Flirting With Danger

by Claire Baxter

  But hell, it had been difficult to get the taste of her out of his mind over the last week, and he still hadn’t achieved that feat. It was weird. He’d kissed more women than he cared to count, and none of those kisses had been so memorable that he woke up at night thinking about them. This was the first time he’d found himself with such a problem.

  It was as if a lightbulb had been switched on last Saturday, and no matter how he tried, he couldn’t find the switch to turn it off again. Setting eyes on her today had only served to reinforce the knowledge that he wanted a repeat performance, but as much as he might want it, he couldn’t have it, and he would do very well to remember that fact this evening. Jasmine wasn’t just some woman he’d met in a bar; she was the very last woman on earth he should be fantasizing about.

  The skinny teenager calling his name startled him from his mental dithering, and he went to the counter. “Thanks, mate. I was miles away.”

  “She must be hot,” the guy said with a cheeky grin.

  Aaron twitched his eyebrows and tilted his head in acknowledgement, his smile wry. He took the pizza boxes and jogged with them back to his car. All he was doing was providing sustenance, because even if she didn’t believe she needed help, she deserved it after the day she’d had.

  There was another reason too. He had a favor to ask. Pizza and beer might go some way toward putting her in a good mood so that she’d agree to help him. He didn’t fancy his chances otherwise. He didn’t know any other woman who could handle what he needed her to do, but that wasn’t the only reason he hoped she’d agree—he genuinely wanted to spend some time with her away from work. Right now she was the only woman he did want to spend time with.

  …

  Jasmine had taken the world’s fastest shower and wasn’t sure it had completely obliterated the smell of the paint thinners with which she’d removed the worst of the stains from her hands. She’d scrubbed them till they were red, and her hair was still wet and dripping on her shoulders. The important thing was she’d managed to change into jeans and a T-shirt that was probably two sizes too big.

  Cover-up clothes. They should have made her feel more relaxed, but strangely, sitting here on the old, crazy-paved patio outside her home, she felt every bit as exposed as she had in her skimpy painting outfit. Exposed in a different way, though. She was in her personal space here, and she rarely shared it with anyone, much less a mouthwatering man.

  Eating with him here, like this, was something she could never have predicted. She ate with him day after day at the fire station. They had a roster system for cooking meals, and were encouraged to dine together around one large table in order to promote the camaraderie and family-style bond that helped them work together so well. But there, they were part of a large, noisy group. Teasing and joking were the norm. Exactly like being part of a family, in fact. Whereas this…this seemed intimate somehow. As if just by being here he would learn everything there was to know about her. More than she wanted him to know.

  Aaron helped himself to a slice from the wood-oven pizza sitting between them on the wrought-iron table that she’d unearthed—literally—from a compost heap at the bottom of the garden not long after moving into the house. She’d cleaned it up, added a pair of chairs she’d found in an antique shop, and with grape vines trailing overhead, she often sat out here and imagined she was in France.

  Would he laugh at her if he knew that?

  “It’s been a strange week, hasn’t it?” Aaron said before taking a bit of pizza.

  After watching a trail of cheese all the way to his mouth, she gave herself a mental slap. “I’ve had better weeks.” She huffed out a short laugh. “In fact, I’ve had better dental surgery.”

  In addition to what had happened on Saturday night after the wedding, then the tension between her and Aaron at work, the job itself had been frustrating. That was what being a firefighter was like—some days it was just sitting around, waiting, checking equipment, cleaning the station; others, it wasn’t.

  On Tuesday, they’d fought a factory fire. Two of the crew had been taken to hospital—one had been treated for a knee injury and would take months to recover, while the other had suffered heat stress—the building had been too badly damaged to save, and something like that always left a hollow feeling. Not a sense of failure, exactly, but a definite dissatisfaction that despite people being injured, there was no positive result to show for their efforts.

  Worse still, on Wednesday there’d been a bad road traffic accident, and it had taken them a frustratingly long time to extract a young mother and her injured children from the wreckage. Their teamwork had saved lives, no doubt about it. Even so, the victims had suffered for longer than any of the team would have wished, making it difficult to be satisfied with the overall outcome.

  She let out a heavy sigh. “Something to do with the alignment of the planets, I guess.”

  His eyebrows rose. “I’m surprised you believe in all that astrology stuff. Doesn’t seem like your sort of thing at all.”

  “No, it’s not, but Sasha believes in it, so I must be channeling her. She always has a reason for what’s happening. One planet is going backward and two others are meeting up. The way she talks about it, you’d think they’d need traffic lights up there with planets whizzing around all over the place.”

  He chuckled. After a moment, he said, “Talking of Sasha…Kane tells me he’s taking her out again.”

  “So I gather. They’re going out tonight. Did Kane say anything else?”

  “Like what? Whether his intentions are honorable?” He grinned.

  “Well, yes,” she said, refusing to feel stupid for being concerned about her friend.

  He shook his head. “No, he hasn’t said anything, but I very much doubt it.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Look…he likes her, but he’s a young bloke taking out an attractive woman. Whatever his intentions are, they’re completely natural, I’m sure.”

