Charming the Firefighter

by Beth Andrews

  Her body tightened, the beginning of her orgasm soaring through her. “Leo,” she gasped, holding his gaze.

  His eyes darkened and he pressed his face against her neck, groaning with his own release while she came around him.

  Penelope wasn’t sure how long it was before they both came back to their senses. Minutes...hours...who could tell? When her breathing finally settled and she was able to peel her eyelids open, Leo was still inside of her, his arms around her like a vise, their bodies coated in a fine sheen of sweat.

  She brushed his hair back, loving the feel of it under her fingers. Loving that she had the right to touch him like this, that she could kiss him, run her hands over his face.

  “I think I’m dead,” he murmured against her neck.

  She smiled. “That wasn’t the act of a dead man.”

  He lifted his head. Grinned. “No, but if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll die a happy man.”

  Nodding, she whispered, “Me, too. Except for the man part.”

  He laughed, his chest vibrating against her, the sound wrapping around them, and she kissed him, let her feelings for him come through in the kiss, kept it warm and lingering.

  He slowly lowered her until her feet touched the floor. He stepped back. “Shit,” he breathed. He looked shaken. Scared. “I didn’t use anything.”

  It took a moment for his comment to get through her sex-hazed brain. He hadn’t used a condom. They’d just had sex, semi-rough, quick sex in her dining room like a couple of teenagers without any thought as to the repercussions.

  Shit, indeed.

  More upset and worried than she wanted him to know, she tugged down her nightgown. “It’s okay.”

  “You’re on the pill?” he asked hopefully.

  “No, I—I can’t have any more children.” Had chosen not to after Andrew was diagnosed, hadn’t wanted to bring another child into a home where so much focus was on one child already. She’d wanted Andrew to have her full attention and commitment.

  “I’m sorry,” Leo said.

  She lifted her chin. “It was a choice I made.” She felt sorry enough for herself, and she didn’t need or want his sympathy.

  “No.” His voice was low and husky. “I mean, yeah, I’m sorry for that, too, because it’s obvious you were born to be a mother. You’re a good one. I’m sorry about... Christ, Penelope, I took you against the wall. I was rough.”

  “I didn’t stop you.” Hadn’t even considered doing so, truth be told. It was flattering and amazing that she was able to make him lose that much control. And frightening he had the same power over her. “It was...”

  “Amazing.”

  She couldn’t help it. She smiled at him. “Yes.”

  “Listen,” Leo said, buttoning his jeans. “Why don’t we get cleaned up and dressed? I’ll take you out—”

  “Mom?” The kitchen door slammed shut. “Mom, you down here?”

  Penelope’s eyes widened, her stomach turned. Andrew. Dear Lord, what on earth was he doing home so early?

  Frantic, she looked around, spotted her panties behind Leo. She made a mad dash for them, shoved them into the pocket of her robe as Andrew’s voice grew louder.

  “Mom? Is that Coach’s car in the driveway?”

  Panicked, sick with dread, she yanked her robe closed, but there was little she could do about her hair or Leo’s state of undress. She scanned the doorway to the living room. Maybe they could sneak—

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Too late.

  Trying for composed, Penelope faced her son. Tried to smile, but it died a slow and painful death at the glower on his face, at the way he stared at Leo.

  “Honey.” She swallowed but it still felt as if she had to throw up. “Leo and I were... We didn’t...” She looked to Leo for help, but that only made things worse as he was as disheveled as she was, minus his shirt, his chest smooth and muscled. A clear reminder of how she’d lost her head.

  A clear confession of what they’d been doing.

  * * *

  FOR ONE LONG, breathless moment, Andrew couldn’t figure out what he was seeing. It didn’t compute. Coach was in his dining room in nothing but a pair of jeans while his mom...he could hardly look at her because her hair was messy, her robe open, and under it, all she wore was a nightgown.

  Bile rose in Andrew’s throat. No. No, no, no. It was wrong. Wrong and disgusting. That was his mother, for God’s sake, not some bimbo off the street.

  What the hell?

