Pin-Up Fireman

CHAPTER THREE

Feet pounded past the opened kitchen windows while Boyd and Quinn were rinsing dishes and loading dishwashers. Boyd’s neck snapped a fast second glance, and he nearly got whiplash. He kept holding a plate under the water spray as he leaned toward the screen to watch Graci-Ella—her come-to-Jesus legs in navy shorts, full breasts in an apricot tank top and a long ponytail that swished back and forth with each stride. His heart pounded with every pace she made.

Quinn jerked the plate from Boyd’s hand. “Man, I don’t know who’s breathing faster right now. Her running or you watching.”

“Bite me.” Boyd leaned farther toward the window so he could keep his eyes on her after she passed by with Einstein. Quinn shifted behind him and shouldered Boyd’s ass until his knees were on the counter. “What the fuckin’ hell, Quinn?” A giggling shove and Boyd’s knees slipped into the double sink—one side full of hot soapy water soaking lasagna pans and the other with the faucet running cold water.

Quinn, the bastard, was laughing and grabbing for the sprayer.

“Oh no! Oh, hell no!” Boyd struggled for the sprayer, too, in an effort to avoid the shower he was about to get. In the scuffle, he slipped forward and banged his chin on the window sill, which gave Quinn enough time to gain control of the sprayer and douse him good with cold water.

Boyd elbowed his co-worker, who lost his balance, slipped on the wet floor and ripped the sprayer’s hose from the faucet assembly. Water flew. Guys came running to see what all the commotion was about. Boyd didn’t doubt for a minute he made a fine sight with his ass in the air and his knees in the sink. He pushed off the window sill and flipped backwards, his sneakers skidding in two different directions until his back hit the floor.

Quinn, bless his demented ass, laughed so loud it evidently drew the captain out of his office.

“What in the God damn hell is going on? Someone turn off the water and fix the hose. One of you little boys better mop up the floor.” Captain Steele was known for having spic and span station and that included the kitchen.

Quinn was known for his big mouth. “Hell, captain, I was only helping Tiny watch the photographer run by the building with Einstein.”

Feet stampeded to the windows on the other side of the building. Whistles and crude remarks exploded from the gang at the other windows. Damn the rest of the guys for watching her run. They had no right to drool over her.

Boyd was so pissed, he spun to head for the mop and bucket, shooting Quinn a glare as he stormed to where the cleaning supplies were stored. Never one to back down, Quinn grabbed Boyd’s bicep and leaned in. “If you want her, you better make it known.”

“Oh, like you did with Cassie? You damn near drove her away. Besides, I’ve got that custody hearing…”

Quinn’s voice softened. “Don’t pound the hell out of me for this, but I think you’ve got a worthless lawyer. He’s got you scared to do anything but work and take care of Matt. What do you do the weekends the kid’s with his mother? Do you party, date, bay at the moon? No.”

“I get together with you guys when you have picnics or basketball games.”

“You need to live, brother. An occasional date would not make you a bad parent. The hell with what that lawyer told you. Cassie’s afraid you’ve turned off your sex drive. She wants to line you up with some of her friends. You know how she gets once she snags onto an idea.”

Boyd, who was still dealing with half a woody, chuffed a laugh. “Tell her my sex drive is working fine. I’m just keeping it in neutral until after the hearing.” He shook his index finger at Quinn. “Tell that sweet wife of yours I would not appreciate her matchmaking help.” He made a snap decision to get out of his wet clothes and headed for the sleeping quarters to change before he mopped the kitchen floor.

He’d just swabbed the area in front of the sink when the horny herd charged toward the open back door where Graci-Ella was evidently passing. He spun to snatch another look at her after she rounded the building, but thought better of it. Surely she deserved more than to be ogled like some sex object.

When he stepped outside to empty his bucket, Einstein barked a greeting as he cleared the end of the fire station. Boyd stepped inside to grab a bowl to fill with water for the dog and snatched a bottle of water out of the refrigerator for Graci-Ella. He carried both outside for the runners. He set Einstein’s bowl on the grass next to the sidewalk. Both the dog and the beauty stopped running.

“Oh, a life-saver.” Graci-Ella accepted the bottle and unscrewed the top. “Thanks for being so considerate.” She gulped a few swigs, watching Einstein put his muzzle into the bowl, take several laps and then lick Boyd’s calf in gratitude. The corners of her mouth quirked. “Just don’t expect me to do that.”

