“Oh, too bad but yeah as luck would have it I can do that.” Mandy smiled.
The photo shoot began a few minutes later, with Mr. January going first, one of the youngest recruits at twenty-two. He wore a helmet, a pair of work pants and not a whole lot more. During the shoot, Diana fired off a few questions, asking where he was from and how he’d decided to be a firefighter.
A few minutes later Diana turned to see a beautiful woman next to her, wearing a firefighter hat, short work pants and a bikini top covered in red hearts. “Hi, I’m Julie. Ms. February.”
She was thin, with her own rather impressive set of abs. “I’m Diana. I’m writing an article about the calendar.”
“I remember you,” Julie said. “I was there the night of the rescue. Hey, sorry about the video. Some people are jerks.”
“Thanks,” Diana said. “I think it will die down after a while.”
“Sure, someone will post a video of their talking dog or cat. You know how it is.” Julie laughed.
Mandy sidled up to Julie. “Tell the truth. How hard is it to get through the fire academy?”
“Are you thinking of applying?” Julie asked.
“Yes,” Mandy answered without hesitation.
“You can’t be serious,” Diana said.
“I am serious. There’s nothing funny about fire safety,” Mandy said with a frown.
Yet Mandy had once sobbed when she’d snagged her nail on a dress. Julie was interesting, though. A woman in such a male-dominated profession. Diana needed more time with Julie. “Can I make an appointment to interview you sometime? For the article I’m writing?”
“Of course!”
Diana’s thoughts next went to Scott, and she wondered where he’d be hiding. Her desire to keep things platonic didn’t mean she couldn’t have a good look at what was under his shirt. After all, he’d already seen pretty much all of her assets. It was high time to return the favor. After Julie’s shoot, which included some racy photos of her leaning over a fake fire hose while holding a bottle of Serrano’s Riesling, Evan threw up his hands.
“Great. I was just told that we have to get all the Christmas shit out now because Mr. December is tired of waiting and has to be back at the station. So, you know, let’s just make his life easier. Who cares about me?”
Mandy, to her credit, hustled and got the Christmas stuff out in record time, helping Evan set it up. There were garlands and white twinkling fairy lights for background, a Charlie Brown tree and even fake presents. Diana heard what she recognized as Ty’s voice carrying through the room as he walked in.
“Ho, ho, ho, motherfuckers.”
He had on work boots, fireman pants and nothing else.
“Oh. My. Gawd.” Mandy said.
Diana glanced from Mandy’s lustful expression to Ty’s, zeroed in on Mandy. The two were locked in some kind of hoodoo-voodoo lust lock.
“Mandy, please go put the Santa hat on him,” Evan said from behind the camera.
“W-what?” Mandy asked.
“The Santa hat?” Evan repeated.
“You heard him,” Diana said, feeling one of the biggest grins she’d had in weeks coming on. “Go put on the Santa hat.”
Mandy leaned in and whispered to Diana, “I’m scared. He looks like he might eat me alive.”
“God be with you,” Diana said and shoved her sister towards the big hulk of a man.
Mandy put the Santa hat on Ty. At that moment, he brandished a cigar from his pocket.
“No cigar!” Evan shouted. “Sorry, but we’re pushing alcohol today, not tobacco products.”
Ty didn’t take the cigar out, but instead stared intently at Mandy, and seemed to be daring her to take it from him.
“Um, I need this?” Mandy put her hand on the cigar in his mouth.
He let her take it from his mouth, grinning mischievously. “I’ll need that back.”
Mandy scurried to Diana’s side with the cigar.
“Can I ask you a few questions about being a firefighter?” Diana asked as Evan set up the shot.
“Ask all you want. It doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”
Great. “What made you decide to be a firefighter?”
“I wasn’t pretty enough to be a model. But I don’t know. This could be my lucky break.” He smiled and winked at Mandy, looking a little wolfish.
Mandy went back and handed him a bottle of wine in place of the cigar.
