by Julie Miller
Matt released a slow breath and nodded. “I can be pretty quiet. It’s spooky when I don’t say much.”
“Spooky? Who told you that?”
“My brother Alex. And a woman I once dated.”
“Well, Alex and what’s-her-face are wrong. I think you just wait until you have the right thing to say.” Although she could easily imagine Matt being a big, brooding presence if he ever got ticked off, he’d never shown her that side of him. “I bet there’s a lot of thinking and decision making going on inside that head before you ever say a word. Maybe you’re a little shy. And if that’s so, I think it’s sweet.” She quickly put up her hand in apology. “And before you argue with me, sweet is a good thing.”
“That’s what my grandma says. If a woman calls one of us sweet, not to complain.”
“I like your grandmother.”
“She’s one of a kind.” The line of his mouth softened in what she hoped was his version of a smile.
The tension inside her skull eased a little. She liked being on good terms with Matt. She should end this conversation while she was ahead. She thumbed over her shoulder across the hall. “I’d better get inside. I promised Evan a bedtime story. We both have school in the morning, so...”
“Good night.”
“Good night, Matt.”
“Corie.” She’d unlocked her door and pushed it partway open, but somehow he managed to stop her without touching her, without startling her. Corie turned as he braced one hand on the door frame beside her head, reversing their positions from a moment ago. “If I ever do anything that reminds you of your ex, you’ll tell me, right? You won’t just put up with it because you’re a nice lady or you’re worried about hurting my feelings or you think the truth will trigger my temper. It won’t. I promise. You’ll tell me to back off if I scare you?”
Kenny had rarely given her the option of pointing out when he was hurting or frightening her. If anything, he enjoyed it when she’d voiced her fears. It only made him want to torment her more, it seemed. Kenny had always needed to prove his strength, his power—and when the outside world hadn’t let him be everything he wanted, he exerted that dominance over her. But Matt Taylor was a different sort of man than her ex had been. He knew he was strong, but he worked hard to play down his physicality instead of shoving it in her face. He was a little awkward, a little gruff—but he seemed like such a good man. A good neighbor. Maybe even a good friend. If she’d let him be.
Corie considered the earnestness of his request, then surprised herself almost as much as it must have surprised Matt when she reached for his hand down at his side and squeezed his fingers. “I will.”
His hand was callused and warm and infinitely gentle as he folded his fingers around hers and squeezed back. “And I’ll tell you the next time I investigate anything suspicious that relates to you or Evan.”
She offered him an apologetic smile. “I’m super protective of my son. I overreacted.”
“No. I overstepped my authority. Thought I recognized someone acting out the way I once did.”
“You acted out?”
He rubbed the pad of his thumb across her knuckles in a gentle caress, but which of them he was soothing, she couldn’t be sure, because the seriousness of his expression didn’t change. “I started fires when I was a little boy. Younger than Evan, but still...” His grip pulsed lightly around hers. “Had some catastrophic consequences,” he added without hinting at what that tragedy might have been. “I thought if Evan was dealing with something like that, I could help. Speak to him from experience.”
“You played with fire?” That was an irony she understood far too well. “And yet you became a firefighter.”
He nodded. “Atonement.”
Atonement. That single raw word spoke volumes yet told her little. This gentle giant was a curious one. His honesty spoke to something deep inside her. His confession, whatever it might mean, lessened the embarrassment and caution she’d felt in revealing some of her own past. Her instinct was to comfort him. Her desire was to know him better. But instinct and desire hadn’t served her very well in the past. Her brain told her to run far and fast from this connection she felt with Matt. But her heart was asking for something very different.
He pulled his hand from the door frame and brushed the back of his knuckles across her cheek. Her breath caught at the tender caress. But it wasn’t fear of his touch that made her lips part as her skin suffused with heat. “I want you and Evan to be safe.”