  “You son of a bitch,” he growled and leaped at Coach, knocking him back a good two feet. It was like running into one of those 250-pound linebackers on the team. Still, Andrew didn’t give up or give in. Coach had to pay. Andrew shoved him, hard, with two hands, pleased when Coach stepped back again.

  “Andrew,” his mom gasped, her tone horrified. Good, she should be horrified. She should be ashamed. “Stop that! Have you lost your mind?”

  “I’ll kill you,” Andrew snarled. “I’ll rip your head off, you bastard!”

  He swung wildly, hoping to knock a few of Leo’s teeth loose, but the coach ducked. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” Leo said in that calm tone he used at practice when he was trying to get his point across. “Let’s sit down and we can discuss—”

  “Discuss what?” Andrew yelled. “Discuss that you’re at my house at seven o’clock on a Sunday morning? That you obviously spent the night here? That you’re screwing my mother?”

  His mom made a sound, like he’d punched her in the stomach, but Andrew ignored it. She deserved it. She was the one always harping about responsibility and being careful not to sleep around with anyone, safe sex and all that entailed, about waiting for the right person. And now she was hooking up with the coach?

  Un-freaking-believable.

  “Watch your step,” Leo said in a low, dark tone Andrew had never heard from him before. “And your mouth. Your mom deserves better than that. She deserves to be respected.”

  “Is that what you’re doing?” Andrew spat. “Respecting her? Because from here, it looks like you’re fu—”

  Leo grabbed Andrew by the upper arms and shook him. Hard. Andrew’s teeth snapped together and he tried to yank free but couldn’t.

  “Leo,” Penelope cried, rushing over to try to break them up. “No.”

  But Coach wasn’t listening to her. His eyes were on Andrew, his gaze hard and cold. “You don’t speak about your mother that way,” he said, his voice dangerously quiet. “You hear me? You don’t speak about any woman that way.”

  Shame filled Andrew. Tears stung his eyes. He wasn’t in the wrong here. They were. They were the ones sneaking around, acting like teenagers. They didn’t care what he thought, what he wanted.

  He lifted his hands, tried again to break Leo’s hold. “Get off me.”

  His humiliation and frustration grew when Leo let go and Andrew realized he wouldn’t have been able to get free unless Leo had wanted him to.

  “Andrew,” his mom said, her voice shaky, tears in her eyes. She should feel shaky. She should feel horrible. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?” Leo asked, frowning at her. “He comes in here acting like a brat and you’re apologizing?”

  She shot him a hard glance. “Leo, please—”

  “Forget it,” Andrew said, stalking to the door. “I’m out of here.”

  “Andrew,” his mom called, chasing after him. “Wait. Don’t you walk away,” she said as if she had any right to tell him what to do. “Andrew? Come back here.”

  He slammed the door behind him, then raced across the yard to Gracie’s house. He couldn’t bear seeing or talking to anyone in her family so he skirted the front door and climbed the trellis to her window. He’d done it many times over the past few weeks, always late at night when their parents were sleeping. They’d made out a few times, yeah, but they’d also talked. A lot. He’d even told her about when he’d been sick. He tapped on the glass. Please be home, he pra
yed. Please. He waited, then tapped again.

  A moment later, she appeared, her hair messy, sleep marks on her face. She lifted the window. “Andrew? What...” She frowned as if noticing something was up. “Are you okay?”

  He shook his head. “Can I...can I come in?”

  “Of course.”

  She backed up and he climbed in and waited by her bed while she shut the window. She was in a tank top and yoga pants that clung to her curves. “Can I get you something?”

  “No. Thanks. I just... Can I stay here? Just for a little while?” Until he figured out what his next step was, where he’d go, what he’d do.

  Her expression was soft and sympathetic. “Of course. Come on,” she added, sliding into bed. She opened her arms and he didn’t hesitate. He sat with his back against the headboard and pulled her into his arms and just held her.

  * * *

  “WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”

  Penelope whirled around to gape at Leo. “To find my son, of course.”

  He sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t even know where he went.”

