by Nella Tyler
I rubbed my forehead, pressing the tips of my fingers into my skull as hard as I could. “I miss what we had. Or what I thought we had.”
“Maybe we can have that again,” she said.
“We didn’t have it in the first place. I only thought we did.”
“What does that mean?”
I swallowed a sigh, not wanting her to know how much this shit was still bothering me. “I can’t be with someone who won’t be faithful to me, Lacey. I just can’t.”
She made a sexy, disappointed noise, and I could clearly picture her lying in the middle of my bed in nothing but a thong. “What if we get together one more night, for old time’s sake? Just to have some fun?”
Now I could see her smiling that sly grin of hers, the one that had gotten her just about everything she wanted over the last eighteen months. She had a way about her. She was a lot more than just nice to look at. She could run right over you and have you coming back for more before you’d even healed all the way. I knew that firsthand. I’d known better than to ask her to marry me, but had done it anyway. I knew sleeping with her again would just mean falling back into her trap. I could see that clearly now, maybe only because I’d run across Sami. I didn’t want to do a goddamn thing to jeopardize our night out together.
“I could even be your date tonight since you’re stuck going stag,” she said, her voice sultrier than before. “I bought that dress for the ball, anyway. It’d be a shame to let it go to waste, wouldn’t it? And then after the ball, you could come back to my place and help me take it off again.”
I shifted on my bed, pissed that it was this easy for her to get me hard. “I don’t think so, Lacey,” I said. “I want a relationship, not just a bunch of one-night stands. The best thing for us is to have a nice clean break. You go your way and I go mine. No hard feelings — I’m over that shit now — but I just can’t do this anymore.”
She made another grumbling noise, but it was sexy, too, and just hearing it got me a little harder, which annoyed me even more. “Are you sure? We could still have so much fun together, Blaze. We could do whatever you wanted.”
“Have a happy new year, Lacey. I wish you all the best. I really do.” With that, I hung up and threw the phone behind me onto my messy, unmade bed. I expected her to call right back, but she didn’t.
I stood up, rearranged myself in my pants, and finished getting dressed, putting on my tie and pulling my jacket on. I went back to the bathroom to look myself over. I smoothed my beard and straightened my tie.
I scowled at myself, my eyebrows pulled down hard. Fucking Lacey. She didn’t even know about my plans for tonight and she’d still managed to find a way to try to ruin them. That was our relationship in a goddamned nutshell: me making plans and her fucking them up. But God forbid if I didn’t fall right in line with whatever the hell she wanted to do.
Not tonight. That shit was over and Sami was waiting for me, I told myself. I was determined to have a good time with her at this ball now more than ever. Lacey was my past. That left my future wide open. It was too early to know if Sami would play a part in it, but I knew for damned sure my ex-fiancée wouldn’t.
I looked once more into the mirror, pleased with what I saw and sure Sami would be pleased, too, before I strode through my bedroom, grabbed my keys from the side table in the living room, and left my apartment whistling a song I hadn’t been able to get out of my head since the day before. Tonight was going to be a great night.
Chapter Eight – Sami –New Year’s Eve
Lisa and Amy came over in the afternoon to help me get ready. Amy struggled to get my hair to cooperate with a particularly tricky up do I’d found on Pinterest, and then they fought over who got to put on my makeup. We finally agreed that Lisa could handle my eyes and powder, while Amy could do my lips and fingernails. She’d gone through a cosmetology program in high school, but ended up bailing on that career path to go to college. So, she was all about doing hair and nails, just not for a living.
At the end of their ministrations, I looked stunning. I was taken aback just staring at myself in the mirror, even clad in the ratty robe I’d been wearing all day. I knew I was attractive, but this was an entirely new level of drop dead gorgeous formerly unachieved by little old modest me.
Blaze had messaged that morning saying he’d be by at six. The girls left at five, giving me plenty of time for a mini freak out.