Corie realized they’d been holding hands this whole time. Their eyes had been locked together, and she hadn’t once felt the need to bolt. But maybe she’d be smart to at least walk away. She reached up to pull his fingers from her face and grasped each of his hands between them. “Thank you for caring, Matt. But I got this.”
He nodded. “Remember what I said. Be honest with me. And if anything—anyone—makes you afraid again—”
“I’ll call 9-1-1 and ask for the firefighter next door.”
“You could just call my number. Here.” He was the one who was finally strong enough to release their hold on each other to pull his billfold from his back pocket. He handed her a KCFD business card with his name and both his cell and the firehouse numbers on it.
“Lieutenant Taylor. Impressive.” She hugged the information to her chest. “Thank you. Good night, Matt.”
“Good night, Corie. Tell Evan good-night, too. I’ll wait ’til you lock the dead bolt behind you.”
Once she’d locked her door, Corie leaned back against it. She smiled when she heard his door close and lock across the hall. Was he always this true to his word? Did Matt show this kind of caring to everyone?
They’d held hands longer than a simple thank-you called for. Corie raised her hand in front of her face and marveled at the sensations of warmth and caring still prickling in her fingers from where Matt’s big, callused hand had folded so gently around hers. Then she brushed her fingers across her cheek. She hadn’t cared about a man’s touch in years. But tonight, she’d actually enjoyed that simple, caring contact. She drew her fingertips across her lips, wondering if his mouth would be equally gentle pressed against hers. Or would his kiss be more demanding, as befitted his size and strength? Her pulse beat with intensified interest, and her body flushed with a long-forgotten warmth. Did she even have it in her to respond to real, raw passion like that anymore? If the memory of Matt’s touch still lingered on her skin, what would it feel like if her whole body was wrapped up against his?
The heat she felt deepened and spread through her body, triggering a deliciously female response to sensations she could only imagine. Her womanly responses to men had lain dormant for so long. Once, she’d shut them down to protect at least a part of herself from Kenny, and she’d never felt compelled to resurrect that sweet tingling of normal desire in her breasts and womb. She’d never been brave enough to indulge that silky heaviness that warmed her from the inside out. Matt Taylor wasn’t classically handsome, and he had no smooth charm that she could detect. But there was no denying his utter masculinity, or her basic feminine response to all that maleness. He was an unexpected temptation to her rusty hormones. He was interesting. A little mysterious and seriously hot. She was tempted to get to know him better—to do much more than simply hold his hand and share a hushed conversation at her apartment door.
“Mo-om!”
Perfect timing. Evan drew out her name on two syllables, pulling her back to reality and quashing any momentary fantasy she had about Matt. She tucked his card into the pocket of her sweater and pushed away from the door. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to develop a crush on the firefighter next door. Maybe she already had.
But she had a family to support, a college degree to earn, and an eight-year-old son who needed story time and some cuddling before he’d go to sleep.
Corie didn’t have time to indulge in whatever he
r hormones or heart were trying to tell her about Matt Taylor.
Chapter Five
After the second rapid knock on his door, Matt pulled his jeans down over his work boots and hurried out of the bedroom, tucking in his insulated undershirt and shrugging on a flannel shirt as he strode through his apartment. “Coming!” he barked.
He peered through the peephole to see which of his brothers had stopped by to tell him to hustle his butt over to Grandma Martha’s old condo, where they were converging tonight to continue the remodeling and repair work needed before putting it on the market in the spring or summer. But there was no annoying brother out there. His nostrils flared as he dragged in a steadying breath to tamp down the mix of concern and anticipation surging inside him before he quietly opened the door to the blonde and her young son standing in the hallway.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, reading the harried expression on Corie McGuire’s face.
She hugged Evan back against her stomach and retreated half a step, possibly rethinking knocking on the Big Bad Wolf’s door. “Is this a bad time?”
“For what?” He buttoned his shirt and straightened the collar, waiting for an explanation.
