Dallas Fire & Rescue: Chasing Flames (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Fiery Fairy Tales Book 1)

by Siera London

  Chapter Four

  The Saturday morning sun was unreasonably hot against Nathan’s face. His brain vibrated against his skull like a basketball slammed into the hoop before hitting the court and bouncing against a concrete wall. Slowly, his lids peeled back from his dry eyeballs. A blue haze filled his vision. He shook his head, hoping to restore his sight to normal, but the reverse happened. The blue sharpened and intensified. Shades of blue accented the curtains, a woman’s glass-paned jewelry box, the linens, and the pillows. He’d died and been cursed to blue hell.

  Nathan extended his arms. His fingertips were maybe three feet shy on each side of touching the built-in consoles. He was in a mobile home. What had he done last night? The foot of the bed dipped. He expected to see a woman crawling up the bed. Instead, the scent of canine hit him like a bat as Max lumbered up the mattress and dropped down next to him. It must have been one hell of a date if this mystery woman let him bring Max.

  “Cujo, your breakfast is ready. Come and get it.”

  Max’s ear perked up, and so did Nathan’s. He licked Nathan’s face, hopped down off the bed, and trotted toward the partially open accordion door. Trying to clear his head, Nathan massaged his temples. The sugary scent of fresh fruit penetrated his nostrils. Nathan brought his hands to his nose. Someone had washed his hands in melon-scented soap. Glancing, he wore a different shirt from last night, his gun and holster were gone. A chill shot down his spine, he immediately started to catalog his surroundings. The bedroom was large, but only because there were pop-out extensions on both sides. Not a trailer, it was a motorhome. The previous night’s events came rushing back. The call of the fire, the alarm, he and Max searching the alleys, spotting the RV and—

  The bedroom door opened.

  “Hey.”

  Symphony stood in the doorway. Nathan’s body relaxed. Her hair combed back away from her face. A wide midnight blue streak visible in the thick strands today. Her shorts stopped mid-thigh, revealing thick legs and smooth skin. She wore a white long-sleeved T-shirt, with the inscription written in peacock blue, I Make This Look Good. He agreed. So did his body; he felt the muscles in his belly tighten as blood flowed down south, lengthening him.

  “Hey yourself,” he said. “His name is Max.”

  “First impressions are lasting,” she said with a shrug.

  “How did I get here?” Nathan asked, pushing upright. The room smelled of her and sun-warmed honey, giving the air a light, outdoorsy feel. How did she do that? Make everything feel like springtime and innocence.

  She didn’t answer his question; instead, she offered one of her own, “How do you feel?”

  “Like I was run over by a woman in an RV.”

  She winced, turning like she would walk away. Immediately, Nathan regretted his flip response.

  “Did you bathe me?”

  Her eyes rounded and redness crept up her neck.

  “I cleaned… you up,” she stammered. “Your weapon is in the drawer.” She pointed. “The shirt you had on is in the washer.”

  Whoa, she’d taken care of him while he slept. Little Blue’s actions placed her in his top slot for keepers. From the angle of her body, Nathan appreciated the roundness of the bottom he’d admired last night. Dang, her silhouette could give a man a heart attack. She was far from skinny. Her breasts were two handfuls and her backside was made for a man to grip in his hands, while he poured himself into her perfect body.

  “You like what you see?” Came her question, the tone sharp.

  Meeting her eyes, he answered in truth, “Love it.”

  “Remember it’s a long distance love affair,” she said, backing away. “Your breakfast is almost ready. Cujo is eating now.”

  Headache forgotten, Nathan sat upright, swinging his legs to the narrow space between the bed and the built-in drawers. So, Little Blue cooked for him and she liked his dog. Nathan grinned. He might have to marry her.

