Burn (L.A. Untamed #2) (13 page)

I hold up my hand. The firefighter in me has every hair standing on end. “Wait a minute . . . what do you mean
you set it on fire
?”

“That’s why they call it
Burning Man
, Trish,” Patrick explains.

I try to keep my voice modulated so I don’t start yelling. “You burn a man?”

When Skye shakes her head, I hear the tinkle of her earrings. “No, of course not. It’s a huge figure of a man. It’s symbolic.”

“Why do you burn it down? What about the safety of the other structures around it?” I’m getting really irritated, and I’m ready to call the department and make a report.

“There are no other structures around it, we’re in the middle of the dessert. And the next night we burn the memorial temple down.”

Are these people insane?
“A second night of burning? Are there firefighters present when this happens?” I ask, making notes in my mind.

“Not that I could see,” replies Patrick.

“What if a windstorm picks up and there’s a sudden shift and participants get caught in a firestorm?” I point out.

Skye nibbles on a carrot shred she’s picked out of her salad. “You know Trisha, I think you probably wouldn’t enjoy Burning Man.”

I laugh just a little maniacally. Skye has a gift for observing the obvious. “And while we’re at it, can I ask why you have dirt in your hair?”

Patrick reaches over and starts picking it out of her hairline near her temple.

“We had a celebration in a mud pit after the sweat lodge. I thought I washed it all out.”

Mud pit . . . what the hell? I roll my eyes at that one. And was she high when she showered? How could she miss all that dirt?

“Oh, I’ve read about those sweat lodges,” Elle says excitedly. “It’s that American Indian tradition where you build a dome-shaped structure and sit inside in the dark, around a pit of hot stones, right?”

Smiling, Skye nods. “Yes! The heat makes you sweat profusely. It’s a physical and spiritual cleansing.”

“But how did you tolerate the heat if you were already in the hot desert?” Elle asks. She seems so calm—my family never seems to faze her. That Elle is really something. Paul is lucky he found her.

Patrick shakes his head. “She almost passed out when she came out.”

“So you didn’t do it?” Paul asks.

“No way, I’m claustrophobic,” he answers.

Dad gestures to Ma. “Pass the potatoes, Millie.”

Ma nods, lifts the heavy bowl and passes it to Paddie who passes it on. The table falls silent. ‘
Pass the potatoes’
is my dad’s way of saying
enough
. I take a sip of my wine and dig in.

After dinner Skye tries to show my mom some reflexology for her sciatica. Meanwhile, Paul and Paddie load the dishwasher, so I drag Elle to the backyard under the premise of some girl time. Judging from her wide-eyed stare I guess I dragged her outside a little too forcefully.

After we stop in front of the garden she rubs her shoulder. “You may have pulled my arm out of the socket, Trish. What’s up?”

“He kissed me,” I whisper.

Her eyes grow bigger. “The firefighter guy?”

I nod.

“A casual kiss?”

“Oh no, this was a very serious, toe-curling kiss . . .”

She grins. “That good, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” I hum.

“Excellent!”

“But we were at the firehouse and then he got called for a run.”

“Bummer. But wait a minute, you were kissing in the firehouse? Aren’t there rules about that?”

“Yes. It’s against department policy.”

“Damn! But wait . . . if you had a hiding place, how would they even know?”

“Maybe the goo-goo eyes I’d be giving him at the station. I’m having a hard enough time just acting normal around him as it is.”

She bites her lip. “You really like this guy.”

“Yes,” I say breathlessly.

“Awesome!” she exclaims, and claps her hands together with glee. She’s as happy for me as I imagine she’d be for herself. It’s no wonder I love her like a sister.

“This is exactly what I told Paul! I knew he was the one.”

I purse my lips together. “Don’t go overboard. We’ve only kissed.”

She waves her hand at me. “Oh, I know that! What I meant is I think he’s going to be the one to finally fuck you properly. It’s a game changer, Trish. You’ll see.”

