How to Tame a Wild Fireman

by Jennifer Bernard

  He stopped dead and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck—the exact spot she’d wanted to touch. “That doesn’t sound good, when you put it that way.”

  “Let’s stipulate that I think you can be a nice guy, when you want to. And let’s also agree that even if I was filled with scorn and maybe a little pent-up rage after that dinner at your parents—not that I ever got to eat—I’d definitely gotten past it by last night.”

  “Okaaaay,” he said slowly. “What then?”

  “That’s my question. Do we still have any reason to go out tonight? Or should I just sign on the dotted line, ‘I hereby admit Patrick’s a nice guy,’ and call it a night?”

  “Wow,” he said. He looked down at his shoes—worn cowboy boots—then off into the distance. “I’m thinking I ought to be offended.”

  She swallowed. Was she being rude? Couldn’t she be like a normal girl and go out to dinner with a cute, sexy hero fireman without lecturing? Not to mention that she’d just taken a jackhammer to her idea of sleeping with him. He’d never want her now.

  She aimed a wistful glance at the Loveless Bistro. First the Callahan family dinner, now this. Patrick’s invitations never seemed to lead to actual food. She should have brought a snack.

  Deflated, she reached for the door handle.

  Patrick stopped her with a hand on her arm. The touch made her wobble just a bit and clutch at the door frame. “But I’m not offended. Because you’re making some good points.” He narrowed his vivid blue eyes at her. “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “See through me like I’m frickin’ cellophane.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t mean to.” She ought to pull her arm away from his grip, since it was inspiring all sorts of naughty longings that weren’t going to get satisfied now. But she didn’t. In fact, she let him draw her closer. He leaned in, so she felt the heat of his body. All her female nerve endings responded to his pure, unadulterated maleness. Pheromones, that’s all it was, she thought frantically. Hormones, endorphins, serotonins, other mysterious chemicals.

  He cupped her jaw, rubbed a thumb across her cheekbone. His eyes were pure blue fire and they reached down inside her and roiled everything up like a tornado.

  “Listen to me, Lara Nelson. Maybe I do have some mixed-up idea that I need your good opinion. If that bugs you, I’m sorry. But mostly . . .” He ran his thumb across her lower lip, and she nearly staggered. “I want to talk to you. Have dinner with you. Touch you. And maybe kiss you some more, if you’ll let me. What do you say?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  In high school a date with Patrick Callahan had turned any girl into an instant object of envy. Not only was he a Callahan and good looking, but he had that wild, rebellious edge that acted like catnip on the girls of Loveless—all of Elko County, really. Lara had never gone out with him on anything resembling a date, and so far it wasn’t at all what she expected.

  After they ordered—juicy steaks, recommended by Patrick as the perfect hangover food—he turned those killer blue eyes on her, folded his arms on the table and asked her how she wound up becoming a doctor.

  She eyed him uneasily. Such a simple question, but he might not like the answer. “Because of Liam,” she finally said. “I’d been thinking about it a little before, but after the accident, that’s when I decided.”

  Her answer made him flinch, as if he was absorbing a body blow. He toyed with the silverware, his strong hands very brown against the white tablecloth. “No one ever told me about what happened after the accident. All I knew was they wouldn’t let me in and no one would talk to me.”

  “Not even Megan?”

  “I hated putting her in the middle. She kept bursting into tears every time I called her. The whole thing made me crazy. Sometimes I was afraid I’d lose it and get violent with someone.”

  The waiter brought them big glasses of ice water; neither of them wanted drinks, after last night. Lara took in the strain on his face. After the accident, she’d been so angry at Patrick. She’d never thought about what he must be going through. “Sounds like it was pretty rough,” she said slowly.

  He gave an impatient shake of his head. “If it was, I deserved it.” He took a long breath. “So tell me about Liam in the hospital.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded, pressing his lips together. Good lips, she noticed. Just the right amount of fullness, a slight stubble developing above and below. Character and humor, that’s what his lips revealed.

