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

by Katherine Garbera

  He rubbed his lips over hers before slowly kissing her as if it wasn’t five-thirty in the morning. As if they had all day to remain in each other’s arms.

  “How about we just go over for the day? We’ll come back tonight, and tomorrow, I can help you with the house.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Then yes! I like that idea.”

  “Good,” he said. His hands roamed up and down her body and he made love to her one more time. After they finally got out of bed and showered, they stopped by her house so she could change, and before long, they were headed to Daytona Beach. But Rory didn’t head straight to the track. Instead, he took her to the firehouse to meet his old posse and then drove by the ruined hull of a burnt-out warehouse.

  “What is this place?”

  The both took off their helmets and climbed off the bike. He slipped his hand into hers.

  “You know those doubts I’ve had at work?”

  She nodded, afraid to say anything in case it stopped him from sharing whatever it was he wanted to get out.

  “They all stem from this place and this fire.”

  “I read about it online. The mayor gave you a citation for bravery,” she said.

  “When did you do that?”

  “When I was trying to outbid you.” She winked. “I was trying to get the inside edge.” Then she became serious. “So what was it about this fire that was different?” She followed him as he walked toward the building. He stood in the charred entryway, looking up and seeing something she couldn’t.

  “What I’m sure you didn’t find online was the fact that I also got suspended by my chief for my actions that day. I went back in after it was deemed too dangerous and my filter was getting low. But I couldn’t leave until everyone was out of the building. I thought I could do it.”

  “And you did,” she said. She knew there was more to the story than he was saying, but what was it? “Talk to me, honey.”

  “I guess honey is okay now that we’re lovers?”

  “I thought so,” she said. “But don’t change the subject. What was different about this fire?”

  He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Nat and I were engaged at the time. She was always telling me that if I really I loved her, I’d quit the department. It was too dangerous. And I wasn’t about to let her be right. I had to prove that, no matter how dangerous the situation, I could handle it. And I did.”

  “But you didn’t,” she said. “You let her get into your head. She messed with your self-confidence and now, instead of believing in yourself, you’re still trying to prove something.”

  “You think so?”

  “I do.”

  He turned away from the building to face her. “How can you be sure?”

  “Hollis did the same thing to me. He made me believe I didn’t have it what it took to make my dreams a reality. I believed him because he said he loved me. And I thought he knew me best.”

  “Love can really screw with your head.”

  “Yes, it can,” she agreed. But she had a feeling that the right kind of love, the type that wasn’t toxic, could make a person stronger.

  Even without any words of love being spoken between them, she already knew she was stronger with Rory by her side than she’d ever been with Hollis.

  “Thanks, honey,” he said.

  “For what?”

  “Listening. And for coming with me today.”

  “Thanks for asking me until I said yes,” she said with a smile. “Besides, don’t forget that you volunteered to do some hard manual labor.”

  “I’d do anything for you,” he said.

  She felt something pass between them. Neither of them said another word, but as the day went on, they stayed close together. Meg couldn’t help wondering if the bubble of happiness she felt might just last.

  But once they got back to Twin Palms, he got an emergency call. And, instead of asking him to stay with her, she forced a smile and waved him off to do his job.

  The job he’d already admitted he would risk his life to prove he could do.

  MEG HADN’T SAID another word about the warehouse in Daytona. Or what he’d confessed to her. And that was just fine with him. Really it was. But he knew she must have thought he’d been reckless.

  He still felt reckless now, even though he understood why he’d felt the way he did.

  He’d returned from the firehouse late last night. Since Meg was working and it was his day off, Rory headed out to the house to help her, as he’d promised.

  He hadn’t been out this way since he stopped bidding against her, and he couldn’t believe the changes. The first thing he noticed was the newly-graveled road that led to the house and the weathered wood sign with “Spring Home” neatly lettered on it. He parked his bike in front of the house and noticed that a fresh coat of white paint had been applied to the porch and railings. The window shutters were painted a cheery yellow color, and, as he opened the door and stepped inside, he noticed that a lot more than the exterior had changed.

  “Hello!” he called out as he walked down the hall toward the back of the house.

  “Out here,” Meg said.

  He saw her in the back yard doing something with a pile of pallets. Behind her, two horses grazed.

  He walked over to her and kissed her to see if she’d let him. He knew he’d disappointed her when he’d gone into work last night, right after they got home from Daytona.

  She gave him a quick peck, and then turned back to her pallets.

  “What are you making?”

  “A bed swing. I was going to wait for Pat to help me, but I can’t do any more work inside until the inspector comes and approves what we’ve already done.”

  “How are you making this bed?” he asked. “And how much weight is it supposed to hold?”

  “Yours and mine,” she said with a wink. “It’s going to hang from that tree and be draped with mosquito netting so that we can sleep under the stars.”