  “Huh. He’d better not hurt her—”

  “Or he’ll have you to deal with. I already told him so.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, I thought I’d better warn him. He’s quite attached to his various body parts.”

  “Hmm. Well. Good.” She chewed on a mouthful of pizza.

  As if it had been waiting for a quiet moment, Aaron’s mobile phone rang. He gave her an apologetic glance before answering, and then Jasmine was forced to sit by, pretending not to listen, while some woman tried to convince him to meet her. Although she could only hear his end of the conversation, it was clear what was going on.

  There was only so much to look at in her back garden. She’d studied the lemon tree, the lawn, the birdbath, and the grapevine, so she went inside to fill a jug with iced water. She returned in time to hear him gently but firmly turn the caller down and end the call. She was quite impressed, actually, by how patient he’d been with someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer. But then he’d had plenty of practice at handling women, hadn’t he? He sailed through life, taking his pleasure where he wanted, and yet he didn’t have hordes of women out for his blood. Because he knew how to handle them, obviously.

  He slipped the phone into his pocket as she set the jug and two glasses on the table.

  “Do you have to go?” She nodded at the phone.

  “No.” He looked up. “Do you want me to leave?”

  Shrugging, she said, “You’re not stopping me from doing anything important. You must have plans, though. It’s Saturday night, after all. You always go out on Saturday night if you’re not working.”

  “True.” He reached for another slice of pizza. “Still, if it’s all right with you, I’ll hang around for a bit longer.”

  “Makes no difference to me.” In contrast to her casual words, her heart raced as she filled both glasses with water before sitting down. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Who?”

  “The woman on the phone. Why don’t you want to meet her?
”

  He gave her a wide-eyed, innocent look. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

  “Yes, you do. Repeatedly. How else would I know all about your girlfriends?”

  “Oh. Well, in that case…she has this habit of using finger quotes in all the wrong places.”

  Jasmine screwed up her face. “What?”

  “She says things like, we went out to ‘dinner.’” He wiggled his fingers in the air as he said the last word. “Now, what is with that?”

  “Did you go out to dinner?”

  “Yes, and it was very nice too. Nothing wrong with the meal.”

  “Then, I have no idea, but it sounds like a hanging offense.”

  “It’s very off-putting.” He shook his head, then grinned. “I solved the problem.”

  “How?”

  “By keeping her hands full.”

  She choked on her water.

  Laughing at her expression, he shook his head. “You shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” he said with mock disapproval.

  When she stopped coughing he jerked his head toward the house. “What’s next?”

  “Hmm?”

  “With the house. What’s your next renovation task?”

  “Oh.” She dragged her mind back from inappropriate thoughts and turned toward the house, blowing out a breath. “Well, I have to start on the outside next. Out the front I want to relay the tessellated tiles on the front porch, create some sort of garden from the chaos out there, and put up a fence. I think I’ll start with the tiles.”

  “And will you be getting help with that?”

  “Are you offering?”

  He hesitated. “I might be.”

  What? She’d expected him to say, Hell, no.

  “Why would you do that?”

  His expression was unreadable as he leaned forward, planting both elbows on the table and folding his arms. “It might be fun. Like doing a big jigsaw.”

  “Huh. You could buy a thousand-piece jigsaw and do it in the comfort of your own home, if that’s what rings your bell.”

  “Okay, I have to confess, I’ve got an ulterior motive. I’m trying to get on your good side, but you don’t seem too impressed.”

  “You could promise not to tell anybody about last Saturday. That would impress me.”

  “Done deal. I thought we’d agreed on that already?”

  “I wasn’t sure. I never know when you’re being serious.”

  “I’m completely serious about that, and…there’s something else I’m serious about.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on? You’ve never wanted to get on my good side before.”

  “I’ve never needed to ask you a favor before.”

  “Intriguing. If it involves buying lingerie for one of your girlfriends, forget it.”

  He grinned. “Nothing like that. I need a partner for…an outing.”

  “And? That’s not difficult for you, surely? You have women hanging off you like barnacles most of the time.”

  “Well, it is a problem in this case. You see, I can’t think of anyone who’d be willing to take part in this particular type of activity.” He shrugged. “Except you.”

  “Me? Good grief. I’m almost loath to ask…go on, tell me, what kind of activity is it?”

  He cleared his throat. “Paintball.”

  She stared for a moment, then laughed. “You mean, where people run around shooting paint at each other? I can see your problem. I couldn’t imagine any of your bimbos doing that.”

  “Thanks, I knew you’d do it.”

  “Hey, wait a minute. I didn’t say I’d go. So, this is why you came round today, and this is the reason for the pizza and beer.” She took a drink of water. It made things easier, knowing that he had a selfish reason. Now she wouldn’t have to lie in bed tonight, wondering why he’d been so thoughtful.

  “It’s your sort of thing. You won’t have to dress up. No heels, no makeup,” he said, counting off items on his fingers. “And best of all, you’ll get to shoot me.”

  “You do make it sound tempting.”

  “Thing is, you see, it’s going to be boys against girls, and each team needs a leader.”