  Did he have to sound so reasonable? So calm? “He’s probably heading to Luke’s or with that girl he’s been seeing...Jamie or Jodi or something.”

  “Honey, come sit down,” Leo said, taking her arm and gently leading her to a chair. “You’re upset.”

  “Yes, I’m upset. My son just walked in on me having sex.” Her voice sounded shrill and overly dramatic—the complete opposite of Leo’s. “Of course I’m upset!”

  “He didn’t walk in on us having sex.”

  “He could have.” And she hadn’t considered that possibility once. Hadn’t thought, for one second, what would happen if her son were to arrive home early. She’d been too focused on her own needs, on being with Leo.

  It was all too much. The emotional roller coaster she was on, the way her body responded to making love with Leo, how out of control she’d been with him not ten minutes ago. Her feelings for Leo, her attraction to him, pushed her into taking chances, stupid risks with her life, her heart and now her son.

  Leo knelt in front of her. “You’re in a nightgown and robe,” he said. “You’re not exactly dressed to scour the town for Andrew.”

  That he had a point—and that he gently took her car keys from her—only fueled her ire. He went to brush her hair back and she slapped his hand away. “How can you act so calm after what happened?”

  “It’s bad, yes. But it’s not the end of the world.”

  “My son attacked you.” She’d never forget the look in Andrew’s eyes when he’d taken that swing at Leo, the way he’d glared at her as if she totally disgusted him. “He could have hurt you.”

  “He lashed out at me, at both of us, trying to hurt us because he’s confused. And yes, angry. But we didn’t do this to him on purpose—we had no idea he’d be home early.” Leo paused and looked directly in her eyes—almost too directly. She wanted to look away. “He was wrong and acted badly. You need to stop taking responsibility for his choices. Stop feeling guilty for having your own life. Let him be responsible for his own actions and mistakes and especially for that shitty attitude. He had no right to talk to you like that. None.”

  And Leo had stood up for her. She could appreciate it. Would have appreciated it if she didn’t suspect she’d deserved Andrew’s ugly words.

  She was also surprised by Leo’s reaction. She’d never seen him be anything less than pleasant, patient and easygoing with anyone, yet within the space of five minutes, he’d manhandled her son and now sounded angry with her.

  “We went too far,” she said wearily. “I’m trying to teach Andrew to be a good man, a good person. How can I expect him to listen to me, to be decent and caring, to wait and not have sex, or to always have protected sex, when I jumped into bed with you? When we both got so carried away like we did this morning?”

  “You didn’t jump into bed with me,” Leo growled. “That’s your guilt talking.”

  “Maybe.” Her head ached; her heart ached. “Or maybe it’s the honest truth, the realization of what I have to do.”

  Leo’s eyes narrowed. “Which is?”

  “I can’t hurt Andrew this way. I won’t. He’s been through enough.” She inhaled deeply. “I can’t... I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  FURY SWEPT THROUGH LEO. He was pissed at Andrew, yeah, but the kid had the excuse of being an idiot teenager. No, what really irritated him was Penelope being willing to indulge her son’s rotten behavior.

  “I can’t believe you’re caving to Andrew’s tantrum,” he said from between his teeth. He straightened, his hands fisting. “Jesus, Penelope, be in charge for once.”

  She flinched, but he wouldn’t take back his words, not when she needed to hear the truth. Then her eyes flashed and she, too, stood. “Funny, but it didn’t bother you when I caved over his desire to play football.”

  He waved that aside. “That was different.”

  “Really?” She crossed her arms, the look incredibly sexy with her mussed hair and gaping robe, the knowledge that her underwear was in her pocket. “How so?”

  “Because that was something he wanted to do. Something that would help him focus and become a better person.”

  “So putting on tight pants and bashing into other boys is character building?”

  Leo’s jaw clenched at her snotty tone. “Damn right. With the right coach, the right teammates, it is. Youth athletics teach kids the importance of working together and putting in one hundred percent effort. They learn how to prioritize and manage their time. Giving in to Drew now only teaches him that he can push you around.”

