Playing With Fire (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Reina Torres

  “My number?” She laughed and Roman felt his gut twist. “Oh sure! Got a pen?”

  When the guy reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a pen, Roman saw red. Grabbing Joe-college by the shirt, Roman stepped between them. He ignored both outraged exclamations, his focus narrowing on the man. He wasn't local. He didn't understand what he was stepping into. “Back off, man. She's married!”

  Whoa. Hands in the air like an off-duty blackjack dealer, the guy left in a rush.

  Satisfied, Roman turned around and felt the blood drain from his face.

  Finley was pissed, her eyes blazing with anger. He knew he'd somehow crossed a line, and based on the way she swayed toward him, he'd hugely miscalculated her alcohol tolerance. His girl, correction, his best friend was sloshed.

  “Fin, I-”

  She lifted a hand and tried to jab him in the chest, but it ended up sliding along his arm. “Mind your own business.”

  He took hold of her hand, trying to ignore the zip of energy that shot up his arm from the simple touch. “Mind my business,” he sputtered, “have you forgotten about your husband?”

  The room went silent on her gasp of outrage, and the only sound that he heard beyond the latest Miranda Lambert cheating hearts song was the rapid in and out of his own lungs.

  “No,” the words seemed to crawl from her throat one at a time, “I haven't forgotten him. But I don't think he cares one way or the other. And by the way, Mister Rub-my- nose-in-it, my ex-husband is probably still in Egypt with his new girlfriend.”

  He wanted to look away, but there was something so amazing about the fire in her eyes, and he couldn't.

  “I'm sorry,” he blurted out the truth. "I didn't know."

  She pulled her hand away. "No," she blew out a breath, moving some of her long waves away from her eyes, "you didn't. And I'll take the blame for most of that. I haven't been the best of friends over the years, but right now the last thing that I want to think about is my dog of an ex-husband."

  He reached out, wanting to take her hand again, but settled for trailing his fingertips down her arm. "What are you going to do?"

  The rest of the world around them had started moving again. Drinks were served, conversations had started up, but maybe a little softer than before. Finley’s eyes, weary and somewhat swimming in alcohol, swept around the room looking for something.

  And they found a couple standing off in the corner, their drinks long forgotten, their hands and mouths all over each other as if they were behind a closed bedroom door and not in the middle of the most popular bar in St. Helena.

  Something dawned in Finley’s eyes, like a light dimmer had just been thrown all the way open on a scene in a play. The grin that accompanied it was broad and full. He should have been happy to see it, but something in her expression threw him for a loop.

  “Screw him!”

  Her outburst splashed into the room like water on a fire, dousing everyone's attempts not to listen in.

  “I can't let him have all the fun.”

  Roman groaned inwardly. By the look in her eyes, he knew she'd come up with an idea, and he wasn't sure he was going to like what it was. She smiled and he broke into a sweat.

  "I'm going to get laid!"

  "What?"

  It didn't seem to matter that nearly every head in the room was turned in their direction. At least it didn't matter to Finley. She barreled right on ahead.

  "I said I'm going to get laid. Sex with Russ was a bore. A snooze fest. He certainly managed to make it interesting, with someone else. But I think it's about time I get to enjoy it. I want no strings... Hot... Sweaty... I-don't-belong-to-anyone sex!”

  The force of her words hit him square in the chest, but it was the look of truth in her eyes that scared him, more than a little. "I can't-" His heart tangled over old feelings for her that flared up like a bonfire. "Fin, I don't-"

  "I wouldn’t ask you, Roman." She gave him a sappy smile and reached out to pat his cheek like a baby or some kind of pet. "You'd be the last person I'd ever ask."

  All the alcohol seemed to hit her at once, and she moved away toward the bathroom, leaving him behind. He saw quite a few heads turn and watch her walk away with great interest. On some level he couldn't blame them. Finley was beautiful. She'd gone from gawky teenager to gorgeous woman, and she'd just announced it was open season on her since she was single.

