Flame (Firefighters of Montana Book 5) (10 page)

Then Dex let go of her, stepped back, tucked one hand deep in a pocket. Cady pulled her knees together, rearranged her shirt. Their eyes met and held for a long moment. They’d taken a step forward, but neither of them knew exactly where it would lead. If anywhere.

Dex did that thing with his hair, ruffling it quickly with the palm of his hand. “Thanks for dinner.”

If Cady thought it had been awkward before with Dex, now it was times ten. “It was nothing.” She checked her watch, glad of an excuse to notice the time. “I’d better go. I’ve got to work in the morning.”

“You need your sleep.”

Cady hopped off the table and went to the sofa where she’d dropped her purse. Dex walked behind her as she crossed the room to his front door. She turned. His eyes were on hers.

“Well, I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you,” Dex replied.

And Cady drove home with a throbbing between her thighs that lasted hours.

*

“How can he
not like cakes?” The next morning, Cady slipped a red velvet cupcake into a paper bag and pushed it across the counter.

“He really said that?” Laurel lifted the bag and took a sneaky peek inside. She sighed dramatically.

“Uh huh. ‘I don’t do cakes.’ Those were his exact words.”

Laurel smiled wickedly. “Just because he doesn’t do your cakes, doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to do you.”

Cady knew he did. The kiss yesterday? It was about three seconds away from fucking on his kitchen table. Four years of nothing and then, wham-bam-almost-thank-you-ma’am.

Cady changed the subject. She didn’t want to be talking about her sex life in her shop within earshot of her customers. “It’s just that I’m not used to people who don’t like cakes. When customers come in here, I offer them a little slice of heaven. Delectable tastes. The scent of cinnamon and chocolate and vanilla and banana. That melt-in-your-mouth feeling that only the best buttery shortbread can give you. The—”

“Stop!” Laurel held up a hand and squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s hard enough maintaining some self-control with this in my hand. If you keep going, I’m going to scarf this cupcake right now. Don’t say chocolate again, I’m warning you.”

Cady knew all about self-control. Or, embarrassingly, in her case, her lack of it. She was disciplined in every other part of her life. She’d worked and saved for years to go to the culinary institute. She was up at the crack of dawn six mornings a week to bake. She resisted eating her product if her jeans started to feel a little snug at the hips, and resumed eating them with gusto when they’d become loose again. Discipline. Focus, Determination. All of those attributes seemed to fly out the window when it came to Dex.

“Now what are you going to do about Dex?”

“I thought we were talking about cakes?”

“You were. I wasn’t. Why don’t you just sidle up to him at The Drop Zone and buy him a drink? He may not eat cupcakes—what kind of insanity is that—but I know he likes a drink every now and then.”

Cady thought about Lauren’s suggestion. Was it really so crazy? She’d kissed Dex and this time she remembered every move, every caress, every moan, and every breath of the way he’d kissed her back. She’d barely slept after she’d got home from Dex’s last night. The taste of his lips had lingered; the strength of his arms around her had imprinted on her like a tattoo. She didn’t think she could wait for him to make the next move or she might spontaneously combust. Yeah. Buy him a drink at The Drop Zone. She could do that. This Saturday night. Yes. That was a plan. And then maybe, for Pete’s sake, they might have sex.

Laurel was staring at her friend, looking as if she was waiting for an answer to a question Cady hadn’t heard.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” Laurel smirked.

*

There was a
good crowd at The Drop Zone the next Saturday night when she arrived, after a quiet shift at the station. Cady had spent the entire week thinking over her approach. What to wear. What to say. Her opening lines.

“How about that big game, huh?” Except she didn’t follow the NFL or the NBA and wouldn’t have been able to follow that up with anything sensible. And the weather, while always a reliable topic in their part of Montana, sounded way too much like the conversation a retired couple might have while pouring out a bowl of bran flakes in the kitchenette of their RV.

When she saw Dex across the bar, looking way too good in a battered, brown leather jacket and his comfortable old jeans, he was talking to some of his fellow smokejumpers. The funniest thing was, as she made her way down the bar, he turned to look over his shoulder. To her delight, his face transformed into a smile when he saw her. More like a damn sexy grin if she was honest with herself. And that look right there, those sparkling eyes and that hot mouth, tasted better than anything she could ever whip up at Cady’s Cakes.

Dex turned his body towards her, leaned his elbows back on the bar, and looked her up and down. She’d chosen a Saturday night at The Drop Zone in Kalispell kind of outfit—boots, black jeans, a red shirt, and a denim jacket. He lingered on her red boots for half a second.

“Hey, Cady.”

“Dex.” The other guys from the station seemed to disappear and suddenly there was only the two of them at their end of the long wooden bar.

“Having a night out?” he asked.

“Yeah. Saturday night’s my only night to cut loose.”

Dex cleared his throat. “Is that right?”

