The Firefighter's Perfect Plan (Fire and Sparks)

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The Firefighter's Perfect Plan (Fire and Sparks) Page 5

by Weiss, Sonya


  Chapter Six

  “Josie doesn’t like commitment,” Josie muttered as she searched her spare bedroom for the gift-wrapping paper. She’d been ambushed last night by a visit from Lincoln’s mom and grandmother. The latter had given her a book on repairing relationships, with the chapter on being afraid of commitment highlighted in the table of contents.

  She’d had to sit there and play along while both women had sung Lincoln’s praises. What a great guy he was. How ready for a family he was. She wouldn’t find a better man. He was loving, giving, and full of compassion. He was full of something all right, but compassion wouldn’t be her first word choice. She had no doubt he’d said what he had because she’d given her blessing to go for it. But good grief he’d put her on the hot seat.

  Josie paused and shoved her hair away from her eyes, then checked the closet.

  She located the roll of paper tucked away in the back and spread it out across the floor. Lincoln was going to be here in less than ten minutes to pick her up for his grandmother’s birthday party and she still wasn’t even dressed. She went to look for the scissors and tape, but when the doorbell rang, she changed course to the living room.

  Lincoln was early and he had flowers. Not that the bright bouquet of wildflowers was going to save him. “I can’t believe you threw the word commitment at them.” She glared at him.

  He grinned and passed her the flowers, not an ounce of repentance in sight. “We talked about making stuff up, remember?”

  “We did, but you ended up coming across like Mr. Perfect while I sounded like the world’s biggest commitment flake.”

  “Face it, babe, my story was pretty good.”

  “It was,” Josie grumbled, stomping down the butterflies she got from him calling her babe. “Your mother made it sound as if you could single-handedly save the world while I— You brought me flowers.” She looked from them up to him as his action sank in completely. “I don’t understand. You don’t have to pretend when we’re alone.”

  His grin disappeared. “Your parents are in town and I know how hard it is for you to deal with some of the issues your mother stirs up.”

  “You’ve never given me flowers.”

  “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean anything by it.” He lifted his hand to reach for them.

  Josie clutched the flowers to her chest, her heart swelling with an emotion she couldn’t define. “No, it’s okay. It’s a nice gesture.” In his black dress pants and white button-down shirt, Lincoln was as handsome as ever. If things had been different, if they’d been different, this could have been a real date. But that ship was so gone. She was a throw-her-arms-open-and-welcome-love-in kind of girl. He was a barricade-himself-in-a-room-against-it-like-zombies-were-on-the-hunt kind of guy. It was strange to her that two people who’d grown up together, and who’d once held similar views on love, could end up on opposing sides of it.

  Lincoln made a point of looking at his phone. “C’mon, we’ll be late.”

  “I’ll put these in water, then I have to change.”

  “Why?” His gaze swept over her. “You look fine.”

  “Yeah, okay.” She was around-the-house fine, not go-to-a-party fine. Josie put the flowers in a vase and filled it with water before speed walking to her bedroom to look through her dresses.

  The Bradford family always had good food at every celebration and she wanted to wear clothes that gave her a little expansion room when her stomach was full. Despite her mother’s often cutting remarks about her appearance, Josie ate what she wanted to and didn’t stress over her curves.

  She pulled off the faded galaxy print leggings and long T-shirt she had on and tossed them onto the end of her bed.

  “What do you want to say when we get there and someone inevitably asks how we’re doing?” Lincoln’s deep voice filtered through the door as Josie took her favorite red dress from the hanger.

  “We can tell them that— Wait a second…” Josie worked the dress over her head and wiggled into it, then smoothed it down her hips. She reached behind her for the zipper but couldn’t quite reach. She squirmed, wishing she was just a tiny bit more flexible, before giving up. She spun around to open the door. Presenting her back to Lincoln, she swept her hair to one side and said, “Zip me.”

  Her breath hitched when the back of his fingers brushed against her bare skin. That zipper went up slowly, like it was traveling through thick maple syrup and Lincoln’s touch was just as sweet.

