Dallas Fire & Rescue_Stealing his Fire Read online

  But damn it, she didn’t want to.

  For the first time in a long time, she was enjoying herself, and Rowen was her neighbor and her friend. That was it. Nothing more. Tomorrow wasn’t a date, they were just going to sit together.

  Yeah, right.

  She pushed all the crazy thoughts from her head as she hurried to get out all the ingredients. Guacamole was such an easy thing to make, she almost felt guilty that was all she was bringing, until she looked at the pile of avocados on her counter.

  Her kitchen had been recently updated with all new stainless-steel appliances, which was nice, but she wasn’t overly fond of the burnt-orange tint of the cabinets that cast a fiery glow on her black, speckled countertops. As soon as she had the money, she’d be replacing those ugly cabinets for white ones, which would look gorgeous against the granite top.

  “Knock, knock,” Rowen said, holding two bottles of beer in his hand as he pulled open the back door. “What shall I do?”

  “Chop onions.” She pointed to the cutting board with five red onions and a knife waiting to make a grown man cry. She giggled at the thought.

  “What’s so funny?”

  She looked up at him and his soft smile sent all sorts of tingly messages to places in her body a man had not touched in a long time. “You chopping onions and crying.”

  “If you don’t touch your face while chopping them up, your eyes won’t water.”

  She glanced between the onions and Rowen. “Might work for one onion, but I’ll bet you tears will be rolling down your cheeks by the time you hit the fifth onion.”

  “Oh, you are so gonna loose,” he said as he lifted the knife, slicing down the middle of one of the onions. “But let’s make this fun. If I don’t cry, you have to wash my truck.”

  “That’s an odd bet.” She cut open an avocado, focusing on the task at hand, not the man handling an onion.

  “It’s dirty and I was planning on doing it in the morning. If you do it, I can watch some college football before the picnic.”

  “I’d have to do it in the morning?”

  He nodded.

  “And if you cry, and I win?”

  “Name it.”

  “Hmmmmmmm. My car isn’t dirty, so…” Mentally, she went through her long to do list around the house, but nothing really jumped out at her, until she moved her thoughts to her office. “Do you know anything about commercial fire alarms?”

  “A little. I have cousins who own a security company. Why?”

  “The one in the office is busted. I have to get it fixed and the company that does the monitoring says it’s not their equipment, so they’re not responsible for it.”

  “I don’t know if I could do that tomorrow and I work Sunday, but I could stop by on my way home on Monday and take a look.” He nudged her with his hip. “But only if I cry.” He waved the onion under his nose. “Smells so good.”

  “You are so weird.”

  He laughed.

  Minutes ticked by and the man hadn’t shed a single tear. Not even a little water pooled up in the corner. She mashed the avocado in a big bowl, adding in the other ingredients, including some of the onions he’d chopped up. Tears stung her eyes.

  He set the knife down and leaned against the counter. “Looks like someone’s going to be washing a truck in the morning.”

  “Wonderful,” she said as she put the guacamole in containers.

  Rowen moved to the sink. She was about to tell him not to bother with the dishes, but then she remembered she’d be washing his truck. “I can only imagine what Mrs. Baker is going to say that Suzie will misconstrue.”

  “Oh, that’s easy,” Rowan said, his biceps flexing as he scrubbed the cutting board. “It will have something to do with my hose. Like how you were playing with it.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that!” She snagged a dish towel and tossed it at him.

  “Wait 'til I hand you my hose tomorrow morning.” He looked over his shoulder and winked.

  “A fireman who tells hose jokes about himself, how novel.”

  He laughed. “You don’t have to wash my truck. I was half kidding.”

  “Nope. A bet is a bet.” She breezed by him, patting his shoulder. She couldn’t help it. She gave it a little squeeze, then headed to the fridge in hopes to cool down her flushed cheeks.

  Oy.

  After putting all the dip in the fridge, she turned and gasped as she walked right into Rowen’s sold chest. “Shit, sorry.”

  He set something down on the counter. “No problem.” His hands gripped her arms, holding her steady as she lifted her gaze. “I should have warned you I was standing behind you.”

  His dark eyes drew her in and she found herself leaning toward him.

  She licked her lips, wishing she wasn’t so aware of the action, much less that when she took in a deep breath, her breasts brushed against him.

  “I find myself liking you,” he said softly. His husky voice laced with a tinge of vulnerability. “And not because your pretty, though you are, but because you’re nice to be around. Fun. Easy to talk to.”

  Her head spun as he spouted off all his reasons in rapid fire succession.

  “I sound like an idiot.” His hands rubbed up and down her arms like her favorite blanket wrapping her body. “I know you’ve been through some tough times and maybe you're not even interested, but I really want to kiss you right now.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him no, but nothing came out.

  She tried again.

  Nothing.

  Maybe the third time would be the charm.

  “Okay.” That was not the response that had formed in her brain.

  The corner of his mouth tipped upward as he lowered his lips to hers. Blinking her eyes closed, she tried to relax her body, which had to be stiffer than a piece of fiberglass.

