How to Seduce a Fireman: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance

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How to Seduce a Fireman: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance Page 21

by Vonnie Davis


  Jace ran a hand behind his neck and kneaded the muscles there. “Quinn had a flashback tonight, trying to rescue you. I never understood the torment of that experience until I heard it coming from his soul. With Milt and me hearing every bit of communication going on, it was rough hearing Quinn fighting his demons. Made chills go up and down my spine. He finally worked through it by chanting your name over and over.”

  “Damn near brought tears to my eyes.” Milt shook his head as he pulled up to the emergency room entrance. “You brothers take her on in. I’ll find a parking spot and wait in the waiting room once I get some coffee.” He got out to open everyone’s doors and glanced back in the direction from which they’d come. “I hate the thought of him out there all alone. Claimed he’d call a taxi, but I bet he’s not in the presence of mind to do it. He’ll just keep plodding along until he sees home or the station or some other spot he recognizes.”

  ****

  A gentle rain had started sometime during Quinn’s trek home; he couldn’t recall when. Before long, the squishing droplets had turned into a stinging precipitation, plopping off wide palm fronds. He’d found Cassie and lost her again, all in the span of an hour or more. A wiser man would have kept his damn mouth shut, but sometimes she drove him fucking nuts. He loved her, but, hell, she needed to understand a man had a right, a duty, an innate need to protect his woman.

  An all-night restaurant sat at a corner, its lights blinking a cheap-ass red and yellow welcome. He stepped inside and slid into a booth. The odors of burgers frying and coffee brewing made him realize his stomach was so hungry it was chewing on his backbone. He ordered a cheeseburger special with extra fries, apple pie and coffee. It didn’t take him long to wish Cassie was there to share the meal with. God, what had he done yelling at her like that?

  He beat the bottom of the ketchup bottle with his palm. Okay, so maybe not telling her about the text was wrong. Maybe. But if he had it all to do over again, chances are he’d do things the same way.

  Still, the issue with the text wasn’t the only thing stuck in his craw. Having her break free from his arms to run into her big brother’s chafed his ass like hell too. He’d played second fiddle to his dad’s career and his mother’s devotion to her husband. Damned if he’d come in second or third place to her brothers. Until tonight he’d never noticed or comprehended the strength of her connection to them. And, fuck all, it shamed Quinn that he was jealous of her family, especially when they’d treated him so well.

  He paid his bill, left a generous tip for the waitress who looked as exhausted as he felt and then turned the corner toward his neighborhood. His apartment complex finally came into view and he trudged one rain-sodden boot in front of the other. A hot shower and he and Furball would sleep for hours. Right now, he didn’t care if he made it to work on time or not. He didn’t much care about anything.

  His jeans were so wet he could barely get his fingers in his pocket to retrieve his keys. He opened the door and was surprised that Furball lay on the top of his computer. The only time the cat laid on it was when the laptop was warm from recent use. “Did you and your bottomless pit of a stomach miss me?” Quinn bent to untie his boots and take them off before dragging mud through his apartment. The first thing he saw behind his feet was a pair of shiny black leather shoes. The second was total darkness.

  ****

  The incessant ringing of his cell phone slowly pulled him from his unconscious state. Furball’s sniffing his face and hair further woke him. He finally shoved the cell from the pocket of his damp jeans. “Yeah.” Christ, his head hurt.

  “I was beginning to worry.” Wolf’s voice boomed over the phone and Quinn winced at the loud noise. “This is the third time I’ve called you.”

  He gingerly touched the pulsing spot on the back of his head and looked at his bloodied fingers. The room spun when he tried to sit up. “Someone was in my apartment when I got home. He hit me across the back of the head and knocked me out. As soon as the place stops spinning, I’ll get up off the floor.” He relaxed against the linoleum of his foyer. “Until then, I’ll just lie here… Wait! Cassie. Is she okay?”

  “She’ll be fine after some rest. We’re on our way over. Don’t move.” The line went dead.

  Don’t move? Hell, as if I could with my apartment turned into a fuckin’ merry-go-round.

