“It was kind of rough in there,” she blurted, not wanting him to walk away just yet.
He didn’t move, just stared down at her, almost scowling. “Yup.”
She fought for something else to say. “I’m sorry, Nate.”
Again he nodded. “It shouldn’t have been John,” he grumbled, his brows narrowing, giving him an angry, dangerous look. “I was in that house, too. If I’d done my job better …”
“You can’t blame yourself,” she cried out, then gulped in a breath when he pierced her with eyes that seemed to have turned black. “Nate,” she said, forcing her heart to slow down. He already didn’t like her, but if she said the wrong thing right now, he’d hate her forever. They were talking about his best friend here. “You’re in a very dangerous line of work. John knew that as well as you and I do.”
He kept staring at her, not even blinking. Well, at least he hadn’t stormed off on her yet.
“It was a terrible, terrible accident. And I know you knew John better than I did, but I think I knew him pretty well. He would rather have gone out in a victorious explosion than wither away as an old man. Yes, he went in his prime. But I heard all the children were saved. All of you, including John, did an amazing job of getting a family with young kids out of a burning house. John wouldn’t want you moping around thinking all of this is your fault.”
His expression still hadn’t changed.
She took a breath and went for broke. It was killing her having Nate look at her like that. “John is going to be pissed, and he’ll haunt you, if you keep thinking he didn’t do the best job he could have done. And your thinking that you should have done better sort of implies John wasn’t holding it up on his end.”
Nate blinked. He tilted his head. Then slowly licking his lips, he lowered his attention to the outside of her car door. “That’s an interesting twist on things,” he muttered.
She exhaled and watched him, praying he wouldn’t blow her off—for the thousandth time—and storm away to his car.
“John was an amazing firefighter. Just because I wear a different uniform doesn’t mean I don’t know the way of things.”
Nate’s eyes were the color of melting milk chocolate when he lifted his attention to her face. “He was the best,” he said sullenly.
“Remember him that way,” she whispered.
Nate turned as if to leave. Mary brainstormed, frantically trying to think of something else to say. She didn’t want him leaving. The last thing she wanted to do was go home, where she’d inevitably end up masturbating as she allowed every image of him from today to flash through her head, then Photoshop him so his body was next to hers, with both of them naked.
“Would you like—” He hesitated, breaking off before he finished what he was going to say, and stared at the ground, then gave her a side-glance. “You want to go for a drink?” he asked. “I’m not in the mood to go home yet.”
Say yes! Say yes! And don’t do the happy dance where he can see you!
“That sounds good.” She smiled.
Nate didn’t smile. “Follow me. We’ll go over to Milton’s.” He didn’t wait to hear her response but crossed the street in front of her to his car.
Mary simply watched him, positive she was drooling. Nate Armstrong had just asked her to go for a drink. It might be because he didn’t want to be alone and they both knew John really well. Mary wished more than anything John hadn’t been ripped out of the prime of his life. It wasn’t fair. She’d meant the words she said to Nate, though. And if his mourning would bring them closer to each other, Mary was shameless enough to take advantage of that. They would mourn together. Somehow, she’d show Nate Armstrong she was a good lady to have around.
Milton’s was one of three family restaurants in town, and the only one with a liquor license. The establishment was divided in two, half of it being a restaurant with tables where people could sit and eat. The other half was a bar with a few pool tables. They sat at the bar, and after they’d barely finished their first beer Mary saw it was a mistake choosing this spot, and possibly a mistake being at the bar and grill.
Every person entering the bar spotted the two of them and came over to offer condolences. They had heard either on the news, from a friend, or through work that John had died earlier that day in a terrible house fire.
Even Captain Odgers strolled in, no longer in uniform, and approached both of them as if he already knew Mary and Nate were out together. Which he might have if he’d recognized both of their cars outside. He gave her a curious look with her beer in her hand and still in uniform. Mary was off the clock and hadn’t had time to go home yet. She gave him the same look back, daring him to say anything or she’d point out he should be home with his wife and kids after being at work all day and not at the local bar.
Odgers looked away first and took the bar stool on the opposite side of Nate, the one where several other people had already sat while offering their condolences and sad stories, which for some reason people seemed to think would cheer him up.
“I was just thinking on the way over here how I used to chase you two off out at the lake when you were teenagers and causing trouble.” Odgers waved to the bartender for a beer.
Nate snorted and nodded, lifting his beer and downing a good portion of it. Mary decided she would nurse hers. If Nate needed to tie one on tonight, he had every right, but he would also need a ride home.
“You two would always try to sneak off and not get caught, thinking I wouldn’t see you.” Odgers slapped Nate on the back and grunted, or possibly for him it was a laugh. “I swear more than once I thought the two of you would grow up to be no good.”
Nate laughed, although it sounded forced and his smile faded quickly. Odgers went on longer than the others had, and although Nate finished his beer, he declined a second when the captain offered to buy it for him. Mary remained quiet, listening and watching Nate as he managed professional politeness and courtesy. Finally, Odgers got up to leave, again patting Nate on the back, then giving her a nod before walking away to join others he knew at the bar.
