But she’d lived through change over and over again in her life. It was a change when she left grade school and started high school. It was a change when she graduated and found a job. It was tough moving out of her parents’ house and into her first apartment. But she hadn’t minded a bit when she bought her house and moved again. So there were changes in her life she’d lived through just fine. Now it was time for one more change, and this was the big one.
“It’s time to go get my man.” She sounded a lot more confident than she felt.
The rain left the early evening noticeably cooler than it had been in ages. There were still a few good weeks left to summer, but she’d take the nice cool night when it was offered. Mary jumped into her car and headed out of the parking lot, determined to see through her plan before she chickened out. One drive by the fire station, though, and she confirmed Nate wasn’t there. His Gran Torino wasn’t parked out back. If his shift had ended, he would be home for the next two days. All the firefighters worked in shifts of two days on and two days off.
So he might be home.
“Which means you better hurry up before he falls asleep and doesn’t hear someone at his door,” she ordered herself, and followed the directions she’d memorized off MapQuest after doing a bit of snooping and learning where he lived. She hadn’t been the only one who’d finally moved out of their parents’ house, although Nate’s parents still lived in the house Nate grew up in.
Nate lived just a few blocks from the fire station on a cul-de-sac that was lined with square brick fourplexes. Two apartments downstairs and two upstairs and each building with a parking lot in front of it instead of a yard. The tenants appeared to each have two stalls. Mary drove to the end of the cul-de-sac and turned around, coming back toward the main street and staring at Nate’s apartment. His car wasn’t there, either.
Where would he have gone after work?
Or maybe he wasn’t through with his shift and had done a grocery store run or something. Mary knew the firefighters took turns running errands to keep their house stocked with supplies they needed to live there during their shifts.
There was only one way to end the torment she’d endured since Nate had kissed her, then sauntered out of her house apologizing. For some reason, the poor guy was grossly disillusioned into thinking she wasn’t interested in him. And it was way past time to fix that. Mary was going to find him. When she did, she didn’t plan on leaving until Nate Armstrong understood without a shred of doubt just how interested she was. If she had to tear off his clothes and throw him down, straddle him, and fuck him, she would do it, by God! Whatever it took. Her personal torture session was going to end.
She wanted Nate Armstrong and had all of her life. Mary knew how to get what she wanted. She worked hard, was honest and up-front. She didn’t cheat and she didn’t cut corners. Nate was available and she wanted him—no, needed him. It was time to take what should be hers and make it rightfully so.
Nate wasn’t at the IGA. She did another run by the fire station house but still no Gran Torino. There was still a couple hours before dark and going home meant admitting defeat. She was on a mission, a mission to change her life for the better. If the way Nate kissed her meant anything, and she had to believe it did, he was interested in her, too. And he’d said he liked her. He’d told her they were friends when he was at her house. If Nate was one of those men who believed he couldn’t date his friend, it was time for him to be reeducated.
“Enough already,” she ordered herself, slapping her hand against the steering wheel. Mary ignored the teenagers in the car next to her when they gave her curious looks. “Where would you be, sweetheart?” she whispered, glancing up and down the cross street when she slowed for a red light.
There were several other places Nate could have gone to pick up supplies for the station house if he was still working. He could have gone to the hardware store or possibly done a late run to the post office, although it was closed by now. There was also the chance she’d missed him while he was en route to his house or the store. She could camp out in front of his apartment or at the station house. Both would draw attention to her, though.
Mary was already heading toward her old neighborhood before she decided consciously to do so. She would kill a bit of time, then run by his work and home again. Maple Street, where she grew up, ran almost from one end of town to the other. It broke off a couple times but picked up again and Mary turned on Tenth Street, then slowed and cruised the length of the road until she passed the Corelli house. Her old house was several doors down; then Nate’s parents’ house was across the street.
Everything looked the same, other than her parents’ chairs were no longer on the front porch and her dad’s pickup wasn’t parked in the long, narrow driveway that curved around to the back of the house and the large detached garage. Her parents had been so excited about moving to the big city, Mary never let them know how sad it made her when they left. She cruised on, turning at the corner.
The next street was Ash. “Mrs. Rose,” she muttered, glancing down the street, curious how badly the old woman’s house had burned.
Mary almost jerked forward when she hit the brake too hard. At the end of the block, parked on the street, was Nate’s Gran Torino.
“Gotcha!” she said, grinning, and the next moment wondered what he was doing over here.
She was already heading down the street when a frantic thought that maybe he had a girl over here he was seeing turned her stomach into a ball of nerves. That was an obstacle she hadn’t considered. Mary pulled her car up behind Nate’s when she saw the address of the house he was parked in front of.
Three-fifty Ash. This was Mrs. Rose’s house.
Nate came bounding out of the house, whistling loud enough for Mary to hear inside her car, and came to a halt when he spotted her. There was an odd look on his face when he approached her warily.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, coming around the front of her car when Mary got out.
“Nothing.”
Nate’s expression immediately relaxed and he exhaled. “Christ, woman. I saw you there and immediately bristled thinking you were bringing me more bad news.”
“You associate me with bad news?”
