Fire Born (Firehouse 343) (8 page)

His arm reached out, his subconscious yearning for the feel of her body next to his. Finding the other side of the bed cold, Chris started awake.

“Martie?” he called out.

He got no answer. She was gone.

Sitting up, he looked around and noted that the curtains were closed. Swinging his legs to his left, he dropped them over the side of the bed and leaned forward to grab the edge of one of the drapes to pull it aside. Based on the pink and purple hues in the sky, the sun was just coming up. Martie had arrived last night at about 6:30, the steaks ordered shortly thereafter. The food was brought up shortly after seven, and he had kissed her…

Chris didn’t know what time that was. He was too interested in tasting Martie to b
other looking at a clock. But
they’d probably only been eating for about twenty minutes, so the kissing had st
arted at around 7:30
, and that had led to their making
love
.

When had he fallen asleep?

To hazard a guess, somewhere between 8:30 and 9
:00
, which meant he’d been out cold fo
r the entire night
. God knew he’d needed the rest, but having chosen the fire service for his profession, he’d taught himself to be a light sleeper—he needed to be able to wake and get moving at a moment’s notice in his line of work, and it disturbed him that Martie had been able to get out of bed and leave without his hearing a sound.

Of course, Chris wasn’t entirely sure what bothered him more—that he hadn’t heard her leave, or the fact that she’d left.

Feeling annoyed—whether at Martie or himself he couldn’t say—
he stood
and headed into the bathroom. Flipping the light on, he saw that the
complimentary
washcloth was now laid over the edge of the sink, whereas last night when he’d been shown to his room it had been
folded on top of the towel
(
both were on back of the toilet tank
at the time)
. The towel itself was hanging on the towel bar on the wall opposite the sink and commode.

Martie had used them.

Feeling like a fool, he
reached for the towel and pulled it off the bar, holding it up to his nose and breathing in. The towel smelled faintly of soap and sex—and Martie. Her personal, unique smell was one he’d not soon forget.
With a sigh, he threw the towel back over the bar and turned the tap on in the tub, pulling the vinyl curtain so he could take a shower.

He was in and out in fifteen minutes, and feeling much better for having slept and cleaned up. Of course, there was a
dull ache in his chest when
he thought of Calvin. That would take more than a good night’s sleep and a shower to cure, if anything ever could. Using the light from the bathroom to guide his way, he headed toward the couch, where he knew his clothes would be. He was surprised to note that the unfinished food and the room service cart were gone, and that his clothes had been laid
in a neat, folded pile in the middle of the couch.
Chris smiled, feeling his earlier annoyance diminish to realize that Martie had thought to take care of things. It wasn’t until he drew closer that he noticed the note and the recorder sitting on top of his shirt.

Picking up the piece of hotel stationary, he smirked at the two words she had printed: “Play me.” Beside them was a little smiley face. With a shake of his head, he picked up the recorder, switching it on as he turned and sat down on the end of the couch.

“
Hi, Chris… I kind of hate leaving you like this, but I don’t think I shou
ld stay—even though I want to. J
u
s
t imagine what your lady friends would think if they were to see me coming out of your room in the morning. Wouldn’t that go over well?
”

She laughed a little,
then
continued. “
I don’t want you to think I regret what happened between us tonight, because I don’t.
It was wonderful. You made me feel like a woman for the first time in years, and I’m grateful for that. I’m also happy to have helped you begin to grieve for your friend. I don’t know if you’ll remember it, but you cried after we made love—don’t feel embarrassed about that, okay? You needed an outlet for your pain, and mine just happened to be the shoulder you leaned on. I’m glad that I could be there for you when you needed someone
.

“
I’d better go now
,” she went on with a sigh. “
I’m sitting here looking at you, sleeping naked over there on the bed all alone, and I want nothing more than to take my clothes off again and join you. You’re gorgeous, by the way, especially when you have absolutely nothing on. To be honest, I’m a little bit scared by
the fact that I was so attracted to you when
we
first
met
, and I’m a little scared of how much I like you already
.
I’m not really the type of girl who sleeps with a guy on the first date, s
o please do
n’t take this the wrong way when I say that
I want to get to know you better before I sleep with you again. I hope you understand. It’s just that, if we’re going to be friends—or maybe
something more—I want to do it
right
.”

There was a pause, and then, “
I really am going now, before I change my mind. I’ll be back at 8:30 to pick
up
you and
Karalyn
—I believe that’s her name
—
for the drive to Gracechurch. That is, unless you’d rather rent a car like you said you would and drive back yourself. I can just meet you at the fire station if that’s the case. Send me a text and let me know. You’ve got my number. Goodbye for now
.”

Chris rewound the recording and listened to it again. He was touched that she’d thought to leave it for him instead of a handwritten note—that she’d thought to leave a message at all when she could have just left without saying anything. It pleased him beyond measure that she didn’t regret being with him, that he had been the first man to make her feel like a woman in years
(
What the hell is wrong with the men in Billings?
he wondered
)
. He felt his face flush when she mentioned his crying
, but if he thought about it from an outsider
’s point of view, she was right:
he’d needed it.
He’d watched his crew
mates cry yesterday, had watched Tonja and
Karalyn
and Irene cry—had even witnessed Bob Dresden shedding
a few tears, which
he understood as
they were good friends
,
and
it was Bob’s wife Beth who had introduced Calvin to Irene nearly thirty years ago.