  A couple of men turned and saw his dark glare, retreating behind their beers. It was one thing to discourage them when he was in the room, but he couldn't always be hovering around Finley, especially once Matt came home in about a week. He stared down the empty hall and made her a promise. "I know you think you want to do this, Finley, but I can't let you make a mistake like this. Not while I'm around."

  Chapter Three

  It had been only a few days since Finley brought the conversation at the Spigot to a complete halt with one simple declaration. And Roman had just about enough with everyone giving him those long pitying looks as though he'd lost his best friend.

  And damn if they weren't right.

  Finley had been avoiding him.

  It would have helped if he had more than work to keep him busy. But Matt was still away, and so he was left to throw himself into work, but he was still mulling over his awkward reunion with Finley. If that's what you could call it.

  After she'd basically shut down every other conversation in the room, Roman had all but carried her out of the bar and taken her home. The ride had been silent like the grave. When he'd pulled to a stop in front of her house. She waved off his help and made her way to the door. She'd told him to stay in the car. That hadn't stopped him from sitting in his car for a while, until one of Jonah’s deputies had driven by to check, citing a call from a concerned citizen.

  That earned him a whole slew of comments and jokes from the guys. There was no real privacy between civil servants in a town as small as St. Helena, but then again there weren't better people to be found when you were in a pinch and needed them. So, Roman sucked up the jokes and tried to let it distract him from the real problem.

  She was an adult woman.

  She'd been married almost nine years, and she could handle herself.

  But truth be told, he couldn't handle it.

  The thought of Finley hooking up with a random guy didn't sit well with him. She needed someone who cared for her. Someone who respected her. Someone who wanted more than just a quick romp between the sheets.

  This just wasn't like her.

  Sitting at his kitchen table, sipping his coffee, he wondered how she found out about Russ.

  Had he sent her some kind of ridiculous Dear Jane letter? A call? Did the asshole bother to face up to it, or did he just sneak away?

  He hadn't known Russell before the wedding, and he hadn't heard much about him after, but he'd at least thought that Russell respected Finley, valued her talent and her sense of adventure.

  As his thoughts turned to her, solely to her, he felt his frustration turn into something completely different. Last night's dreams flashed before his eyes, making him damn glad he was sitting down.

  Finley filled his thoughts, laughing, and gloriously naked in his bed. Her hands smoothing over his chest, her fingertips trailing over his skin, bringing up goose bumps all over his body. And then lower, her nails brushing through the sparse trail of hair from his belly button down to his-

  The phone rang, a five alarm gush of water to his erotic daydream. He reached over to pick it up, nearly knocking his coffee onto the device. He missed the old buttons that you could jam with a finger. It wasn't nearly as satisfying to press a flat screen. “What now, Baudouin?”

  There was a definite pause on the other end of the phone. “Something wrong, Cap?”

  “No.” He could hear the carefully chosen words and tone and knew that he was acting like an ass. “No, look, you caught me at a weird time.” Yeah, he was still hard in his pants and breathing a little too fast. “What do you need?”

>   “The Chief dropped by the House today, and wanted to know if you picked the man for the event tomorrow. It's the-"

  “Damn!” Roman leaned forward, braced his elbow on the tabletop, and rubbed his temple, hoping to ease the beginnings of a headache. There were always requests for tours and public appearances. He knew there were a couple of requests on his desk, and he had every intention of taking care of them, but he'd let his worries about Finley distract him. “You don't want to do it?”

  The pause on the other end of the phone was enough of an answer.

  “Sorry, forget I asked.” His head was pounding. It was probably because his blood flow had been redirected south of his belt. “What about…” He thought about the low man on the totem pole. Seth was still the newest guy on the roster, but beyond the FNG status that would have made him the easy choice for grunt work. Not that they'd hazed anyone, but being the Fucking New Guy wasn't ever easy. It took a while to learn the ropes at any firehouse. So not Seth, but, “Give it to McGuire.”

  Again, another pause. “You sure about that?”