“What? Lick my calf?” Hell, his voice cracked like an adolescent. He had to get a grip where she was concerned.

She nodded, guzzling more water.

His cock nodded, too. Thank God he’d changed into a pair of baggy cargo shorts. His instant erection wasn’t so obvious, but since he couldn’t stop thinking of her tongue on any part of his body, the damn thing lengthened and thickened some more. He stooped and petted Einstein in an effort to hide it until his mind got off her tongue. Of course, the damn dog licked Boyd’s crotch, then lifted his hind leg and licked his doggie privates.

“Do you have some free time to talk to me? We could sit on the bench in front of the palms and those pretty orchids.” She motioned with her bottle to the bench she meant.

“Sure. Let me go in and grab a soda. Do you want one or maybe some more water?”

She flashed him a heart-melting smile. “No, I’m great. I need to get Einstein back to his owners and then I’ll be over.”

Boyd was sipping his Coke when Graci-Ella carried a canvas bag over to the bench. “How long have Wolf and Becca been married? They seem so much in love.”

“A shade over three years. He bought a townhouse next to hers and couldn’t keep his eyes off her as she took her daily jog with the dog. He put out a lot of effort to get her to date him and, thank goodness for the guys at the station, she finally gave in. There’s nothing worse than a man who has his heart set on a woman and can’t make any progress with her.”

Her blue eyes fixated on his. “Women are no different when they want to know a man better. In fact, sometimes we can be kinda sneaky about getting his attention.” She shoulder bumped his and he choked on his Coke, rasping to breathe.

She straddled his lap and leaned over to pound his back. He got an up close and personal glimpse down her tank top. Now he knew where she stored a pencil, a thin pencil because there was very little room between her firm breasts. Struggling with the urge to cross the line and touch them with his fingers or tongue or face, he squeezed the bottle of Coke in a fit of stress. Soda shot upwards. Graci-Ella laughed as she wiped it off her face and he soon found himself joining in. Hell, it was either laugh or slither away in humiliation.

A narrow finger ran over his chin. “You’ve got a scrape here. Want me to kiss it and make it better?”

His mouth had gone dry, too dry to talk; so he just nodded. Her lips gently covered where he’d bumped his chin on the windowsill. His hands covered her back and he inhaled whatever get-your-sex-here perfume she wore.

She moved off his lap to sit on the bench again, and his heart began beating once more. “I think I sat on your spilled soda. My ass is wet.”

God help me. I can’t think of her ass—dry or wet.

“What did you want to talk about, Graci-Ella?” He bent and set his crunched can on the ground.

“I’d like for you to be honest about why you won’t even consider posing for the calendar I’m doing. You’re the best looking guy on the squad. You should be plastered across the front of the cover.”

Years had gone by since he’d been complimented with such enthusiasm. He wasn’t so sure he believed her or felt comfortable with her praise. “My reasons are legal and pertain to the person I love most in this world—my son.”

“How so?” Graci-Ella took off her sneakers and slid her naked soles back and forth in the grass. “These were not the best sneakers to run in.”

“Says the woman who wears stilettoes to work.” He patted his thighs. “Put your feet up here and I’ll rub them while we talk.” She pulled her canvas bag onto the bench and lay her head on it as she stretched out on the seat of the bench. He tried not to focus on her hot pink toenail polish as he explained his legal circumstances as well as Matt’s health.

Every so often, she’d ask a question or moan if his thumbs rotated over a tender spot. “Yes, but since you’ll be wearing jeans, no one—not even a judge—would label it as obscene. Especially for something to help the local foodbank.”

“I can’t take that chance, Graci-Ella. Matt depends on me to keep him safe. Everyone wants to give me legal advice today. First the captain, then Quinn and now you. My lawyer told me to lead an exemplary life, and I’ve tried my damndest.”

“Is your divorce final?”

“Yes. Thank God. She’s someone else’s problem now. She lives with a guy who gives off bad vibes. I think he may be dealing. I don’t want Matt around that danger.”

“Then you’re free to date.” She shifted the bag she rested her head on. “I wouldn’t suggest having a parade of different women in and out of your house, but a date now and then does not make you less of a parent. Not in the eyes of the law.”

“Oh yeah? How would you know?”

“Because I’m a lawyer.”

His hands stilled. I will be damned. “Would you mind repeating that?”

