But now? Now that I know where he was coming from and why he acted the way he did? “No, I don’t think you should do that.”
I’m the big softie Hayley made me out to be after all. I talk a good game, but I can’t follow through when the time comes.
His sigh is long, deep. “Thank you.” He even looks lighter, happier. The worry lines in his forehead and at the corners of his eyes smooth out.
“What I think you should do is help me write a book.” I pull out my notepad and pen, placing them next to the silverware.
Our server hasn’t come by yet, which is just as well. We had things to talk over.
We still do in fact.
“Yeah, what’s that all about? I’ve been wondering ever since you mentioned it. And why did your grandmother pay for this?”
“Do you want the long story or the abridged version?”
“Abridged? You sound like a writer.” He winks. “I want the full story. I’m not in any hurry.”
Well, he asked for it. By the time I finish up, we’re halfway through our burgers.
“So, here we are. I needed a firefighter to use for this next book. My grandmother knew where to find them and offered to put up the money. What was I supposed to do otherwise? Haunt the local firehouse until somebody agreed to go out with me?”
He snorts around a mouthful of fries. “It might’ve worked. Those long shifts get awfully boring sometimes, being around the same people you’ve been with for so many hours.”
“You work long shifts?” Oh good, I’m already getting information.
But he frowns when he sees me starting to take notes. “Can we just talk right now? Besides, that’s not anywhere near as interesting as the job gets. I’d be glad to give you a tour of the station whenever you want. You can meet more of the guys there, and they’ll tell you just about anything you’d wanna know about what we do.”
“That would be great. I’d really appreciate that.”
“No problem. I’ll text you my schedule, and you can let me know when you’ll be coming by.”
“Okay.” Now, I feel silly for bringing out the notepad, so I have to say something. “I mean, I figured this would be the only time we got together, so I wanted to learn as much as I could.”
He tilts his head to the side. “Is that what you want? I’d understand. This was only supposed to be a one-time thing. I shouldn’t have assumed you’d want to see me again.”
Is it what I want? Now that we’re talking like two grown-ups, now that I see how he’s turned his life around, do I want to see him again? It’s an honest question.
Because no matter how many times I tell myself this is for a book and nothing more, there’s part of me that knows better. Bryce has grown into a man with a sense of humor, a good attitude, a conscience—and a killer smile.
And that could prove dangerous.
The book is what matters though, which is why I nod. Isn’t it? That’s the only reason. “Sure, I want to see you again. To learn about the fire station and what you do for a living.”
A smile flits across his face before he pops what’s left of his burger into his mouth. “Fair enough.”
CHAPTER NINE
“I hope you won’t be disappointed.” Bryce steps aside to usher me into the firehouse the afternoon after our date.
It’s still weird, being near him. I make it a point to squeeze past without brushing against his flat torso or ridiculously broad chest. Call it old habits dying hard.
“Why would I be disappointed?”
There’s a huge truck in the bay, all gleaming and shiny. It doesn’t seem quite as massive as it did when I was a kid, but it’s still overwhelming. “I remember coming here when I was little.”
“That’s right. I guess you would’ve lived near here back in the day.”
“Less than half a mile away.” It’s not easy to put on a bright smile. Being in this neighborhood is like a punch to the gut.
I wish I could be happy here and wrap myself in warm memories and all that. But this is where my parents died. Where they were struck by a drunk driver down the street from our apartment.
A book is a book, and I have to write it. Which means I have to take an opportunity where I see one.
I only wish I’d known before agreeing to stop in that Bryce worked out of this particular company.
“Well, for better or worse, I don’t think much has changed around here in the last twenty years.” He waves me on, walking ahead of me. “You’d have to ask one of the old-timers about that though.”
“Hey, I heard that.” A man with a mostly bald head fringed in gray sits behind a desk in an office we stop at on my little tour.
“Jim Henry, our captain.” Bryce steps aside while I shake the captain’s hand.
“Don’t tell me you’re involved with this piece of work.” Jim nods toward Bryce.
“Oh, no!” All right, maybe that was a little too loud. Maybe I sounded a little too horrified. At least Bryce doesn’t look terribly offended. “No, uh, I’m writing a book featuring a firefighter, and Bryce was nice enough to offer to show me around. For research. That’s it.” Shut up, Kitty. That’s enough.
“A book about firefighters?” Jim chuckles, shaking his head. “Everybody thinks what we do is so exciting. You’d be disappointed to know the truth.”
“Isn’t that good though?” I look back and forth between the two of them. “The fewer fires you have to fight, the better, I would guess.”
“Oh, for sure.” Bryce nods. “But the rest of the time, we hang around, doing paperwork, maintaining the equipment, working out.”
I can’t help but grin. “Not the sort of stuff my readers want to read about, I don’t think. But that’s what fiction’s all about. I’ll make something up to hold their attention.”
Jim laughs at this before going back to work.
“Our workout room.” Bryce nods toward an open door, through which I can see a few weight machines and a couple of treadmills. “I’d call it a gym, but we’d have to update a few things for it to deserve that status.”