Once that was done, I stripped off my robe, spritzed on some perfume, and put on a matching bra and thong set. Not that I was going to let Blaze see any of this tonight. My dress was going to stay on, thank you very much. But it made me feel better to have on a sexy set of underclothes, like I had a secret no one else knew about. I pulled stockings on next, relishing how they felt moving over my hairless legs. I cut shaving down to once a week in the winter, and even though this threw me off schedule — I’d just shaved three days ago — I’d wanted my legs to be silky soft for tonight and so had taken my razor to them in the shower that morning. Again, not like I was going to let Blaze run his big strong hands up and down my legs to appreciate how soft they were.
This was all for me. The nicer I felt, the more comfortable I was likely to be tonight. I just needed to calm down enough to act natural. I’d been on dates before. Maybe not with someone like Blaze, but this wasn’t my first rodeo.
I dropped my blue dress carefully over my head, not wanting to muss up my hair, and then pulled it down past my breasts and hips. The skirt reached to just above the knee. I liked this dress because it toed the line between appropriate and sexy. I turned every which way in front of the full-length mirror at the back of my tiny walk-in closet, straining my neck to see the dress from all angles, just checking to make sure it looked as great as I remembered.
The girls had made me try it on this morning before stripping it off me and shoving me to the bathroom to shower. If it passed their sharp-eyed inspection, I knew it looked good. We didn’t fuck around about clothes. Each of us would give the other an honest opinion about an outfit without worrying about the criticism being taken personally. We’d rather that than risk stepping out in something that made us look dumpy or like we were trying too hard.
The doorbell rang, launching my heart up into my throat. I stared at myself in the mirror another long moment, blinking my wide, made up eyes and pressing my lips into a tight red line. My makeup was dramatic and flawless, my dress a mix of sexy elegance, my hair pulled up at the back of my head, leaving my long neck exposed. I’d put on dangly diamond earrings and a matching necklace, both Christmas gifts from Mom, who must’ve felt more than a little guilty about ditching me to go cruising with her bunco buddies. I looked damned good. He was lucky to have me on his arm. I grinned at myself nervously.
The doorbell rang a second time.
“Shit,” I muttered. I imagined Lisa and Amy’s disappointed faces when I told them how I’d been so busy gawking at how great I looked that I neglected to answer the door when Blaze arrived and, therefore, completely missed the big date.
I stuck my feet into the heels the three of us had decided on — these actually belonged to Lisa, so they were an inch or two higher than what I was used to — and ran out to the front of my apartment on the balls of my feet, moving awkwardly in the new shoes. I just prayed I didn’t end up on my ass at some point tonight. I should have worn my own damned shoes, but these, sparkly and silver to match my white gold jewelry, were amazing. Lisa had all the best stuff.
I forced the harried expression on my face into a confident smile and pulled the door open, revealing my waiting firefighter. I drew in a deep breath at the sight of him, my forced smile widening into a real one.
He’d chosen a dark navy blue suit that nearly looked black in the diminishing evening light, a crisp white shirt, and a black tie. His auburn hair was pushed back from his forehead, the rogue curls I’d seen before now tamed with gel and a comb. He’d trimmed his beard, too; it was closer to his jaw line and looked reddish gold in the light fro
m my apartment. His wide green eyes were as gorgeous as the rest of him and looked as pleased by the sight of me as I was by the sight of him. He was like the best Christmas present under the tree, the one your parents made you wait to open last. Had I asked the universe for a man for Christmas? Maybe not out loud, but…
“You look beautiful,” he said, and it was very serious. He wasn’t even smiling. And here I was unable to stop.
“You don’t look too bad yourself,” I said, still grinning at how well he cleaned up. I wanted to snap a picture of him and send it to Lisa and Amy, but that seemed more like something a fifteen year old would do than a woman nearly in her thirties. I felt like a teenager, though, staring up into his pretty green eyes. “I have to get my coat. Would you like to come in for a second?”