  She sat back and crossed one leg over the other. “Who are these boys and girls?”

  “They’re kids who need a second chance. Some are teenagers, some are in their early twenties. None of them are bad kids; they’ve just made some bad decisions. Now they are doing their best to turn their lives around.”

  She studied his face for a moment. “And why are you taking them to paintball? Why you specifically?”

  He shrugged. “Oh, you know. I promised someone. It’s a charity thing. No big deal.”

  “So, I get to shoot you, and in return, you’ll help me tile the front porch. You really are desperate, aren’t you? I hope she’s worth it.”

  He gave her a blank look. “Who?”

  “Whoever you’re trying to impress.”

  “Who says I’m trying to impress anyone?”

  “Oh, come on. I know you, remember?” Except…she didn’t know that he worked with kids on a voluntary basis, did she? Could it be that there was another, better side to him, one she knew nothing about? Because someone who volunteered with troubled teenagers couldn’t be as self-centered as she’d always thought. If she agreed to go to paintball with him, she could find out more.

  She took a slow breath, considering her options. “All right, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  “Thank you.”

  He reached a hand across the table and as she leaned forward to shake it, she realized that in agreeing to the deal, she’d committed herself to spending her spare time with him, a couple of days of it, at least. Was she crazy? His warm hand closed around hers and the way her skin tingled confirmed her suspicion that yes, she was.

  Oh, well, she’d agreed now. There wasn’t much she could do, except remember that he wasn’t someone she should get ideas about.

  He went to fetch them both another beer, and while he did that, she took the opportunity to clear away the remnants of the pizza. As she dumped the box into the wheelie bin at the side of the house, she caught sight of Aaron through the window. In her kitchen. At her fridge. Why did the picture look so right when it should strike her as all wrong?

  As he bent down, his jeans parted company with his T-shirt, tanned skin on display in the gap above the denim. Then he reached into the shelf, one arm resting on the top of the fridge door, and his T-shirt stretched across his back, his biceps revealed as the sleeves rode up.

  She groaned under her breath. Oh, yeah, it was going to be really easy to see him outside work. She shook her head and took care as she lowered the wheelie-bin lid not to alert him to her presence at the window. She did not want him to think she’d been ogling. Even if she had.

  Chapter Five

  Jasmine’s heart was thumping so hard she was sure it was audible above the cacophony around her—the raised voices of firefighters trying to make themselves heard over the screaming and yelling of bystanders, barking dogs, the workings of the water pump, and the roar of the fire itself. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from the door of the burning home, because Aaron was inside. Alone.

  Two in, two out was the rule. Steve had gone in with him, but Steve was now being treated by paramedics, and crew leader John had deemed the house too dangerous for anyone else to enter.

  Aaron and Steve had gone in to ventilate the house and hit the hot spots. As they’d approached the door, a frantic woman had run screaming up the street claiming her children were inside. Why they were alone in there was a question that would be asked later.

  Steve had brought out a young boy. Conditions had deteriorated. Aaron hadn’t reappeared.

  This was the situation they all dreaded. They were highly trained, skilled, and careful, but in a fire, anything could happen. Walls could fall down and often did. Things could go bad in a matter of seconds.

  More of those seconds ticked by. Jasmine, her eyes fixed on the d
oorway, could do nothing but remind herself to breathe every now and then.

  Someone called out Aaron’s name an instant before she saw him in the doorway with a bundle in his arms. Her heart lurched sideways. The bundle moved. A child’s face appeared, and her heart flopped back into its proper place leaving her free to breathe naturally again.

  The child’s mother cried out with joy and relief.

  Jasmine knew how the woman felt. She wanted to scream too, but she didn’t. She kept her joy and relief tucked away inside like the professional firefighter she was.

  After Aaron had handed over the child to the waiting paramedics and removed his breathing apparatus, his eyes met hers across the chaotic scene. She gave him a nod, then went back to her task at the pump, aware the whole time of where he was, of what he was doing.

  Several minutes later he made his way over to her.

  “Took you long enough in there,” she said, her tone deliberately businesslike.

  “Sorry.” He gave her a small smile, which told her more than a full report would have about the seriousness of the situation he’d been in. “I didn’t realize you had to be somewhere, or I would have hurried it up a little.”

  He leaned against the truck, inhaled deeply, tipped his head back, and exhaled. “Cute kid. Apparently, whenever something happens that scares her, she hides in the laundry basket. That’s where I found her, and fortunately for her, the laundry basket was full of damp towels. That’s what saved her.”

  Jasmine shook her head. “She’s a lucky little girl. Not many of us would even think to check inside a laundry basket.”

  “You can bet I will in future.”

  There was a moment’s silence. Her fear had been justified; she saw the confirmation in his eyes. He wouldn’t say it aloud, and she wouldn’t ask. They both knew the dangers.

  She turned away to hide a shudder at the recollection of those anxious minutes while he’d been inside the house. Losing a colleague had always been the worst-possible scenario, the outcome they all dreaded. But today, her fear had been off the scale. Her stomach was still churning from the tension.