Bad Boy's Kiss (Firemen in Love Book 2)

by Amy Starling

  I tried not to cry, because if I did, then I'd be showing my hand. He'd know I wanted more out of him in the end than sex – and I couldn't afford to ruffle his feathers right now. Not now, when I needed him the most.

  We sat at the table, and I pulled out a notebook for us to review. In it, we'd written tidbits about our lives, personal things that nobody else would really know unless they were close to us.

  “Feels like I'm studying for a test,” Max joked. “I guess in a way, I sort of am. Only if I fail this test, your father will wring my neck.”

  I paged through the notebook. “We have favorite foods, color, music, books... Actually, I'm surprised you even read books at all. Back in high school, you were too busy racing cars and drinking the beer you got with your fake ID.”

  “Aw, gimme a break. I told you I can change.”

  “Except when it comes to women.”

  He had nothing to say to that. I wished I could bite my tongue, but I guess it bugged me more than I wanted to admit.

  “All right, let's do a pop quiz.” I slammed the book shut. “What's my favorite kind of music?”

  He answered right away. “Adult alternative, hard rock, and jazz. But you hate country, which is surprising given you run a dang chicken farm.”

  “Breakfast cereal?”

  “Crackling Oat Bran.” He sighed. “The most expensive cereal in the store. With a pinch of cinnamon sugar and raspberries on top, which means you might as well be eating dessert, by the way. Uh, that's fine and all, given you're eating for two now.”

  “School subject?”

  “You wrote down literature and home ec. But for some reason, you forgot to mention what a huge band and theater nerd you were.”

  “And the only thing you wrote was 'football.' Unfortunately, I don't think football counts as a subject.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “I think we'll pass your family's sniff test just fine. We argue exactly like a married couple, and we've only been under the same roof for a few days. I imagine after eight weeks, we'll be trying to kill each other.”

  “Then they shouldn't have any trouble believing it.” I opened the book to a random page. “You didn't answer all of the questions. Like this one: what's your biggest goal in life?”

  “I couldn't decide on just one.”

  “Well, you have to answer, so pick.”

  He gazed outside, to his RV. “Not so long ago, my friend Jayce and I had big plans to travel the country together. We were gonna head west to California in that RV. Maybe spend a couple years partying, chilling on the beach, having fun with girls. Just... enjoying our youth while we still got it.”

  “So what happened?”

  “He got married, which obviously put a stop to those plans.” His laugh had bitterness in it. “I'd already bought the RV, too. Somehow, traveling by myself just didn't feel the same.”

  “One day, you'll find a new friend who'd travel with you. A woman, maybe.”

  He erupted into laughter. “If I went on an adventure with a woman, I'd make it no more than fifty miles before wanting to strangle her. Uh, no offense.”

  “Either you're looking at the wrong women, or maybe you're not the best travel companion yourself.”

  “That's where you're wrong. I'm fun as hell and if something goes wrong, I know how to fix it.”

  He stared at his legs. Maybe he could fix anything – except for those broken bones. No wonder he looked so helpless.

  “Anyhow, for your biggest goal...” He inspected the page. “A big farm of your own, lots of land, some milking cows, and a handful of kids. Well, that's refreshingly simple.”

  “What do you mean, simple?”

  “A lot of the women I meet don't have big dreams like you do. They're only concerned with buying things – clothes, makeup, cars – or nabbing a man who can fund their retail addiction. Just listening to them prattle on about it all makes me tired.” He studied me. “I can see you're not that way. It's nice, that's all.”

  He looked at me with something resembling awe and disbelief. It kind of embarrassed me, but honestly, made me feel pretty good, too.

  “Imagine if you went to New York. The women there are probably a hundred times worse.” I inched my chair closer to his so I could read the notebook too. “Not all, but a startling number, are incredibly materialistic. That drove me bonkers after a while.”

  “I can see that. Obsessing over your wardrobe just ain't your style.”