“I guess you’re not going to be serious about this,” Diana directed to Ty. “I asked you a question.”
“And I gave you an answer. Next question.” Ty held the bottle of wine in a decidedly obscene way.
“Okay, stop that,” Evan objected. “Here, hand him a fake wine glass. Take the bottle from him. Hurry. Now.”
Mandy went back up to Ty, this time it seemed a little less fearful. They exchanged a few words which no one else could hear and Mandy took the bottle and gave him the glass to hold.
A few more photos later and Ty was excused. He ripped the cigar out of Mandy’s clutches. “See you all later. I’m sure there’s a fire somewhere.”
Diana glanced down at her notes. She had nothing. Rookie was fresh out of high school when he joined up in an open call. One of the lucky ones. Julie hadn’t been able to talk much, given that Evan had directed her every move the entire time, and Ty had been a jerk about the whole thing.
“What were you guys talking about when you went up there?”
“He asked me if I wanted to sit on his lap.” Mandy answered.
“What did you say?”
Mandy smiled. “I told him I would but what I want Santa can’t deliver.”
“You didn’t. Way to be professional. You’re supposed to be my assistant. Stop flirting!”
“Fine. You’re no fun, you know?” Mandy crossed her arms.
Evan covered his face with his hands. “Now they tell me Mr. September won’t take his shirt off. Did no one tell him it’s a firefighter’s calendar? I swear I’ve worked with divas that weren’t this much trouble.”
Mr. September?
“What do you want me to do?” Mandy asked. “Should I go find him and rip it off? I don’t mind, really.”
“No!” Diana said. “I’ll go talk to Scott.”
“Wait. Scott is Mr. September?” Mandy asked. “How do I not know this?”
“Go ahead, Diana” Evan said. “But try to hurry it up. I think I’ve got four months until we get to September.”
This didn’t make any sense. She’d never have pegged Scott to want extra attention, so something else had to be wrong. “There has to be a logical explanation. I’ll find out.”
She walked to the area where some of the firefighters were waiting their turn, but didn’t see Scott in the vicinity.
“If you’re looking for your prince, he went inside his brother’s house. It’s the owner’s suite right back there.” A smartass pointed.
“Thanks so much.” She’d seen the “Someday my Prince Will Come” video too. It was probably her favorite.
She knocked on the door to the suite and heard Scott call out, “Come in!”
Inside the suite was larger than it had appeared. It wasn’t wide, but it went deep. The front living area was spotless and beautifully decorated in splashes of color every few feet. A red couch, burnt orange drapes. She followed sounds toward the kitchen and found Scott near the counter, making a mess. A mayonnaise jar sat on the counter top with its top off, and a lunch meat packet half opened. He was reaching inside a bag of hoagie bread.
Like the others, he wore his fireman gear pants, khaki ones with the yellow stripes, and a plain brown t-shirt. Diana cleared her throat, both to get his attention and snap out of her lust haze. “Are you eating? Now?”
“I’m hungry. Brooke’s too busy out there to banish me from the kitchen, and I think Billy’s at practice with his team.” He slathered some mayo on a slice of bread.
She laughed a little. “Okay. Now I don’t know what’s going on here,
but you do know they want your photo soon?”
“We have four months to go.”
“That’s going to go by fast.”
He nodded as he opened the fridge. “No worries. In four months, I hope to have this sandwich eaten.”
“So what’s this about? You won’t take your shirt off? You do know it’s a firefighters calendar? You have seen those before, right?”
“Sure. But maybe I don’t like being objectified.”
“All right. So you’re being a smartass. I don’t get why you’re being so difficult. Just take your shirt off and make everybody happy.” Including her, if she was being honest. Did she want to see him with his shirt off? Yes, one could say that about her.
He turned to her. “I don’t want to take my t-shirt off. I have my reasons, and they’re good ones.”
“Look,” Diana said, trying to find her courage, “The other night—let’s just say that I could tell you should be proud of what you’ve got under there.”