  His hands slipped down her shoulder blades, to her lower back. His lips, barely touching hers, moved over them in a slow, controlled motion. His tongue darted across her lips, parting them in search of hers, and damn, hers responded.

  With an urgent hunger.

  Another response she didn’t expect.

  She placed her hands on his chest. His pecs jerked at her touch. She’d meant to push him away, but instead, she roamed his chest and shoulders, gently massaging his firm muscles.

  He increased the pressure, his tongue firmly entwined with hers, as his hands cupped her ass, splitting her mind between the passionate man who held her so tenderly, and the ex-husband who’d put bruises on her body.

  She stiffened as she pulled away, letting her hands fall to her side. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let you do that.”

  To his credit, he took two steps back, putting a fair distance between them. “Don’t be sorry. I understand.”

  “Do you?”

  “Maybe not all of it, though I understand betrayal, and it takes time to work through that, but trust me, there will come a time when you'll trust your instincts about people again.”

  Blood raced through her body. She wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe he was indeed one of the few good men left.

  He gripped the doorknob. “I had a really good time tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stepped through the door, then paused, looking over his shoulder. “Don’t forget to lock up. You’ve got my number if you need me.”

  And with that, Rowen disappeared into the night, taking her common sense with him.

  Chapter 5

  ROWEN TAPPED ON HEATHER’S front door, staring at his shiny, clean truck. He had no idea what time she’d gotten up, but by the time he’d rolled out of bed at ten that morning, his truck had already been washed and it appeared she’d even waxed the hood. He’d wanted to talk to her before now, but her SUV had been gone all morning.

  Now, two in the afternoon, it was time for the barbeque…

  And their date.

  His lips warmed as he remembered their earth-shattering kiss. At least for him it had been.

 
The front door squeaked opened. He’d have to get some WD-40 to fix that.

  “Hey,” she said.

  Her sweet smile sent his heart racing. He no longer cared that her hands were instruments of agonizing pain because the rest of her brought his body, mind, and soul to heights of pleasure he’d long forgotten about.

  “You’re right on time.”

  “I’m known for being punctual.”

  “Good trait to have.”

  The ease at which they fell into a light conversation, as if they were old friends, stunned him, considering sweat had formed on his palms.

  “You did a nice job on my truck, thanks. But I had wanted to watch you.” Geez, he sounded like a rude, horny little bastard.

  Thankfully, she let out a small laugh as she pushed open the door letting him in. Last night he’d only seen her kitchen, which the previous owners had partially redone. He glanced around the living room, enjoying her simple, yet elegant taste in décor. The hardwood floor shined as if it were new. Not a speck of dust to be found. A single painting of two chairs looking over a lake lined the wall behind the sofa. A few trinkets and pictures had been placed on a bookshelf.

  “Not sure the top of your truck is all that clean. I don’t have a ladder, but I did hose it down.”

  He bit his tongue, keeping himself from making a typical fireman and his hose joke. “I wouldn’t have held you to washing my truck. I’ve always been immune to onions. I have no idea why, but as a kid, onion chopping was always my job.” He followed her into the kitchen, running his palm over his mouth.

  “I’ve learned my lesson to never make a bet with you again.”

  He followed her through the house, trying hard not to ogle her ass as it swayed back and forth. “What time did you get up anyway? I was shocked to see a clean truck first thing.”

  “About eight. I had some things I had to get done in the office, so I figured it best to get my washing duties out of the way.”

  “Mrs. Baker goes for her walk every day at eight.” He cringed. Mrs. Baker was a sweet older lady, but she liked to gossip.

  And play matchmaker.

  “She made it to your house, stopped, and chatted with me until I was done.”

  “Oh, no. What did she say?” he asked, watching Heather duck into the fridge, eyeing her as she bent over. His fingers twitched, wanting to curl around her soft hips again.

  STOP!

  “What didn’t she say, would be easier to answer.” Heather handed him a couple containers of the Guacamole they’d made the night before, along with a bag to put them in. “If she were thirty or so years younger, she’d be trying to get you into bed.”

  He laughed. In her day, he bet Mrs. Baker had been a real looker. “Well, she’s trying to find someone else to get in my bed.”

  “She’s very protective of you.” Heather waved her arm in front of her.

  Rowen took the hint and headed toward the front door, and his rolling cooler filled with drinks. The barbeque generally lasted till ten in the evening, though families came and went, depending on their schedules.

  “She’s that way with everyone.” He held open the door for Heather, wishing his other hand wasn’t filled with food so he could offer it to her, feeling her soft skin against his. “But after my ex-wife cheated on me with someone in the neighborhood—”

  “Excuse me? With a neighbor?” Heather stopped at the bottom of the steps and stared at him with wide eyes.

  He’d never blurted out who Kim had been sleeping with to anyone. Sure, people in the neighborhood knew. His family knew.

  He suspected Kim had been cheating. He figured it had been with someone she worked with or some random stranger. He never imagined it would be with one of their closest friends. To have had dinner with a couple right after your wife had fucked the husband, that had been the hardest pill to swallow.