  “You don't think McGuire can handle it?” Roman's temper spiked a little bit, but he tamped it down as best he could. “Because if he doesn't do it, he'll have me to answer to.”

  “No problem, Cap, I'm sure he'll do it,” there was a little sigh on the other end of the phone, “and I can guarantee he'll have a huge grin on his face.”

  The tone was straight enough, but the choice of words gave him pause. “You're not blowing smoke are you?”

  “No, I just- never mind. Sorry I had to bother you on your day off.”

  Roman heard the genuine apology in Adam’s voice and felt like a complete ass. “No problem,” he let out a pent up sigh, “I should have taken care of it earlier. I'll assign the rest of the events when l see you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah," Adam cleared his throat. "I'll see you then.”

  When the call ended, Roman still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something.

  Looking at the phone in his hand, he found the contact information for the Thomas House. It was something, he believed, that she'd reactivated her parents’ phone number. That she was possibly thinking of staying, but so far she hadn't answered his calls. And if she had a cell phone, he didn't have the number.

  He could try her house again. He started to dial, but the phone rang in his hand. He answered the new call with a smile. “Hey, Buddy!”

  “Dad! Dad! You'll never guess what!”

  “Nope, probably not! What's up, big guy?”

  “I have a new friend.”

  There was pure joy in his son's voice and Roman sat back in his chair with a smile. “That's great.”

  “It sure is.” He launched into the story about meeting a boy at the beach when he was taking a surfing lesson from one of the pros. It was a lesson that his grandparents had cleared before the trip, so Roman smiled. “And he's a Mighty Mite too!”

  A huge weight lifted off of his shoulders. “That's great, Matt.”

  “We’re gonna be pen pals, but the email kind. And if he ever comes to St. Helena someday maybe we can go camping!”

  Roman had opened his mouth to try to get a word in edgewise, but Matt chugged on ahead, full steam.

  “What about you, dad? Anything exciting happen?”

  He probably shouldn't have said anything, but he chalked it up to temporary insanity when he told his son. "My old friend moved back to St. Helena-”

  “Oh, wow! Were you guys pen pals?”

  Roman tried not to laugh out loud. No, while Finley had been away they hadn't kept in touch. She'd taken the blame for most of it the other night, but it had been him too. It was hard to think about her living with Russell. Sleeping with him. And honestly Roman had been hoping that if they'd had children, he could handle seeing pictures of her with someone else's child in her arms, but-

  “Dad?”

  “Uh no,” he coughed a little and managed to focus, “we were just in person friends.”

  “Oh, even awesomer!” Matt was probably hopping from one foot to the other. “Did you have sleepovers?”

  Wow he did not want to answer that question. No thank you.

  “Dad, Gramps wants to talk to you.”

  #

  “Wow, this might just be the stupidest decision you could make.” Finley looked at the calendar open on the table before her and thoroughly enjoyed the sight. She met her friend’s eyes over Mister June. “Seriously, Harper, how can you give this up?” She turned another page and saw July and the sight made her cheeks go red.

  She knew that face, but boy had she not known that it came with that body!

  “Hey, no drooling over my husband!”

  Finley looked up with a sheepish grin. “Oh fine, take all the fun out of it.” She looked at the photo again, but purely with a photographer’s eye. “With the men looking this good, I'm sure Shay’s had women lining up not just to adopt the fuzzies, but the men too.”

  “That has happened a few times,” Harper chuckled and leaned back in her chair to take a sip of her King Kamehameha Mocha. “If you look through both calendars, I'm sure you’ll see a lot of familiar faces.”

  “If my eyes get that far.” Finley was quickly warming to the idea. “But if you are seriously looking for help with the calendar, I'm in.” She took a sip of her drink, an herbal tea that she hoped would settle her stomach. Since Roman surprised her on her first day back, her belly and other more delicate things had been in knots.

  “It doesn't pay much.” Harper was hesitant about bringing up that aspect of the job.