  “I like the sound of that. What do you need me to do?”

  “Help me assemble the frame around the pallets,” she said. They worked well together, moving boards this way and that. Making sure the bed was sturdy enough to hold their weight.

  This was the kind of life they could have if she wasn’t so hellbent on leaving. He hadn’t realized, until now, just how much he resented the fact that she was following this dream of hers to New York.

  He knew it wasn’t fair of him to feel this way. When she’d told him that his job scared her, he’d simply answered that he was good at it and she accepted that. Why couldn’t he do the same for her?

  This might seem like the perfect life for them for now, but he knew they’d grow to resent each other if they had to give up their callings. And, as he listened to Meg talk about the house, he realized that this was what she was meant to do.

  “You never told me why you didn’t get your show before,” he said as he fastened some heavy-duty pins into the tree to hold the bed.

  “I was part of a duo. I worked with a guy who was good at the heavy lifting, and I was supposed to do the decorating. But when we got to New York, the producers wanted us to change how we worked to fit the format of their show. Hollis refused to compromise.”

  “Fair enough, I suppose.”

  “I agree. Unfortunately, he was a jerk about it. The producers didn’t like his attitude so they gave us an ultimatum—do what they asked, or walk away. I agreed to compromise, but Hollis walked.”

  “Wow. What happened then? You guys were in a relationship, too, weren’t you?”

  “Yes. We had a huge fight. He told me I’d never go anywhere in this business, so he dumped me and moved out to the west coast. To start over.

  “Th
e producers were happy to keep me on, but since I couldn’t do the show by myself, I ended up as a production assistant and then a set dresser for a couple of their main stars.”

  She said it like it was nothing. No big deal. But she’d stayed there for five years trying to make it work.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. At least I didn’t run into a burning building.”

  “Like I did?”

  “Yeah. I think we both took risks. You with your physical safety, and me with my career. After that episode, I started to believe what Hollis had said, that I couldn’t do it on my own.”

  Rory climbed down from the tree and hugged her close. “A wise woman once told me that you can’t let someone get in your head.”

  “It’s easy to tell you what to do,” she said, with a laugh.

  “Ready to hang it up?”

  She nodded, and, using the pulley he’d installed in two locations on the tree branch, they strung the ropes through and lifted the framed pallets off the ground. Once it was up, she said, “Let me go get the netting to keep the bugs out.”

  “Not yet. Let’s make sure it can stand up to the weight,” he said, lifting her by her waist and setting her on the smooth plywood that covered the pallets. She gasped and held her breath as he let go.

  The bed held.

  “Okay, your turn,” she said, scooting back. The bed swung a bit as she moved. He grabbed the stepladder and climbed up until he could sit down next to her on the pallet. They both looked at each other.

  “If we fall, it’s going to hurt,” he said.

  “Yes, it is,” she agreed.

  But the bed held. He couldn’t help realizing that, although they both avoided talking about falling in love, each day, he knew he was closer to doing it.

  MEG PULLED TO a stop on the side street closest to the fire station. It was August. Summer wasn’t close to waning—the heat still soared up into the upper nineties every day.

  She’d been thinking of following her mom’s advice about asking the Captain if she could take a class with the volunteer firefighters. That way, maybe she’d stop having nightmares each time Rory was on shift. But then she caught sight of Rory, and her mouth went dry.

  It should be illegal for a man to look that good. She’d never really thought of herself as a sexual person. But since Rory had come into her life—and her bed—all she could think about was keeping him there.

  Her dreams were vivid and hot. In the middle of the night, she no longer cared that he had a dangerous job. But in the cold light of day, fear swallowed her up. So she did things like this. Sat outside the firehouse, hoping to catch a brief glimpse of him.

  The men were in the back of the firehouse as the sun started to set, washing the fire truck in orange light. Pat had told her that there was no such thing as downtime at the firehouse. The men were constantly working to keep everything up to standard. Tonight was no exception.

  She’d learned a lot about what it was like to be a fireman from Pat. It was easier to ask him questions while they worked on her house than it was to talk about it with Rory.

  Rory was washing the left side of the truck. He’d taken his shirt off and his uniform pants hung low on his hips. As he bent over to scrub the wheel, she stopped breathing.

  His muscles rippled and droplets of water danced on his skin in the fading light of the sun. She reached out to touch him, but her hand hit the glass of her side window, startling her. In her mind, she was running her hands over his naked back. From this distance, she couldn’t see the scar she knew was at the base of his spine or feel the roughness of that damaged skin, but her fingers tingled all the same.

  He straightened up and moved away to let one of his crewmen rinse the truck. She bit her lip, knowing it was time to leave. She’d seen him, so why was she here?

  She had no idea. But she couldn’t bear to be away from him. He was a part of her. And leaving him was going to kill her.

