In The Heat 0f The Night (The O'Roarkes Duet Book 2)

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In The Heat 0f The Night (The O'Roarkes Duet Book 2) Page 4

by Katherine Garbera


  It was just as a soft as he’d imagined it would be. He wrapped one strand around his forefinger and tugged on it.

  She parted her lips. He reminded himself this was a bad idea. Then decided, to hell with it.

  He lowered his head and she surprised him by wrapping her hands around his neck and kissing him. She rubbed her lips over his and then lightly bit his lower one, drawing it into her mouth. He slipped his hands down her back and cupped her butt, lifting her off her feet.

  He stopped thinking, letting himself be seduced by her soft hot mouth as it moved over his. She kept her hands on his jaw as she tipped her head and thrust her tongue deeper into his mouth. He wished he’d shaved so he could feel her fingers on his skin and not through the stubble.

  He leaned back and lifted her off her feet so that she was pressed to him. His cock stirred and started to harden. Earlier that day, he’d tried not to stare at her breasts through her wet shirt the entire time they’d been sheltered near the barn. Now he was getting his reward for being so noble.

  He had her in his arms. Her breasts were pillowed against his chest and he liked it. He slipped one hand up her spine to the back of her neck, feeling the soft skin at the base of her neck. She pulled back and looked into his eyes. That cinnamon gaze of hers was intense.

  She stared so steadily, he knew she was searching for something but he had no idea what.

  “You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “No, ma’am.”

  She shook her head, then, framing his face with her hands, she came up on tiptoe and kissed him again. This time, he thrust his tongue deep into her mouth and she sucked strongly on it. He felt an answering pulse in his groin.

  He groaned, tightening his hand on her backside. Damn, things were getting out of control.

  But once he pulled his mouth from hers, he missed the feel of her lips against his. She had her eyes half-closed as he forced himself to step away from her.

  She opened her eyes and looked at him. That steady stare that told him absolutely nothing. She was good at hiding what she was feeling.

  And he really had no time for a distraction. Sex, maybe. But Meg wasn’t the kind of woman that a man simply had sex with and walked away. Or at least, she wasn’t for him.

  “Goodnight,” he said.

  “Goodnight, Rory. Thanks for dinner.”

  He nodded, then quickly walked away. He got on his Harley and rode off in the direction of the condo he was renting. But he knew that there wasn’t enough road to help him sort out what was going on in his head.

  How had one slight woman rattled him so badly, so quickly? As if he didn’t have enough on his plate . . .

  Chapter Four

  A WEEK WENT by without hearing from Rory. Meg wasn’t too upset though—she was busy working toward getting the Clapham place. J.P. had sent her a list of potential alternate places for Rory to consider. And she’d done a little more research into his past.

  It seemed that he’d quit the force right after being awarded a bravery citation from the city of Daytona Beach for his work during a large house fire. Rory had gone back in to rescue one of his own guys.

  She tried to reconcile her vision of the guy with whom she’d had dinner with someone who had that kind of courage. His actions seemed more like something out of a movie than something that happened in real life. But then she thought about her dad, who had never hesitated to go into a difficult situation.

  Her phone rang at 8:30 while she was in the middle of writing a blog for her Wrinkles in Time website. She’d been named after one of the main protagonists in Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time, and her sister had suggested using the book title as inspiration since Meg found most of her ideas for the site in old items.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, Meggie, it’s Mom.”

  No one else in the world except her family called her Meggie. “What’s up?”

  “Joan is out today. One of her kiddos has come down with a fever, which leaves me short-staffed for our summer camp. I was hoping you could help me out.”

  “What’s the age group?”

  “Four, five and six-year olds. I know you haven’t been a teacher in years, but it’s like riding a bike. Besides, you did renew your license, after all. You might as well use it,” her mother added cheerfully.

  More than anything, Meg’s parents wanted her to stay in Twin Palms. They’d made no secret of it at dinner on Sunday and she knew this was her mother’s way of trying to help. And she loved her for it. “Okay. What’s on the agenda for today?”

  Meg saved her blog and put her computer on standby, then walked to her bedroom to get changed. One thing about the Starlings—they always had each other’s backs. This was no different than manning the refreshment booth when the cops had squared off against the firefighters at beach volleyball. Her mom needed her and she wouldn’t turn her down.

  “They are going on a field trip today, so really, all you’ll need to do is be there to supervise. You’ll even get a free lunch out of it,” her mom said.

  “A free lunch? Is it one you packed?”

  “Yes, it is. Greek salad and some fresh baked brownies.”

  “Sounds great,” Meg said. Her mom was a wonderful cook. She’d learned from her own mother, who’d once owned the diner that Anne had taken over. “Did you pack enough for two?”

  “As it turns out, I did.”

  “Did you know last night that you’d need me today?” she asked, beginning to suspect she was being played.

  “Um . . . maybe. I was trying to get someone else to come in, but everyone was busy. I need you, Meggie.”

  “Okay, Mom.”

