the floor in front of him. Then she crossed her arms around her middle in a protective gesture he knew well. He’d done this to her by not letting go of their past. Now it was time to make her see they could move forward just like she wanted.
In three strides he took her into his arms and kissed her forehead. “I forgive you for breaking my heart. I should have forgiven you years ago, but I was too damn stubborn to do it. Can you forgive me for hurting you?”
She leaned into him, her presence like a balm to his aching chest. “I think I forgave you when you saved me from the library, I just hadn’t realized it until now.”
Sliding his fingers up her back until he cupped her head in his palm, he tilted her head and claimed her lips in a tender kiss. A kiss that said this was the beginning of something they never should have let go of.
~ ~ ~
Sloan’s eyes fluttered open as the gray light of dawn crept in through the window. Warm arms held her tight as Carson breathed slow and deep. They’d fallen asleep on the couch after he’d finally opened up. She hadn’t been able to say a damn thing after he shared all the weight he carried. His life had been anything but easy, losing his father, his brother gone overseas, in harm’s way, and a mother who needed him to provide for her. She’d only added to his stress.
Soft kisses against her shoulder sent waves of comfort through her.
“Are you awake?” Carson’s chest rumbled against her back as he pulled her tighter against him.
“I don’t want to be.”
“Neither do I.”
She wiggled out of his grasp, getting to her feet with a yawn.
“Hey, I said I didn’t want to be awake,” he grumbled.
Her fingers entwined with his and she tugged. There was no way she’d be able to make him move if he didn’t want to. “Come on. It’s still early. Let’s go to bed for a few more hours. Then we need to . . . talk about how we’re doing this.”
“You want to stay?” The hope in his voice made her chest hurt.
“I do.”
He grinned, heart-stopping and familiar. His piercing blue gaze penetrated her already weak defenses as she waited for him to stand. As he pushed to his feet, she released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. He led the way, climbing the stairs with her still holding his hand. He opened the door to his room. She frowned when he didn’t go inside, but it was cold and that bed looked warm and cozy. Dropping his hand and crossing the hardwood floor, she pulled back the comforter and burrowed under the blankets before shimmying out of her skirt under the covers. Carson stood in the doorway, hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans, expression hesitant.
“Come on,” she offered. “I’m cold and you offered.”
She patted the mattress.
“Are you sure?”
“Carson, we already completely obliterated any lines between us. I think we can handle sleeping in the same bed.”
With a cocked eyebrow, he offered a slight grin before he tugged off his shirt. Beautiful, tanned skin with dark inked designs covering his right side came into view and her mouth ran dry. Maybe she should be more concerned with having him next to her. The clink of his belt opening as he shucked his pants had her gaze traveling downward.
Cheeks burning, she averted her eyes, suddenly very interested in the blades of the ceiling fan. When the bed dipped and blankets shifted, she let herself relax and snuggled into her pillow.
“Sloan?”
Her heart raced at her name on his lips, so close, so intimate. “Carson?”
“Thank you for coming inside.”
She didn’t know how to respond so she turned on her side, facing him and focused on his pained eyes. “You’re welcome.”
He looked as though at any minute he might break, this big man, physically strong, was more fragile than she’d ever been. Her fingers traced his sharp jaw, the texture of his stubble like sandpaper. When she reached his mouth, he caught her hand in his and pulled her closer, surprising her by pressing a tender kiss to her forehead and tucking her under his chin. He smelled like heaven. A curious mix of unnamable scents, but she’d never forget. In all her life she never thought she’d get another chance with him. Her hopeless heart had never let go, but her mind had told her countless times he was gone.
Hours later she woke, expecting to see an empty bed, but he was still there, his arm carelessly thrown over his eyes, his broad chest expanding with each of his rhythmic breaths. Her gaze slid over his body and she took in the swirls of ink, the patterns which all intertwined, feeding from one image to another. The swirls weren’t meaningless, she realized, as she touched the lines of orange and red. They were flames. On his chest he’d had the firefighter emblem etched into his skin, All gave some . . . Some gave all written underneath. Down the side of his torso was a fire helmet with crossing axes enclosed in the center of an intricate Celtic cross.
He shifted under her fingers as she traced the lines along his ribs.
“What are you doing?” he murmured, his eyes still closed.
“You’ve got a lot of tattoos.”
“It’s true.”
“What do they mean?”
One eye opened as he smirked. “Aren’t they pretty obvious?” He tapped a finger to his chest. “Firefighter.” Then down to the cross. “Again.”
