Blaze (The Firefighters of Darling Bay Book 1) (8 page)

Grace had punched her sister in the shoulder. “I’m not putting out.” 

“Who says that anymore? Putting out. Maybe you should stay inside with your knitting and your herbal tea.” 

Stung, Grace said, “I like knitting. And more tea is always good.” 

Samantha had just laughed and shoved two condoms into Grace’s purse. Grace hadn’t asked her why she had them. She didn’t want to know. 

The front doorbell rang. 

Grace took a deep breath and tried very hard not to wobble on her way through the office and into the hallway. 

Tox stood on the porch, bigger and brawnier than she’d remembered. He could probably lift a car if he had to, and someone in his profession might have to on occasion. 

He’d been looking over his shoulder, but turned as the door opened. 

“Oh, crap.” Tox’s face fell. “What are you wearing?”

A surge of heat flooded her face and Grace wanted to hide behind the door until he left, which he’d hopefully do quickly. Embarrassment, waves of it, rolled over her. 

She’d thought she was the worst at dating. 

But this guy was worse.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

As first date opening lines went, it was right up there with “What was your name again?” and “We’re going Dutch, right?” 

Tox’s mouth seemed full of concrete. He had to find something better to say, fast—before her feelings got hurt. Well, it was probably too late for that. 

Grace looked confused and then chagrined. She tugged at the neckline of her shirt as if she wanted to cover up the skin of her chest and neck. He hadn’t meant
that
. She looked amazing. The outfit did all sorts of things for her deliciously hot body, and dang, did he like looking at her. 

But he’d for sure have to change the date plan, and he didn’t have a backup one…

“My sister’s clothes.” Grace stepped forward onto the porch, closing the door firmly behind her. “I told her it was a bad idea.” 

“Are you kidding?” Tox almost stuttered, tripping over the words. “No! I don’t want you to think—well, of course you’d think…”

“That you think I look terrible?” She put her shoulders back, and her next words were strong. “Well, I think I look nice.” She blinked hard, as if she were working on believing it herself. 

Tox stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders. “You look incredible.” 

“I…what? You just said…” 

“You look hotter than the devil’s kitchen. I can’t believe how good you look.” Didn’t she
know
that? 

“Oh.” She bit her bottom lip. Chewed on it, really. Then she blushed. Yeah, Tox liked it when she did that. In fact, he wanted her to do that all the time. Everywhere. He wondered what she looked like she was naked and blushing. How far did that red spread? 

“But could you change anyway?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“We’re doing something that will require the use of sneakers. And old clothes.” 

An expression of relief crossed her face. “Oh, thank goodness.” 

“You don’t mind?” 

“Hang on, I’ll be right back.” 

Tox waited on the porch. Grace had a knack for decorating, he noticed. Not like the designers on HGTV that Coin watched at the station, not all fancy, but both her practice in the old Victorian and this little house had the same feeling, as if they had grown up around her naturally. There had to be fifty potted plants, flowers blooming and draping, all colors. Comfortable old wooden furniture—a swing and three chairs—invited him to sit. He imagined her entertaining out here, seated with her bare feet pulled up underneath her, hair loose, pouring glasses of iced tea for friends. 

For a brief second, he wondered if he could ever be someone who sat out here with her. He imagined her bare feet resting in his lap. 

Grace came outside, dressed in a blue zippered sweatshirt, jeans, and blue canvas shoes. Her hair, so carefully styled before, was pulled back into a ponytail. She’d rubbed off the dark lipstick, but she still wore the prettily smudged eye makeup. She looked ready to paint a house or play paintball. How was it possible that she looked even hotter now, dressed like this?

“What are we doing?” Her face was open. Happy. Expectant. 

Tox didn’t want to let her down. “I’m not sure if you have an online profile, but I think it’s required by law that if you do, you have to say you like long walks on the beach. So I thought we’d do that.” He’d meant it as funny and tongue-in-cheek. Now that he’d said it out loud, it just kind of sounded stupid. So he added the clincher. “With my new dog.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

He’d kept the dog! 

Grace couldn’t help squeaking when Tox led her to the dog crate leashed into the back of a black truck. “Oh, my god! Where’s your motorcycle?” 

“Turns out she doesn’t like riding as much I thought she would. That was one exciting ride home yesterday, I’ll tell you that much.” 