I bite my thumbnail. “Well first we need to get to second base.”

She nods. “Let me know if you need a plan. I’m good at strategizing.”

I fist bump her. “You’re the best.”

The next day continues to be Joe-less and I’m frustrated. I’ll never get to second base with him at this point. Is he mad at me, or something? Because now I’m getting pissed at him. I mean, what the hell?

I channel my anger and do weeding in the garden and chores around the house. I’m climbing the walls by sundown so I go for a long run and come home to a hot shower. I’ve just pulled on my clean sweats and a T-shirt warm from the dryer when my doorbell rings.

His hands are jammed down in his pockets. “Didn’t you hear me knocking?”

I shake my head.

He looks pissed all right. Well that makes two of us.

“What were you doing?” he asks.

“Taking a shower. What? Did you think I was avoiding you?”

He shrugs and averts his eyes.

“Well I could say the same about you. Where’ve you been?”

“Around.”

I nod and look down.
Could this be more awkward?

He rubs his hands over his face and then reaches his hand out toward me. “I came over to say something.”

This doesn’t sound good.

I open the door wider and gesture toward the living room. “Okay. Come on in.”

He nods, and walks over to the couch and sits down.

“Want anything to drink? Water? Bourbon? Gatorade?” I ask.

His eyes widen. “No thanks.”

I settle down on the opposite end of the couch from him. “So what’s up?”

“Why didn’t you talk to me—warn me, before that interrogation with Chief the other day?”

“Interrogation? Really?”

“Yes, that was shitty. And why didn’t you respond to my texts on the way back from our call? I needed to see you, or at least talk to you.”

“I was asleep.”

“How about when you woke up?”

I shrug. I can feel his irritation.

“I see. So this is how it is? Can I ask you one thing?”

I shrug again. “Sure, what?”

“Why the hell did you let me kiss you that night?”

I purse my lips. “I don’t know.”

“You. Don’t. Know.” He says it again without the dramatic pauses, “You don’t know.”

“Nope.”
Why the hell am I lying? What the hell is wrong with me?

He turns to me with an infuriated expression and dark, angry eyes. I know it’s messed up but I think he looks hot. I didn’t realize how much I’d miss him and now that he’s sitting in front of me every one of my nerve endings are on fire. He just looks so damn good.

What the hell is happening to me? I just took a shower, dried off, and now I’m wet between my legs. I want to climb his tree, butter his biscuit, and ride him like a stallion . . . all at the same time.
Good Lord.

Leaning forward, he rests his elbows on his sexy knees. A second later he rips off his leather jacket, and as he pulls it off his sleeve pushes up and I see the edge of a tat. My nipples get hard. I swear they do.

“Okay, McNeill. Here’s the thing. Have you read the Station Book of Rules and Regulations? There’s a rule about fraternization on page twenty-eight.”

“I know,” I say with a sigh. “I reread it this morning.”

He purses his lips and nods. “Okay. Then you know that as long as you stay at the station we can’t fraternize. Are you staying?

“Yes, I am,” I reply.

He’s staring straight ahead, but he shakes his head and slaps his knees. “Okay then, so whatever happened between us the night before last, let’s just pretend that it never happened okay?”

“Sure,” I say.

“You stay away from me, and I’ll stay away from you.”

“Right,” I agree while pressing my thighs together and wondering if I have a pair of clean panties. I hope so because the ones I’m wearing are getting wetter and will definitely need to be changed.

“So you’re fine staying away from me?” he asks, his voice a little choked.

“Yeah. I guess so,” I reply in a low voice as I rest my hand on his thigh.
Damn
his thigh is hard as a rock. I’m surprised but pleased that he doesn’t push my hand away.

His gaze drops down to where my hand is placed and he lets out a long breath. “And I’m not going to kiss you, even though I knew you really liked it when I did, but I’m sorry . . . no can do.” He shakes his head vehemently.

