Her Real Man (Rescue Me Collection Book 0)

by Natalina Reis

  The red truck, lights flashing, came around the curve and headed to my house. My heart was beating so loudly I could hear it over the shrieking of the sirens. I so hoped they got here in time to save my humble abode. As they parked the truck, several firemen jumped out of it, immediately immersing themselves into a frenzy of activity. Some were unrolling the hose while others held on to—were those axes? Oh, my God! Were they going to break through my vintage windows and doors? If they have to, silly woman. Do you want the house to burn down?

  A short firefighter, covered from head to toe in the not-so-fashionable beige-orange uniform, strode toward me. As he approached, I realized he was a she. Her helmet hid most of her face, constantly sliding forward as she walked.

  “Ma’am, where’s the fire?” I looked at her stupidly, and then back at my house. Strange, I couldn’t see any smoke anymore. “You said the kitchen, right? Is that in the back?”

  I also couldn’t smell anything burning, which was even stranger since I knew that smell all too well from all my past kitchen disasters. “Yes, the kitchen. There was a lot of smoke.” Suddenly I felt I needed to justify their presence there, since it was becoming increasingly more obvious there was no fire at all.

  She tried to scratch her head but couldn’t slide her fingers under the helmet. “We just checked the kitchen in the back and there is some smoke but no fire. Are you sure?”

  I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. I clutched the laptop even tighter. “Well, I never saw flames but there was a lot of smoke… and the alarm was going off….” Hell, my cheeks were on fire. Maybe they could try to put that out. “Can you double check?”

  “We can break in through the porch in the back….”

  No, no way! I didn’t want them ruining my screened porch. “I can unlock the door for you.” She frowned, wrinkling her nose as if she had smelled a rat. “Or I can give you the keys.” I handed her my house keys and watched as she waved a couple other firefighters to the front door.

  The next few minutes seemed to stretch forever, waiting on the lawn for them to emerge from my burning house. By then I was beginning to doubt if there was even a small fire, much less one that would burn my house down. The uniformed firefighters came out and joined another one waiting outside. I couldn’t help noticing how they were laughing and slapping each other on the back. Oh God! I was going to be the laughingstock of the neighborhood. There was no fire.

  “Miss, all is well. We turned off the oven and aired out the kitchen.” The voice of the approaching fireman was very familiar, caressing my ears with its warmth. “Just a case of overcooked chicken.”

  I could hear the amusement in his voice and prickled like a porcupine under attack. “I’m glad you find it amusing, but I couldn’t tell. There was a lot of smoke.”

  The tall man stepped closer and removed his helmet, brushing his fingers over very messy dark hair. My heart stalled and I had to cough. This was the green-eyed guy from my research foray to the firehouse a week or so ago. Now I was truly embarrassed.

  “Don’t I know you?” His gorgeous eyes were scanning my face, his eyebrows knitted together.

  I took a deep breath, feeling an urgent need to fan myself furiously, and dared myself to look him in the eye.

  “Yes, Ana Mathews. The writer.” If he didn’t remember me I was going to have to set myself on fire. With all those firemen here, there was no chance I would actually burn too badly. “I ate with you guys at the firehouse the other day.”

  His face, well-defined cheeks and all, opened in a brilliant smile. “Of course, Ana the writer.” Phew, he did remember me. “So glad to see you again, even if in… strange circumstances.” He was too sweet. What he meant was “an idiotic false alarm that brought all of us hardworking firemen to your house to put out a piece of charred chicken.” I liked him. I really liked him.

  “It seems I need some cooking lessons and some guidance on how to distinguish a real fire from a false alarm.” I giggled a little, embarrassed that my second meeting with this man would be during a full-blown show of how much of an inept idiot I was.

  Gavin waved a big hand in front of him. “It’s a lot more common than you think.” Was he being kind, or were there really a lot more idiots like me? “You’d be surprised how many times we get called and it ends up being nothing. Which is a good thing, by the way. A false alarm is way preferable to a real fire.”