“No.” He frowned at her, but those milk chocolate eyes showed no hostility. “Hell no, Mary.” He exhaled and wiped sweat from his forehead, causing his brown hair to stand up and for a moment reminding her of the boy she used to know.
The man standing in front of her was anything but a boy, though. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I was about to ask you the same thing.” He pointed with his thumb toward his car and turned as he did, pulling keys from his pocket and opening his trunk. “But if you really want to know, I was hanging new curtains.”
Something swelled inside Mary. Mrs. Rose had been frantic about curtains over the phone. “You’re replacing her curtains?” she whispered, worried her voice might crack with emotion. She never would have believed this side of Nate if she weren’t seeing it for herself. Nate wasn’t soft and compassionate. He was rough and tough and hard as nails.
“Mrs. Rose always tipped well when she was on my paper route back when I was a kid.” He bent over the back of his car and dug around in his trunk.
Mary fought the urge to take a step back to better enjoy the view of all that tight muscle pressing against soft-looking faded jeans. His ass was definitely hard as nails. And rippled muscle across his back finished off the perfect picture and one hell of a mouthwatering view.
“I forgot about your paper route,” she said under her breath, forcing her gaze up when he turned around with a hammer held in his hand.
“This should work.” He looked at the hammer, then gave her his attention. “What are you doing here, Mary?”
This was where she told him the truth. There was no reason to hide her intentions. Her plan was to do exactly the opposite and make her thoughts perfectly clear to Nate.
“Sometimes
I drive by my old house,” she lied, and shrugged. “I saw your car parked here and grew curious. Plus, I admit I was worried about Mrs. Rose.”
Nate didn’t blink an eye at her explanation. He did surprise her, though, when he put his hand on her back and turned her toward the house.
“Come inside,” he decided, guiding her along as he headed to the front door. “She isn’t as with it as she was when we were kids, but Mrs. Rose is okay.”
The house had an unbearable smoke smell and was hot and stuffy. Every window had been propped open but the breeze outside didn’t cut it when it came to cooling down the inside of the dark, old home. Mary didn’t notice any fire damage until she followed Nate into the kitchen.
“Mrs. Rose, this is Mary Hamilton,” Nate announced, gesturing with his hammer as he stepped onto a chair that was pushed up against the kitchen sink. “She grew up across the street from me.”
“Are you a cop?” Mrs. Rose stood from the other side of her small, round kitchen table and gathered her house robe together at her chest with small blue-veined hands that appeared to have a permanent shake to them. “It’s good to hear we have a cop in the neighborhood.”
Mary didn’t bother correcting Mrs. Rose but instead extended her hand. “I’m so sorry about your fire but glad to see you’re okay.”
“I am not okay.” The harshness in her tone suggested just the opposite. She gestured with her hand at Nate’s butt. “Would you just look?”
Mary didn’t mind at all getting another eyeful. “I see,” she commented.
Nate looked down at her over his shoulder. There was no way he would know she meant his ass, so she simply looked up at him, keeping her expression neutral.
“Put yourself to good use, Hamilton.” There was a glow in those milk chocolate eyes, as if he found Mrs. Rose incredibly amusing. “Grab that box of nails there and help me hang this new curtain rod.”
“The fireman here knows I can’t cook without my curtains.” Mrs. Rose looked proudly at Nate’s butt.
Mary leaned against the counter, picking up the box of nails and holding a couple up to Nate. She wondered if Mrs. Rose had any sexual interest still alive in her. The woman had to be in her eighties at least. She seemed perfectly content having a conversation with Nate’s hard-as-steel rear end, though.
“And I have to have my dinner ready when my show comes on. Heaven sakes, if I don’t fix it in time again, I’m likely to burn down my entire house.”
“That isn’t going to happen, right, Mrs. Rose?” Nate said while holding a nail between his lips. “You’re going to stick to the new routine, right?”
“That’s right.” Mrs. Rose smiled and her face creased into hundreds of wrinkles. “I start my dinner at three thirty and have it ready by four thirty so I can relax before my show starts at five.”
Mary was impressed the old woman remembered all that if Nate had just instructed her to abide by this new schedule. Apparently, though, watching Nate’s rear end wore her out. By the time he finished hanging brand-new flowery curtains over her kitchen sink, Mrs. Rose announced she needed a nap.
“That was very nice of you.” Mary walked alongside Nate to their cars, noticing it was quickly getting dark. “I honestly think I’ve seen a side of you just now I didn’t know existed.”
“What side is that?” He stepped in front of her to his trunk and unlocked it to put his tools away.
“You’re a big softy.” Mary grinned when he gave her a quick, hostile glare. “I just saw it with my own eyes.”
Nate waved the hammer at her. “Tell anyone and you’ll regret it.”
“What are you going to do? Kiss me again?” She didn’t mean to say it, but the words slipped out and there wasn’t any taking them back.
Nate didn’t look at her but replaced his tools and closed his trunk. Then stepping up onto the sidewalk, he moved into her space faster than she anticipated. In the next second, Nate yanked her against his virile body and grabbed both sides of her head.
She only had a moment to focus on the smoldering lust that ignited in his eyes before he closed his mouth over hers.