She straightened and slipped her feet off his thighs. “I said I’m a lawyer. Don’t you narrow your eyes at me like that. I wouldn’t be crazy about dating a man who works a dangerous profession, but I’d alter my way of thinking to date you.” A blush slapped both her cheeks, and she glanced away, exhaling through pursed lips. “Wow, that was bold. I shouldn’t have said that. I apologize.”

He wrapped her ponytail around his wrist, brought her face to his and locked his eyes on hers. “Are you being honest here? I’ll be damned if I’ll be played again.”

“I’d enjoy getting to know you better. There are some things I like about you, especially your dedication to your son.”

“I’d enjoy spending more time with you, too, and I never expected to say that again.” He lowered his face to hers and inhaled her intoxicating essence, becoming dizzy with each breath.

The fire alarm went off and the dispatcher’s voice traveled over the outside speakers giving the location and type of fire.

Boyd rubbed his cheek against Graci-Ella’s. “Duty calls. Gotta run, dammit.” His lips barely dragged across hers before he took off on a run, cursing whoever or whatever started that blaze.

CHAPTER FOUR

Saturday, after a breakfast meeting with a client, Graci-Ella hurried into the big-chain hardware store, a list of items the building manager had recommended for her little office redecoration jotted on a sticky note.

In fact, she nearly danced through the large chain hardware store as she picked out a rug for under her client chairs, a lamp for her desk and paint. She chose a cheery shade of yellow for the wall with the window and a paler tint of yellow for the other three walls. Jo-Jo said he’d do the painting if she bought the paint, and also install a ceiling fan if she purchased a new one.

And, of course, the palm leaf shaped fan she fell in love with was stacked on the top shelf of boxed fans. She tried reaching. Tried jumping to slide a corner out far enough she could grab it on her next jump, but that didn’t work either. The darn box was just too heavy, even though the fan was small.

“Need some help?” A pair of hands encircled her waist and she spun—in shock and ready to knee some guy in the balls—only to glare into Boyd’s grey eyes. “Need me to lift you a few inches?” Wrinkles creased the corners of his eyes as a slow, sexy grin spread. My God, what a smile could do to his severe expression.

He had one of those faces of angles and planes that made a man look hard-edged, especially with that perpetual whiskered scruff he had going on. Her fingers itched to sift through his wavy, dark hair that barely rubbed the neckline of his t-shirt. And he smelled of woodsy soap.

Beat, heart, beat!

“I’m betting you could reach it for me.” Shut up, are you stupid? her hormones hissed. Let him keep his hands on you and lift you. Don’t you want to feel his strength? Good Lord, her female bits hadn’t been this bossy in ages.

“True.” His thumbs rubbed slow circles at her waist, sending “come to me” signals to her hormones in Morse code. “But I think Confucius said, ‘a job worth doing is worth doing in twos.’”

She laughed. “He did not. You just made that up.”

“Turn around and I’ll lift you. Think you can handle the weight of the box once you get it in your hands?”

“Oh, I can handle the weight. I could even handle you, once I got you in my hands.” That’s telling him, her female bits squealed. Look at his shocked expression.

He leaned and pressed his lips to her ear and repeated his command in a sensual whisper. “Think you can handle the weight once you get it in your hands?”

Oh, sweet climax. It was a good thing he was there to lift her because her legs had just turned to mush. Plus, she was going to have to go through check-out wearing wet panties. Better to go through the self-serve aisle—and damn quickly. She needed her vibrator.

By the time her feet hit the floor again, her back had rubbed against every delectable hard inch of his pecs and abs and, if she wasn’t mistaken, one rock-solid erection. Maybe she needed two or three fans for her office.

He took the box from her arms and set it in her cart. “Gee, you’re getting a lot of stuff here. Doing some redecorating at home?”

“No. In my tiny office at the law firm where I work.”

A groan tumbled from his throat. “Please I’m trying to forget you’re a lawyer. I’m pretending you’re one sexy photographer and nothing more.”

“But I am an attorney.” She planted a fist on her hip and hiked her chin at his scowl. “It’s an honorable profession.” Why did she feel the need to defend herself? “We’re not all bad. Just at certain times.” Now why the hell did I say that?

“Yes, I suppose there are some good lawyers. I know there are a few who smell like sin.” He leaned in and inhaled her fragrance and she trembled in response. The corners of his lips twitched and one of his dark eyebrows rose. “What do you need next?”