  “Right. But not only that, they're so ambitious and success-driven that they managed to make me feel inadequate.” My shoulders fell. “Just like my mom and dad.”

  He huffed. “You, of all people, should be feeling perfectly adequate.”

  I appreciated his comment, but he'd never understand. He had no idea what it was like to grow up with perfectionist parents, who naturally demanded the same out of their kids. He didn't know how much it hurt for them to favor Rachael, even though they never came right out and said it.

  “So,” he said, clearing his throat. “They'll be curious about the accident. You gonna tell them you give me sponge baths and wipe my ass when I use the bathroom?”

  I punched his arm. He just laughed; with all the painkillers he was taking, he probably didn't even feel it.

  “What? The nurse seemed to think that's what we were gonna do. That's your job, don't you know, as my 'wife.'”

  “I wouldn't wipe your ass even if I was your wife. There are people you can pay for that sort of thing.”

  His jokes were crude; his attitude could have been better. Even so, I enjoyed talking and laughing with him. For the first time in forever, I didn't feel alone. Not even Rich had managed to make me feel so... happy?

  He rolled his chair over to me, so close I could smell his musky sweat mixed with a delicious hint of cologne. Who knew a simple aroma could make me so outrageously wet?

  “You know, I think we got this couple thing down pat. There's just one more detail we haven't done enough practice on yet.”

  “What's that?”

  “The kiss.” His voice was a throaty, sexy growl. “Better learn how to make it look good for the cameras, hmm?”

  He lifted my chin and brought my lips to his before I had a moment to protest – as if I even would.

  Now, just like the first time he'd kissed me pressed up against his RV, my body flooded with warmth and a primal need that could only be met in one way.

  I wanted him, craved him, and felt as if I'd go crazy if I didn't have him inside me right damn now.

  His tongue explored, dancing in my mouth until he made me gasp with desire. Then his grip on my arms tightened; he wrapped himself around me in an eager embrace, holding me captive as if to say that for now, at least, I was his.

  We broke apart and breathed deep, both aware that something big had changed between us.

  This wasn't supposed to be happening, was it? I should never have slept with him; never should have opened that can of worms. Him living here was supposed to be a favor, an arrangement between friends, nothing more.

  “I must say,” he whispered. “I don't usually kiss the girls I bring home.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don't know. The idea of it makes me feel uncomfortable, I guess.”

  “But you're here kissing me now.”

  He tensed. “You're not like them.”

  “You have no idea what you want, do you?”

  “Maybe you're right, darlin'.”

  I reached for him again, and he for me. The ringing doorbell interrupted us, followed by an intrusive banging on the porch window.

  “Oh, Anna! Where are you?” More knocking. “One of your silly, dirty chickens ran in front of the car. I think your father might have hit it – there was such an awful noise – but it's in the bushes now...”

  Max exchanged worried glances with me. He squeezed my hand.

  Would they notice my protruding belly? What would they say about me shacking up with a guy I wasn't married to?


  In all of this, just one thing was for certain: I had Max by my side to get me through it.

  For the first time in my life, I started letting myself trust him. What else could I do? That was my only choice. I just hoped he didn't let me down.

  “Anna, open the door right now! How could you be so rude to your guests?”

  “Time to face the music,” I said, forcing a laugh.

  “We'll make it.”

  I believed him.

  Chapter 12 - Anna

  I opened the door. Mom sashayed in wearing a red dress that looked completely out of place on the farm. I wasn't surprised. She'd always hated country living and described the people here as “poor, stupid rednecks.”

  “Anna, my baby!” She gave me a hug, choking me with her intensely cloying perfume. “It's been far too long. If only you'd move to San Diego with us. Then we could visit all the time.”

  Behind her were dad and Rachael. They were deep in some important discussion, so busy talking that dad didn't even seem to notice me. It felt like my childhood all over again.

  Mom slapped dad's arm. “Daniel, pay attention! Your daughter is waiting to say hello to you.”