If his first kiss knocked her off her feet, this one would render her useless for the rest of the night. She might just have to call 911 to get home. Wouldn’t Patty have a field day with that one?
Thoughts of anyone else faded out of Mary’s mind when Nate tilted her head to the side and deepened the kiss. He growled into her mouth and Mary swore she damn near came right there on the sidewalk.
A heavy, large raindrop splashed on her nose and Mary jumped. Nate straightened, still holding the sides of her head, and kissed her nose right where the raindrop had hit her.
“Another thing you need to learn,” he said, his voice low and grumbly.
“What’s that?” she whispered, not wanting the moment to end, especially not the way it did last time. Her clever idea to snare him, and all the pointers she’d given herself while driving around town to find him, had disappeared out of her brain.
“I’m always up for a challenge.” He gave her a crooked grin as his eyes danced with mischief and something a hell of a lot darker.
He wanted her. Damn it. Nate Armstrong wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
Another raindrop splashed down, this time landing at the top of Nate’s forehead. “We better get the hell out of here before we’re caught in a storm.” He glanced at the sky as he let go of her. “It sure did get dark fast.”
Mary just now noticed the black low-hanging clouds above them. She quit looking at the clouds when Nate left her standing there and hurried around to his driver’s side door. A panic attack almost caused her to stumble when she flew off the curb.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me a second time after kissing me like that.” It was all she could do not to slap her hand over her mouth after she snapped at him.
Nate reached for his car door handle and froze, lifting his gaze to hers as more raindrops started splattering around them. Mary made it to the driver’s side of her car and stopped. She’d said it and now it was time to follow through. Maybe Nate was just thickheaded enough that she needed to spell it out to him.
It was now or never. “Come home with me,” she blurted out, then hurried to open her car door, one to get out of the rain before she was soaked and two so he wouldn’t see how red and blotched her face suddenly was.
“I told my parents I would stop by,” he said slowly, still frozen with his hand almost touching his door handle and his expression locked on hers.
“Oh.” Mary didn’t have a clue what to say next. Her experience picking up men was limited at best. She opened her car and put one foot inside, then met his hard look as she gripped the top of her car door. “Fine,” she said, deciding she couldn’t have been clearer than she was. She might have lost round one, but she had no intention of giving up.
Nate wanted her and he didn’t seem the type to play hard to get. Not with the way the man kissed her. But if he had to see his parents, what the hell could she say to that? Nate was dedicated to his family, which was one of about a hundred traits in him that appealed to her.
He continued watching her when she slipped behind her steering wheel and closed her door. Mary gunned her car to life and kicked it into reverse; backing up, then shifting to drive, she pulled out around him, leaving him standing in the rain. He remained there, watching her, when she caught him in her rearview mirror. He was getting soaked as hell.
Nate begged off supper, then made his mother’s disappointed expression fade when he told her he was simply exhausted.
“Let the boy go home and crash,” Bruce Armstrong insisted, pulling his wife against him when he wrapped his arm around her waist. “Hell, Moni, he can eat with us anytime.”
“You’re right.” Monica Armstrong smiled at her husband, then blessed Nate with the same loving look. “Did you help out Mrs. Rose?”
“Yup.” He moved around his parents, scanning the counter until he found the cookie jar. It was full of
oatmeal raisin, his father’s favorite. Nate pulled out several and popped one into his mouth.
“At least let me send you home with a plate.” His mom bustled around him, humming under her breath as she quickly put together a plate with pork chops and potatoes. “God knows you probably aren’t eating right.”
“Cookies all the way.” He caught his father’s smirk as his mother scowled at him.
“You’re hopeless.” Monica grinned at him, holding the wrapped plate in one hand and going up on her tiptoes and kissing him on the cheek. “And too good-looking for your own good. When are you bringing home a bride so your father and I can start harassing you about grandchildren?”
“Moni,” his dad complained, saving Nate the trouble.
Mary Hamilton appeared in his mind, standing there next to her car as it started raining and waiting for him to accept her proposal—a proposal that could mean only one thing. The woman wanted him as desperately as he wanted her. He’d be insane to turn down an offer like that from someone as hot as Mary Hamilton. Yet he stood here instead of learning every inch of her sensual body. He had to be losing it.
“That won’t happen if I’m walking around exhausted all the time,” he informed his mother, taking the plate from her, then bending down and returning the kiss.
“Uh-huh.” His mother had the same brown eyes he had and stared at him as if she read his thoughts easily. “Go get your beauty sleep then. Not that you need it.”
“Come by this weekend and mow the yard for me.” His father patted him on the back as Nate headed to the door. “This rain will stop later tonight.”
“Will do,” he said, stepping outside and preparing for a mad dash to his car. It was coming down in buckets outside. His father always had been a self-confirmed meteorologist, and most of the time he was right.
“I swear he smelled like perfume,” Nate’s mother said at the door loud enough for him to hear.
He bounded down the porch stairs and ran to his car, knowing she’d said it so he would hear her. His mother was always good when it came to reminding him there wasn’t a thing he could pull over on her.
Feel the Heat Page 5