  The next thing he knew four pairs of eyes were peering down at him while four pairs of knees pushed into his sides. How did they get in his apartment? Oh yeah, Milt kept a set of keys.

  “He’s white as a sheet.” Cassie pressed feather-light kisses to his face.

  Quinn reached to cup her cheek. “Angel, will you be okay? What did the doctor say?”

  “He said I’m to crawl in bed with the best-looking man I can find and stay there for hours and hours.”

  “Lucky bastard.” Too bad it wouldn’t be him. Not after the way he’d talked to her.

  Jace rolled Quinn onto his side and examined his head. “Look at the size of that goose egg. Someone get me a clean, wet, soapy washcloth. I need to see how bad it is after I remove the dried blood.”

  Cassie hurried off.

  Wolf tugged off Quinn’s wet t-shirt. “What happened? Can you remember? Cassie, get him some dry clothes too. He’s drenched.”

  Damn, does he need to yell? I already have bombs going off in my head.

  “I walked home in the rain. As soon as I stepped inside I wanted to take off my wet boots. The cat was lying on the lid to my laptop, which was odd, because the only time he lays there is when it’s warm.”

  “Like after someone’s been using it?” Wolf glanced at the computer on Quinn’s desk.

  “Yeah. Then I bent over to untie my boots and I saw these shoes behind me and some bastard hit me in the head.”

  Cassie returned with a wet washcloth and an armful of clothes.

  Jace started cleaning off the wound. “He ought to have stitches. I’d say about five or six.”

  Quinn wasn’t going back to the hospital. “Hell no. Put some butterflies on it. My hair will eventually cover the scar.

  “I can drive him.” Milt looked and sounded exhausted.

  “No. You need to take care of Killer. He’s been alone all day and night. You get some rest. Honest, man, I’m not going to the hospital. Go on home, now, and thanks for everything. We’ll talk tomorrow evening. I’ll take you out for some Italian, that place you like with the cute waitresses.”

  Milt beamed. “You got it, buddy. If you two young guys can handle him, I’m going downstairs and hitting the hay.” His knees creaked when he stood. “Man, I wouldn’t have missed today for anything. I felt useful again. Getting old sucks. A man feels damn invisible.” He opened the door and ambled out.

  Wolf was on the phone. “Ryder. Got another situation. When Quinn got home, someone was in his apartment and knocked him out. He’s going to need some stitches. Looks like whoever it was snooped on Quinn’s laptop. I’m thinking his apartment might need to be swept again. Thanks, pal.” Wolf ended the call.

  “He’s coming over to check the place out.” He thumbed in a number. “Becca, baby, can you come over to Quinn’s place and drive us to the ER? Someone hit him in the back of the head and he’s going to need some stitches.”

  “I don’t need any fucking stitches.” Was everyone freaking deaf in this family?

  “Thanks, gorgeous.”

  ****

  Six stitches later and Cassie had her damn wish. With her encouragement, emergency room staff had shaved his entire head. And damn if she hadn’t taken to calling him Quinnie Bruce. But at least she was talking to him, and maybe they stood a chance at working things out.

  Ryder called him just as they were ready to leave the hospital. He’d found six cameras and eight listening devices. He only removed seven of the bugs, hooking up the eighth, found in the kitchen, to a voice-activated recording of Furball meowing and purring looped in with some Lady Gaga tunes. Ryder’s thinking was if none of the bugs recorded any
sounds, whoever was putting them in would only return and install more.

  At that moment, all he wanted was a hot bath and a soft bed. The fact that his angel insisted on joining him was almost lost on his exhausted mind. After their baths, they snuggled between the sheets and, under the influence of both of their pain medicines, they quickly fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  Until the alarm went off at seven o’clock for them to meet his parents for breakfast.

  His raging hard-on ached so badly for release against the warm, rounded bottom she had shoved against his groin, he kissed her neck and shoulders while his hands fondled her breasts. She rolled over in his arms and pushed him onto his back.

  “I was wrong to leave your arms yesterday to run into my brother’s.” She slithered down his chest and abdomen and then twirled her tongue around the head of his cock. “I won’t ever put anyone before you again.” Her lips curved in that lovable ornery way she had. “Quinnie Bruce.” Then she licked the drop of pre-come from the slit in his head and worked magic with her tongue and mouth.