“Wh…what?” The man had just boosted her as if she weighed no more than a basketball and then slid her over his erection—one that resembled a fire hose full to bursting…set her hormones in a line dance to do the bump and grind to, “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love Baby.”

He backed her against the shelves, his fingertips lightly skimming the skin of her arms. “What else do you need, Ms. Good and Bad Attorney? Can I help you with it?”

For the life of her, she couldn’t recall why she’d come in this hardware store. A new pair of high heels? Shampoo? Ice Cream? Her mind was all befuddled. All she could see were intense steel-gray eyes, darkened and hooded with desire. His head tilted as if he were studying her. Her mental focus floated away on an internal heated breeze.

I need to date more.

Those man-hungry hormones of hers were pushing her closer to him and making her lips pucker in the most embarrassing way. Could anything be more humiliating? Like he would ever kiss her. And could she survive if he did? For this guy oozed an excess of testosterone. She cleared her throat. “Plant hooks for those aluminum strips that hold up ceiling tiles.”

He placed one hand on the small of her back and pushed her cart with his other. “Hey, that’s what I’m here for. We can find them together. Suddenly, the captain’s on a plant kick, so he sent me for hooks and some hanging plants. He’ll need to keep Emily away from them though. The woman has a black thumb.”

“You seem in a happier mood today.”

“Talking to you yesterday helped. Plus, I called my lawyer this morning and pressed him for some answers. Old Henry wasn’t too pleased. He prefers safety, but I got him to admit I could date—occasionally.”

“Henry? Not George Henry, mister conservative from the fifties.” Geesh, no wonder he had Boyd afraid to lead a normal life.

Boyd chuckled. “Yeah, he is in a bit of a time warp. He’s good, though, right?”

“Yes. Very thorough.” They turned into another aisle, his hand still on the small of her back.

“You know, I recognized your high heel clattering and knew you were in the store somewhere. You have a distinctive walk, as if you’re almost running. Few women can manage that in heels as high as you wear.”

“You must have good ears.” Being near him had her in a happy Zen place.

He laughed. “I’m a dad. I can hear a six-year old doing something he shouldn’t be doing at twenty paces. I call it daddy hearing. Gotta admit, I dig your blue toenail polish to match your dark blue stilettoes.”

“Most men don’t notice things like that.”

“I’m a fireman. I’m taught to be super observant.”

They talked while they shopped and picked out plants. She was surprised to learn he was a gentle giant. Quick to help her choose things. He also seemed to be leaning close to her neck as if he were smelling her perfume. Normally, she’d confront a guy about invading her personal space, but he invaded in such a sweet way.

“I need to pick up a case of chrome cleaner for the station. If you’ll walk along with me, I can help you load the fan and paint and stuff into your car, after we check out. Besides, my male plants are hanging from your cart watching your female plants.”

She rested her hands on her hips. “Oh? And how do you know yours are males?”

He slapped his chest with his palm and feigned astonishment. “Do you think a macho man like me would…” he leaned in to whisper in her ear, “choose feminine plants?”

The way he’d uttered the word plants as if it were something utterly obscene made her laugh out loud. “Okay, I’ll walk along with you. Only because I think you need a keeper.” Well, there was also the thought of his leaning into the back of her RAV-4, loading her things.

Normally, she wasn’t one to play the weak woman role, but he wore worn jeans that hugged every curve and showcased every bunch and stretch of his thigh muscles as he moved. Was she a perverted woman for wanting to see him bend over in those jeans? It was a simple question and, frankly, Charlotte, she didn’t give a damn.

She walked him to her car and unlocked the hatch. He grabbed two cans of paint and bent over to place them inside.

Mental fist pump. Score!

Next, he grabbed the boxed fan and bent over to put it in.

Sweet Lawd, I’m going to hyperventilate in a second. What an ass he’s got!

He picked up a brass pot and a bag of soil she was going to use to repot a palm for one corner of her office.

Would he notice if I bit his ass? Just once?

With gentle movements, he set her plants inside.

God, if my panties get any wetter, I’ll have to swim to my door. Just look at how his jeans fit. Like lover’s hands.

Boyd turned to her. “Are you feeling okay? You’re flushed and breathing rapid.” He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “Are you a diabetic? Do you need to eat?”

Now, there was a loaded question if ever she’d heard one.