  “Can you be here by 9:15? The field trip is a visit to the fire station,” her mom said.

  Of course it was. But that was okay. She was a grown woman and could handle seeing a hot guy, one she’d kissed and not go crazy. Really, she could.

  She quickly showered and pulled her hair into a ponytail. She loved the look some women could pull off with a thick fall of bangs, but her hair was naturally curly. And in the Florida humidity, that meant that no matter what she did, she looked like Little Orphan Annie.

  “Why does it matter?” she asked her reflection. But looking into her own brown eyes, she knew why. He hadn’t called. And because of that, she wanted him to see what he was missing. She pulled the elastic from her hair and shook her still-damp tresses, finger-combing them.

  She shook her head at herself as she walked out of the bathroom and finished getting dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a sleeveless blouse. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror only reinforced what she already knew. She might fantasize about a man like Rory but in real life, they were worlds apart.

  RORY WAS SWEATING and it had nothing to do with the ninety-degree heat outside. He had been lying in his bed waiting for the fire bell to sound. It had been more than three years since he’d been out on a call. He’d been retrained, so he knew he had the skills and knowledge he needed to keep his crew safe. But at the same time, fear of not being able to cut it anymore was never far from his mind.

  It had been the same the first time he’d gone into a fire after he’d become engaged to Natalie. Before then, he’d never worried about his safety. His old man had been fighting fires his entire life and was still hale and hearty. On the other hand, his mom, a stay-at-home goddess, had been killed in a traffic accident three miles from their home.

  So rationally, he understood that no matter how prepared he was, when his time was up, that was it. But until he got the call for a serious three-alarm burn and handled it the way he knew he could, he was going to worry.

  “You up, O’Roarke?” Tim Carrow asked.

  Tim, like Rory, was new to the station and had yet to be tested. But Rory had been a firefighter befo
re. Tim hadn’t, though he’d been an EMT. Many a great firefighter started out as an EMT.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Captain wants to see you,” Tim said.

  “Thanks.” Rory rolled out of bed, and within minutes was down knocking on the captain’s door. His dad had insisted that all of his kids be quick to get out of bed. Rory shook his head, remembering some of the old man’s bordering-on-sadistic drills.

  “Enter,” Captain Joe Malone called out.

  Rory opened the door and poked his head in. “You wanted to see me?”

  “I did. Come in and sit down.”

  Rory did as he was asked, shutting the door behind him. He sat in one of the two armchairs stationed in front of the captain’s desk. They were covered in some kind of fabric that was itchy even through his clothes. Rory guessed no one wanted to spend much time sitting around in the Captain’s office.

  “How are you finding things here?” Joe asked.

  “Good,” Rory responded. Had the captain sensed his uneasiness?

  Joe nodded. “I thought so. You are fitting in well with the other guys. Helping us beat the cops at volleyball definitely helped.” He smiled.

  “My brothers and I used to play all the time. I’m an old pro,” Rory said, wondering where this was leading. He’d never known any captain to call a man into the office just to chitchat.

  “So . . . I need an experienced guy to help me out today.”

  “With what? Testing fire extinguishers?”

  Joe continued to smile. “Summer camp tour.”

  “Little kids?”

  “Four to six year olds.”

  “My favorites,” Rory said with a grin. To be honest, he didn’t have a problem doing firehouse tours. It gave him something to do besides sit around and wait.

  “Really?” Captain Malone asked.

  “I like kids and I grew up in a firehouse. So I’m kind of a natural. And you never know. One or two of these kids could grow up to join us one day.”

  Captain Malone nodded. “You’ll do. They should be here in about fifteen minutes.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  “Just a warning . . . They all want to go down the fire pole.”

  “We don’t have one, do we?”

  Malone stood up. “I’ll show you. We had one built in the back, especially for tours.”

  Rory followed Malone out into the mid-week heat. He walked behind the main fire station where the two big engines were kept to a small brick building with stairs on the outside. There was a door at the top and when they got up there, he noticed a platform with a hole in the middle of it. And a firefighter’s pole.

  “I haven’t been down one of these since I was a kid.”

  “Most of the guys haven’t,” Malone said. “Not many firehouses have them anymore. Think you can handle it?”

  “No problem,” Rory said, jumping on the pole and sliding down. For a minute, he felt a tremor of excitement in the pit of his stomach. The sense of being right where he was meant to be.

  He stepped away from the pole and opened the door that led outside. Moments later, the Captain came down the pole too, a big grin on his face. Once a fireman, always a fireman.

  “I think you’re all set now. Do a good job and we might let you be the mascot when school starts again.”

  “Mascot?”

  “We send a few guys out to the schools during the year. One lucky guy gets to dress as Smokey the fire dog.”

  Rory shook his head. Touring kids around the station was one thing, dressing up like a big dog—thanks, but no thanks. “That’s not really my thing.”

  “Then make sure you don’t piss anyone off.”