I want to laugh at that one, and how insincere he sounds, but I can’t because I’m too busy trying to keep my panties from combusting. I’m pretty sure they’re my only clean pair.

“You know, I’m pretty sure you liked it too.” As I spread and tighten my fingers over his leg, I swear the heat rising up from him is burning my hand.

His jaw tightens and he rolls his shoulders forward.

My thighs are actually quivering. I look down to observe the phenomenon. I’m pretty sure they’ve never done that before. So to test them I rise up, swing my leg over and shift until I’m straddling Lieutenant Joe Murphy. When I fully sink down onto his lap I receive the information that maybe he likes me being there.

“Oh God,” he moans with a dizzy look like he’s going to pass out. “What are you doing?”

Leaning in, I whisper in his ear. “Sitting on you. I like how this feels.” I wiggle and sink farther into his lap. He gets the idea.

He nods, closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, I swear I see fire.

“What do you want?” he asks, his hands resting on my hips.

“How about just a kiss? Kind of to test things out again,” I whisper as I place a hand on either side of his face and pull him toward me.

He’s not resisting but he’s not exactly helping get the party started either. I forge ahead because I’ve been holding in all these big infatuated feels and I need to let them out before they just burst out of me and scare him.

When our lips meet this time I’m the one kissing him and I kiss him like I mean business. I put my heart and soul into this kiss, my lips consuming his breath, his heartbeat, his heat. I feel his grip on me tighten as he presses his fingers into my flesh. I moan long and deep when he pulls me down over where he’s hard for me. Damn, like everything about him, he’s big. So big.

I kiss him again and again as I press against him. I’m stunned. Fooling around has never been even close to this desperate and hot, and even better . . . we’re just getting started.

“Wait a minute,” he says with a gasp as he pulls away from me.

“What?” I ask, feeling perplexed.

“You’re so damn confusing. What’s going on here?”

“I just really wanted to kiss you. You aren’t enjoying this?”

“You need to ask me that? I thought it was pretty self-evident.” His head falls back and he takes a deep breath.

“Why don’t I keep going then? We can get each other so worked up that it won’t matter if we’re confused.”

“Good God,” he groans, rubbing his face. “You’re wearing me out, Trish.”

I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mean the good kind of wearing someone out.

“Sorry about that,” I murmur, although I’m not exactly sure what I’m apologizing for. I slide off his lap so that I’m sitting next to him on the couch.

He nods, his expression suddenly looking very far away.

“So where were you today?” I ask.

“With Nicole.”

My porcupine spines prickle and stand up.

“And what were you and Nicole the muffin maker doing?”

“Talking about you.”

“Really. What did she think?”

“Well at first she was surprised about us.”

“Us?” I ask. I bite back a smile. I like the sound of that.

“She thought you’re gay, but I assured her otherwise.”

I scoff. It’s not the first time nor is it the last I’ll be called that. Any woman who is perceived as outwardly strong, and not overtly feminine is in question. It’s bullshit but I refuse to be stereotyped. “Well she was wrong.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty clear on that.”

“Why did you talk to her about me?”

“I wanted to get a woman’s perspective.”

I suspect her perspective wasn’t going to be helpful. “So what did she say?”

“That I shouldn’t be with you—that there’s too many reasons why I shouldn’t.”

“I not surprised at all. She doesn’t want to share.”

He huffs. “I told you I haven’t been with her in a long time.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want you to be. So what do you want to do?”

He rubs his hands roughly over his face. “Maybe we need to slow down.”

I pull back. “Yeah. It wasn’t smart, us kissing like that.”

“No, it shouldn’t have happened. I promise you that I’ll control myself next time.”

“Good. You do that,” I say even though I know I’m the one who provoked him, not the other way around.

“But hey, you were the one who climbed onto my lap, straddled me, and wiggled all over me.”

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have done that either.”