She lightly touched the two numbers on the outside of the helmet. “And these?”
“Badge numbers.”
Her stomach churned. Those were the two firefighters on his crew who’d died in the line of duty. His brothers in the fire service. Without giving herself a chance to overthink it, she pressed a kiss to the heated skin of his chest, right on the tattoo. She wasn’t prepared for his reaction. His arms wrapped around her, holding her against him before he took a shuddering breath and gently pushed her away.
“Did they have wives? Kids?”
He shook his head. “John . . . his story is complicated, and Klip had an ex, but they never had kids. But now, every time I look
at their pictures at the station I think about the other guys on my crew. Most of them have families. If I can’t stop this . . . I can’t keep them safe, what good am I?”
“You’re wonderful. Stronger than any man I’ve ever known. Michael was right to choose you to help investigate.”
He let out a breath, shoulders hunched as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, sure.”
He stood, his back to her, then stretched and bent to retrieve his shirt. A gasp caught in her throat at the scarring along his lower back. He’d said his injury had barely burned him, but this looked a lot worse than barely.
He didn’t see her as she continued staring and when the fabric of his dark blue GBFD shirt fell over the scars, she breathed a sigh of relief. The idea of him in danger, injured, fighting for his life, made her break out in a cold sweat. She offered a small smile when he turned and glanced over his shoulder. He was the most handsome like this. Rumpled and sleepy. She pulled the blankets higher and continued watching him dress.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Coffee.” He grinned and the light returned to his eyes. “Then if you’re lucky, I’ll take you to breakfast.”
“That sounds . . . fantastic.”
His eyes widened. “Shit, it’s Friday. Don’t you have to work?”
A laugh escaped her. “No. I’m taking a personal day. I scheduled a substitute for yesterday and today.”
“God bless you.”
Another laugh came from her, this time full and open.
She moved to toss the comforter off and get up, but he leaned over the bed and with one hand, pressed her back down against the pillow. “No way. You look too good in my bed. Stay there. I’ll bring you coffee.”
She snuggled back down and watched him walk away. The view was something to admire.
A few minutes later Carson returned with two mugs. He handed her one filled with black coffee and took a sip of his. “You’re drinking coffee?” she asked, surprised.
He grimaced. “I need the caffeine, and I’m out of cocoa.”
Amusement had her stifling a laugh. “Come on. I don’t want to watch you suffer the agony of missing out on your morning sugar fix.” She took another sip of her coffee before setting the cup on his nightstand and standing. The slight hitch of his breath behind her had Sloan turning and glancing over her shoulder. His gaze was trained on her ass and if the heat in his eyes was any indication, he liked what he saw. She’d forgotten that her skirt was crumpled on the floor and she’d just given him a front row view of her lacy white panties.
“I don’t need to go anywhere,” he murmured.
“But I thought you were hungry?”
He placed his mug on the dresser and tugged his shirt over his head. “I’m fucking starving.” With a few purposeful strides around the bed, he stood in front of her, heat blazing in his blue eyes.
“Are you sure?” she teased.
Fingers in her hair, he pulled her close and took her mouth, sending shockwaves of lust straight to her core. “I’ve never been more sure.”
He backed them up until her knees hit the bed and she sat on the mattress. His lips tasted like coffee and his skin was warm under her fingers. She wanted him so badly. “Can we do this one slow and sweet?”
“Oh, yes, baby. I want to take my time and show you exactly what you do to me.”
His lips found hers again as his palm cupped her breast through the fabric of her shirt. She wanted everything gone, no clothes between them. With a little shimmy, she squirmed out of his hold, then tore off her top and unclasped the lacy bra with lightning speed. Her breasts fell free and his gaze went straight to them.
“You are fucking beautiful.”
She had to clear her throat to hide her laugh, she said, “My eyes are up here.”
His cheeks turned pink, sending her from attraction to full-on infatuation. There he was, the boy she’d loved. Carson was still the guy she knew, he’d been shaped and molded by his circumstances, but deep down, at his core, he was the same.
This beautiful man fell to his knees and stole her heart completely when he pressed his forehead to her chest and placed a soft kiss between her breasts. It was tender, sweet, and it sent a stab of longing through her for everything they’d missed with each other.