He took a bite of his sandwich and smiled through it. “Still not taking it off.”
“It’s not like you’re trying to hide it. I’m pretty sure if I’d stayed any longer I was about to see you with your shirt off. And I don’t think you were going to be shy about it either.”
“You’re right about that, but you can see me with my shirt off any time you like. That’s not an issue.”
“Are you saying you’re selective about who can see you with your shirt off?” This was getting stranger by the second. “Stop playing games and take your damn shirt off.”
He didn’t answer, but set the sandwich down and walked till he was just inches from her. The old Diana might have backed up, but oh no, he wasn’t going to push her around. No sir, no intimidation here. She had metaphorical balls, and she wasn’t going to let one hot firefighter guy let her forget it. Even if his standing so close to her, oozing his utter maleness, was turning her brain into swiss cheese.
“You’re a bossy one. Why don’t you take it off?”
Her mouth was suddenly parched. She wasn’t even sure what shirt he referred to anymore. Cripes, it was hot in here. “You want me to take your shirt off? Or do you want me to take my shirt off? Because the second one’s not going to happen.”
“I think they both sound good.” He grinned.
Before she could say another word, he took her hand and led it to the hem of his shirt. She didn’t understand why he would play this silly game with her. Sure, it was fun, but there were people waiting. But then he was helping her slowly lift the shirt off. When it came off, he didn’t break eye contact. There was no shame in his eyes, not at all, but when her eyes dropped down she immediately noticed a large patch of scarring just below his right pec, which came down to the side of his abs. She wondered what battle it had been and whether or not he’d lost any friends. He was not going to talk about it, that much she already realized. No point in asking.
“Oh. Well, maybe this could be covered with make-up. For the photo shoot.”
For the first time since she’d been a victim of someone’s video camera, it dawned on Diana that she wasn’t the only one upset by all the attention. If he was anxious to hide his battle scars, he was not interested in being anyone’s hero. The scarring made him more attractive to her because it showed he’d lived a full life and as far as she could tell had no regrets. It was the kind of life she wanted to live and he’d already done it.
He threw the shirt on the ground. “Make-up? Hell, no. Look, I just don’t want it to start all over again.”
“What do you mean ‘it’?”
He grimaced and stepped back. “All the attention. When I came back from my last tour four years ago, people asked me about it all the time. It had been in the paper, so it was all people would talk about.”
“A roadside bomb?”
“Yeah. My team was mostly fine, thanks to the MRAP. This was just a spray of shrapnel when I— never mind. I don’t give a shit about it, except I don’t want any questions. I don’t want to look like some kind of a war hero, which I’m not.”
She could see why he didn’t want anyone to see it. It invited too many questions for someone averse to giving answers. But the scarring was easy to ignore and not at all unattractive, mostly due to the six pack abs and the man who owned them. It had become a raging inferno in this blasted apartment. She needed to change the subject before she wound up licking him slowly, starting at his neck and making her way down him like he was a giant Popsicle. Had she mentioned how hot it was in here?
“I don’t get it. Why did you agree to do the calendar?” She tore her gaze up to meet his eyes.
“I’d rather not say. Ty just had something over me. Let’s leave it at that.” She became vaguely aware of the fact that he’d stepped closer and taken her hand in his.
“Not fair. It should be your choice.” She squeezed his hand.
“It is. I made my choice. You can touch me if you want, you know.” He might have noticed her staring.
“I don’t want to,” she lied. “There are people waiting. I would bet at least two months have already passed.”
Ignoring that, he took her hand and placed it on his chest, straight over his wildly beating heart. “Feel that? It’s what you do to me.”
What he did to her was equally impressive. A surge of longing hit her hard, spreading to the back of her knees. They felt liquefied. Useless. “Scott—”
He used his lips to interrupt her, closing the small distance between them and lifting her up on the balls of her feet. His kiss was heady and intoxicating, his mouth firm and insistent. Nothing about this felt new or awkward. Instead she found that she reached for him too, threading fingers through his hair, tugging him even closer. Forgetting everything. Forgetting herself.
