by Jill Shalvis
He went into the connecting room, the “great room,” the men called it because of its size. There was a big screen television on its last legs, several couches-all of which had seen better days-a scarred but functional dining room set, and their pride and joy-a pool table.
“Hey!” he called out. “Who’s cooking lunch?”
The two on-duty men watching soap operas didn’t budge.
The two playing pool kept up their game. Through the open window he could plainly see two more men standing outside where they’d just finished washing their rigs.
No one answered, or so much as glanced his way.
Dax wasn’t insulted, he knew all too well why he was being ignored. They had a tacit agreement. It wasn’t necessarily a fair one, but it was simple.
He who got hungry first, cooked.
The last one to eat cleaned up.
Most people thought firefighters ate so fast because they were always trying to keep one step ahead of the fire bell. Not true.
They just didn’t want to do dishes.
“So nobody’s hungry,” he said dryly.
Nobody moved.
Of course not. If they answered in the affirmative, then they’d have to cook. If they said no, then they couldn’t eat whatever he cooked.
It was tricky, and if he’d been in a more generous mood, he’d have better appreciated the humor. But he had no humor left. “Damn,” he muttered and turned back to the kitchen. The laughter that broke out behind him made him swear even more colorfully.
But he cracked the refrigerator open again. He’d lost fair and square.
A nap might have better suited him than preparing spaghetti sauce for the entire gang, but he was stubborn as well as hungry. Cranking up the radio on the counter, he chopped up a green pepper and tried to stay in the moment.
Tried to stay out of his past.
Tried to stay out of the part of his brain that hurt.
The loud, hard, pulsing rock blaring from the radio helped. So did all the food he popped into his mouth instead of into the pot.
But he kept coming back to one thing…Amber had asked him for more time, for some space. It was all she’d ever asked of him.
And he hadn’t given it.
The selfishness of that, the pure greed of it, had him stopping in his tracks, a forgotten knife in one hand, a mushroom in the other.
When had he become so rigid, so unyielding?
Disgusted with himself, he chopped more vegetables with a vengeance, nearly slicing off a finger.
He would give her what she wanted, and while it was all fresh in his mind, he yanked the telephone off its hook and dialed her number to tell her so.
When he got her machine, he hung up, frustrated. Fine. She could have her damn time. But he wouldn’t let her go. Couldn’t let her go.
His ears played a cruel trick on him then. He thought he could hear her voice. To block it out, he cranked up the volume on the radio.
He could still hear her.
Another vicious crank of the dial helped, barely. His ears rang. The floor vibrated with the beat. The windows rattled.
In unison, he heard the guys bellow for him to lower the volume, but he ignored them and had to smile at the irony.
He could still hear her.
One last touch to the radio and he had the volume maxed out.
Ahh, he thought…peace. Finally. Maybe now he could get some damn food into his gnawing gut.
Satisfied, he grabbed a tomato and froze.
She was standing there, or at least he was dreaming that she was. Rubbing his eyes ruthlessly, he blinked the gritty exhaustion away and looked again.
She was still there in the doorway of the kitchen, hands braced on the jamb on either side of her as she looked at him with an unreadable expression on her face.
His heart stopped, then kicked in again with a painfully slow thudding. The clothes she wore were unlike her, softer, more feminine, and incredibly, unwittingly sexy. He couldn’t tear his gaze away. The long, flowing, flowery dress was tight in the bodice and flared gently at her hips before falling nearly to her ankles. There was a row of tiny, dainty buttons down the front, starting at the mouthwatering spot just between her full breasts.
She’d never looked so lovely.
God, he wished she was his.
15
D AX TOLD HIMSELF to cool it. She was probably here to go over something about Taylor, and he wondered how he would live through all the time he’d vowed to give her.
She sent him a tentative smile and raised her eyebrows at the music.
With a flick of his wrist, he turned off the radio. The silence was nearly as deafening as the music had been. “Taylor-?” he asked.
“She’s fine,” Amber said quickly. “She’s with your mom.”
He nodded, then said gruffly, “I miss her.”
She clasped her hands together, but other than that, remained perfectly still. “I know. I…wanted to talk to you.”
Great. How was he going to keep from grabbing her and holding on tight? He realized he still held the knife and a tomato, and he set them both down, wiping his hands on a towel because he had to keep them busy. “I’m making lunch.”
A smile flickered across her firm, unpainted mouth. Had he ever seen her without lipstick? Yes, he remembered with a violent reaction in his lower body. She’d been sleeping in his bed at the time, a satisfied, cat-in-cream smile on those naked lips.
“I didn’t realize you could cook,” she said. “Or that you’d…” She trailed off, her voice steady enough, but he could see the telltale sign of a blush creeping up her cheeks.
Interesting. She didn’t seem so in control now. “Or that I’d what?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Look so good doing it.”
Unfortunately, sweet as that admission was, it only made his ache more pronounced.
The awkward silence settled again and Amber took a step toward him. “I’m sorry to intrude, but I haven’t been able to reach you.”
“Yeah. About that…”
“Don’t be sorry,” she said quickly. “I know you’ve been busy.”