  “I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask, but I’ll tell you what I know. He was in a coma for a few weeks. He had a broken pelvis and some nerve damage. They had to do a few surgeries. When he finally healed enough, he had to relearn how to walk. Everything was harder because of the autism and his deafness. Your father couldn’t deal at all. It was kind of the last straw for him. I wanted to help more but he didn’t want me around because I’d been there that night. Big Dog hired a bunch of therapists and it seemed like Liam was always busy. I applied to an accelerated premed program soon after and left Loveless. I hardly saw him after that.”

  Patrick listened as though she were peppering him with buckshot instead of information. She had to give him credit, though; he took in every word and didn’t ask her to stop. “Did you keep in touch with him?”

  “For a while,” Lara answered warily. This was dangerous territory. She knew Liam didn’t want to be found. He trusted her to keep his whereabouts private. But if Patrick posed a direct question, she wouldn’t lie. Both Lara and Liam were sticklers about honesty. Time to change the subject. “What about you? What did you do after you left Loveless? I wondered.”

  His eyes lifted to hers. She shifted in annoyance; would that lance of blue flame always have such an impact on her? “You did?”

  “Occasionally. When I wasn’t cursing you out.” She smiled to take away the sting.

  “You know the basics. I went to California. Became a firefighter. I guess we have that in common.”

  “What?”

  “I decided to become a fireman after the accident.”

  The waiter arrived with their steaks. She shook her head as she cut into the thick cut of prime rib. “Funny how one night changed everything. I decided to become a doctor. You decided to become a fireman.”

  “Yeah. I’m not sorry about that part. I would have gone back to Princeton and, I don’t know, gone to law school or something. Maybe I’d be running for Congress by now.”

  Lara lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “Lord save us.”

  “Making fun of me? Didn’t you know that’s what Big Dog wanted? That’s why the accident pissed him off so much. I ruined three futures in one stroke. Mine, Liam’s, and his.”

  Lara put down her fork. Under a surface layer of lightness, she heard the pain in his voice. And something about what he’d said bothered her. She wanted to correct it, but wasn’t sure exactly how. She spoke carefully, as if walking on ice about to crack. “Why do you say that?”

  He looked genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”

  “You sound like you blame yourself for the whole thing. Like it was all your fault.”

  “Of course it was. Everyone knows that.”

  She frowned. “How do you know?”

  Patrick stared at Lara as if she was questioning whether the earth was round. “I know because I know. That’s why Big Dog kicked me out. That’s why Mom couldn’t even look at me. Why Megan cried every time I called her. And you. You said you kept cursing me out.”

  “Yeah. But not because of the accident. That was an accident. Big Dog blamed you because he had to blame someone. I was mad because you left.”

  He gripped the edge of the table. “Because I left?”

  “You left Liam when he needed you. He didn’t have anyone to fight for him. They treated him like a child, even after he got through surgery. You wouldn’t have let them do that. You walked out on him, Patrick. Callahans aren’t supposed to do that.”

&n
bsp; He bolted to his feet. If an earthquake had struck the bistro at that moment, he wouldn’t have noticed. The entire world was already rocking beneath him. “They wouldn’t let me in the fucking hospital. I figured he’d be better off without me.”

  Lara tilted her head up, the soft overhead lighting giving her eyes a fierce golden glow. She spoke with soft, devastating emphasis. “I don’t agree.”

  Patrick ran a hand through his hair, feeling his head might literally explode. “What the fuck, Lara.”

  “Everyone’s staring at us, you know.”

  He sank down in his seat. Sitting was better. Now he felt less at sea. He shook his head. This was all too much; he could only deal with one thing at a time. “Why don’t you think the accident was my fault?”

  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Well, was it? You were there, I wasn’t.”

  “I don’t remember much about it. I remember shouting something to Liam, but of course he couldn’t hear, then waking up with a bunch of paramedics around me. I tried to shove them away and to find Liam, but they were already strapping him on a stretcher.” Even talking about it made his chest tight.