Grace grinned and climbed up on the back tire so she could reach through the crate’s bars to give the wee pup a scratch. “So you own all the big boy toys? The motorcycle, the big truck. Do you have the boat, too?” 

“Does a jetski count?” 

Raising one eyebrow at him, Grace decided to let him off the hook for the water sports safety lecture. Besides, the dog was taking all her attention. “Can she ride in the cab with us?” 

“Whatever you want, darlin’.” Tox’s unexpected drawl made Grace’s knees get warm. 

The puppy sat on Grace’s lap during the short ride to Fenton’s Cove. When Tox took the corner at First the dog almost spilled off, but then she scrambled back, seemingly desperate not to lose contact. 

Tox parked in the lot and they walked past the Golden Spike. The jukebox inside the bar was blasting a classic Darling Songbirds song, “Take it Slow On the Curves.” Tox waved inside at Nate, the bartender. They crossed the street and walked past Crab’s Claw restaurant toward the sand.
Have you ever eaten there?
That would be too pushy, as if she wanted him to take her someplace fancy.
It’s windy out
. Too obvious.
God, you’re hot.
Too crazy. She sealed her lips. 

Down near the water, though, the salt wind whipping her ponytail, the small dog stretching her leash to its limit, Grace felt the tightness in her jaw start to relax. “She’s adorable.” 

“I know.” 

“That fur, though.” 

“She has a grooming appointment tomorrow.” 

Grace nodded. “She’s too skinny.” 

“Agreed,” he said amiably. “We’ll fix that right up.” 

“How?” 

“Steak. Lots of steak.” 

Surprised, Grace said, “I can’t imagine that would be the best diet for a puppy.” 

“I was teasing,” he said. “Mostly. But ice cream isn’t out of the question.” 

“Really?’ 

“Man, you’re easy to tease.”

“Gah. I’ve always been gullible.” She bent over and undid the laces of her shoes. “Once a guy convinced me he was the first test-tube baby in the world.” 

“Why would he say that?” 

“I don’t know.” Grace had never thought to wonder why he’d done that. “I have no idea.” 

“Men will say anything to get laid,” he said. 

The sand was cool and damp between her toes. “Is that true, do you think?” 

Tox’s eyebrows raised as he took off his own shoes. They left them in a companionable pile at the edge of the iceplant, safely out of the waves’ way. “
Oh
, yeah.” 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to admit that on a date,” said Grace. 

He looked rueful. “Probably not.” 

Something that resembled daring filled Grace’s spine. “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever said? To get laid?” 

“Oh, man. I really don’t think I should go there.” 

Her heart beat rapidly. “I’ll tell you the worst thing I ever said.” Grace could only think of something she’d heard her sister say at a bar. 

Tox laughed. “Girls do it, too?” 

Samantha’s bar line tripped off her tongue. “I told a guy that I could tie a knot in a cherry stem with my tongue.” 

“I’m intrigued. You can?” 

“Sure. Who can’t?” Grace had never even tried. The lie burned a path into her stomach. 

Tox tugged on the leash. The puppy ran toward a seagull, pretending she wasn’t on leash, her short legs scrabbling at the wet sand. “Wow. But if it was the truth, then I don’t think that counts as a bad thing. It’s only morally reprehensible if you’re making it up, just to get some action.” 

“A man with a conscience.” Grace tried to will her blush to stop. “That’s admirable.” 

“Don’t say that yet. I once told a girl I’d run a baker’s dozen marathons.” 

“And you hadn’t?” 

“I don’t run unless it’s from a bear.” 

A wave darted at them, and they dodged it. A young woman wearing headphones race-walked past them, arms pumping. Grace said, “What kind of exercise do you do then?” 

Tox looked at her with a leer. 

She blushed harder. “Never mind, don’t answer that. Just get some exercise sometime, would you? It’s good for you.”

“And you’re all about the healthy stuff, right?” 

“Right.” 

He gave a nod and whistled to the dog who gave no sign of hearing him. “Green shakes and oatmeal?” 

“The best.” 

“Hmmm.” 

There was a pause. Grace considered filling it, but she was thrown. Everything about this man threw her. His casual good looks, his confidence, his jokes. The way she wanted desperately to brush against him. Casually. Or more. 