  ***

  Serving Nathan breakfast was a bad move if Symphony truly wanted him to be on his way, but it was nice to share her morning with him. After years of sharing the RV, the small space felt vast and empty now that she was alone. She tried to ignore Nathan as he sat at the buffet table that doubled as her guest bedroom. If she went one-second without gazing into his arresting gray eyes, she counted herself lucky. The very air was charged with heated awareness. He ate the food she’d prepared with gusto, and she secretly beamed that she contributed to his happiness in a small way. As she replayed last night’s sleeping arrangements, she felt warmth infuse her cheeks. She’d slept on the far corner of the king-sized bed with Nathan, too exhausted to move after wrestling him inside the RV. She pretended to tidy up the sink while watching him from the corner of her eye.

  “You’re even prettier when you blush.”

  Symphony’s eyes widened in surprise at his compliment.

  “Thank you.”

  “You gonna eat with me or keep picturing me naked while you scrub the finish off the sink?” he asked, gesturing to the leather-covered bench across from where he sat.

  Symphony released the sponge in her hand. Tempted by his offer, she tugged at her lower lip, biting down until pain and common sense won out. “No, you go ahead. Lunch is my first meal of the day.”

  “So, you cooked all this food for me?”

  She had. It helped to calm her nervousness to spend a little time close to a flame. “It’s just a few slices of ham, some bacon, three eggs, the last scoop of grits, and some wheat toast.”

  He scooped said grits in his mouth. The fork disappeared behind lips that called her name. Symphony ‘Little Blue’ Porter.

  “Food’s great and you ramble when you’re nervous,” he stated while licking his fingers.

  She craned her neck, watching his tongue trace his finger. Pumpkin pie, what she wouldn’t do to give that a try.

  “Or do you always string together a mile of words?”

  She gave him a narrow-eyed glance. He had some nerve. “It’s my house. Stream of consciousness is allowed.”

  “Come here, Little Blue.”

  “I’m fine over here. And that’s not my name.” She liked it, though.

  “You’re fine everywhere,” he grinned. “If you wanted me to use your name, then you should have given it to me when I asked.”

  She ignored his obvious message. Not wanting to go where he was taking this conversation. Symphony reached over her head, opening the faux wood-paneled door above the range top. From the clay canister, she pulled a honey-scented petite cigar and her Mile Marker 0 lighter.

  When she turned to face Nathan, he wore a frown. “You about to light up?”

  “Yes.”

  He took a deep inhale as if sampling the air.

  “You don’t smoke in here?”

  “Never.” She’d have to pass him if she wanted outside. He was watching her now. She could almost see the gears turning in his head, formulating, calculating.

  “This your RV?”

  “It is for now.”

  “Nice place. I never knew motorhomes came with fireplaces and leather couches.” He waited for her to say more.

  “Nothing but the best for the Hobo Alley waitress.”

  Symphony knew he had questions, but she wasn’t offering any answers. The less he knew about her the better for them both.

  “Agreed. This thing is what, thirty, thirty-three feet long?” he quizzed.

  “Coachmen Mirage Select, thirty-seven feet, give or take an awning or two. Anything else you’d like to know, investigator, maybe my shoe size?”

  Instead of getting rattled, he laughed.

  “We’ll know each other’s size and shape before the night is over.”

  Symphony broke eye contact. “Play nice, Nathan.” To keep from fidgeting, she tucked her hair behind her ear.

  “Me? That wit of yours gets sharper when you play defense. I’m harmless.”

  “Yeah, right. Let’s change the subject, shall we?” she said with a raised brow.
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  “We shall. You made the art deco piece over the door?”

  That’s not the word Symphony used to describe the wall sculpture of crushed cans and rusted tin Bethany had given her. Hideous and scrap heap fit the bill.

  “My friend works with metal. That’s one of her custom pieces.”

  “Hmm,” was all he gave in the form of a reply.

  He leaned back on the bench. His body relaxed. Symphony looked on as he polished off a second piece of toast before downing his juice. Nathan wiped his mouth with the cloth napkins her mother always used. He folded the square in half, placed it on the table all the while watching her. He had southern table manners, down to finger licking, relaxing after a good meal, and complimenting the cook. She wondered if his mother had taught him how to soften up a lady.

  “You’re a great cook.”

  “Thanks.” The silence stretched like hot Florida taffy between them. They were approaching sticky territory.