  He fisted her hair. “Angel. God that feels so fucking good.” She took all of him into her mouth until the tip banged the back of her throat. Then she reached for his nipple ring, gave it a few tugs while she sucked and licked, sending him right over the edge of sexual madness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Cassie removed her bandages before dressing to meet Quinn’s parents. Her cuts were healing nicely. She wore a pale purple long-sleeved cowl-neck sweater, dark purple jeans and black low-heeled boots. Although she kept telling herself she didn’t need to make an impression, she still battled the flutter of gigantic butterflies.

  “Should I wear my hair up or down?” She twisted and turned in front of the mirror, holding her hair off her neck, thinking of how she could pile it on top of her crown.

  “Now, that’s just plain mean.” Quinn leaned against the doorway to the bathroom, his arms folded across his light blue button-up shirt. The back of his head was too swollen to slip on one of his typical t-shirts. “You made them shave my head and now you want my advice on how you should wear your hair?”

  She snuggled against him, enjoying the smell of his woodsy soap and cologne. “I don’t see why you’re complaining. You didn’t mind fisting your hands in my hair earlier.”

  He laughed and smacked her ass. “Wear it down and tousled so they know what an inconvenience meeting them for breakfast is.” He backed her against the wall, his hands on her hips. “ʼCause I could be riding you long and hard right now. There’s something on the bed for you.”

  She pulled back and glared at him. “Oh, I’ll just bet there is.”

  “Look at it while I feed Furball and give him some fresh water.”

  On his freshly made bed lay a calendar opened to the month of June and a red magic marker. A post-it note was stuck to the calendar. “Pick any date not X’d out and drawl a circle around it.” She sat down, calendar in hand and stared at the month. The only days not crossed out were Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays. What was she doing? Planning for a day of scuba-diving? A weekend at Disney World? What?

  She carried the calendar and marker out to the kitchen and smiled at Quinn hand-feeding the cat treats. Sliding onto one of the bar stools between the kitchen and living area, she slapped the plastic calendar onto the counter.

  “What date did you pick, angel?”

  “What am I choosing a date for? Knowing what we’ll be doing that day might help me chose.”

  He crossed the room and folded his arms on the snack bar directly across from her. His blue-grey eyes bore into hers and softened. “I’m hoping we’ll be getting married.”

  Focused on the “M” word, her mind froze. Evidently her jaw gaped because Furball came over and stuck his nose in her open mouth and sniffed. “M…Married?”

  “Yeah, I know it’s customary for the man to present the future bride with an engagement ring first, but with my parents in town, I thought it would be nice to announce a date to them. That is if you still want to marry me.”

  “But it has to be June? Don’t couples usually pick a date together?”

  “I’m an alpha male and I make no apologies for it. Where you’re concerned, I’ll be possessive as hell, indulgent at times and adoring of most everything you do…as long as you put me first most of the time. I chose June because April’s getting married in April. Wolf and Becca’s big day is in May. If June’s too soon, which month would you prefer? It gets so damn hot here in August, I’d rather not put on a tuxedo then. What are your thoughts? October? November?”

  “I want a house and I want babies.”

  One of his slow, sexy-as-hell smiles spread. “I think we can handle two children and a modest rancher.”

  She snatched the marker off the counter and pulled the cap off with her teeth. “Then, Quinnie Bruce,” she circled the second Saturday in June. “We’ve just set a date to start making babies. Do I have time to send a mass ‘save the date e-mail’ to everybody?” She clapped her hands in excitement.

  “You send your email while I call for a taxi. My Harley’s at the station and the Jeep’s got four flat tires thanks to Chris. Your car’s not here. We’ll start getting our lives back to normal this afternoon.”

  Cassie flipped open his laptop and opened a couple of programs. “Face it. You’re marrying me. Your life will never be normal again. I’ll just announce the date in the e-mail. We’ll decide on the time of day and location later.”