“Sure.”
I stepped aside to let him in. He ducked through my door and straightened up again once he was inside. He hovered in the small open foyer, looking over at the charred place in the corner where my poor little tree had been.
“I see you got the area cleaned up,” he remarked.
“It’s getting there,” I said and crossed the room to pick up the black wool coat I’d left draped over the back of my armchair. My purse was balanced on top of it. I’d put out gloves, too, but I didn’t think that would be necessary. We would dash from my house to his car and then from his car to the venue. I didn’t expect to spend much time outside, and the weather was mild tonight, anyway. It didn’t feel like the middle of winter.
Blaze came over to help me into my jacket like a perfect gentleman. He smelled amazing, spicy and masculine. I’d never smelled cologne quite like it. I wanted to collapse into that smell and just stay there all night. I wondered if there would be dancing at this ball. I hoped so, though I didn’t know how to do much more than shuffle my feet while I swayed from side to side — I planned to jump at the chance of having our bodies pressed close, even if the thought of his big hands on me made me a little lightheaded.
I picked up my clutch purse and tucked it under one arm.
“Ready?” he asked, lifting an auburn eyebrow. He really didn’t have any freckles at all, just creamy skin and the biggest, greenest eyes I’d ever seen on a man or woman. Those eyes were made even more striking by the dark auburn lashes that surrounded them. Once you looked into them, it was hard to look away.
“Yes,” I said, smiling while simultaneously cursing myself out in my head for being a moony idiot. I could stare at him all night. I wondered if he was as taken with me as I was with him. God, I hoped so.
I locked up my apartment when we stepped out onto the small cement porch. I looked to the street — my burned out tree had been picked up a few days before and was no longer on the curb. There were a few cars parked up and down the small block, but none seemed quite right.
“Which one are you?” I asked.
He pointed to a large pickup truck that was parked right on the curb, slightly to the left of my place. It was cherry red, just like the fire engine that had delivered him to me on Christmas day. I grinned up at him. Dressed the way he was, I expected something suave, like a Mercedes or a BMW, but this worked, too. I actually liked it much more than I would’ve a sports car with smooth lines and a roaring engine. This suited him better somehow.
He helped me step up into the passenger side — it was the first time our hands had touched tonight, and his was very warm in the cool weather — and closed the door behind me. He went around the front of the truck and climbed into the driver’s side. The truck roared to life, as impressive as any sports car. My heart skipped a few beats when he grinned over at me. I prayed I didn’t look as nervous as I felt. I was excited to be out with him, but I couldn’t shake the worries about hardly knowing him.
“Here we go,” he said, pulling away from the curb.
I unclenched my spine and relaxed into my seat. It was too late to turn back now. There was comfort in that.
“So, where are we going?” I asked. “It occurred to me that I never asked you before.”
He smiled, keeping his emerald eyes on the road. “The party’s always in a rented ballroom downtown.”
“Does that mean there’s dancing?” I was excited and terrified by the prospect. Anything that put us closer than we were now was cause for both celebration and nervous bouts of nausea.
I was in terror of what might happen at the end of the date. I’d been thinking of balancing on my tiptoes to press my lips against his since the night of the fire. But just the smell of him was mixing things up in my head. I had to remind myself that I’d been on dates before, had even been in long term relationships. But this felt different. It had something to do with seeing him at the bar that night and then him turning up at my house. It meant something. It had to.
“There is.” He shot me a charming smile. “But we don’t have to dance unless you want to.”
I bit my lip to keep from telling him that anything that got his hands on me was good. I needed to move on to a less steamy subject. Now.
“Tell me about being a fireman.” The only way I could keep my nervous fidgeting under control was by running my mouth. The silence was killing me. “That must be pretty exciting.”
He chuckled, flashing me that amazing grin. His white teeth were perfectly straight. I pictured him as a gangly teenager with a mouthful of braces. That helped put things in perspective. Everyone went through an awkward period…some of us were still in it, which was a little unfair.