But he hadn’t cried himself. It simply wasn’t in his nature to show his emotions, a personality trait that was probably left over from his days as a juvenile delinquent.
He hadn
’t cried in front of his men,
hadn’t even when alone with Irene, Tonja, and
Karalyn
.

Yet with Martie, he had. With her he had finally let loose some of the pain he’d kept locked inside since hearing that Calvin was dead. He remembered, all right—he
remembered that after making love to her, he’d simply been too damn tired to keep it all inside anymore. He remembered that she had held him, whisp
ering sounds meant to sooth in
his ear.

When her message had ended a second time, Chris shut the recorder off and set it aside.
He needed to get dressed and
check in on Irene and Kara. Rising, he donned his clothes quickly, finally taking a moment to look at the clock next to the room’s flat
-
screen T.V.: It was just after seven.
He figured now was as good a time as any to rouse the women and get them moving, especially if they had any expectations of breakfast before leaving town.

Making a last check of the room to make sure he had all his
things, Chris shoved his wallet
into one pocket
, his cell into another,
and Martie’s
note and
voice recorder into a third
, briefly wondering as he left his room whether or not she’d let him keep it. He at least hoped he might get a copy of the message before she needed to delete it, as he knew without a doubt he would want to listen to it again and again, just to hear her voice.

He really loved the sound of her voice.

Down at Irene and Kara
’s room, he knocked firmly but not too loud, given the hour. Unsurprisingly, Irene opened it within a minute.

“Good morning, Chris,” she said tiredly as she stepped aside.

He noted that both beds ha
d been slept in, and that Kara
was nowhere in sight. It was then that he heard the shower running, telling him where she was.

“Morning, Irene. Did you and Kara sleep alright?” he asked as he moved to the couch and sat down.

She rubbed her neck as she sat in the adjacent chair. “Not much, I’m afraid. Kara woke up in the middle of the night begging her daddy to come back…”

A vise clamped around his heart and squeezed painfully as her breath hitched on those last words. He waited patiently as she paused to collect herself, wiping furiously at the tears that spilled over. “Oh God, Chris,”
she said. “Kara hasn’t had a nightmare since she was a little girl, and now she’s living one! I’m her mother, and I don’t know how to help her. How do
I help her get through this
?”

Chris reached over and took her hand in his. “You love her, Irene. No one can do that
better
than you
,
because
you a
re her mother.”

Irene thanked him with a weak smile and a squeeze of his hand. “If I may say so, you look a lot better than you did yesterday,” she observed.

He couldn’t help smiling as he recalled the reason. When he saw her lift her eyebrows at him, he cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. “I, uh…”

“None of my business how you cope, Christopher,” Irene said mildly.
“Just so long as you’re safe about it.”

He started to cough, feeling more embarrassed that Irene knew what he’d been up to last night than he had about literally crying on Martie’s shoulder.
Then her words hit him like a ton of bricks, causing him to sit straight up.

“
Just so long as you’re safe about it
.”
He and Martie hadn’t used any protection. He
knew he was clean and he
fel
t certain
that she’d never have had sex with him if she wasn’t as well. She didn’t seem the type to be deceptive in that way.
So while there was
no chance of his transmitting or receiving a venereal disease, there
was
a chance he’d given her something else.

“Oh Christ,” he bemoaned, bracing his elbows on his knees and dropping his head into his hands.

“Chris, do I need to make it my business?” his hostess asked quietly.
“I know I’m not your mother, that you and I aren’t close and that it really is none of my business…”

He laughed without humor. “Something about that just reminded me of Cal. He would’ve said, ‘
Ain’t
none of my business, kid, but…’
” He paused, drawing a breath and sighing heavily. “Used to irritate the fuck
outta
me sometimes when he’d say that—now I can’t believe how much I’m going to miss it.”

Sitting back again, Chris drew another breath and looked over at Irene. “I was…with someone last night. But we didn’t use protection. I’ll have to try and talk to her about it later.”

Irene absorbed his words and nodded slowly. “It’s probably best you do.
And I’m happy to hear you’ll be seeing this girl again
.”

“Actually, you’ll be meeting her in about an hour,” he said, causing Irene’s eyebrows to shoot up. Chris chuckled for a moment,
then
sobered. “Martie is the arson investigator from the Bureau of Fire Safety who’s been assigned to look into the
Breckon
Apartments fire.”

“Ah, yes. SOP
when a firefighter is injured or…or dies,” Irene said.

“She was at the hospital yesterday to speak to
me about what happened
,” Chris continued quietly. “She needs to talk to the other guys on
B-Shift
, and go over the scene itself. Martie said she would have gone to Gracechurch yesterday but she had a deposition in the afternoon. When I left you last night I couldn’t settle down and I… I called her to talk. She came to the hotel to have dinner with me and talk
—
”