Then Tox said, “Which is what makes you so interesting to me. That I’m so attracted to you.” 

Dang, he just put it out there, didn’t he? Grace felt a warmth flood her. “Oh.” 

“You seem normal. Healthy. I’m looking for your crazy.” 

She laughed, turning her face to the last of the sunlight. It would drop behind the rapidly advancing fog bank soon, and the air would cool rapidly. Three different couples wandered the same way they did, dodging into and away from the waves. “It’s there.” The dog ran up and planted a wet paw on her jeans. 

Tox looked over his shoulder. “This far enough? Ready to head back to the pier?” 

Grace nodded.
Her crazy.
Her crazy might be the fact that this red-hot firefighter seemed to be
interested
in her and she had no idea what to do next with that fact. But she had to say something. “You’ve seen me in two different crisis modes, so you’re closer than most to knowing what my crazy is like.” 

“And in both cases, you were trying to take care of someone else and not yourself.” 

“What? No, I wasn’t. Not the second time. I was just trying to breathe.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “You were taking care of your sister, doing everything you could do make her think you were okay. Then you were helping me, getting the guys out to me with the baby. That’s not crazy. That’s crazy-responsible.” 

So sexy. Gah. “Hey,” said Grace, remembering. “Why did that firefighter call you the Angel of Death? Doesn’t seem like that’s a very firefighter-like thing to say.” 

Tox’s green eyes went darker, the color of the water at the edge of the foam. “Just a nickname.” 

“Like Tox?”

“Worse. Some people…It just seems like bad stuff happens around me, that’s all. If a call’s going to go south, I’m usually either there or on my way to it.” 

“Huh. But you’re a helper. You help. That’s your job.” 

“Same as you. That’s what we do, right?” 

“Well.” She shrugged. “It’s just easier to take care of people that not to.” 

“I think that’s your crazy.” 

“Taking care of people?” She pointed at the dog, still straining on her leash. “Number one, pot, meet kettle. And number two, that’s not such a bad problem to have.” She had to change the subject. This was too much, too intimate. It was embarrassing. “What are you going to name her?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

“What’s in the running?” 

He shortened the leash as an errant wave threatened to drench the puppy. “I like Loki.” 

“No!” 

“Why not?” 

“She’s a girl! And Loki was the god of destruction. It’s like naming your kid Damien. You get what you deserve.” 

“Okay. Then Appaloosa.” 

“That’s the opposite of Loki, I guess, but that’s so long. And wouldn’t you shorten it to Loose? Then she’d be guaranteed to be pregnant before she even graduates her first training class.” 

“Methyl.” 

“Excuse me?”

He slowed his pace, and then stopped, slapping his thigh. The dog came running. Heck, Grace wanted to, too. “It’s a hazmat thing.” 

“It’s short for some chemical?” 

“Kind of. It’s slang for Methyl-ethyl bad stuff. Only…we don’t normally say the word stuff.” 

“Ah.” 

“You know the rule of thumb for methyl-ethyl bad stuff?” 

Grace shook her head. His voice was teasing again, and she liked the way it sounded. Rough and happy. 

He held up a fist, his thumb up, holding his arm out straight toward the horizon. “Imagine there’s an explosion out there, way out at sea.” 

She squinted. “Okay.” 

“You want to stay far enough away from the methyl-ethyl bad stuff that when you hold up your hand like this, your thumb covers it up.” He looked at her, and then, to her surprise, he put his arm around her waist and drew her against his chest. “It’s pretty technical.” 

“I can tell,” she laughed, breathless. “You must have gone to school a long time for that.” 

“I put in at
least
six hours of training. Can I kiss you now?” 

“Again?” she teased, her heart racing. “Didn’t you do that once already?” 

He smiled. “And it’s all I’ve been able to think about doing ever since.”

She reached up on tiptoe to kiss him. 

Grace thought it would be a light kiss, like the moment. A sweet kiss. On the beach, in the sunset, in a handsome firefighter’s arms, what could be nicer? 

But the kiss wasn’t nice. Or, at least, it wasn’t for long. His mouth, soft at first, soon blazed against hers. His heat stunned her, lighting every cell in her body on fire. His tongue was firm, direct, sure. He tasted like mint and something darker. His hands held her close, tightly, so that she could feel his arousal. He said her name against her kiss, so that the wind tore it away.