  If he said so. I wasn’t going to contradict him. I was too busy staring at his gorgeous emerald eyes. It was like staring into the depths of a forest and guessing the richness of life within. I made myself a mental note to write that line down for one of my novels, and smiled. “I have a lot to learn about firefighting.” And then some.

  He lowered his voice and bent toward me. “I could help you with some research. Maybe we could go out to dinner one of these days… or lunch.” His smile took over his face and made the corners of his eyes crinkle. Not so average Joe after all. “As long as you’re not cooking.” His wink made me laugh.

  “No chance of that happening.” I would never in a million years attempt cooking a meal for anyone else but me. “When?” Excited didn’t begin to describe how I felt at the mere idea of having an intimate meal with this beautiful fireman. He may not be exactly the average man I was looking for, but I was very willing to explore the possibilities.

  “What about this Friday? I’ll be done with my shift, so I will be out by four. I can pick you up at six or seven.” He licked his lips and my insides melted. I bet they tasted amazing. Stop, dummy. “After all, I know where you live now.”

  I giggled like a ninth grader who had been asked out by a senior to the Prom, and I may even have batted my lashes. “Six thirty?”

  “It’s a date.” My heart did a little jig inside my chest. Someone called him from the truck and I noticed the lights were on again. “Uh-oh, gotta go. They’ve called us. See you Friday.” He took off speeding toward the already moving firetruck, and leaped onto the running board. Before he climbed inside, he turned around briefly and waved at me.

  Oh, shit! Was this really happening? All these years writing about handsome men falling in love with equally perfect women, and I was falling for someone who was a lot closer to the characters in my books than I ever would be. I was looking for a real man. A real man. Not a construct of imagination or wishful thinking. A man with a face that didn’t come from the hands of a classic sculptor, with a body that had a bit of flab here and there, and didn’t make a model look shabby by comparison. Gavin may not be muscled like Hulk or pretty like Legolas, but he sure didn’t seem to have many physical flaws. I hadn’t seen the rest of his body yet, true. The two times I’d seen him he had been inside those bulky, ugly overalls. For all I knew, he may have crooked legs and mismatched hips. There is hope still.

  Who was I kidding? I wanted those legs to be perfect and the hips to be the narrow frame for a sexy butt. I’m so screwed.

  Red Wine and Kisses

  Gavin

  The hot water flowed down my face, and my muscles immediately relaxed. I flattened my hands against the tiled wall, shifted my weight to lean against them, and allowed the shower to massage me, washing away the ashes and soot covering my skin. Even though the fire had not been anything major, the wind had sent the ashes spiraling over everything and everyone. From the corner of my half-closed eyes, I glimpsed the grayish water swirling like a tiny tornado into the drain by my foot.

  Under the caress of the water, my mind wandered to one of the first calls of the day. It had been a strange case of mistaken fire-identity. I laughed under my breath, recalling Ana’s face, flushed in embarrassment as she realized her kitchen fire was nothing but a piece of burnt chicken in the oven. I had the urge to cup her cheeks with my hands and kiss those tempting lips of hers. Instead I had asked her out on a date. What was I thinking? She was older, and almost certainly not interested in casual sex. I was on a mission to live my life to the fullest, and being tied down into a relationship was not part of t
he plan. We might as well be from different planets. Yet—

  Fuck! My body responded to the memory of her ivory skin and full well-shaped lips, and I was hard as a rock in seconds. The curve of her generous breasts peeking from the unbuttoned top exploded in my mind as vividly as if she were standing in that shower with me. Of course, the thought of her under the running hot water next to my naked body just made things harder for me—so to speak. I don’t need this right now. Only my body didn’t seem to care. It wanted her.

  In desperation, I turned the faucet to cold and screamed as the chilled water replaced the hot. That should do it, I hoped. A few minutes later, I hopped out of the shower and wrapped myself in one of the large white towels my mom had gifted the firehouse with. Why couldn’t I take my mind off the little writer with the heavenly lips? Why was I this excited about a date with a woman I knew would want so much more than what I was willing to give?