“Do you work out here a lot?” Wow. I really need to start thinking about what my questions might sound like before I let them tumble out of my mouth. “I mean, as opposed to having a membership somewhere else.”
If he finds this funny, he does a good job of hiding it. Leaning against a brick wall, he folds his thick arms, and it takes pretty much every ounce of my self-control to keep me from ogling his biceps. He’s wearing a T-shirt snug enough to show off his considerable muscles.
“It doesn’t make sense to have a membership anywhere else. My shifts here are usually twenty-four hours at a time, if not thirty-six.”
“You sleep here, I assume?”
“No. I spend the entire thirty-six hours awake.”
So, he feels comfortable enough to joke around a little. I guess that’s a good thing, though it still doesn’t seem right. Him calling the shots, deciding when we get to joke around and be friendly.
I’ll let it go, for now.
“Ha-ha. So, what? It would be a waste of money to have a membership at a gym?”
“That was my point, yeah. I work out at home on the days I’m not here. You wanna see the bunk room? Where we sleep?” He winks before turning away, leading me farther down the hall.
After I look around in there—rows of cots really, not much more than that—we head into the kitchen.
“This is where we gather for the most part.”
He introduces me to the seven firefighters sitting around a long table. Two are playing checkers, one’s reading a book, and the other four are playing cards.
Another man is at the stove, stirring an enormous vat of spaghetti sauce.
“That smells delicious,” I offer with a smile.
“You might feel a little different about it if you had to eat it for days.” Bryce gestures to a freezer chest. “We usually cook a few things in bulk twice a month to feed us for a while.”
“That
makes sense. You never know when you’ll have time to spend on it.” I take a peek inside and find tons of food storage containers marked with dates and names of dishes.
It all feels sort of boring, but I would never say that out loud.
Besides, they all know how boring their job looks to outsiders. Jim already joked about that.
“Anything you wanna know?” Bryce looks around. “Questions? Thoughts?”
Nothing like being put on the spot. All seven heads swivel in my direction—eight, counting the guy at the stove.
“Um … yeah. What’s it like, fighting fires?”
There’s a moment of silence before everyone bursts out laughing. Not nastily, not rudely.
But still, nobody wants to be laughed at.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Bryce holds up his hands and raises his voice to be heard over them. “It’s a fair question. How would she know? Just because none of you are used to being around a beautiful woman—”
“Not true.” One of the men holds up his left hand, where a gold ring shines.
“Yeah,” another one calls out. “And I was at that auction too, don’t forget.”
Right, this is one of the other bachelors. I didn’t recognize him at first.
“Oh!” The guy at the stove finally gets it. “Is this the girl who won you?”
The entire tone in the room changes. Now, they’re the ones who want to ask me questions.
“Did you lose a bet?”
“What did you see in him?”
“You mean, this is his idea of a date?”
I have to answer that last one since it would sort of be an insult to both of us. To him, for thinking this is a date, and to me, for accepting this as a date after paying all that money for the pleasure of his company.
“This isn’t a date. We already went out.”
“And you wanted to see him again?”
This sets off another round of laughter.
Bryce takes it well. So, his good sense of humor isn’t an act. “All right, okay. We can’t all be as charming as you losers.” He gives one of the men a playful punch on the shoulder, and they laugh together.
I wonder what these laughing, teasing men would think if they knew I once watched Bryce punch a smaller boy until he cried. That version of Bryce is as far away from the present version as we are from the moon. He’s a different person now.
Hold up now. That’s my voice of reason, a voice that sounds a lot like Hayley.
And the voice is right. I can’t let myself think about him too much, and I definitely can’t like him too much. It would feel like I was betraying my younger self.
Childish? Yes. But no less true.
The ear-splitting alarm makes me yelp in surprise. But I’m the only one since everyone’s out of the room in a flash. Even the cook after he turns off the heat under the pot. I’m left trotting behind them as they hurry to the bay.
There’s a fire somewhere.
I watch with my heart in my throat as the men put on their equipment with speed and efficiency like I’ve never seen before. Bryce is the one who gets most of my attention as he puts on his coat, his respirator, his helmet. I’m pretty sure he’s already forgotten I was ever here, and I guess that’s for the best. He needs to have his head in what he’s about to do.
What must it be like for them to suit up for a fire and have no idea exactly what they’re going to find when they arrive on the scene? Sure, they can get all the information possible before leaving and can get reports along the way.
But there’s got to be something lost in translation. There can’t be anything quite like arriving at the fire scene and seeing, feeling, battling it.
The truck’s siren rings out through the bay as the men run for the truck. Bryce looks my way just once before climbing on, and I know we’ll have to pick this up another time.
It isn’t until the truck pulls away and I follow it, stopping on the sidewalk to watch it race down the street, that I find myself hoping for the chance to see him again. Soon.
CHAPTER TEN
“You’re still the asshole I went to school with.” Nina turned her back on Larsen with a lump in her throat. A lump she hoped he hadn’t heard come through in her voice. The last thing she wanted was for him to think of her as being weak.