Which wasn’t exactly the reason he hadn’t called or gone by to see her. “Yes, I’ve been busy,” he said carefully, stepping around the counter to face her. “But I’ve also been a jerk. I should have gotten back to you, but frankly, I was too busy being selfish.”
“Selfish?” She laughed at that. “You? I doubt that, Dax.”
“I promised not to push, I promised to be patient, and I couldn’t do either. I can do better. I can give you your time and space.”
“Dax-”
“But I can’t let you go. You should know that up front.”
“It’s okay-”
“No, dammit, it’s not.”
“Dax-”
“Let me finish. For the first time in my life I broke a promise and I’m sorry for that, so sorry.”
“Oh, Dax.” Misery crossed her face. “Don’t apologize, that’s not what I came here for. I wanted to tell you…” She looked at her feet for a long moment before lifting her head again. “I have come to a conclusion,” she said in a businesslike tone.
He swallowed. “That sounds bad.”
“No.” The sophistication fled. “It’s just so much harder to tell you than I imagined, and truthfully, I imagined it being pretty tough.”
His heart sank. “You can tell me anything, Amber. You know that.”
Clearly filled with pent-up energy, she slowly walked the room. “You’ve been in my head a long time now, Dax.”
“Uh…okay.” That was good, right?
Her back to him, she studied the wall, which was covered in pictures. The guys had been pinning up photos ever since the station first opened ten years before. There were families, girlfriends, boyfriends, kids…an entire ten years worth of living.
What did she see? he wondered. What did she feel? He wished he knew.
“I know it seems silly,” she said to the wall. “To tell you
that I can’t stop thinking of you.”
“I understand perfectly.”
She turned to him then. “It’s really quite maddening.”
He nodded. Definitely maddening.
“You’re different, you know. Different from anyone I’ve ever known.”
“Is that different good, or different bad?”
She smiled a full-blown smile that took his breath. “I learned things from you. I learned I didn’t have to be strong all the time, that I could lean on someone else once in awhile. I can be independent, Dax, and still let someone in.”
“Someone?”
She laughed. Laughed. “You, silly. I let you in.”
While he stood there with his mouth open, staring stupidly, she came toward him, smile still in place, her gaze tentative. “I learned to trust you. To let you trust me.” Her warm, loving eyes touched him first, then her hands when she stepped close enough to set them on his chest. “And I realized something else, and this is the biggie…” Those clever hands slid up his chest and cupped his face. “I was afraid. I knew and understood that. What I didn’t know, or understand, Dax, was your fear.”
She curled her fingers in his hair, holding him when he might have stepped back and denied her. “The truth is Daxton McCall, despite your bravado and tough words, you’re every bit as scared as I am.”
Behind them, the swinging door to the kitchen opened as two of the firefighters stuck their heads in.
“Not that we’re admitting anything,” one said. “But we’re looking for food-Oh. Excuse me.” He straightened with a new, more charming smile when he saw Amber. “I didn’t realize we had company.”
“You don’t,” Dax said, his eyes still on Amber. “Get out.”
“But how about lunch?” asked the other one, shoving his buddy aside and sniffing theatrically. “Something smells good.” He winked at Amber. “Or is that you?”
Dax growled at them, and they both quickly backed out.
Amber looked appalled. “Dax! That’s no way to treat-”
“Say it again,” he demanded, reaching for her, giving her a little shake. He didn’t know whether to allow this glimmer of hope within him, and the not knowing was killing him. “Say it!”
“That you obviously need some etiquette classes, or that you’re a chicken?”
He grated his teeth. “The chicken part.”
“Oh, I think you heard me.” Dropping her hands from him, she sashayed away to the counter, and picked up his knife. She hacked at a tomato. “You really changed things for me.” Her words were a tad uneven, but her hands were a blur as she demolished the tomato. “You taught me so much about how I could feel for people, about how people could feel for me…”
He came around behind her, sliding his hands along her expressive arms to hold them still. In the interest of both their fingers, he gently set down the knife. “I can’t dispute the chicken part,” he admitted. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her tight, buried his face in her neck. God, he loved her so much. He turned her to face him. “It’s true, I used your resistance to reinforce my own. I don’t know what I expected would happen between us, but it certainly wasn’t for me to fall so deep.”
Her eyes filled and she opened her mouth, but he softly set a finger to her lips. “Yes, the thought of a future with just one woman terrified me more than anything I’d ever faced, but I knew there was no other woman for me, anywhere, and there never would be again.”
“Oh, Dax.” A tear spilled over and he gently swiped it off with his thumb.
“I fell in love with you, Amber,” he said huskily. “And I fell good and hard. That was the easy part. The hard part came later, when I realized you didn’t feel the same way, and that you might never feel the same. I’m sorry I hurt you, I never meant to.”
“I know.”
Because he could, he pulled her close and wondered what was going to happen.
“I called my father,” she said. “I’m going to see him. For Taylor.” She lifted her head from his chest and stroked his jaw as she looked deep into his eyes. “I also changed Taylor’s last name, officially, to McCall. I thought that was important.”
His heart swelled, but before he could even attempt to tell her how much it meant to him, she dropped her hands from him. “That’s part of why I came here today. I wanted you to know what I had done.”
