Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
“Ow!” Laurel dropped the knife she’d been using to trim broccoli florets. It fell onto the kitchen counter with a clatter. “Cranberries!”
She’d just sliced through her left index finger because she hadn’t been paying attention. Instead of concentrating on what she’d been doing, she’d been thinking about a certain fireman and what Amy had told her about him at school this morning….
“I met him on that ski trip to Brundage I took in February,” Amy said. “We hooked up.”
“Wait. That was Jake?” Laurel remembered when Amy had told her about “the hottest guy she’d ever laid eyes on.” Amy had rented a cabin in McCall, Idaho, about eight miles from Brundage ski resort, and had gone to Lardo’s Grill for dinner after a day on the slopes. She said she’d noticed him sitting a few tables over, then ran into him later, when she and her friends stopped by Foresters for a drink after dinner.
Apparently, they’d slept together that night resulting in multiple orgasms—mind-blowing orgasms, according to Amy—and she’d never heard from him since.
“If he wants to go out with you,” Amy had said, “definitely go. I promise, he’ll burn down the bed! It’s not that I was expecting to hear from him again, but the vibe I got was, don’t expect to hear from him again.”
“So, what’re you saying? You think he’s a player?”
“I think he’s effing Beethoven, but, wow, can that man play those keys!”
Laurel ripped a paper towel off of the roll and squeezed it around her finger. The pressure helped the pain, but blood soaked through the white paper in seconds.
Hearing Amy dub Jake a player had brought a surprisingly intense rush of disappointment. Figures she’d meet a guy who could make her melt in her shoes with one simple kiss, and he was a good-time guy.
Says Amy. She’s not looking for a relationship, and like she’d said, she hadn’t been expecting to hear from him. Maybe they’d agreed upon that up front.
Moving to the sink, Laurel turned on the water and held her finger under the stream. When the water hit the cut, she hissed in a breath as pain shot through her hand, the sting bringing tears to her eyes. She pumped some soap into her hand and gingerly washed out the cut, wincing every time her fingers touched it. It wasn’t deep, but dang, it hurt! Luckily, she’d gotten a tetanus booster before the school year had started.
I’m not looking for a relationship either.
Good thing because she basically sucked at relationships. On the flip side, she was incredibly talented at picking men who—plain and simple—simply sucked.
After rinsing away the soap, she turned off the water and grabbed another paper towel. She was wrapping it around her finger when her cell phone rang. Instantly, her senses went on high alert.
She stared at the phone lying on the other end of the counter, debating whether or not to answer.
It’s not him. Get real.
But what if it was?
Chewing her bottom lip, she walked over to the phone and peered at the screen to find Skye’s face smiling up at her. She picked it up and hit accept with her thumb.
“Hey, Skye.”
“Did he call yet?”
Laurel ignored the question and sarcastically responded, “I’m fine. How are you?”
“Who cares? Did Mr. Not Some Guy call?”
Laurel rolled her eyes. Too bad Skye couldn’t see. “No, and he’s not going to. It’s been two days.” Not that she was counting.
“Maybe he couldn’t remember your number,” Skye rationalized. “You should’ve gotten his. Ooo, maybe you can call the fire station and get it from them.”
“I’m not doing that!”
“You should.”
Laurel’s call waiting beeped in her ear. It wasn’t a number she recognized, but as long as it got her out of this awkward conversation, she’d gladly listen to a spiel about timeshares. “Skye, someone’s calling. Gotta go.”
Laurel heard Skye’s “Call me back,” right as she punched the screen to switch over the other call. She’d used the index finger she’d tried to amputate without thinking.
“Fudge, that hurts!”
“What hurts? What’s wrong?”
No way.
“Are you okay?”
“Jake?” she asked tentatively. Maybe she was hearing things because of the pain.
“Yeah, it’s me. Answer the question,” he ordered. “Are you okay? Do you need me to come over?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Besides, you don’t know where I live.”
