Page 23 of The Night Belongs To Fireman

Sanity returned in a cold wash of horror. He backed off, putting his hands on her shoulders to set her away from him. That was a mistake, since the feel of her made him instantly hard. “I have to go,” he said, releasing her and taking a big step backward.

“I’m sorry,” she said, putting a hand to her lips, astonished. “I didn’t mean to—”

“That’s okay. I didn’t mean to either—” He broke off, completely unsure of what he wanted to say. “I mean, it was me. It was both of us.” He should cancel Friday night. Bad, bad idea. No way could he have her in his house and not try to kiss her again. And kissing couldn’t happen again.

He opened his mouth to call it off, but instead uttered the words, “I’ll see you Friday at eight.”

Holy fuck. That wasn’t calling it off. That was the opposite. What was wrong with him?

She bit her lower lip, looking troubled. Good. If she was going to back out, he should let her. It would be better for both of them.

Courtney’s angry face filled his mind’s eye. She’d be furious, even if he hadn’t initiated the kiss. She’d grill him about it, then explain why a “trial separation” didn’t include kissing other people. He’d be expected to buy her something, or go get mani-pedis with her, or go to one of her business school keggers. God, he’d probably get back together with her out of sheer guilt.

Everything in him rebelled, and he knew right then, with complete certainty, that he’d had enough. One way or another, he had to make Courtney understand they were through.

A little whimper from Stan brought him back to the moment.

“Friday at eight,” he said in a slightly choked voice, then wheeled around, Stan at his heels. He quickly gave her his address before she could say anything else. “I just have to take care of something first.”

Rachel closed her office door behind her and leaned against it. What on earth had possessed her to kiss Fred? She never initiated kisses, and usually waited a long time before letting anyone kiss her. When other girls complained about men wanting them for sex, Rachel felt the opposite. In her case, sex was way down on the list of what guys wanted from her. Most of the men she dated came from her father’s world and thought of her as Rob Kessler’s daughter, with all the connections and advantages that brought. In San Gabriel, as Rachel Allen, she didn’t date much; it felt dishonest.

This kiss was totally different. For a moment, it had been sheer magic, as if some sort of enchanted spell had sprung to life around them. Then he’d ended it so abruptly.

Maybe he’d been as shocked as she was. She hadn’t intended anything like that. The kiss had been meant as a thank-you for saving her, for saving her friends. Really, she’d been aiming for his cheek. She wasn’t sure what had happened along the way. The closer she’d gotten, the more aware she’d become of his hard body, the smell of his skin, the strong tendons that stretched from his neck to his shoulders, the sturdy health he exuded, the firm curves of his mouth …

Yes, that’s where the problem had started. His mouth.

Once she’d been leaning against him, her lips on his, nothing had triggered the panicked desire to run that often flooded her when she got close to someone. The opposite, in fact. She’d had a very strong urge to climb his body like a monkey. It was a good thing he’d stepped back in such a hurry, or he might have found himself playing jungle tree.

On her desk, her phone made the little buzz that meant someone had called while she’d been out. Strange, she never forgot her phone. She always had it with her, for her father’s peace of mind. If Fred the Fireman had made her forget her phone, he’d accomplished one more astonishing first.

It wasn’t a call, but a text message from Bradford Maddox IV, one of the Refuge’s board members and a friend of her father. Saw you on TV. Glad everyone’s okay. Please advise regarding new wedding date. Looking forward to escorting you to the happy event.

Ugh. In all the drama of the accident, she’d forgotten that Bradford was taking her to Cindy’s wedding. But the worst part was that he’d seen her on TV. Did she have to tell her father about that? If she did, he’d insist she get an extra bodyguard, and there would go her freedom. Such as it was.

Good Lord, couldn’t she just have one tiny sliver of a normal life? Maybe a sliver the size of one evening at a cute fireman’s house? Cute didn’t really cover it, she was beginning to realize. Outrageously attractive was better.

Yes, she’d wait until after her dinner at Fred’s. Then she’d let her father know about Bradford’s text.

Chapter 7

Rachel kept a close eye on the news over the next couple of days. Everyone seemed to have forgotten about the runaway bridesmaid, but the stories about Fred just kept on coming. Every other day, it seemed, another dire situation occurred and Fred the Bachelor Hero saved the day.

First came a surprise May storm, which sent rain lashing across Rachel’s picture windows and caused flash flooding on the highway that led to the desert. An elderly woman who was heading out to view the wildflowers got trapped in her car by quickly rising floodwaters. The entire rescue was caught by a camera in a hovering helicopter.

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