Corie nodded, deciding the reason for being here was more important than whatever second-guessing was playing through her head right now. “I have a big favor to ask you. I don’t know if I have the right...” Not an emergency. The wariness in him eased a fraction, and he rolled up his sleeves while Corie spewed out a stream of disconnected sentences. “I got called in to work this evening. One of the girls went home sick. It’s a chance to pick up a few extra hours. But it means working until closing, and it’s a school night for Evan.” She paused for breath. Nope. He still didn’t understand what she needed from him. “I know it’s impossibly short notice, but I heard you come home from work a few minutes ago, and... I’m not giving you much time to relax, but would you be able to watch Evan for me this evening?”
He needed clarity. Was she in a panic caused by time constraints? Or was he missing something more serious here? He glanced down at Evan and the green, purple and yellow plastic dragon he carried. “Babysit?”
Evan’s lips buzzed with a groany sigh as he pushed away from his mother. “I’m not a baby.”
The boy was put out, not in distress. This didn’t sound too serious. Maybe Corie was uncomfortable asking for a favor. Maybe she was uncomfortable asking him for a favor. Maybe she felt like she was out of options and he was the last resort. The poor choice he’d made watching his little brother, Mark, twenty-six years ago had never been repeated. He might not be the fun uncle, but in the years since, he’d been trusted with younger cousins and nieces and nephews, and they’d all survived. In his experience, you kept the kid busy, fed him and put him to bed on time, and he’d never had an issue. If she needed a sitter, he was her man. How could he make this easier for her?
Maybe she wasn’t the one he needed to make friends with.
Matt leaned against the door frame and hunched his posture a tad, turning his focus down to the green-eyed boy and trying to sound like...not the Big Bad Wolf. “Poor choice of words, Ev. My apologies. You and your dragon buddy want to hang out for a while?” He was still looking down when he raised his gaze to Corie’s. “His regular sitter isn’t available?”
Color blossomed in her cheeks. “Regular? Um... I don’t have anyone on speed dial—”
“Usually I go with Mom to the diner,” Evan volunteered, innocently unaware of his mother’s embarrassment as he matter-of-factly explained their predicament. “But that’s when she works the afternoon shift after school. I can only go on Fridays and Saturdays when she closes. She calls me a growly butt in the morning if I stay up too late. And staying up until the diner closes means too late.”
Understanding dawned. Corie didn’t have a regular sitter. They went to school together in the morning, and he went to campus with her when she had classes and to Pearl’s Diner when she had to work. And she’d just mentioned the need to pick up extra hours, so paying for an emergency sitter might not be an option for her.
He was trained to handle emergencies—large or about the size of a small eight-year-old boy. Matt dropped his gaze to Evan again. “Can you handle a hammer?”
Evan screwed his lightly freckled face up in a suspicious frown. “I don’t know.”
Matt held up a finger, warning mother and son not to leave as he dashed into the spare bedroom to pull his toolbox from the closet and retrieve a hammer. He came back to the door and found both mother and son peeking into his apartment, with Corie clinging to Evan’s shoulders to keep him from following Matt inside. He wouldn’t have minded the boy traipsing along behind him. “Let me show you.” Matt knelt in front of Evan, trading the hammer for the dragon, letting the boy feel the weight of the tool and watching how he grabbed it with both hands in the middle. Matt moved Evan’s hand to the proper position and demonstrated an easy swing. “Did anybody ever teach you to hold the handle near the end, and not up by the peen?”
“Peen?” Evan giggled, no doubt thinking that was the past tense of another word. Matt had been a boy once, too. “That’s not a real word.”
“The peen is the heavy metal part of the hammer that you hit the nail with.”
“It is? I thought you were talking about...” His mouth rounded with an O of excitement before tilting his face up to Corie. “Mom, can I try? I want to hammer a nail.”
Corie frowned. “Are you working on a project? I don’t want him to get in your way.”