  “One more thing,” she said, embarrassed that her voice sounded like she’d suddenly caught a cold. Getting too close to Lincoln could sometimes make her feel like a band tightened around her throat. Picking up a necklace from her dresser, she held it out to him.

  He took it and fastened it around her neck, the graze of his fingers leaving goose bumps. Too close to her ear, he said, “We can tell them what?”

  Her breasts rose and fell rapidly as she fought to remember what the hell she’d planned to say. “We, um…we say…” She turned slowly to find that Lincoln hadn’t taken a step away like she’d assumed he would.

  He put his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her dress, then let out a low, appreciative whistle. “Josie Moore, you are without a doubt the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.”

  She knew that wasn’t true, but she knew the reason he said it. When she was a teenager, after a day of her mother picking her apart and ending with telling Josie that she could benefit from plastic surgery, Josie had gone to Casey’s house. She’d intended to pour her heart out to her best friend, but only Lincoln had been home, and unable to keep the hurt in, she told him instead. He’d pulled her into a hug and said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know your mother was blind. Some people can’t see the truth even if it wrapped itself around their face like an octopus.”

  Josie had laughed through the gathering tears and after that day, Lincoln had become the guy by which she’d measured all the others in her life. They’d ended up as flat as pancakes in comparison. Knowing her parents were in town, Lincoln was just trying to help shore her up. She blinked rapidly. If she cried, she’d have to redo her makeup.

  Lincoln made a soft noise. “Don’t cry, Josie. If you show up with a red nose and puffy eyes, my family might think I was responsible and then I won’t be Mr. Perfect. And I like being him better than Mr. You Screwed Up.”

  She laughed and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “I’m not going to cry.” She cleared her throat and made herself look away. “I need to finish wrapping Jean’s gift and then load my equipment. We can start work on the video after the party, but we should probably take my car since it’ll be easier to get my stuff in the trunk.”

  “Okay. You finish the gift and I’ll take care of your stuff.”

  “Keys are in my purse.” She paused on her way to the other bedroom. “You’re not a half bad boyfriend, Mr. Perfect.”

  “I know, right? I amaze myself sometimes.”

  “Go.” She waved him off as the treacherous thought of what if her Big Fat Lie was truth instead of make-believe flitted through her mind. What would it be like to be Lincoln’s real girlfriend?

  …

  Lincoln was glad for the chance to get out of Josie’s house. It had taken all his willpower not to pull the zipper in the other direction, and that had shaken him to his core.

  After he loaded Josie’s equipment, he leaned against her car rather than go back inside where all the danger resided. The way that red dress hugged every curve made him want to put his hands on them, and that would be as smart as trying to put out a four-alarm fire with a squirt gun. He wouldn’t be able to escape the regret that followed if he touched Josie. If he kissed her. If he… What the hell am I thinking?

  Lincoln pushed himself away from the car, glad to see Josie navigating her way down her front porch steps toward him. But not glad to notice how long and sexy her legs looked in her high heels.

  He took the festively wrapped box from her hands and stuck it in the bac
k seat, then walked around to the passenger side and climbed in as she got in the driver’s seat. As he was putting his seatbelt on, the scent of her perfume floated into his personal space and he glanced at her. From his viewpoint, he could see the gentle swell of her breasts as they pushed against the low-cut top of her dress.

  He frowned and tried to think of something that wouldn’t drag his thoughts toward trouble. Unfortunately for him, his body was paying all kinds of attention to Josie’s nearness. Pressing a button, he lowered his window to let in a little cool air to clear his head.

  Josie started talking about her ideas for his video, waving one arm around as she did so. Silver bracelets slid upward and clanked together on skin that looked creamy soft. Unable to help himself, his attention moved to her mouth as she bit down on the corner of her full bottom lip, holding on to it momentarily before she let out a laugh. “It’s a good idea, right?”

  “What is?”