  The firehouse was quiet. Jackson was the only one up, standing watch for incoming calls while the rest of the squad slept. I slipped between the sheets of my bed after putting on a pair of thin joggers, and closed my eyes. Like a skilled thief in the dark, sleep evaded me, dreams of the brown-haired romance writer not affording me a moment’s peace.

  I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and tiptoed to the kitchen, where Jackson stood by the microwave heating up a cup of coffee.

  “Hell, Jackson. Why don’t you brew a fresh cup? Reheated coffee has to be the most disgusting thing in the world.” I snatched another mug from the counter and headed to the coffee machine, limping a bit. My leg was sore tonight, obviously not too happy with the long stretch without a rest.

  “What are you doing up, dude?” Jackson frowned at me. “You’re going on almost fourteen hours without a rest.” I had taken on a few extra hours for another fireman who had gotten sick.

  I raked my hair with my fingers. “Can’t sleep.”

  Jackson laughed. “A certain writer in your brain?”

  Well, that was surprising. Was I that obvious? “What are you talking about? I’m just too hyped up to sleep.”

  “Bullshit.” He snorted just as the microwave beeped. He took the hot mug from inside and blew on it. “You couldn’t take your eyes off her this afternoon. You looked like my golden retriever staring at a T-bone.”

  Coffee pod in place, I pressed the brew button on the machine and inhaled deeply, the wonderful scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting up to my nostrils. I was very tired, dizzy even, but Ana wouldn’t leave me alone.

  “How old do you think she is?” I almost bit my tongue, but I trusted Jackson with my life. His opinion mattered to me.

  “I have no clue. Thirtysomething, I’m guessing.” He took a sip of the steaming liquid and wrinkled his nose. “This is disgusting.”

  I laughed and handed him a coffee pod. “Make a fresh one, idiot.” Jackson waved my hand away. He was known for being thrifty and stubborn. “Come on, man. How can you drink that junk?”

  “It’s perfectly good junk,” he said, taking another sip of the reheated coffee. “No use in wasting good coffee. And if you’re wondering if she’s too old for you, I’m pretty sure she’s not. You guys are three, four years apart, tops.”

  My thirty-first birthday had come and gone a few months ago. I was far from a kid, but I was hell-bent on living like one. If my accident had taught me anything, it was to enjoy every minute of my life and waste no time or opportunities.

  “We’re going on a date.” There, it was out. “Not sure it’s a good idea.”

  Jackson frowned. “Why not? You’re obviously hot for her, and she blushed every time you looked at her. Go for it.”

  “She’s not that kind of girl.”

  “What kind? She’s flesh and bone.”

  “Not the kind I normally go out with.” The coffee slid down my throat, soothing the smoke irritation out of it.

  “You have a kind?’ Jackson laughed and poured the rest of his coffee in the sink.

  I stood, favoring my good leg, mug in hand and thoughts flying out toward Ana again. How would her soft body feel wrapped around mine? I shivered, pleasure running like electricity through my veins. My friend stared at me, his eyes and mouth wide open.

  “Fuck, you got it bad, man!” I wanted to protest, but he was right. I had it bad. “It’s about time you find a good woman and settle your ass down.”

  My hackles came up, sharp and deadly. “Why do I need to settle down? Because of my disability? Is that what you guys think, that someone needs to take care of this cripple?”

  Jackson raised his hands in appeasement. “Whoa, dude. No one’s saying that at all. You’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. I just meant it’s nice to have someone steady in your life, someone you can trust and who’s there for you when you need it. Like me and my wife.”

  I blew out a heavy breath, releasing the tension that had so suddenly bunched up in my chest. I was being a dick. “Sorry, Jacks. I was out of line. I know what you mean.”

  Fuck! Still sensitive about it even after all this time? Despite living a perfectly normal life, I still sometimes thought of myself as a cripple. Old scars healed slowly, apparently.

  My friend and coworker took a step toward me and tapped me on the back several times. “It’s all right. We all have our sensitive spots.” He laughed. “Even me.”

  I glanced at him and smiled. “You have a sensitive spot? What would that be? The size of your head?” We all joked about his head, which was a weird, almost conical shape, but he always seemed to take it in stride.