  Lara pushed her plate away, as if the memories stole her appetite. “Look, whatever happened, I’m sure it was an accident. Big Dog blamed you because that’s the way he is. I never believed it was your fault, but no one cared what I thought. Why should we all have to go along with what Big Dog believes?”

  Abruptly, she leaned forward, putting her hand on his. A spark leaped between them. “Have you ever thought about talking to the firefighters who were there that night?”

  He stared at her. It had never occurred to him to do such a thing. But the fact that she cared enough to suggest it made him want to pull her into his arms and bury himself in her softness. She was so beautiful, all creamy and golden, her expression so earnest and determined.

  “I’m sure at least some of them are still here in town. You should go by the station and . . .”

  She tapered off, clearly picking up on his sudden emotion. Silence fell between them. A charged, vibrating silence.

  “What? What’d I say?” she asked.

  “I want you,” he said, his voice thick with the lust he couldn’t hide. “You have no idea how much, Lara.”

  He watched her throat move as she swallowed. His cock stiffened. God, couldn’t he have phrased it with a little more finesse? She must think he was some kind of beast. He opened his mouth to apologize, but before he could speak, she opened hers too.

  “I want you too,” she whispered, pink creeping up her cheeks.

  Finding that irresistibly adorable, he cupped his hand around her face. “You’re not still mad at me?”

  She appeared to deliberate, which, since it involved running her tongue across her lips and catching the lower one between her teeth, he enjoyed enormously. “No,” she said finally. “You were young and you did what seemed like the best thing. Besides, I can’t be mad at you. You’re too sexy.” She winked, her gold-tipped eyelashes dipping down.

  Lara Nelson, winking at him. God, he couldn’t take this. His cock pushed against the fabric of his jeans.

  “Can we get out of here now?” he asked in a growl.

  She nodded. That delicious color kept coming and going in her cheeks, and her eyes were the color of dark honey. If he didn’t get her in his bed soon he swore he’d die.

  They raced through the formalities of paying and tried not to look like crazed teenagers as they hurried out of the restaurant. Patrick drove with one hand on the wheel, the other holding Lara’s. Touching her felt so unbelievably good. He felt drunk. Who needed alcohol when Lara Nelson was around?

  By the time they reached the Callahan Ranch, the lights were out. He parked and they ran across the yard to the guesthouse. Neither said a word until they were inside and Patrick had locked the door behind him. Then they faced each other in the subdued darkness of the moonlit living room as though seeing each other for the first time.

  “We’ve been naked before,” Patrick pointed out, clearing his throat.

  “Skinny-dipping in Mrs. Jenkins’s pool, you mean? Doesn’t count. I stayed on the other side of the pool from you the entire time.”

  “You did that on purpose?”

  Her eyes widened with a silvery gleam. “You noticed?”

  “How could I not notice? I was dying to see what you were hiding under your goth girl nun outfits.”

  “Goth girl nun?” Indignant, she gave his chest a teasing push. He caught her wrist and lassoed her against his body.

  “Goth girl nun,” he repeated against her ear, while she giggled softly and squirmed. “I like the new look a hell of a lot better.” He ran his hands down her back, greedily caressing the lush curves of her ass. With a quick move he hauled her against him so she could feel the hard bulge of his arousal.

  She sucked in a breath.

  “Can’t you tell?” He loved the shiver that passed through her body. Her nipples hardened against his chest—thank God for thin tops. Unbearably aroused, he ran his hands up her lusciously curved sides. When he snuck his thumbs between their bodies to lightly flick her nipples, she gave a low moan deep in her throat.

  “What are you saying, my old outfits didn’t turn you on?”

  “Actually, they did. You don’t know how many stiffies I hid from you. Then again, I got a lot of stiffies back then.”

  He felt a hand cupping him, running down his hard length.

  “Not as many now, though?”

  “Now I know what to do with them,” he growled. “And they last longer.”

  And with that, he lifted her up and slung her over his shoulder, caveman style. That damned slit in her skirt, the one that had been distracting him all night, rode up to her ass. He shoved the skirt out of his way and clamped one hand on her upper thigh.