A horrible thought entered her mind. Skye wouldn’t have given him her address too, would she?
“You don’t know, do you?” she asked. If he said yes, she was going to strangle her best friend.
“How would I? But tell me, and I’ll come over.”
Laurel looked down at her sad blue robe that’d seen better days. After getting home from work, she’d showered and changed into her jammies. “I don’t want you to come over.”
“Are you okay?” He said the words deliberately, punctuating them like they were of the utmost importance.
The genuine concern in his voice worked like a salve, dulling the throbbing of her finger.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just sliced my finger open, cutting broccoli.” Which was her own fault. She’d made all her dinners for the week yesterday, but nooo, she had to have broccoli tonight. She should’ve stuck with what she’d made and none of this would’ve happened. Better yet, she should’ve kept her mind off the possibility of a certain fireman calling.
Holy hotcakes!
“Do you need stitches?”
He’d actually called!
“No, it’s not that bad.”
“Are you sure? I can come over and take a look. I’m an EMT.”
“I thought you were a fireman.”
“I am,” he confirmed. “But I’m also a certified EMT. We all are.”
“Why do you want to come to my house so badly?” she asked. “Are you a serial killer or something?”
He snorted. “God, now you sound like Emery. She’s obsessed with serial killers.”
“That’s not disturbing at all. Who’s Emery?”
“ Not my girlfriend,” he said, guessing her thoughts. “She’s my sister’s best friend. Why do you keep assuming I have a girlfriend?”
“I never said I thought she was.” But I wondered.
“Uh-huh.” The amusement in his voice was unmistakable. “Why would I be calling you if I had a girlfriend?”
She sat down at the small table she’d purchased at a second-hand store. “Why are you calling me?”
“How else am I supposed to ask you out? Unless you want me to come over and do it in person cuz I’d?—”
“I’m not giving you my address.” She smiled. The guy was tenacious, she’d give him that.
“Right. Serial killer. Gotcha.”
A laugh bubbled up before she could stop it. “I don’t know you.”
“No reason not to go out with me, then,” he rationalized. “Most killers know their victims, so you’re safe.”
“Not the best argument,” she said, “since I’m apparently safer if I don’t know you.”
“Touché, but we’ve met three times,” he pointed out. “That constitutes knowing in my book.”
“So, now I need a restraining order and a bodyguard?”
The deep rumble of his laugh heated her body. How could a laugh turn her on? The man was lethal.
“Let me take you out.”
“I don’t know...”
“We can go someplace public.”
Should I?
“With lots of witnesses.” He drew the word “lots” out for so long, it warranted its own zip code.
She laughed. She had to admit, talking with him was fun.
What’s the worst that can happen? Aside from being murdered, and all.
“If you’re worried about me stuffing you in my trunk, how ’bout a double date?”
This is the weirdest conversation ever.
“A double date?” She hadn’t been on one of those since high school.
“With Emery and Gage. Officer Bennett,” Jake clarified. “You’ve met him, and you’d like Em.”
“Wait. The serial killer lover is dating a cop?”
“It works for them,” he said. “I’ll tell him to bring his gun. That should make you feel safe. If I pull out a knife, he can take me out.”
“Oh, my heck, you’re crazy.” She giggled.
“And persistent,” he added. “ Very persistent. You don’t stand a chance.”
The guy wasn’t lacking in the confidence department, that’s for sure. It was sexy.
She caved. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“As long as he brings his gun.”
“Done. How ’bout Friday night? I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“I’m not giving you my address, but nice try.”
“Shit. Guess I won’t need my duct tape and ski mask, then.”
She was smiling so much, her cheeks hurt. “Guess not.”
“Let me talk to Gage, and I’ll call you back. Anything you hate eating?”
“Sushi.” She wrinkled her nose. “I can’t do raw fish.”
“I knew you were perfect for me.”
She wasn’t expecting the giddiness that statement conjured.
“Talk to you soon, Princess.”