“He won’t.” Matt stood, firmly grasping the hammer to stop Evan from swinging it. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be too hard to keep this kid entertained. “Is it all right if I take him to my grandmother’s old apartment a few blocks from here? I planned to meet my brothers to work on renovations. I’ll make sure Evan’s buckled into the back seat of my truck. I’m a safe driver. I drive the fire engine. Never had an accident.”
“You drive the fire engine?” Evan’s eager response told her that was about the coolest thing he’d ever heard. Way cooler than even the chance to hammer on something. No way was Corie going to be able to say no without disappointing her son. Or Matt. Besides, there was no need for her to. Everyone else would be showing up at his grandma’s apartment with a spouse or fiancée, children and probably a dog. Matt liked the idea of bringing his own sidekick to the party. “Can I drive it?”
“You’re a little young for that, bud.” Matt eased his no by ruffling his fingers through Evan’s soft, staticky hair. It was funny how some of the longer strands stuck straight out or up. Evan McGuire might be a curious, sheltered kid, but he was all boy. “I’ll show you my Lucky 13 truck sometime. You can climb inside, sit behind the wheel. But that’s another outing. And we’re not going anywhere tonight unless your mom says it’s okay.”
“Mom, pleee-a-ssse! He drives the fire engine and I can hammer.” He hoped the kid went into music, because he could draw a word out across several different notes.
Corie shook her head, looking like she’d already lost the battle. “You’re sure he won’t be in your way?”
“Positive.”
Corie’s blond ponytail bobbed across her shoulders as she shook her head, surrendering to the boy jumping up and down between them. “You’ll have him home by bedtime?”
“He’ll be snoring when you get home from work.”
Evan finally stopped his bouncing. “Hey, I don’t snore. But, can I, Mom? Please? I want to learn about peens.” He beamed a gap-toothed grin, as though saying the word out loud made him want to laugh again. “And fire engines.” Evan tugged on Matt’s sleeve. “Will you tell me about your fire engine?”
“You bet.” Matt tucked the hammer through his belt and rested a hand on Evan’s shoulder before he started that bouncing thing again.
Corie tilted her soft green eyes up at Matt, and he couldn’t look away. “You’ll keep him aw
ay from any power tools?”
“Mo-om!”
“My brother Mark is a registered EMT, and my first aid training is current. If he gets hurt, we’ll fix him.”
“If he gets hurt—?”
“He won’t get hurt.”
Her soft green eyes rolled heavenward, and he thought he detected the hint of a laugh. “Sometimes I can’t tell when you’re joking. I have to get used to that dry sense of humor.” Matt felt his mouth relaxing into an answering smile. Getting used to would require spending more time together. He liked that idea. “Okay. To all of it.” She combed her fingers through Evan’s hair, trying to neaten it up a tad before she cupped his face in her hands. “Homework done?”
“Yep.”
She arched a suspicious eyebrow, and Evan groaned again.
“I still have multiplication tables.”
“Run and get your coat and backpack. You’ll finish the math before you help Matt and his brothers, okay?”
“Okay.” Evan was darting across the hall and tearing through their apartment before Corie finished her question.
Unlike her son’s flyaway hair, Corie’s hung thick and straight. She brushed a loose strand of it off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. Matt’s fingers tingled with the urge to do the job for her. And linger. And maybe free that ponytail to see how long her hair was when it fell loose and straight. “I hope you know what you’re getting into.”
Matt curled his hands into his fists and tore his thoughts away from sifting her thick, shiny hair though his fingers. “I think I can handle second grade math.”
“Yes, but can you handle a second grader?”
Although he suspected she was teasing him as much as giving fair warning, Matt felt compelled to reassure her. “I’ll have help. My grandmother and sisters-in-law are bringing food. There’ll be plenty for him to eat. My brother Pike will bring his son. Gideon Jr. is close to Evan’s age. He’ll be fine.”