  She sighed, as if the fight had gone out of her. “I’m sorry. I just... I can’t. I can’t fight with him, I can’t stand to see him so upset. Not when I know there’s something I can do to stop it. And I can’t look him in the eye and tell him to respect the girls he goes out with when his own mother—who isn’t in a committed, long-term relationship—is having unprotected sex against the dining-room wall.”

  “There’s a difference between what happened between us and a couple of kids fumbling around in the backseat of a car.” Unbelievable that she’d lump their experience, what just happened between them, in with teenagers experimenting and considering it all wrong, some sort of sin. “There’s a difference between two single, consenting adults—emphasis on the adults—having a monogamous sexual relationship and a couple of teenagers blindly following their hormones.”

  “There’s a difference, yes, you and I know that. But Andrew doesn’t, and my first priority has to be my son.”

  “I would never ask you to put me first,” Leo said, fearing he was close to losing something important, something he’d never have again if he let her push him out of her life. “I’m asking you to put yourself first. And maybe, just maybe, that you put us, as a couple, at least on equal footing with your son.”

  “Don’t you see? I can’t.” Tears filled her eyes and it ripped him apart inside. “He’s suffered enough. He’s gone through what no child should have to, what no one should have to face, and he’s come out on the other side. Now it’s up to me to keep him safe. It’s my responsibility to make sure he reaches his potential. I have to focus on him. I have to do what’s best for him.”

  Leo paced the length of the kitchen, wishing like hell he’d at least brought his shirt down. He could use a bit of armor about now. Stabbed a hand through his hair. “Look, don’t make any decisions now.” Especially ones that would affect both of them, ones that meant his having to walk away. “You’re upset. Andrew’s upset. I’m upset. Let’s just...take a step back. See how we feel about everything tomorrow.”

  She nibbled her lower lip. “I don’t know...”

  “I do. Please. I—I care about you. I want to see where this goes between us. I don’t want it to end. Not now. Not like this.”

  He wasn’t sure he ever wanted it to end, but he’d never had that
thought before, had never seriously considered forever when it came to any of the women he’d dated. He wanted to explain to her how he felt, but his feelings for her were so new, so fragile, he wasn’t sure what to say. How to tell her what was in his heart.

  Especially when he was terrified she didn’t feel the same way.

  What he needed was time. Time to see if his feelings for her were real and deep enough to last—strong enough for them to make their relationship work for the long haul, like his parents and his brothers and Maddie.

  Time for him to convince her to take a chance on him despite all those negatives she had stacked against him. That orderly list of hers that told her they wouldn’t work, that they were too different, that she was Andrew’s mom and nothing else.

  “Please,” he added quietly. “I’ll leave now, we’ll take a break for a few days, then we’ll see how we feel.”

  She seemed unsure, so he did what he could to sway her to his way of thinking. He kissed her, kept the kiss gentle and warm until her mouth parted under his and she responded. His body reacted to the kiss, but he stepped away before he could take it deeper and hotter—mainly because he didn’t want Andrew coming back unannounced and catching them in the middle of a heated lip-lock.

  He smiled, putting all of his charm into it. “Come on, Penelope. Don’t give up on us. Not yet. Not without a fight.”

  She exhaled heavily, her breath washing over his chin. “A few days. You’ll give me that much time to get through this with Andrew?”

  “I’d rather help you,” he said honestly, “but if you don’t want it or need it, then yeah, I’ll leave you be.”

  She eyed him warily as if she weren’t sure whether or not to trust him. “You won’t call me or stop by?”

  “I’ll wait for you to call me.”

  But if she didn’t by the middle of the week, he was coming after her.

  * * *

  PENELOPE LOOKED UP when the door opened to see Andrew walk in, his face drawn. When he saw her, his shoulders stiffened. Leo had left hours ago and during that time, she’d done all she could to keep busy while waiting for her son to return home. She’d showered and washed her bedding—couldn’t bear to sleep on her sheets when they still smelled like Leo. She’d cleaned the kitchen and done the laundry, paid bills, anything and everything in an effort to keep her mind occupied.