  Rory followed Malone back to the firehouse and went into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. He wanted this to be his home, the place where he belonged. The only thing holding him back was his fear about facing that first fire. Because he’d barely made it out of the last one.

  Once he proved to himself he could still do the job, the restlessness that was making the back of his neck itch would go away and he’d be able to settle in.

  He heard the sound of kids’ voices and realized his tour group was here. He got a few sympathetic nods from the other guys in the kitchen, but he just smiled and went out to meet them.

  He was expecting to find about ten to fifteen little kids and their counselors. But the first thing he saw were Meg’s cinnamon-colored eyes.

  He knew then that it wasn’t just worry about his first fire that was causing his restlessness. She was, too. He’d been trying to deny it, but when she stood so close, it was impossible to deny that he wanted her.

  He’d been pretending that he’d kissed her goodbye for good once he’d gotten all the information he needed. But that one dinner had merely whetted his appetite. And seeing her again reminded him that he was piss poor at lying to himself.

  MEG BROUGHT UP the rear of the group, while her friend Jenny took the lead. The kids were pretty excited about being at the fire station. Meg had to admit she was, too.

  She’d missed Rory. She might have been researching him to uncover a weakness as far as their property battle was concerned, but she’d also come across a lot of stuff she wanted to ask him about.

  Like that fire in Daytona, when he’d been honored for running back into a house after his fallen comrades.

  Still, she really didn’t need to know about that. It had nothing to do with the only thing she was interested in—the Clapham place.

  But in her mind, it was the key to understanding him. J.P. had been sending her a lot of alternate properties, but she needed to find the one that Rory couldn’t say no to.

  “Hello, everyone. I’m fireman Rory,” he said.

  There was a chorus of hellos in perfect singsong, which always made her smile. Kids in small towns had been taught to greet adults that way for years.

  “How many of you have seen a fire truck before?”

  A few hands went up. Jenny’s nephew Brant was in the group. Since Paul worked here, he’d been to the fire station before. When she’d been a teenager and their middle school had visited the police department and jail, Meg had been in the same situation.

  “That’s good to know. We are going to start by touring the firehouse. I’ll show you where we eat and sleep and train.”

  “What kind of training do you do?” one of the girls asked.

  “Mainly strength training using weights. We also practice getting our gear on and getting on the truck. And we have fire drills just like you do at school.”

  “Do you have to line up outside?” another kid asked.

  “We do, but not like you all do,” Rory said. “We all have a special job to do if there is ever a fire here.”

  “At school, I was in charge of getting Pixie out,” a child said.

  “Who is Pixie?” Rory asked as he led the way to the kitchen.

  “Our class pet hamster,” the little boy answered.

  “That’s a big responsibility,” Rory said.

  Jenny turned to Meg as they followed the tour. “He is good with the kids. Not everyone is. But he seems to be really enjoying them.”

  Rory continued the tour, pointing out the first aid station. “Have you ever been hurt?” a girl asked.

  “I got trapped in a fire once but my crew had my back and I got out. No scars,” he said. “That’s why we practice all the time. So no one gets hurt.”

  The child nodded up at Rory. “I’m glad.”

  “Me too,” Rory said, patting her on the head.

  Meg was struck by his words. Sure, she knew that being a fireman was dangerous, but she hadn’t realized just how dangerous until that moment. Maybe he needed the Clapham place to work on so he’d be too busy to remember. She watched him
carefully the rest of the tour, trying to figure out the real reason he’d quit three years ago.

  At dinner, he’d said that it had been because his ex hadn’t liked his job, but she sensed there was more to it than that. Or maybe she just wanted to believe that because then, maybe, she’d find something that made him seem more like her. More human. More flawed.

  From where she stood, he looked invincible.

  They toured the fire truck, each of the kids taking turns sitting behind the steering wheel with one of the other firefighters. Rory came over to stand next to her.

  “So, did you volunteer just to see me again?” he asked with a teasing grin.

  “Well, not exactly. I’m helping my mom out today.”

  He glanced around. “I don’t see anyone old enough to be your mother here.”

  “She runs the summer camp program through the library. She’s the head librarian.”

  “I see,” he said. “No, I really don’t. How’d you end up here?”

  “I’m a teacher by training and my parents want me to feel like I’m still a part of Twin Palms so I’ll stay here,” Meg said. “But I am glad I came.”

  “Missed me, did you?” he asked, winking at her. Wearing his Dickie’s uniform pants and a slim-fitting Twin Palms Fire Department T-shirt, he looked good. And she had missed him.

  Of course, she’d sort of seen him almost every night in her white-hot dreams. It had been a little too long since she’d been with a man. That was the only reason, she tried to assure herself.

  But she wasn’t entirely convinced. Rory’s big body was sexy, but it was his charm and his wit that made him so compelling. The way he’d been self-deprecating and honest at dinner. He’d surprised her.

  She rolled her eyes but the truth was, yes she had missed him. “Sort of. Seeing you in the fire station puts a lot of things in perspective. Besides, I’ve got some business to discuss with you.”

 

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