  ****

  Quinn had his arm firmly around her waist when they entered Sandy Seashells, one of the best places to eat breakfast in Clearwater. A middle-aged man and woman stood when they walked in. He hugged the older woman, her blond hair shoulder length and eyes a clear blue. “Sorry we were late, Mom. We were setting a wedding date. This is Cassie Wolford, my future bride.”

  His mother pressed a hand to her expensive silk blouse. “A wedding date? Well, this is certainly news!” She wrapped Cassie’s hands in hers. “I hope you’ll call me Selena or Mom.” Her warmth shone through. No wonder Quinn talked so fondly of her.

  “Selena, I hope you’ll save the second Saturday in June for our wedding. The whole weekend, actually. I could probably use your opinion on a lot of last-minute things.”

  A blush of excitement kissed her cheeks. “Oh, nothing would please me more. Buck, our boy is finally getting married and settling down. Isn’t Cassie gorgeous? No wonder he fell for her.” She reached out to touch Cassie’s angel necklace. “What a beautiful piece of jewelry.”

  “Thank you. This means a lot to me. It was a present from Quinn. He calls me ‘angel’ as a nickname.”

  Selena blotted her eyes. “Isn’t that the dearest thing, Buck?” She glanced at her son. “He must love you very much.”

  If Selena was friendly warmth, Buck was some weird-assed ice.

  “Why in God’s name did you shave your head?” The self-important man sat and flicked his linen napkin over his lap. “You look like a dick with ears.”

  “Buck!” Selena elbowed him, sadness edging the deep blue of her eyes.

  While the waitress poured them cups of coffee, Cassie glanced at her future husband, the muscles in his jaw twitched. Is this what he’d put up with from his father? Well, Quinn might be the alpha in their relationship, but she was the momma bear. And maybe it was time she made that fact clear.

  She smiled and leaned toward Buck-the-jerk. “It was my idea he shaved. You see, his bald head matches my bald cunt.”

  Quinn spewed coffee all over his dad’s pristine white shirt. Once he quit coughing, he wrapped his fingers around Cassie’s chin. “God, woman, you do brighten my life.”

  From that point on, breakfast was strained. She was sorry if she’d added to the tension, but Quinn made it clear with little touches here and there that he wasn’t upset with her. They ate off each other’s plates, something they’d always done. She kept a close eye on the time and, on the hour, opened a bottle of medicine and tipped two
pills into Quinn’s outstretched hand.

  “Why is he taking drugs?” Honest to Pete, if Buck’s forehead wrinkled anymore, one could play it for a harp.

  “He had six stitches in the back of his head last night.” Quinn’s hand squeezed her thigh in silent warning. “He had a work-related accident.”

  Selena’s expression filled with concern. “So that’s why his head is shaved?”

  “Yes. If Buck would have been less rude, I wouldn’t have needed to be crude in return, but no one insults my man and walks away unscathed.”

  “You’re a very protective woman.” Selena’s cup stilled partway to her mouth. “I like that.”

  “I was raised in a protective family. A lot of it rubbed off. Even an alpha needs someone to take care of him, spoil him a little bit.”

  Quinn’s pinky finger rubbed back and forth over her pussy—thank God for the tablecloth that hid what his fingers were doing to her. The blueberry pancakes trembled off her fork before it reached her mouth. “Need some help, angel?” He winked before jabbing a forkful of pancakes and feeding her a bite.

  ****

  Two days later, Cassie rang the doorbell at Becca’s townhouse. As soon as the door opened, her future sister-in-law enveloped her in a hug. “Can you believe it? Three brides in three months? This family knows how to do romance right.” She was laughing when she stepped back. Her expression quickly changed.

  “Cassie, what’s wrong?” She led her into the living room where Einstein sat obediently on his chair. He wiggled and whined for Cassie’s attention. She sat on the floor and patted for the German shepherd to join her.

  “If you have the time, I need to talk to you as a reporter.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m getting all these weird vibes and I don’t know if I’m truly sensing something wrong or just overreacting to nothing.”

  Becca opened a desk drawer and pulled out a tablet and a couple of pens. She curled up on her sofa. “So you want to see if I get a strange gut feeling too?”

 

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