Chapter Seven
Brady rests his arm on the console as he pulls out of my parents' driveway. Damn, if he was my boyfriend, I’d claim that hand. Play with those big, round knuckles. Check out the fireman calluses and the baseball calluses. Kiss the center of his palm.
I needed a distraction tonight, and he fits the bill.
I’m already worrying less about Lara. Mark’s been good about sending pictures every time I ask.
I got one of them on the plane and another when they arrived back at his place.
I even got an unrequested picture of Lara having dinner with my former in-laws.
“How are you hanging in there?” Brady asks.
“I’m doing okay.” I tell Brady about Lara arriving safely.
“I think this week will be good for the two of them. It gives them a chance to get reacquainted. They haven’t spent an entire week together just the two of them since he took her to Hawaii in June.
She’s grown up since then. Coming here and starting a new school has matured her.
I think they’re going to relate to one another differently. It's good for them.”
“I can see that.” He nods understandingly.
I get a touch of embarrassment. “Sorry I’m divorce-unloading. I shouldn’t be doing that to you.”
“You can unload. I don’t mind.” The way he says it, I believe him.
“Truth is, I don’t have anyone to unload to in Whispering Pines. In California, I had friends who also went through their divorces, like Gabriella.” I make a sour face, and Brady gives me a half smile.
I’m glad he knows enough about that situation that no explanation is required. “I don’t have a lot of close friends around here. My sister and her family live in Chicago. My best friend from high school moved to Austin. I guess I’ve got Jake and Daphne.”
I feel myself pausing. I wonder what Brady knows. He and Jake are friends. Maybe he knows? “Jake was my high school boyfriend.”
“Really?” Brady’s eyebrows shoot up.
“We dated for three years. We’re all friends now. Jake and I broke up when I left to go to college at USC. It’s one of those things that feels like a lifetime ago.”
Brady nods.
I feel myself unloading again, but I don’t stop. He doesn’t mind it, and I need it. “I have a few friends from the figure skating club. They live outside Whispering Pines. But we were really close in middle school and high school.”
“You were into ice skating?”
“Oh, yeah. It was my life.” Brady circles the block around the main drag, looking for a parking spot while I tell him about practices and competitions. “Do you skate?” I ask hopefully.
“I’ve thought about it.”
“What? You don’t go skating on Bearclaw Lake when it freezes?”
Brady shakes his head.
“Everyone goes.”
“Not me.” He pulls into a spot a block away from the diner.
“Fine. This winter, I’m taking you skating at the lake.” Our eyes meet. He winces as the question hits me. Will I be here in winter?
Our gazes locked, his questioning look transforms into something dark and seductive that makes my breath lighter and my insides swell. “I’ll take you up on that.”
“Good,” I say, my voice heavy with horniness I haven’t felt in forever.
Brady and I nod and wave at people we know on our way to a booth near the front window of Pines Diner.
“When are your next days on duty?” I ask over glasses of red wine no one in LA could identify because it’s not from one of the Italian regions where LA people spend their summer vacations. Hell, the wine might not even be Italian.
“I’m on tomorrow.” Brady talks about hanging out at the firehouse and doing drills. Over salads, he tells me about wildfire season and what he’s seen around Bearclaw Pass since he’s been here.
His gaze shifts to the window. I look over and find Jake and Daphne. I was so wrapped up in what Brady was saying that I didn’t notice them standing there. Jake points to Winkles Saloon on the next block and motions at us.
“Does he want us to meet them at Winkles?” I ask. There’s a curious gleam in Daphne’s eyes as she looks between Brady and I.
“I’m guessing they do.” Brady waves like he’s saying goodbye, and they wave back as they walk away.
“I feel like we’ve been outed.”
“Friends having dinner at Pines Diner?” he asks.
“We look like more than friends.”
“Yeah, I think so.” A shy, charming look comes over his features that makes me want to melt into the booth. “So, how did you end up fighting fires in Whispering Pines?”
“You want that story?”
“Yeah, that one.” I sit back and eye him like I’ve tricked him into revealing his deepest, darkest secrets. And, god, I hope I have.