  Rory turned to say something to one of the other firefighters and saw her. She’d been made. She should gun it and leave, but she didn’t want to.

  She wanted to stay and talk to him, just to make sure he was okay. Insanity. It was almost over. Why couldn’t she move on?

  She got out of her car and walked over to where the men were working. Rory didn’t say anything, so neither did she as she walked into the station.

  Cheri Ann was on dispatch tonight and sat behind her desk. “Is the Captain in?” Meg asked.

  “No, he’s not. Can I help you?”

  “I’d like to sign up for a citizen’s firefighting class, if you have one. Just something so I can understand what it’s like to work here.”

  “Are you thinking of volunteering?”

  “I might,” Meg lied.

  “I’ll leave a note for the Captain and have him get back to you.”

  “Thanks,” Meg said, turning to walk back to her car, head down and desperate to get out of there.

  She bumped into a wall of solid damp flesh. The way the hands fell to her hips to steady her, she knew before she looked up that it was Rory. His eyes were stormy tonight, and he took his time, letting his hands slide down the sides of her thighs before he stepped back.

  “Easy there.”

  “Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “It seemed like there was nothing wrong with your attention when you were ogling me. What are you doing here, honey?”

  “Just checking on something,” she said, hedging. As much as they’d talked lately, neither of them had mentioned her leaving or his job. It was as if they both wanted to just keep things light. But, by ignoring the problems, they somehow seemed bigger. “And I wasn’t ogling you.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Damn, Red, you always surprise me.”

  He clapped her on the shoulder, then walked back into the firehouse. But as he walked by her, she slapped him on the rear end. He paused and looked over his shoulder at her.

  In his eyes, she saw the same confusion that she felt. That same sensation that it wasn’t over between them.

  “You got something else to say to me?”

  “Just that you’re looking good,” she said. “I miss having you help me in the back yard. Do you feel up to a picnic dinner at the house tomorrow night?”

  “I’d like that,” he said.

  But before they could talk any further, the fire alarm went off and he sprang into action. She got out of the way as the men piled into the truck and pulled out. She watched it go, praying that Rory would be safe.

  Chapter Twenty

  RORY PULLED INTO Meg’s driveway just before six a.m. It had been a long night, and the fire had drained him. He’d never been so happy to have his shift end. He knew he shouldn’t wake her up, but he needed her tonight.

  Needed her to remind him that he was still alive.

  He sat there on his bike, unsure what to do next, but then her front door opened and she stepped out to greet him. It looked like she hadn’t slept a wink since he’d left her last night and he knew. They couldn’t keep pretending with each other. They had to talk about her leaving and his job. More importantly, they needed to figure out where they wanted to go from here.

  He got off the bike and before he could say anything, she ran over and threw herself into his arms. He hugged her closely, feeling the warmth of her tears against his neck. He carried her into the house and closed the door behind him. Leaning back against it, he just cradled her closer to him and realized that it might be too late to talk.

  There was no easy way to fix this. They’d both been operating alone for too long, instead of talking to each other. Rory was afraid it might be too late.

  “You okay?” he asked, carrying her into the living room and setting her on the couch while he took a seat
in the armchair across from her.

  She wiped her face with the sleeve of her pajamas and nodded. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I was worried the entire time. And I realized that if something happened to you, no one would know to call me.”

  He nodded. “I can add you to my contact list. But if this is just for the summer . . .”

  “I don’t think it is, though. Do you? I mean, what I feel for you is so intense that sometimes I can’t breathe. I have been trying so hard to guard my feelings, but the truth is, Rory, I love you.”

  He was knocked on his ass by her confession, as well as by the fact that she’d just blurted it out. But that was his Meg. Always brave enough to say what was on her mind.

  “I care about you, too,” he said. “But if you’re leaving, I don’t see how this can work.”

  “But long-distance relationships can work.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not what I want. When you and I were making the bed swing, I realized I wanted that to be our house and our backyard. I want to make a life with you here in Twin Palms, Meg. Not travel back and forth, just to see each other. I realize that I’m asking you to rethink your dreams, but there must be a way for you to still do your show and not have to leave.”

  She shook her head. “There isn’t. I’d have to give up everything I’ve been working toward for the last three months. And I’m not even sure that a relationship between us could last. Yes, I love you. But the fear that grips me each time you go out on a call is overwhelming.”

  “I can’t quit my job. It’s who I am.”

  “Yet, you just asked me to quit the very thing that makes me who I am.”

  He felt cornered and didn’t like the fact that she was making a little too much sense. “It makes you who you want to be—not who you are. You came back to Twin Palms after failing to make it big, remember?”

  “Yes, I do. Thanks for pointing that out,” she said. “So, I guess what you are saying is that it’s okay for me to give up everything but not you. Is that it?”