  Dad looked up at me and made himself smile. His teeth were perfectly straight and white, salt-and-pepper hair neatly styled, and his skin almost orange from spending too much time in a tanning booth. His fancy suit was a good accompaniment to mom's hundred-dollar dress.

  “It's great to see you again, sweetie. I love what you've done with the property.” He peeked into the living room. “A bit kitschy for my tastes, but it's got that adorable country charm nonetheless. How's your farming hobby? Still making money?”

  I bristled at his insistence that my job was a hobby. If this farm was Rachael's, he'd have been all over it. He would have helped her turn the damn thing into a ranching empire complete with one thousand head of cattle.

  Me? Nope. Just a hobby.

  “Oh, daddy. She's doing just fine.” Rachael giggled. “She sells her stuff at the farmer's market. Did you know she's keeping bees now?”

  His gaze fell to my stomach for just the briefest moment, but it panicked me anyway. I saw the question in his eyes. Thankfully, he chose not to say anything.

  “Bees? Yes, that's wonderful.” He turned back to Rachael. “So, when are you and Trey coming to California?”

  Max chose now to make his grand entrance. I had no clue if Rachael told them he was living with me. If not, they were about to get a great big surprise.

  “Hi there, Mr. and Mrs. Southwell.” He grinned in his charming way and held up a pitcher. “Would either of you like some fresh-brewed iced tea?”

  When mom saw him sitting there in the wheelchair, she yelped and backed away as if she'd seen a rat on the kitchen counter. Dad stopped his rambling conversation and stared at him blankly.

  “Max.” Mom's tone turned cold and snippy. “What on earth are you doing in my daughter's house?”

  Before he could answer, a car pulled up in the driveway. Seconds later, Trey walked through the door.

  “I see everyone's here. I can't stay long; gotta get back to work, but –” He paused, finally noticing the thick tension in the room. “Oh, hey, Max. Is that some of your famous iced tea?”

  “It sure is. No vodka in this one, though. You'll have to add that yourself.”

  Mom looked like she might faint. Lovely. We'd only just gotten started, and his big mouth was already getting us in trouble.

  Trey, smart man that he was, ushered Max away. “I'll take a glass. Come on.”

  “I demand an explanation for this.” Mom snarled. “You know what he did to your sister.”

  All he'd done was sleep with her once and bail. It wasn't like they were dating or anything. He'd made her no promises; she knew his reputation. And it happened in high school, besides.

  Of course, Rachael acted like he'd killed her puppy. The way she cried and carried on and got all depressed for a whole week, she had mom eating out of the palm of her hand. I was starting to doubt whether anything Max said or did would change her image of him.

  Maybe our half-assed plan wasn't such a good one after all.

  “And you know what kind of guy he's like,” dad added. “He's rude, arrogant, selfish, with no class whatsoever.”

  This was it. Moment of truth.

  “I'd appreciate it,” I said loudly, “if you didn't talk about my boyfriend that way.”

  The room went silent. Everyone stared at me, then him. Rachael let out a shriek.

  “Your boyfriend? He's not your boyfriend! He got in an accident and you offered to let him stay here, for whatever idiotic reason.”

  Trey gaped at his brother while Max poured him some tea. Then Max handed him the glass and rolled back into the living room.

  “Actually, folks, it's true. We've been in a long-distance relationship for several months now.” Luckily, somehow, he said this with a straight face. “I live in Waco, but the two of us reconnected when we met in Dallas one day. It was love at first sight.”

  Rachael's face turned red. “Bullshit!”

  “Language, dear.” Mom hissed at her. “Now, Anna, this must be some sort of sick joke.”

  Dad agreed. “Aside from your tarnished reputation, it just won't do to have you living together unmarried. The church won't tolerate such sin, and as your father, it's my job to save you from making wicked choices in life.”