“It’s not as exciting as you might think,” he replied. “I mean, when we get a call, we rush out like you see in the movies, and save the day.” His smile cranked up high enough to light the cab of his truck. “But, most of the time, we’re just sitting around the station working out or cooking.”
I smiled again. “You cook?”
“Oh, yeah. We all do. You can have one hell of a meal at a fire station.”
I tucked that fun tidbit away for later.
“What do you do for a living?” he asked.
“I’m a realtor. It’s not quite as thrilling as being a fireman, I’m sure.”
He glanced over at me, his eyes drinking up the shadows in the cab of his truck before he returned his gaze to the road. “You’re still helping people. Any job that does that is important.”
I’d never thought of it that way before. I loved what I did, even despite potential clients as difficult as the Davidsons had been, and it really did feel important when you matched the right people with the right property.
We kept chatting for the rest of the drive, the conversation coming easier the more we talked. By the time we pulled up to the venue, I no longer felt like we were strangers. There was a valet station set up out front that Blaze drove right past.
“I don’t like anyone else driving my truck,” he said with a wry twist of his lips when I shot him a questioning glance. We parked in a lot close to the entrance. While I waited for him to come around to my side of the truck, I thought about seeing him that night at the bar, how stunning I’d found him, even as he brooded and knocked back shots, completely closed off to the world around him. I’d watched him until he stumbled out of the bar a few hours later, clearly wasted. I considered telling him about that so we could laugh at the coincidence.
But as soon as he opened the door and held out a hand to help me down to the asphalt, I decided against it. Why ruin tonight with a story that made me look like a creepy stalker? We were out together. That was the important thing.
I accepted his hand and stepped down from the truck, feeling glamorous and alive as the chilly air hit me full force in the face.
Chapter Nine – Blaze – The New Year’s Eve Ball
I offered Sami my arm and she took it, holding on with both hands like we were about to go on a wild ride. Shit, maybe we were. I couldn’t stop sneaking sideways glances at her. She’d nearly knocked me flat when she opened her apartment door and I saw how great she looked, so sexy I wanted to lean in and kiss her then and there. I could s
ee she was nervous, which made her even sexier. The blue dress hugged her curves and was cut low enough to show off an impressive view of her breasts without putting them on full display.
I’d almost tried to kiss her in the truck when we were staring at each other after we parked. I didn’t know what the fuck had come over me. This woman was doing something to me that had never been done before. I had to remind myself not to scare her off by being too aggressive. I wanted to have a good time tonight and get to know her better. That other shit could wait. Not to mention Lacey and I just broke up. I needed to keep my dick in my pants until my head was clear from all of that.
The party was already in full swing, with people clumped together near the bar and sitting at tables, when we walked in together. I could see Hector on the dance floor already with his wife, the two of them giggling like kids as he spun her in practiced circles. I had to smile watching them. Johnny was here somewhere, probably getting well and truly wasted. He’d asked a girl he’d just met to come with him, some knockout he’d run into in a coffee shop.
Not that I could rib him too hard about that, considering I’d only met my date a week ago, and on a call. I still wasn’t living that down at the station. The guys had dubbed me Lieutenant Romeo, saving lives and dropping panties. Shit. That got me thinking about what Sami had on under that stunning dress.
There were one or two other guys here from the station, but a most of them were on duty tonight. I had to go in tomorrow to kick off another 48 hour shift, so I didn’t want to be out too late tonight. Unless Sami invited me in when I drove her home at the end of the ball. If she asked me in, there was no way in hell I’d say no.
As soon as the guys caught sight of me, they came rushing over, waving as they threaded through the crowd. We’d been talking about Sami all week at the station. They hadn’t really talked to her the night of the fire, though Johnny had expressed his enthusiastic — almost too enthusiastic — approval of her good looks and tight little body.