  He set the food in the cooler, closing the lid. The anger and betrayal he’d felt the day he found out had long dissipated into blips of sadness that he chose not to let linger in his mind and soul. He wanted to love again. He wanted a partner in life. Only, he hadn’t found anyone he felt he could trust, so he’d given up the hunt.

  “Not just a neighbor, but one of her closest friend’s husband, who used to be a friend of mine.”

  “What a bitch.” Heather scrunched her nose and pursed her lips as if she’d eaten a rancid pickle drizzled with turpentine.

  He laughed, but at her expression more than her words. “My language was a little more colorful than that, and unfortunately, Mrs. Baker heard every word as I tossed my ex-wife’s stuff onto the front lawn.” He glanced over his shoulder, remembering how Kim scrambled to collect her things, screaming back how she never really loved him anyway.

  “That had to have caused a ruckus with everyone on the street.”

  “Most excitement this neighborhood has seen in a long time.”

  “That had to have been hard on you, having the breakup of your marriage displayed like that for everyone to gossip about.”

  He sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The humiliation he felt had been the hardest. Not so much that his wife cheated, but that it had been going on for months and he'd had no idea. “Most everyone didn’t say much to me about it at first, but I hated those pathetic looks of pity.”

  “Those are the worst,” she said, shaking her head. He yanked at the cooler, making sure it was on his right side, and Heather on his left. He contemplated for ten steps on whether or not he should try to hold her hand. However, during his intense thinking on such an important concept as hand holding, she tripped on a crack in the sidewalk.

  “Whoa.” He reached out, grabbing her by the forearm and pulling her toward his chest. “You okay?”

  “I hate it when the ground jumps up out of nowhere.” She tucked some of her hair behind her ear, while he laced his fingers between hers, trying not to smile.

  He kept his chin held high and his gaze straight forward until she tugged at her hand.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He squeezed her hand, then released his grip, dropping his hand to his side. “People hold hands on dates.” He might have stopped looking, but no way could he resist the charms of the woman next door. “And giving our neighbors something to talk about.”

  “I don’t want the neighbors talking.” She lowered her head, raising her gaze in a look that would render a small child into submission. “And it’s not a date.”

  “If I kiss you goodnight again, then it’s a date.” He really needed to stop pushing her buttons. Thus far, she’d been playful enough, but if he was going to get her to agree to a real date, he needed to play his cards like the adult he was, and not willy-nilly like an impatient boy.

  She waggled her finger in front of him. “If I let you kiss me again, it’s a date, but don’t hold your breath,” she said with a smile.

  “So, there’s hope for a date after all.”

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  He opted to keep his mouth shut.

  A large, grassy field, freshly mowed, stretched out for what seemed to be the size of a football field. The neighborhood put together multiple events, from parents versus kids’ soccer games to movie nights. Today, the field was lined with chairs, blankets, and families enjoying a warm summer day.

  “Over there.” Rowen pointed to the Texas A&M blanket.

  “You’ve already set up?” She glanced at him, her right brow arched.

  “I was on the set-up crew and also had to help with where to put the pig roasts.”

  “Gross,” she muttered. “I like pork, but I don’t like seeing them roll over a fire with an apple in their mouth and their eyes glaring at me.”

  He let out a hardy laugh, enjoying her dry sense of humor.

  “Freaked Suzie out last year, and we were sure she’d never eat pork again, until she found out her favorite food, bacon, comes from pigs.”

  “I like Suzie even more now.”

 
He put his hand on the small of her back, guiding her across the lawn.

  “There you are!” Mrs. Baker yelled from her perch on one of the dozen picnic tables the association had purchased for the area. “I have a bone to pick with you, young man.”

  “I think I feel a lecture coming on,” he whispered in Heather’s ear.

  “Let me put this stuff on my blanket and I’ll be right over,” he said to Mrs. Baker.

  A couple of children wrangled kites in the gusts of warm wind, while others tossed a Frisbee. Screams, followed by loud squeals echoed in the air. Rowen smiled. This is what life was all about. He reached in the cooler and pulled out a long-neck, twisting the top off and handed it to Heather. After cracking open his own, he glanced at Mrs. Baker. She had that look of disappointment: her eyes narrowed a little, and her mouth drew in a straight line.

  He shuddered. His grandmother had the same look and it always made him want to hide under the bed. “Well, I must have done something to upset Mrs. Baker.”

  Heather laughed.

  He cocked his head, watching her luscious lips curl over the bottle. The liquid flowed from the neck of the bottle to her mouth.

  He swallowed when she did. “You know why she’s upset with me, don’t you?”

  Heather nodded.

  He growled, snagging her hand, but she pulled back.

  “You can face the music by yourself.”

  “Nope.” He took a step back and looped his arm around her waist. “Either come with me or I’ll plant a wet kiss on your lips and really give our neighbors something to talk about.”

  “Oh, fine.” She gave him a playful shove on the shoulder, before marching off in front of him, her shorts riding up close to the bottom of her butt cheeks.

  God, he was obsessed with the woman’s ass.

  “Bring the chips and dip,” she called.

  He groaned, taking a small sip of courage before snagging the food and following the sexiest woman he’d ever seen.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Baker.” He took the older woman’s hand and brought it to his lips. “You look lovely.”