  “You weren’t listening? That deducts ten boyfriend points.”

  “Eh, my score is so high, I can afford to lose ten points.”

  “Right.” She snorted in disbelief.

  Lincoln put his hand over his heart and let out a dramatic sigh. “Your doubt is kind of eroding my self-confidence. I need a more supportive girlfriend.”

  Josie pulled the car to a stop in front of the house he’d grown up in and shut off the engine. She tapped on the steering wheel for a second, then shot him a long look. “Gimme another chance, baby. I can change.”

  Lincoln laughed at her exaggerated tone, then noticed the curtain move in the living room window. They were probably already the topic of conversation. “Ready?”

  “Wait.” She put her hand on his arm. “We need to decide why we broke up and why getting back together isn’t working.”

  Lincoln thought for a second. “I’m drawing a blank. You?”

  “We could stick with the commitment thing you told your mom and grandmother.”

  “Are you sure? It was really more of a joke,” Lincoln said.

  “But it’s a good one. With you aching to marry me—”

  “Why am I aching?”

  “Fine. Wanting to marry me and me not being interested—”

  “Why wouldn’t you want to marry me?”

  She threw her hands up. “Because you froze me out of your life and acted like you didn’t want anything to do with me or because you never asked! Take your pick.”

  Lincoln’s eyes widened, taken aback by her outburst. He’d thought they were just playing. “We are still talking about our hypothetical relationship, right? I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

  She stared at him for a second, then sighed. “Yes, we’re on the same page. Let’s just say that you wanted to marry me, I said no, but the only information that I gave you was that I wasn’t ready.”

  “That’ll work. Then we’ll set the stage for strike one after the celebration starts winding down. When I wink at you, that’s the cue that I’m about to start something.” Lincoln got out and opened the rear door of the car to get the gift.

  When they walked in, Lincoln put the present on the table. Then they went through the kitchen and out into the backyard to greet his family.

  A large white party tent with netting stood in the center of the yard. Table after table was filled with food and the place was packed. As he’d suspected, most of the town was there to help celebrate. At the back of the tent, standing on a stage, the DJ spun music from his grandmother’s era.

  Wearing a bright yellow dress, Jean was seated at a chair surrounded by his family and a handful of her friends. He and Josie walked across the floor and Lincoln leaned down to press a kiss to his grandmother’s cheek. “Happy birthday.”

  “You two look perfect together,” his mom said with a funny little sigh.

  “How are things?” Jean asked in a stage whisper.

  Lincoln saw Josie try to hide a smile. “I told you before. We’re working on it. But there are a lot of issues between us.”

  Jean rolled her eyes and wagged her finger at both of them. “That’s code for somebody’s being stubborn.”

  “I agree,” Lincoln said with the right touch of fake sorrow.

  Jean snorted. “I’m not talking about Josie.”

  Josie had the nerve to laugh out loud. Lincoln glanced at her, then put his hand over his heart. “I’m wounded.”

  “You’ll heal. Now come dance with this birthday girl.” Jean took his arm and led them to a center area in the tent. She swung her hips from side to side and then went into flapper moves complete with leg kicks. Grabbing Lincoln’s arm, she danced around him. “When you work things out with Josie and you need an engagement ring, I’ll give you one of mine.”

  His grandmother had been married four times and wasn’t averse to making it five. Lincoln rubbed his jaw as he did his best to keep up with her. He couldn’t exactly say he’d never need an engagement ring or she might get suspicious. “Well…all right.”

  “You look as enthusiastic as a man who’s just been told he needs a prostate exam. What’s the matter?”

  “I told you, there are a lot of issues.”

  “Horse pucky. I’m betting it’s a Lincoln problem and not a Josie one.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I’m the queen when it comes to knowing that men do stupid things.”

  “Wrong grandson.”

  Jean laughed. “When it comes to your love life, you suck as badly as Rafferty does. You had to have done something that made Josie not want to commit because I know that gal wants a family.” She swung her hips and bumped his hard enough for Lincoln to miss a step.