  “Hey,” she said in a choked voice.

  “Something wrong?” He shifted his hand onto her butt, feeling the heat of her sex through her silky panties.

  “No,” she answered with a squeak that made him smile with deep male satisfaction. He couldn’t wait to get her naked. He strode toward the bedroom he hadn’t slept in even once. Good thing it had a bed in it; he hadn’t even checked. But it was big and looked clean, and that was enough for him.

  He set her down at the foot of the bed and raked her up and down with hungry eyes. That corset top—that was hot. But the skirt had to go. He slid his hands under the waistband and tugged it over her hips. She shimmied, helping him, her hands on his shoulders. When it was in a little puddle at her feet, she stepped out and kicked off her shoes.

  Moonlight clung to her long firm legs, as if the moon was just as entranced by her as he was. He dropped to his knees and ran his tongue across the smooth expanse of her thighs. So soft, like licking whipped cream. He reached her inner thigh and surprised her with a tender bite.

  She gasped, and he felt a tremor shoot through her. He clamped his hands on her ass and nudged her legs open. He wanted to breathe in the warm scent that seemed to float from the core of her. When he brushed his face across the mound swelling beneath her panties, she made a strangled sound.

  His cock strained at the fly of his jeans.

  Not too fast, he told himself. You’ve been waiting a long time for this, and you didn’t even know it. Take your time.

  He wanted to strip off her underwear and taste her with his tongue, but instead opened his mouth and fastened it over her sex, sending his hot breath through the thin fabric.

  “Jesus,” she hissed.

  He did it again, exhaling a long stream of heat against her clit. She squirmed in his grasp. When he ran a thumb across her underpants, he found them damp with arousal. Her hand dug into his shoulders, her body shook.

  Not yet, not yet. He mouthed the words against her sex, which made her tremble even more.

  He rose to his feet and turned her around. Holy fuck, the way her ass looked framed by her corset top. He closed his eyes for a second, afraid
he’d go off before he’d so much as seen her naked. Clamping down on his need, he undid the hooks at the top of her corset to loosen it. Then he turned her around, loving the wildness in her eyes and the fast in-and-out of her breath.

  “I’ve got to see you, Lara,” he muttered, nearly out of his mind. She nodded, but when she moved to shrug off the corset, he stopped her. Utterly compelled by the enticing, moonlit curves of her flesh, he reached inside the top and drew out her breasts as if they were precious objects. With the way her skin glowed in the moonlight, maybe they were. Her breathing hitched as he ran his thumbs across their darkened peaks, then bent to kiss them. As he drew one pebbled nipple into his mouth, he pulled her toward him, bending her backward over his tensed arm. She tipped her head back, her hair tumbling over his hands.

  He wanted to eat her alive.

  Ravenous, he filled his mouth with lush flesh, swirling his tongue across her nipples, teasing, feasting, gorging on her until her breath was nothing but ragged panting. Then he stood back and looked at what he’d wrought: proud, wet nipples, her chest rising and falling, the corset erotically undone, her eyes frantic and wide.

  Growling, he disposed of her top, practically ripping apart the rest of the hooks and tossing it aside. For one moment she stood in nothing but her panties, a pool of adoring moonlight at her feet, a goddess made of hairpin curves and marbled flesh.

  And then she was on him, ripping at his shirt, fumbling at the fastening of his jeans. Together they flung off his clothes until he stood naked, his erection so full and hard it was nearly vertical. Her hands went all over him, up his chest, down his shoulders, along his cock, feeling, exploring, driving him into a maddened frenzy of lust.

  They stared at each other, panting like two racehorses. He bent to his pants, pulled a condom from his pocket and ripped it open with clumsy hands. After sheathing himself, he lifted her in his arms, spun her around and tossed her on the bed. A half second later he was clawing her underpants down her body. A thick patch of gold curls glinted at the juncture of her thighs, an oasis beckoning him onward, pulling him in. He stretched himself over her body and pinned her arms to the bed. If she touched him too much, he knew he’d lose it.