She wasn’t weak. She was strong, she was capable, she was miles away from the little girl she used to be.
“I’ve grown. You said so yourself.”
“I meant, physically.” She sighed, blowing a few strands of hair out of her eyes. “You grew physically.”
“I’m a man now. I was a boy then.”
He was so close. She could feel the heat from his body, even through her coat. Or was her mind playing tricks on her? Was she believing what her hormones told her was so?
“You’re still an asshole.”
“You don’t know that. For all you know, I’m the man you watched interacting with the kids you teach. You liked me then, didn’t you?”
“No,” she lied.
“You’re lying,” he whispered with laughter in his voice. “You were smiling. It was genuine. Not forced.”
“The kids didn’t need to see how I really felt about you written all over my face. Kids are very sharp. They know what’s up.”
Were they seriously talking about this?
They wouldn’t be if he hadn’t practically stalked her. Hanging out in front of the school, waiting for her to come out. He was lucky she hadn’t called the cops on him. Hell, it might still be an option. If he pulled this again, she would.
“It’s freezing out here.”
Was that his hand on her shoulder? She shook it off like his touch burned.
“No kidding. I’d be halfway home by now if it wasn’t for you being out here.”
“Sorry. I’ll let you go.” He backed away, his boots crunching the gravel under them. “I only wanted to tell you how sorry I was.”
“Yeah, you’re sorry. That does a lot of good.” She turned on her heel and walked away from him.
He didn’t deserve another second of her time. Not another breath. Nothing. He was nothing.
She stalked out of the playground and continued down the street, fists thrust into her coat pockets in an attempt to keep her hands warm. Why had he shown up? Why had he shown himself to her at all? Wasn’t seeing him again bad enough?
Wasn’t it bad enough that he was charming and adorable with the kids? That they had obviously loved him?
Why did he get to have a good life after what he had done to her and the other kids in school? When he’d given her a freaking complex she still struggled against so many years later?
“Hey.” The voice came from a truck on the street, rolling slowly to keep pace with her. “You didn’t say you’d be walking. It’s freezing out. Let me drive you home.”
Okay, so maybe I’m drawing a little too much from real life. Sue me.
Maggie thinks it’s okay. In fact, she thinks it’s a great idea to add the bully element, though my hero is the furthest thing from a bully in his adult life. He’s a firefighter who was just written up in the newspaper for saving a pair of toddlers from a house fire after their parents were unable to rescue them. Inspired by this, the heroine’s boss thought of a nice idea for a field trip for the kids. A day at the firehouse, a chance to meet a hero.
Unfortunately, the hero firefighter happens to be her childhood bully. A bully who led to her being homeschooled until college.
They have their challenges, my hero and heroine.
They also need to get it on. Fast. And hard. Because that’s the one thing Maggie keeps pushing for. Not realism. Not deeper emotion.
More sex. Sloppy, messy, graphic sex.
Maybe it’s time to consider the hate sex she suggested. These two would be perfect for that. My heroine, whose name is currently Nina—unless I come up with something I like better—hates her bully but can’t deny how hot he is. And, yes, he was great with her students when she brought them in for t
heir little visit.
Which only made him more attractive.
And he’s super attracted to her too. Not only that, but he also wants to make up for the past. He’s eager to. Desperate to in a way since he wants her. But he’ll have to break through her icy resolve in order to get what he wants.
Darn it.
I’m gonna have to ask for advice on this, aren’t I?
Which is what takes me across the hall to Matt’s front door. We haven’t really spoken since the night of the auction, which makes it almost a week now. I don’t know if he’s still annoyed with me for putting him on the spot or if he’s plotting my demise.
It could go either way.
But this is too important to let my squeamishness stop me.
“Oh, hello, stranger.” Matt leans against his front door, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans. His hair is wet and looks like he just raked his fingers through it. “You caught me just out of the shower.”
“Lucky me.” Dang it, there are still moments when his hotness catches me off guard. “You must’ve had a busy morning if you’re only getting out of the shower now.”
“What, have you memorized my schedule?”
I hate that smirk. I hate it. I hate it. At least it helps me forget his hotness. I have that working in my favor anyway. “I know you work out in the morning because you’ve told me so. And it only makes sense that you’d take a shower after working out.”
“Okay, okay. I forgot you’re a detective. So, what’s up? Are you here to thank me for lending you those books?”
I haven’t touched them since I moved them into the apartment. “Uh, no. I need some guidance on a scene I have to write.”
And that smile. That knowing smile. I could smack it off his face. “Does it have to do with silky petals?”
“No, I don’t write like that anymore.” I wish like mad that I’d never shown him the scene I was trying to write that first day, right after Maggie told me to heat things up or get used to never selling another book.
“But it has to do with sex.”
“Yes, okay? Yes, it does.” I fold my arms, lifting my brows. “So? So, you wanna know what the scene’s about or what?”
Kitty Valentine Dates a Fireman Page 6