There’s nothing I don’t want to know about Brady. I want to go deep into him. What’s it like to feel his lips on my neck? His body on top of mine? I want us to know how his hips move, and how he fucks when he’s so turned on he can’t think straight.
God, I want him to break me. I’ll put my heart on the line. I’ll pine for him when I move back to LA or when he finds a woman whose investment doesn’t get burned down and whose ex-husband isn’t hard to manage and whose friends don’t betray her trust.
I’m tired of taking hits. All this forcing myself into a posture of invulnerability has drained me. I’m desperate for soft and gushy.
Does he want to bring out that side of me? Is he that interested?
The server brings us plates of eggplant parmigiana and bowls of pasta.
I twirl a forkful, and Brady talks about getting drafted after his junior year of college and deciding not to finish his degree.
The Sharks took him on, but he got injured a few weeks into playing for their triple-A team.
The following season he suffered another tear on the same hamstring, which meant he didn’t play in the Majors until his third season.
In his fourth season, he tore the hamstring a final time and called it quits on his baseball career.
“I spent a year brooding in LA. My life got pretty pathetic. My girlfriend from college, who came down to LA to live with me, decided we were better apart. Or, make that, she decided she was better off with a waiter who was between acting jobs. How pathetic am I to lose out to that guy?”
“She’s the pathetic one.”
“She wanted to have her fun. We dated for six years. She's married now. Has two kids. They live in Phoenix. On social media, her life looks perfect. I’m happy for her.”
I give him a flirty once-over. “Me too.”
He gives me another one of his charming grins, and a raw, needy intensity builds inside me. Should I seduce him? Throw myself at him? Talk dirty until he’s tearing off my clothes with his teeth?
I feel myself touching my neck, letting my hand drift back to my nape. Brady watches, his gaze dark. Is this how I cast a spell on him?
The server brings us bowls of pistachio ice cream covered in hot fudge. Brady tells me about soul searching in Seattle and volunteering for wildland fire crews in the Pacific Northwest.
“One thing led to another, and I entered the Fire Academy.”
“But it’s so dangerous.” I scoop up a bite of the sweet, nutty green ice cream and thick fudge.
“There's danger. There’s also training and know-how and trusting your crew. Those things mitigate the danger. I've been doing this for eight years, and no one I’ve worked with has gotten seriously injured. Everyone's very careful.”
He makes it sound like any normal job, which it’s not. “You get to be a hero. You saved Ollie from getting burned or worse. He could’ve died out there. My family thinks you’re the greatest.”
He shakes his head. “It’s a job, a good one for me. I like the intensity and the challenge. I think most of all, I like living in Whispering Pines.” He glances around the diner. “People are good to each other. They respect each other. They’ve got each other’s backs.”
I set my spoon next to my empty bowl. “I think ultimately that's the reason I moved back here. I wanted to be in a place where Lara and I would feel secure. That feeling of people having your back is hard to come by in LA, especially if you're not from there.”
“I know what you mean. I felt lost in LA. In Whispering Pines, everyone knows each other and they have their fights and their opinions. But when it comes down to helping one another, there’s no question. People step up for each other.”
I look down at our empty bowls. I don't want this night to end. I don’t want to go back to Mom and Dad’s place and worry about Lara and fires while wishing I was with Brady.
“I know you’ve got work tomorrow, but does that mean you have to go to bed early?”
“Nope. Ah, what do you have in mind?” The hot firefighter’s cheeks darken.
“A drink at Winkles? Is that okay?”
“Yeah, I can go for a beer at Winkles.”
The night carries a sharp bite of autumn chill. We head in the direction of Winkles’ neon sign on the next block. Should I take Brady’s arm? Hold his hand?
“Oh, god,” I say, stopping in my tracks as the realization hits. “When people see us walk in there together, they’re gonna think we’re announcing ourselves as a couple.”
Brady shrugs. “Let them think what they’re going to think.”
“I guess Jake and Daphne probably already told everyone we were having dinner at Pines.”
“Then they know.” His fingers brush mine, and desire warms me in soft waves. We weave our fingers together. His hands are manly, callused everywhere, and thick. These are hands that take care of people, save lives, and score home runs.