“Scott! You better not be making a mess in the kitchen. Oh geez, I’ve got to pee again.” Brooke’s voice could be heard from the front of the apartment.
Scott pulled away, groaning. “Sounds like she went straight into the guest bathroom.”
“We need to get back.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “I wasn’t done here.”
“Me neither,” she admitted, “but that’s not the point. The point is, I have an idea.”
8
Scott put his shirt back on and hustled Diana out of the apartment before Brooke saw them both. He’d clean up the rest of his mess later or Brooke would find him, no doubt. First he had to apologize to Diana for getting grabby. Outside the apartment, he squeezed Diana’s hand. “Hey, sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Kissed me?”
“You pretty much asked me not to. Remember?”
“Oh yeah. You’re right, you shouldn’t have done that.”
Now that they’d established he shouldn’t kiss her again he felt one hundred percent better. Either that or he was a first class expert at lying to himself. “What’s your idea?”
“I need a helmet, and one of those yellow jackets.” She pointed towards one sitting by Benny.
“The turnout gear?” he asked.
“Yes, all of it.”
He grabbed his jacket and helmet from where he’d left it. Diana pulled him around to the side where there were no other people nearby, where she ripped his shirt off, this time with zero hesitation. He could definitely get used to that.
“Put on the jacket,” she ordered.
“Again with the bossy. Won’t lie, it’s kind of a turn-on. Especially when you’re taking off my clothes. But if they don’t want me to wear a shirt, why would they be happy with this jacket?”
“It’s all about product placement,” Diana said with a gleam in her eye.
A few minutes later, he was in front of the annoyed photographer—apparently they were a month late—the jacket strategically pulled opened to reveal he had no shirt on underneath.
“I see what you mean,” a tall blonde next to Diana said.
He didn’t know what they were talking about, but the blonde came up
to him with a bottle of Brooke’s wine. “Who are you?” he asked.
“That’s my sister, Mandy,” Diana explained from a few feet away. “She’s helping. At least, she’d like to think so.”
Mandy shot Diana a dirty look, then turned to him and whispered. “Her right elbow is extremely ticklish.”
“What are you saying to him? Get back over here and stop flirting!”
The photographer snapped away, while Scott tried to get into beefcake mode. The whole deal felt unnatural. He at least felt gratified that Diana hadn’t blinked at his scars. It was nothing less than he’d expected from her. The few women who had seen his scar had cried and called him a hero. Huge turn-off when he had friends with missing limbs. Then there was Jake.
His scars didn’t show up on the outside.
But Scott’s scars hadn’t had any real effect on Diana. Thankfully, the rest of him had. He hadn’t been so turned on by a woman’s open gawking in a long-ass time. Too bad Brooke had interrupted. For someone who was taking a break from all men, Diana’s body had reacted to his in spades this afternoon. She was taller than most women, and it didn’t take much to pull her up to him. When he had, he could feel her trembling under his touch.
He did like being useful.
“Scott Turlock!”
Scott turned to the sound of Brooke’s voice and saw her at the entrance to the cottage, hands on her hips. She’d obviously found the mess in the kitchen. “I hope I’m done here, folks. I’ve got KP duty.”
He threw a glance at Diana, who met his eyes and smiled back. Brooke followed him out the door, probably to make sure he didn’t cut corners. She would have been a high ranking officer, no doubt, had she chosen the military life. Inside his brother’s apartment, he changed back into his t-shirt and put away the mayonnaise jar, lunch meat and bread rolls.
“I was hungry. Billy always tells me to help myself.”
“When are you not hungry?” Brooke laughed.
“There are times.”
“When you’re sleeping?”
“Good one.” Billy loved Brooke, so Scott had to also. It was in the brother contract. Most of the time it was easy, but since she’d been pregnant Brooke hadn’t really been acting like herself.
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