“Do you want to get out of here?” She had to lean into Nate, since someone had turned on the jukebox. “I think I’ve heard enough about how you and John were when you were kids.”
Nate’s expression was etched in stone when he shifted, their knees bumping, and looked at her. This time his focus dropped lower than her eyes, to her mouth, her chin. She fought off a shiver when she swore he glanced lower. Was he checking her out? Her breasts swelled in eager anticipation and she knew her nipples were suddenly hard enough that they probably pressed against her uniform shirt.
“We could pick up a twelve-pack, go back to my place,” she offered, and refused to look away from him. No way would she back down or appear embarrassed after inviting him over.
“That sounds good.” Nate stood and tossed a few bills next to his empty beer before turning to leave. He didn’t wait for her to get off the bar stool, nor did he make any effort to hold the door for her.
Which was probably a really good thing. Mary was still in shock. Nate had just agreed to return to her place. No way would she have appreciated the chivalry. Dear God! Nate was coming over to her house. It was all she could do not to skip after him. Now all she had to do was not make a complete fool out of herself once they were alone.
“Where do you live?” Nate stopped in the middle of the parking lot, his keys in his hand when he turned around to face her.
“Over on Walnut Street,” she said, praying he wasn’t about to come to his senses and realize who he’d just agreed to go home with.
Worry lines still creased his forehead as he took another moment studying her. She didn’t have to wonder where his eyes traveled on her body. Everywhere he looked, charges of energy zapped to life just underneath her skin. And as if it weren’t muggy enough outside, heat radiated between her legs, creating a pressure that swelled and spread until she feared she would burn to life inside. And this was definitely a fire
only one firefighter would be able to put out.
“That isn’t too far from here.”
She wouldn’t say the overused line that nothing in this town was too far from here.
“I’ll go back inside and buy a twelve-pack. Want to give me the address?”
When she hesitated for the briefest of moments, panic threatening to take over as it hit her he might still back out, Nate stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Do you really want everyone in town talking about the two of us leaving here together and both of us heading toward your place?”
Hell yes! She’d walk around with that reputation holding her head high.
“Regardless of how you think of me, I have more respect for you than that.” Nate popped her on the nose. “Give me your address.”
“Four hundred Walnut.”
Nate backed up, then headed back inside. All she could do was stare at his buns of steel until he’d cleared the spread of parking lot and disappeared inside Milton’s. She’d forgotten how he used to pop her on the nose when they were in high school. Except back then it was to laugh at her when she wanted to go wherever he was going. He would tap her nose with his finger and inform her whatever girl he was going out with that week wouldn’t appreciate Mary hanging around him.
“What did he mean, regardless of what I think of him?” She headed to her car, climbed in, and stewed on that as she drove home.
Mary changed clothes, three different times, and was debating on makeup when there was a knock on her door. She almost ran to answer, damn near flying over her ottoman in front of the upright chair her parents had given her before moving to St. Louis.
“It’s been one hell of a day.” Nate didn’t wait for an invitation but entered the moment she opened the door.
Mary watched him enter her home as if he’d been over hundreds of times. It wasn’t fair he was so relaxed and she was acting worse than if this were her first date.
“For the life of me I couldn’t remember what kind of beer you ordered. I hope this is okay,” he said, holding up a twelve-pack of longneck bottles of Budweiser.
“Perfect. Make yourself at home.” She closed her door and locked it, then followed him as he managed to find her kitchen.
“Nice place.” Nate opened her refrigerator, bent over to place the twelve-pack inside, and pulled free two beers.
“I like it.” She was sure she had to look proud as she glanced around her kitchen. She was thirty and had recently bought her first house. Every night when she came home she’d walk through the rooms, glorifying in how every inch belonged to her. Well, her and the bank.
Nate popped the lids off both bottles, searched and found her trash can under her sink, then handed her one of the opened bottles. This time he was more obvious when he took his time looking her over.
“You clean up good, Mary.” He tilted his bottle in a silent toast, clinking his against hers, then took a long sip, watching her as he did.
“Thank you.” She wanted to say something similar, but Nate hadn’t changed clothes—not that he didn’t look sexy as hell in his uniform. “I’d like to say the same,” she mumbled, and smiled as she sipped her beer.
“Sorry,” he said, sounding as if he meant it. “I don’t think I had it in me to go home and change clothes. For some reason, it seems as if going home would mean the day would end and John will really be dead.” He shook his head, waving his hand when she would have commented. “I know. That sounds stupid. And I’m not delusional. John is dead. I know that. It’s just how I feel.”
“I understand, I think. And I’m glad you can say how you feel.”
“Well, it’s just you and me. Hell, Mary. We’ve been friends as long as John and I were friends.” He took another drink of his beer, saying what he did as if it were common knowledge.
“I never knew you considered me a friend.”
A bit of the Nate she remembered surfaced when he looked at her as if she’d just grown a second head. “Oh, I’m sorry. I must have the wrong house. I thought I was coming over to hang out with that pigtailed girl who took forever to learn how to climb a tree.” Nate gripped the top of her head, tousling her hair, and walked past her. “Where is your TV?”