  “Now…come here,” he said, his palm pressed flat on the bench next to him.

  “Why? I can grab your plate later.”

  “You cooked for me. My momma would’ve tanned my hide if I didn’t show my gratitude.”

  So he’d lost his mother, too.

  “It’s gratitude that your plate is clean enough for me to put it back in the cupboard.” Symphony met his eyes. Big Mistake. Huge. Gray eyes heated. A molten hot steel gaze bore into her, exposing desire she had no right to crave. Shaking her head, Symphony focused on getting away from tall, dark, and so very dangerous to her heart. What kind of power did he wield over her? Whatever it was, she was near helpless to stop herself from responding to him.

  “I need to light up.” Cigarillo and lighter in hand, Symphony moved forward to pass him.

  Nathan, without missing a beat, snaked an arm around her waist. Refusing to be easy prey, Blue threw her weight forward, forcing him to release her or risk crushing her against the buffet table. “I don’t think so, cowboy,” she warned. “Breakfast is the only thing on the menu.”

  Seeing the tug of war, Max came to all fours from where he’d been lounging at the front of the cab.

  “A fighter,” Nathan growled.

  Symphony felt herself free falling. Great, she’d probably knock out her two front teeth and earn herself an emergency dental bill. She never met with the floor; instead, a band of warm muscle anchored her to an even warmer tower of male firmness. Symphony’s back was pressed against Nathan’s front from blades to butt. His burgeoning erection rubbed against the globes of her derriere.

  “It took you long enough to get here, but I have you now.” Nathan used his large hand to palm her head. The glide of his thick fingers through her hair was drugging. When he tugged her head back and upward, she was more than willing to give him everything he wanted. Slowly, his mouth covered hers. His tongue slipped between her lips, spreading her for his invasion. And invade he did. Not swift as if he didn’t belong there—no. He was toe-curling, legs trembling, core quaveringly slow and thorough, as if he was telling her and the universe, Symphony’s surrender was inevitable.

  With Nathan’s front pressed against Symphony’s back, he sucked, nibbled, and licked every inch of her mouth. When it seemed he planned to retreat, she threw an arm over her head, wrapping her fingers around his neck, holding him immobile. He started it, but there was no way she’d let him deprive her of this heady sensation. Symphony had no idea how long they lingered in each other’s mouth, but when he broke the kiss, she whimpered; once was nowhere near enough.

  “You taste—” he hesitated.

  Seconds ticked by and she wondered how he had no words to describe their kiss. Electric. Wired. Consuming. Combustible.

  “Your taste is perfection.”

  “Was it really?”

  His smirk said it all. Challenging his findings was an obvious no-no. He was on her again; this time, the kiss was greedy and demanding, punishing her for questioning his authority.

  “Oh.” The Richter Scale needle was definitely bouncing all over the page on that one. He flipped her around, so they were face to face.

  “First, I get a, was it really. Now, I get an ‘oh’?”

  It was pure instinct that had her legs wrapping around his lean hips before she locked her ankles over his tight butt.

  “Your kiss was sweet,” she murmured. She rolled her eyes at her own word choice. “Not sweet like honey,” she offered stroking his arms. “Sweet as in you’re an amazing kisser with very suckable lips.”

  A crease formed between his brows. At the confused look, she tried to clarify her previous statement.

  “Maybe a little bit of honey mixed in with all your muscles.” Nathan flat out laughed at her explanation.

  “A little bit of honey for me with a side plate of suckable lips for you, sounds like a recommended daily breakfast for us,” he grinned, placing a light kiss to her lips. Symphony responded in kind, stroking her hands over his muscled back. She liked a whole lot of muscle with her meals. Who knew?

  ***

  Nathan skimmed his thumb along the border of Symphony’s shirt. When the tip of his thumb made contact with her skin, he saw the jump in the pulse at the right of her neck. Symphony’s lips were parted. Her breaths deep, with a breathless-like exhalation. Good. They both were under the same spell. The pull this unconventional woman had on him he couldn’t explain. So much so that he preferred to kiss her rather than seek answers about last night.