He could score one with me.
Winkles Saloon on Friday night is packed as usual. It smells like wood soaked in beer and decades of tobacco smoke. I can almost make out the lyrics from a Carrie Underwood song under the laughter and conversation.
We get the same side glances everyone gets when they enter.
No one faints or stares outright. There are a few familiar faces, but no one I have to say hi to or they’ll think I’m snubbing.
Jake waves us over to the bar where he’s standing with a group of guys, a few of them from high school “Well, well.” He whistles, nodding at our joined hands. “Check out the new couple.”
“You two,” Daphne says, appearing at his side. “I mean, wow. I didn’t know, but it’s great.” She gives me a big Daphne squeeze. “I heard Lara went back in LA.”
“She left this afternoon. It’s good for her to get away. I take it you heard about the fire yesterday?”
“We all did. I’m so sorry you’re going through all this.” She looks over at Brady, who’s chatting with Jake. “But you’ve got a great guy?” She looks like she's dying for the tea.
I'm not pouring. “Yeah, Brady's an amazing fireman. He rescued Ollie Barnes from a burning forest.”
“Oh my god. That’s horrible. I didn’t know he was in that much danger.” Daphne furrows her brow. “How are you handling all this?”
“Fine. For now, I’m staying at my parents’ place and trying to figure out my next move.”
“I heard it was arson? Is that true?”
I shrug. “That’s the theory at this point.”
“If you need anything, you must let me know.” She hugs me again. “Now, get yourself a drink.”
“I will.” As I say the words, Brady hands me one of the two bottles he’s holding. We find an empty table across from the pool table. It’s private and quiet enough.
We clink bottles, and I take a nice, long sip. The beer cools me down. No one is staring at us. People are in their groups, chatting away. Brady sits back and takes a swig of beer. “Confession time. You’ve got me nervous about ice skating this winter.”
“Afraid of a little ice, Firefighter? You only like things that are hot?”
“Well, when you put it that way, it kinda makes sense.”
In the time we take to finish the beers, we tease and laugh about our ice-skating competition this winter.
“You've got to be at work tomorrow,” I say with a nod at his empty bottle.
“Yeah, unfortunately this is one-beer night.” He brushes my hands with his knuckly fingers. “How about we get you home?” There’s an invitation in his gaze for something hot and dirty, and I’m dying for it.
“Yeah, lets.”
We make it through the gauntlet of goodbyes and back out into the cool night. Only I’m not cold because I’m holding Brady’s hand and leaning against him.
We cross the street to the next block. “How do you feel about everyone in town knowing we’re more than friends?”
I glance up at his hair blowing around his collar. It would feel so good between my fingers. “Friends with benefits?”
“Yeah, Sammy. I want those benefits.”
His words hit every one of my erotic places. “Me, too.”
We get to his SUV. In the blink of an eye, I’m backed up against the door, and his body is flush against mine. His leg rises between my knees. I take him by the shoulders as we crash in spectacular, hot, desperate kisses.
Needy sensations flood my core. I wrap my arms around his midsection, molding myself to the curve of his body.
His erection, hard and high, presses against me.
He moans. Our kisses get slower, deeper, and more sensual.
The horniness I had earlier is nothing compared to this bone-deep longing. “God, you’re a good kisser.”
“I was going to say the same thing about you.” He nuzzles my neck and lays kisses over my skin.
What if he didn't have work tomorrow? Would I go back to his place tonight?
Yes, absolutely.
I ease back from his mouth. He’s in a daze of plain, almost unhinged, lust. Exactly how I want him.
I move my body against his, seductively, teasing his erection. “You make me want to lose control.”
“You can lose control any time you like with me.” He wiggles his leg between my thighs.
“How about at your place?”
“Definitely at my place.” He nudges his knee up to my pussy.
I moan at the blissful pressure of the very welcome intrusion. “Then take me back to your place and make love to me.” The words flow out. No doubts intervene to apply the brakes. No fears raise a barricade to stop the truth.
He captures my mouth in a hungry kiss. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”