That was it? Hello. Let me drive you crazy. See ya?
Her smile wobbled and she carefully stepped back from him. “Well…” She whirled and walked quickly to the door while his heart died a thousand deaths.
Then, before she turned the handle, she hesitated.
Killing him.
“Aren’t you even going to try and stop me?” She whirled around to look at him. “You realize I have no idea what I’m doing! I could really use some help here.”
His heart leaped into his throat, but before he could say a word, she lifted a hand. “No, wait. Don’t help me. That’s not right. I’m the one who has to do this, not you.”
“Amber…” Had he missed something? “Honey, are you making any sense?”
She drew a deep breath. “Dammit, Dax, I love you, too.” Her smile shook badly. “How’s that for sense?”
Stunned, all he could do was nod. “It’s good.”
“I guess I’ll have to prove it to you.” She swung open the double doors of the kitchen and cleared her throat.
Six curious men turned their heads.
“Listen up everyone…” She looked at Dax over her shoulder. “I love Dax McCall.”
Wild cheers, lewd whistles and a chorus of catcalls greeted this announcement. Amber grinned. “Did everyone get that?”
More cheers.
She slammed the doors on them and turned back to Dax, who was still standing there, mouth open, heart pounding, love and shock singing through his veins.
“I meant it,” she said quietly, once again clasping her hands together. Her smile was still very shaky and her eyes suspiciously wet. “I really meant it. Now I dare you to be more trusting, to lay more on the line than that!”
Oh, he was up for the challenge, yes he was. With his own shaky smile, he stalked past her and yanked open the kitchen doors. “Okay another announcement…I’m forsaking bachelorhood-”
Loud groans greeted that announcement, which made him laugh. “I’m getting something better, trust me.”
Someone called out something about getting lucky every single night with the same woman and Dax grinned. “That, too, but more importantly, I’m going to marry Amber, and spend every single day of the rest of my life a very happy man.”
Next to him, Amber gasped. “Marry?”
He hauled her close. “Love conquers all, we know that. We belong together. Say you’ll marry me, Amber. Say you’ll give me forever.”
In tune to the renewed catcalls, laughter and cheers of congratulations, Amber laughed and went up on tiptoe to kiss him. In soft agreement, she said, “Yes, I’ll give you forever.”
The Firefighter’s Baby By Alison Roberts
CHAPTER ONE
‘I T’S OK, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be OK.’
For a split second, paramedic Laura Green envied the girl whose head she was holding. How crazy was that? She tightened her grip to ensure she was providing stability for the potential neck injury of the nineteen-year-old. The girl had been travelling home at the end of a night shift in a rest home. She had rounded a corner too quickly, run smack into the back of a heavy, slow-moving street sweeper and now lay trapped and terrified inside the wreckage of her car.
‘Keep very still, Courtney,’ Laura reminded her patient. ‘Don’t try and move your head.’
She could understand why the girl wanted to turn towards the owner of that voice. The words were so comforting, the tone completely sincere, and while the endearment was automatic it had the effect of creating an instant and powerful connection. And it was that connection that Laura envied.
She had never had anyone so
totally focussed on her well-being. So committed to protecting and helping her. Not that she would want to experience it in a professional setting like this, of course. Courtney had a fractured right elbow and left femur and goodness only knew what condition her lower legs were in, trapped and hidden beneath the crushed front section of her small car.
A whimper escaped the injured girl as the car rocked slightly. The fireman now crouching beside the open driver’s door leaned in far enough to be seen without causing another attempt to move.
‘It’s OK,’ he repeated. His smile was reassuring. ‘The car’s moving a little because we’re putting some blocks in to stabilise things. Then we’re going to get you out of here.’
‘It hurts…my leg hurts.’
Laura twisted her own head to peer through the shattered glass of a back window. Her partner, Tim, was approaching with a cervical collar in his hand and she could see the other supplies he had set out on a blanket beside the wreck. Some of the tension evaporated as Laura took a deep breath. They could get moving now. Get their patient’s neck protected, get some oxygen on, an intravenous line in place and some pain relief on board.
‘And…and I’m scared!’
‘I know you are, sweetheart. But hang in there. You’re doing just fine.’
Tim leaned past the bulky figure of the fireman assigned to patient communication. Laura adjusted her grip to allow the collar room to slip behind the girl’s neck. The fireman straightened and stepped back to allow Tim more room to manoeuvre, but his action elicited a forlorn cry from the accident victim.
‘Don’t go. Oh, please, don’t go!’
‘I’m right here.’ A heavy glove was stripped off and Laura frowned as she saw the fireman catch the fingers of the hand stretched towards him.
‘I’m Jason,’ the fireman introduced himself. ‘What’s your name?’
‘C-Courtney.’
The neck collar was secured. Tim slipped the elastic of an oxygen mask over the patient’s head and squeezed the metal band at the top of the mask to make it a snug fit over her nose.
‘Pleased to meet you, Courtney.’ Jason’s grin made his teeth gleam in the powerful artificial lights now set up to illuminate the rescue scene. ‘How’re you doing?’