  Finley quickly set her at ease. “I really need some local credits if I have a hope of making my home here. I don't need money right now, but I probably will soon. Russ gave me a chunk of change to move back to the States, but I don't think he did it to be nice. I'm pretty sure he did it because his lawyer said it would make him look-”

  “Like less of an asshole?”

  Finley’s expression brightened at the harsh word coming from a sweetheart like Harper. “That's a pretty accurate way to put it.”

  Harper gave her a wink. “Adam says I swear more now that we're together. But really, it's just that I feel comfortable enough to say what I really think.”

  “No,” Finley took another sip of her tea, “let him think it's his fault.” Setting the cup down on the table, she played with the tea tag hanging down from the lid of the cup. A moment later she felt her heart tighten a bit. Who was she to give advice, even jokingly, to someone in a relationship that was obviously very happy?

  “Oh here,” Harper’s voice was so excited, Finley just had to look, and she regretted it a heartbeat later. “This is the old PTA calendar.”

  The page that Harper had opened featured Roman.

  Old? Good lord, is that what he looked like under his polo and slacks now? It was crazy to think about it, but those hard washboard abs had been close enough to touch the other night. Finley was instantly glad she hadn't known it then, because she might very well have shoved Roman ‘dependable’ Brady up against the vintage brass railing at the Spigot, and polished off a few things besides that bottle of tequila she'd managed to demolish in a few hours.

  Good Lord Almighty-

  “Can't believe he’s still single.”

  “Yeah. How is that?” The words were out before Finley could stop herself, “I'd think someone would have snapped him up before the ink was dry on his papers.” She was still reeling from the information that Roman had been married, become a father, and divorced while she was gone. “Hasn't there been someone?”

  She saw Harper’s lips press together in a thin pink line. “There was one person.”

  Finley felt the words twist her stomach even further into knots. “Really?” The word WHO was implied, but there was no way that she was going to ask.

  “Sara Reed. Well, she's Sara DeLuca now. She married Trey, and they’re expecting.”

  “That had to be tough on Roman.” She struggled to ke
ep her tone light and try not to look like she was fishing for information.

  “It made sense, you know, Roman and Sara. Roman had Matt, and Sara was a widow with a young son about the same age.”

  Oh great, could it get any better? Jealous? Boy, her inner voice was on a roll. How could she begrudge a widow a handsome and oh-so-responsible man like Roman? But Finley knew she did. And even though she knew she would never cross that line with Roman, there was just something about the idea that had her tasting bile on the back of her tongue.

  “But I'm glad it didn't work out for them. Sara’s so insanely happy with Trey.”

  But where did that leave Roman? When did he get to find someone to be insanely happy with?

  Just the thought brought up a ferocious protective streak in Finley that carried with it a number of other emotions. And there was no way she was going to take a look at those tag-a-long emotions. No way.

  Shifting gears, Finley forged ahead.

  “So what kind of rules am I working with here? What can't I do with the men in their poses?”

  Harper lowered her cup, licking her lips to enjoy every drop of mocha goodness. “Well, we’ve had two great calendars that have been huge successes. Normally, I’d say not to mess with a proven product…”

  “But?”

  “Sometimes it's good to push the envelope a little. I’ve had this idea, but…”

  Finley couldn't help the frisson of excitement that fired through her veins. Harper had ‘the look’ on her face. The same look that creative people got when they had a truly inspirational thought in their heads. “I'm all ears,” she assured her.

  Harper leaned over the table and Finley copied the movement until they were nearly nose to nose with the heavenly scent of Lexi’s hot coffee drink wafting up between them. “I think we should go for a little more skin …”

  Chapter Four

  Arriving at the firehouse on Monday morning, the first thing that Roman noticed was the full parking lot. As the captain, he had his own reserved spot, so that wasn't a problem, but it was curious. Putting it in park, he swung the door open and blinked at the early morning rays of the sun. It wouldn't have bothered him much on a regular day, but last night he'd lain awake and argued with himself about Finley.