  “Why are looking at me with a hungry stare?”

  “Maybe I’m hungry.”

  “I just fed you.”

  Nathan was quiet for a moment, deciding how much he should reveal. “There’s so much more I want to eat.”

  She gasped.

  He let his words sink in. Watched as her pupils dilated, imagining his mouth on her most intimate flesh. Pleasuring her until they both were boneless and satiated.

  The inside of the RV had warmed several degrees. A thin sheen of perspiration covered his chest. The heat intensified her honeyed scent, calling him to abandon good judgment and gun the engine down the road that would lead them to the blue hell bedroom with the accordion door.

  Decision made, Nathan stepped away from the wall. Symphony dropped her legs from his waist, but Nathan had her cradled in his arms before her sandaled feet could touch the ground. She yelped.

  “Put me down.”

  “Don’t think so, Little Blue.”

  Without her breasts and warm feminine heat pressed against him, Nathan stood a chance of getting a few of his questions answered.

  He approached the first tan leather captain’s chair and lowered himself down. The chair was comfortable, large enough for him to settle back without feeling crowded at his sides. Nathan placed Symphony across his legs, one arm curled around her back. With his thumb and forefinger, he trapped her chin and turned her face toward him. He didn’t speak until she raised her eyes to meet his.

  “Why…”

  Symphony’s slim fingers tracked the outline of his pecs giving him pause. Nathan swallowed several times before he pressed on.

  “Why were you in that alley last night?”

  Her fingers stilled. There was no mistaking Symphony held her breath. Her eyes were stretched wide. A vulnerability like he’d never witnessed before was reflected in those light amber eyes.

  “I—I was visiting someone in the neighborhood.”

  “Who?” Nathan didn’t try to control the demand in his voice. Had she been with another man hours before bringing him home?

  She tried to jerk her chin free of his grip.

  “That’s none of your business,” she warned.

  A growl erupted from his throat. “The heck it isn’t when you let me kiss you like that. I don’t share, Symphony.”

  She smiled, rather than bristled. “It’s not like that. It was a business call.”

  “That lasted until eleven o’clock at night?”

  She looked away, unable to meet his eyes.


  “Drop it, Nathan. You’re the only man I’ve ever kissed.”

  His pulse thudded in his veins. He must have misunderstood. “Say that again.” He gripped her chin, angled her face until he could look into her eyes.

  She stilled. “I meant tasted… shoot, I meant kissed. You know what, that’s all you’re getting from me about last night.”

  A blush of red spread across her cheeks, and Nathan’s ego loved the physical response of her telling him about their first kiss. He couldn’t resist stealing another.

  She took one for herself, all soft and full of innocence.

  “Answer me one more question.”

  “All right, what is it?” She looked suspicious, but not calculating.

  “How did Max get the jump on you to the tune of me sprawled out in front of the RV?”

  “I must have dozed off. Cujo scared me.”

  Max stirred in front of the door, clearly not appreciating his share of the blame.

  “That normal after a night of visiting your friend?”

  The corners at the side of her eyes were pinched, but Nathan would not regret posing the question.

  “If you’re asking if I’m involved with or sleeping with another man, then just come right out and ask.”

  “Are you involved or sleeping with someone?”

  “I thought I was semi-involved with you. Now, I’m thinking that’s not true.”

  “There’s no semi- or part-time with me.”

  She nodded her head in agreement. Thus far, being with her was easy. Was there a hidden camera in the back, a pop celeb waiting to scream, You’ve Been Punk’d? Women were never as acquiescent as Symphony.

  “So, we’re on the same page in one regard, investigator?”

  “I believe we are.” Nathan sighed when she settled into the protection of his arms. She still ran her fingers over his chest, like she couldn’t stop touching him.

  “I want to spend the day with you.” Nathan felt a small tremor rack her body. Was he asking too much too soon? They’d just met, true, but he felt as if he’d known her for years. Like their lives were joined across time. No woman had ever drawn his attention so fast and complete.