  Normally, he’d gently tell his grandmother to mind her own business but since it was her birthday, he was giving her a free pass. Still, that didn’t make it any more comfortable to listen to her go on and on, especially knowing he and Josie weren’t a couple and non-couples didn’t have couple problems.

  Family and friends started to join them on the dance floor and when Lincoln saw Josie being escorted by Mac, a fellow firefighter, he frowned. Twisting around, he tried to keep an eye on them as Mac held Josie tighter than an I-wanna-be-your-friend grip. His stomach knotted, and he was so busy staring at them that he butt bumped one of the tables and his steps faltered.

  “Pay attention, Linc. I have an image to uphold.”

  “Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was getting twisted up about. Mac was a good guy.

  Josie laughed hard at something Mac said. Huh. The guy wasn’t that funny.

  He caught Josie’s eye and she gave him a smile like they had an intimate secret. That smile of hers could thaw a frozen lake. It was a conspiratorial smile, one that acknowledged they’d joined forces for mutual benefit and nothing more. Not that I want more. He’d be an idiot to violate his own foolproof plan. She laughed again, and Lincoln couldn’t stop staring at her. How was it that she’d grown more beautiful since the drive over?

  What the hell? Mac’s hand is way too low.

  Lincoln jerked his thoughts back under control. He was used to watching out for Josie. That’s why he felt so bent out of shape. The only thing he felt for Josie was friendly affection and a slight attraction, which was just because he hadn’t been with anyone in a while.

  He watched as Mac’s hand started to dip even lower. What the hell was the other guy’s problem? Moving in on his girl like that.

  His girl? Lincoln stopped dancing, and Jean ran into him with an oof.

  “Linc, what—” She saw who he was looking at and gave a smile that bordered on devious, but when he narrowed his gaze, trying to figure it out, she blinked up at him with eyes wide and innocent.

  Lincoln stole another glance at Josie, unable to help himself. Maybe his plan wasn’t as foolproof as he’d thought.

  Chapter Seven

  Josie danced a couple of times with Mac, once with Rafferty, and even Grayson. But Lincoln hadn’t asked her to dance. Which meant they didn’t look
like they were trying to work on their relationship at all. Lincoln wasn’t picking up on the nonverbal clues she’d been sending his way, so she was going to have to take matters into her own hands.

  Walking up behind Casey, she tapped on her friend’s shoulder. “Is it okay if I steal your brother for a dance?”

  “Of course.”

  Josie stepped into the circle of Lincoln’s arms and he put his hand at the small of her back. She sucked in a breath and when he raised an eyebrow, she smiled blandly and tipped her head up to meet his gaze. “This isn’t going to work.”

  “I know. I hate pretending as much as you do, but it’ll be over soon. We’ll set the stage for the breakup and—”

  Josie shook her head vehemently. “We can’t.”

  “I know I’m a hard guy to let go of, but it has to be this way.”

  Josie rolled her eyes. “I’m being serious.” She wished he wouldn’t let his facial scruff grow into the neat beard he sometimes wore like he was doing now. It made it hard to think straight.

  “We agreed to begin the process here.”

  “I know that.” Josie lowered her voice to an urgent whisper. “But neither one of us was thinking clearly. Do you really want to do this at your grandmother’s birthday party? Think of how it’ll upset her.”

  He looked over at Jean, who was laughing, and grimaced. “You’re right. We weren’t thinking clearly.” His hand pressed against the small of her back.

  Great. Now she wasn’t thinking clearly. “Glad we’re on the same page. Now put on your happy-to-see-me face.”

  Lincoln smiled. “Like this?”

  “Overkill. Tone it down.” She noticed his mother watching them but pretending not to. “Your mother is sneaking glances. Quick. Fake something romantic.”

  “Okay…uh…you look better.”

  “Are. You. For. Real?” Josie shook her head. “No wonder we didn’t last. I look better? Than what? I normally do? Than the deer that roam the woods?”

 

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