He let out a hum of appreciation and lowered her to the bed, sliding his palm across her soft belly and down until he found her wet and needy. The sight of him smiling at her as he teased and ran the tip of his fingers over her center had her legs trembling. She was on the edge before he pushed two fingers inside. She moaned and arched her back at the sensation, loving it, but needing more. Patience non-existent, she sat up, grabbed his hand, and pulled until he chuckled and crawled over her. “I need you. All of you, not just your fingers.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were ready, baby. Slow and sweet, remember?”
Her hand trailed down his stomach until she reached the waist of his boxers, she grinned when she found his length and he sucked in a harsh breath. “We can get to the main attraction and still have slow and sweet. Don’t tease me.”
With a nod, he leaned over and opened the side table drawer. After grabbing some protection, he made quick work of opening the package and rolling on the condom. Silence fell heavy between them as they both watched him place himself at her entrance. This was different from a frenzied screw on her counter. This was done with purpose, with intention and intimacy.
He filled her slowly, eliciting a groan of part pain, part pleasure at the stretch his size caused. “You okay?” he asked, his soft gaze and concerned tone making her recall their first time under the boardwalk when he’d been just as tender with her.
She had to blink back tears at the memory, but nodded and wrapped her legs around him before burying her face in the crook of his neck. They moved together, shallow breaths, cries and moans the only sounds in the room. When he reached between them to run his fingers over the sensitive rise of her clit, she shattered into a million tiny pieces, all filled with indescribable pleasure. A call of her name fell from him as he thrust once more and found his own release.
They lay together, both breathing slow and steady as he stroked her thigh. Before she could say anything, he wrapped her in his arms and tugged her close until she rested her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating, the rumble of his hum of contentment. “We wasted too much time fighting when we really should’ve been doing this. Loving each other in the early morning light.”
Her heart flipped at those words. Loving each other. Was that what they were doing? She wasn’t sure, but she had one foot in the water already and was perilously close to letting herself fall all the way under.
Chapter 15
“Engine. Medic. Ladder. Structure fire.” Dispatch broke through Sully’s thoughts as he finished inventorying the last drawer on the side of the engine. He caught Donovan’s eye as they stood side by side and stepped into their bunker gear.
“You look like shit, Miller,” he offered, taking in the dark circles under his friend’s eyes.
Donovan ran a hand over the back of his neck and laughed before taking his place in the engine. “You know how they say having a baby isn’t easy?”
“Yeah.”
“Having a baby isn’t easy.”
Alex climbed into the driver’s seat and started the rig. “No, shit. I could have told you that. You know what’s worse?”
Donovan looked a little green. “They get worse?”
Alex laughed while he flipped on the siren and pulled out into traffic. “Toddlers. Toddlers are the absolute worst. Just wait. This time next year, you’ll be wishing for the sweet and snuggly little baby.”
All this talk of the trials of parenthood made him glad Sloan had gotten her period the week before. Her call had eased his
mind and crossed off the possibility that he’d be joining his buddies in their dad squad. He wasn’t ready for kids yet. He liked his sleep and he’d just gotten Sloan back. He didn’t want to share her with anyone yet.
Donovan pulled on his headset along with the rest of them. They all listened as dispatch relayed more information about the call. Sully’s stomach turned to stone with every word from the operator.
“The school again?” Donovan asked. “Maybe a kid pulled an alarm.”
Dread curled in his gut. “Maybe.”
It wasn’t an alarm. Smoke poured from the south end of the elementary school, the acrid billowing tower filling the air and darkening the sky. “Shit,” Donovan said when they pulled the engine into the fire lane. The medic unit and ladder truck were right behind them, along with Battalion Chief Roman’s SUV. Kids were lined up, like they’d practiced a few weeks earlier, all watching with fear stricken faces rather than excited awe as the firefighters got out of the trucks and started to work.
He spared a fleeting glance at the lines of teachers, his heart lifting when he saw Sloan standing in front of her class. She offered him a slight wave and her expression was filled with pride but her eyes were clouded with worry. He kept that gesture in his mind, he turned away and headed toward the principal.
“Everyone accounted for?” he asked the woman.
She shook her head. “We’ve got a teacher trapped and student missing. The teacher’s name is Beckett Matthews.” Sully’s gut tightened. He may not have warm fuzzies about Beckett, but the guy was Sloan’s friend. The principal continued, her voice rising in pitch as nerves took hold. “He was in the workroom. I told him we didn’t have anyone who could make his copies for him.” He could see the panic building in her. Hear it in her words as the guilt seeped in and took hold. “And Sophie . . . she’s in kindergarten. Her teacher said she was in the bathroom when the alarm went off. We’ve only had one fire drill. She hasn’t practiced enough.”