  “I'm not in the church anymore, and I'll have you know I'm an adult now.” I settled my hand on Max's muscular back. “This is precisely why we kept our relationship a secret all this time, because we knew how the family would react.”

  Mom sputtered. “But what is he doing in this house?”

  Max held up his hand. “It's only temporary, I assure you. I came up to do a job fighting wildfires, but as you can see, that didn't end too well.” He gestured to the casts on his legs. “I clearly can't return home like this. My only option was to stay with her until I healed.”

  No one believed him; I could tell. Trey, especially, looked like he was going to strangle Max. He probably knew we were making it all up. I just hoped he understood why.

  Dad's jaw clenched. “I don't like this one bit. There simply must be another way. Hire an aide to care for you at home, perhaps.”

  “Kind of hard to go home when I live in a second-story apartment.” Max's eyes twinkled. “But hey, think about it. You can still use this to your advantage. You're running for governor, aren't you?”

  Uh-oh. What did he think he was doing? There he went, straying from the plan we'd laid out, just like knew he would.

  “That's right, I am.”

  “Your selfless daughter is so kind and generous that she's taking care of a cripple in her own home, asking nothing in return.” He grinned. “That's the kind of story the news would eat up.”

  I could see the wheels spinning in dad's head. Anything that made him look good, he'd do. Okay, maybe Max wasn't as big an idiot as I thought.

  In all the hoopla, I had barely noticed Rachael being so quiet. She'd slunk off to a corner of the couch where she sat, dazed almost, while tears formed in her eyes. What the heck was the matter with her? Me being with Max made her sad?

  I didn't get it. She sure didn't care about my well-being that much. Something was up, but now wasn't the time to figure out what.

  “Perhaps the boy is right,” mom finally consented. “But of course, make no mention of their scandalous relationship to the media.”

  “There's nothing scandalous about it.” Max looked me dead in the eyes. “What's wrong with me loving your daughter? She's a wonderful girl.”

  I got shivers when he said those words. Either he was a real good actor, or he meant what he said.

  Yeah, right. Max didn't love anybody. He'd told me so himself.

  Still, against all reason, I wished that he would change. I wished he'd love me.

  Trey's brow furrowed. “Anna, I forgot to tell you. Some of your chickens were wandering around in the
road. I think the fence fell down again. Why don't we go round 'em up?”

  We went outside together. I felt bad leaving Max alone in there with them, but he could hold his own. Probably.

  A couple of hens were busy pecking up bugs in the driveway. Trey followed behind me as I shooed them into their yard.

  “You're not dating Max,” he said finally.

  “Of course I am. I just never told anybody about it because I knew how you all would react.”

  He shook his head. “Please don't lie to me. There's no way you're with him. You think I'm stupid?”

  I busied myself with picking a few cherry tomatoes off the vine so I wouldn't have to look at him.

  “When Max came into town a few weeks back, you looked like you wanted to punch him. We've had several cookouts, dinners together, and not once did I get the inkling you cared for each other. If anything, seemed as if you were trying to avoid him.”

  “Maybe we hid it well.”

  “You rarely leave town, and I know for a fact Max never really left Waco 'cause he was always busy with work. Not much of a relationship, is it?”

  “So we don't see each other often. It's no fun, but we make it work.”

  He sighed at my insistence. I feverishly dumped tomatoes into my basket. Inside the house, people were yelling. I felt like running into the woods and hiding until it was over with.

  “And what about Rich?”

  “Shortly after he left me, almost four months ago now, I went to Dallas for work. Remember? That's when I met Max.”

  “I find it hard to believe you'd jump into another relationship so soon, especially with him. You're not that kind of girl. He's a playboy. The two of you would be totally wrong for each other.”

  Out of tomatoes to pick, I fiddled with the sprinkler system instead.

  “Not to mention... I know you're pregnant.”

  I froze. Oh, shit!

  “I... How?”

  “You've got a definite tummy going on, for one thing.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “And Max told me, too, just the other day.”