“In my bedroom.” She followed him into her living room, her head still tingling from where he’d just touched her.
“Oh. Well, give me a few more beers before I try taking you to bed just so I can watch TV.”
She could barely swallow, let alone think of a thing to say. Was he actually considering trying to sleep with her tonight?
Nate regretted his words when he saw Mary’s look of shock. He told himself she didn’t think of him as a man she might consider having sex with. To Mary, Nate was just the boy across the street she grew up with. They were old friends, and he would be smart to remember that. Making himself comfortable on a long couch with its back to her front windows, he stretched out his legs and relaxed his free arm across the back of it.
“Relax, Mary,” he said, laughing and making light of his not so subtle comment. “I only sleep with cheap tramps after just a few beers.”
“Umm, thanks, I think.” She wrinkled her nose, and he got a wonderful view of that light spread of freckles across her nose. She took the other end of the couch, tucked her legs up next to her, and stared at him. “And I probably would have learned to climb trees faster if you hadn’t been above me each time making fun of me so I would get all flustered and lose my balance.”
“You get all flustered?” He wasn’t buying into that one at all. “You’re a rock, my dear. Push that line off on some other poor sucker. You forget, I’ve known you for most of your life.”
“Then your memory is rather jaded, my dear,” she said, emphasizing the term of endearment as her eyes flashed violet. “You were both ruthless and cruel as can be no matter how hard I tried to do anything.”
He’d forgotten how much of a rock she could be. No one pulled a thing over on Mary. Even when he had tried bullying her or teasing and taunting her, she always dished it back to him better than any boy he’d ever known. Even now as she got ready to hand him a piece of her mind, she looked hot as hell. Nate let his gaze drop again to the cleavage at the top of her tank top. The shorts she’d put on weren’t too short, but with her legs pulled up and her feet bare he saw enough skin he’d be smart not to stare too long or he’d be explaining why he was suddenly hard as a rock.
“I guess I forgot you were a girl,” he said, knowing he wouldn’t be able to handle her quick mind tonight. Although already he felt coming here was a good idea. Mary was perceptive as always, sensing how much he hated everyone coming up to him at Milton’s. But that was Mary. He’d forgotten how much she used to take care of them, always suggesting a way to make him more comfortable or a better way to play a game or do some activity. “Not that I would forget that today,” he added, giving her a side-glance as he downed more beer.
“What does that mean?” She didn’t sound bent out of shape but more curious. In fact, she leaned forward, crossing her legs so her thighs were spread and only the small bit of denim covered her pussy.
Nate forced himself not to stare and wonder how smooth and soft her inner thighs might be. “It means I was a stupid kid, a boy. You ran around with us so much I guess I quit thinking of you as a girl and just treated you like one of us.”
“Is that why you never asked me out?” She asked the question so quietly and immediately drank her beer after she spoke; it was almost as if she hadn’t said anything.
Nate didn’t drink often, but he didn’t think he was feeling the alcohol that much after just starting his second beer. “Is that why I didn’t ask you out?” he repeated, staring at her to make sure there wasn’t something he’d just missed in her question.
Mary stared at him over the rim of her bottle, those captivating eyes of hers open wide and waiting as if his answer meant something to her.
“Why in the world would I have asked you out?”
Mary’s expression fe
ll and she hopped off the couch, hurrying to the kitchen so fast she disappeared before he managed to get around her coffee table.
“What the hell?” he demanded, entering her kitchen behind her, then stopping in his tracks as he stared at her perfectly round ass bent over as she dug around in her refrigerator.
“I wanted another beer,” she explained, twisting the cap off and making a face as she did.
“I would have opened that for you.” He wasn’t sure if he should get closer to her or not. Mary wasn’t a goofy girl with funny eyes and crooked pigtails anymore. And she had to know that. “Did I just say something wrong in there?” he asked, thumbing over his shoulder toward the living room.
“Actually, Nate, yes, you did.” She bent over again, offering him another incredible ass shot. He could grab that ass, hold on tight, and position her just where he wanted her before he slid his cock—
Hell!
“Why wouldn’t you have asked me out? What was so terribly wrong with me?” She put her beer on the counter next to her and crossed her arms, which forced her breasts to push together and show off even more cleavage.
“Wrong with you?” He wouldn’t insult her when she was obviously serious by looking anywhere other than her face. “Damn, Mary. There was never a thing wrong with you. But you were my friend.”
“You can’t be friends with a girl you’re dating?”
“No! Well, yes.” Nate scrubbed his hair, eyeing her as she narrowed her gaze on him. “Why are we talking about this?” he demanded, deciding it would be safer to bail than try to hold up his end of this argument. Being friends, being best friends, with a lady he was dating would be an incredible yet very rare treat.
“I never thought of you as shallow,” she said quietly, as if she was almost disappointed.
Nate decided he’d take the bait. She was challenging him, and in spite of her suddenly sober expression and the way she dropped her attention to her floor, he still knew what she was up to. Nate knew a thing or two about women. He wasn’t a kid anymore, either.
Feel the Heat Page 3