  “I’m proud of my cone head,” he said, feigning outrage. “I’m not telling you what it is.”

  My eyes widened as an idea came to me. “Shit! Is it the size of your—?”

  He raised a hand in front of my face to stop me. “Don’t even say it! Or I’ll punch the daylights out of you.”

  Laughter bubbled out of me in an unstoppable stream. “Oh my God! It is!” Jackson had turned beet red, and I may have been imagining it, but I could swear I saw smoke coming out of his ears. “Your secret’s safe with me, dude.”

  I couldn’t stop laughing, and eventually he joined in, his hands holding his stomach. The phone rang from the office and Jackson ran to answer it while I washed the two coffee mugs we had used, still chuckling under my breath.

  The sound of the alarm rang through the house. Three pulses in a row. Well, there wasn’t going to be any more sleep tonight. A three-alarm fire somewhere. Reluctantly, my exhausted body and I made our way to the ready room, where I quickly changed into my uniform and put memories of the alluring Ana somewhere on the back burner of my mind. Later. I would sort that issue later.

  ***

  Ana

  The dizziness was not getting any better. I continued to blow into the paper bag, but my anxiety attack just seemed to thrive on the challenge. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this.” My litany of negative thoughts and words kept pouring out of my head and mouth like the effects of mental dysentery. I was having a hard time pulling myself together. Cute and tall Gavin would be at my door any minute to take me out on a date, and I was a mess of nerves and ill-disguised doubts.

  The doorbell rang, and I almost jumped out of my skin. I had changed at least ten times, but for a moment I considered changing again. Smoothing out invisible wrinkles in my floral sundress—oh God, did I look a little too flowery and girly?—I slogged my way to the door as if my feet had grown attached to concrete shoes.

  Not the fool I often appeared to be, I cautiously looked through the peephole and found the rather handsome face of fireboy Gav. Yes, I had already given him a nickname, a bad sign that meant I was getting a bit too attached to the idea of him. I swallowed the bile that had gathered in my mouth and unlocked the door.

  The beige fireman pants—were they called overalls?—were not what I was expecting to see him wearing. Not exactly date gear. I suddenly felt overdressed. “Oh, I thought we were going—”

  Gavin looked down
at himself, spreading his arms and hands apart. “Sorry. I was on call and didn’t have time to change.” He looked up at me and gave me a blinding smile. Oh, boy! He was more than handsome. This guy was gorgeous. At least that’s what my eyes were telling me. “If you don’t mind, we’ll stop at my place on the way to the restaurant so I can change.”

  Wait! Stop at his place? I was going to go inside this god’s abode? And wait while he got undressed in the next room? My heart and other equally sensitive areas of my body were all aflutter.

  “Sure. I don’t mind.”

  He offered me his arm in an oddly old-fashioned but oh-so-charming way, and we walked together to his car, a pea-green Wrangler that looked way too high for my short legs to climb. I must have looked hesitant, because he swept me into his arms and gently set me down in the passenger seat. I was so surprised I wasn’t sure I actually thanked him out loud.

  “So, am I going to be in your next book?” He slipped into the driver seat with the ease and smoothness of a cat. “Are you going to give me one of these new beards and a tattoo?”

  I laughed as he started the car and merged into the traffic. “What makes you think I would put you in my next book? And a beard?”

  A stolen glance in my direction made my stomach somersault inside. “I may not read them, but I see the covers of all these romance novels. The guys are all big, muscled, tattooed, and with big beards.” He was not totally wrong.

  “Well, I want to write a real man as my hero.” It slipped out before I realized I was going to say it. Heat flowed into my face and neck.

  “Like Jackson? The guy that was sitting across from you?”

  Now why would I write about someone else when I could be writing about Gavin with his gorgeous green eyes, thick lashes, and luscious lips? True, I hadn’t quite seen the rest of him, always stuck inside those ugly, bulky clothes, but he didn’t walk with a limp and he was strong enough to pick me up. Something told me the rest of him was as pleasant.