Cady took a step closer. She nudged his boot with her own. “So, can I buy you a drink?”

“Nope.” He shook his head and dipped his gaze.

“Oh. Right.”

Then he laughed, deep and throaty, and she felt it deep inside. Like in her ovaries deep inside. For Pete’s sake.

“And the reason, Cady’s Cakes, is that I owe you one. For dinner the other night.”

“You don’t need to, but I’d love one.”

Dex motioned to Hugh who walked down the bar towards them.

“Hey, young fella,” Hugh said with a hearty bellow. “And good evening, Miss Cady.” He winked at Cady and turned his attention to Dex as he put two tumblers on the bar and poured their shots. “Have I ever told you how glad we all are that you came home to open your shop? That red velvet cupcake you do is… well, the doc says I’m not allowed to have too many but when I do? Boy, oh boy.” Hugh smacked his lips. “Don’t you agree, Dex?”

“Uh. Sure.” He smirked at Cady.

Hugh was being so obvious she wanted to shrink into a ball of tumbleweed and get blown down the main street like in an old movie.

“The man who snaps up young Cady here will be the luckiest man in Montana.”

“Only if he appreciates cakes and pastries, Hugh,” Cady added. “Some men don’t have a sweet tooth, apparently.”

“Stop talking crazy.” Hugh laughed.

“It’s a thing. Some men don’t do cakes or muffins of cookies or pastries or even donuts.” She glanced playfully at Dex as she reached for her whiskey.

He didn’t say a word—just watched her intently—as she upended the glass and swallowed the liquid down in one gulp. It burned sweetly as it went down.

Dex straightened. “Some men have particular tastes.”

“Let me know if you need another.” Hugh moved down the bar to serve another customer.

Cady gripped her empty glass, glad of it in her hand to keep her fingers busy. “And what tastes are they? Let’s see. You’ve ruled out sweet. What about salty?”

Dex shrugged. “Beer nuts and chips.”

“Sour?”

“Lemon.”

“What about bitter?”

He thought for a moment. “A woman I dated in Oregon.”

“You were in Oregon?”

“I managed a big cattle ranch a few years back. She was the rancher’s middle daughter.”

Cady didn’t want to hear any more about the rancher’s middle daughter. “Umami?”

Dex looked confused. “What the hell’s that?”

“Umami. It’s the most newly defined taste. It’s inspired by Japanese cuisine, and basically means deliciousness. It’s kind of a meaty or savory flavor.”

“You mean like a steak?”

“No, more like parmesan cheese. And I mean the real stuff, not the stuff you sprinkle out of a cardboard tube.”

“Mmm. New tastes can be good, but sometimes it’s the ones you’ve known for a while that turn out to be the best.”

Cady got the distinct feeling he wasn’t talking about food any longer. But instead of leaning in to continue the thread of the conversation and the promise it held, Dex shifted suddenly and pulled his phone from his jeans pocket.

He pressed the screen, held it to his ear. “Hey, sweetie.” It was noisy in the bar, it was Saturday night after all, and Dex covered his phone with his hand. “I’ve got to take this,” he said, suddenly different, the flirtatious tone gone and a serious shadow on his face.

Cady watched him walk away, out the front door of The Drop Zone, and into the night.

Well. That was it. She fought the urge to call Hugh over and ask him to pour her another whiskey. One was enough. She was going home.

“H
ow are you
doin, Miss Lila?” Dex would never, ever regret taking a call from Lila whenever she called. But tonight? Her timing was…

“Uncle Dex. Will you come over and watch
Frozen
with me? Daddy made popcorn and everything.”

There was such excitement and happiness in her voice he couldn’t help but smile. “Popcorn, huh? That’s an offer way too good to refuse.”

“Mommy won’t let me put butter on, like going to the movies, but it’s still crunchy and good.”

“I agree with your mom on this one. She is very smart.”

“So, can you come? Daddy made a fire and everything.”

Dex was putty when it came to his niece. No argument. Every time.

Behind him, the door to The Drop Zone swung open and a wave of noise and laughter and clinking glasses came at him. He moved out of the way so whoever it was could pass on the narrow steps. When he realised it was Cady, he reached out a hand to grab her. He couldn’t let her go without talking to her. She held the strap of her purse determinedly over her shoulder, and she was standing tall, trying to be tough.

“Wait,” he said softly.

She paused. Thank God. He had another chance.

“We
are
waiting,” Lila’s voice trilled down the phone. Then he heard, “Mommy, mommy. He’s coming!”

He let go of Cady’s arm, reluctantly, slowly. He’d been hoping the night might have ended a little differently with Cady. A whole lot differently. That kiss had ignited something in him for her that no fire retardant could put out. The only thing to douse the flames would be sex.

“I’ll see you round, Dex.” There was an edge to her voice, as if she was holding something in, as if she’d wrapped a protective wall around her.

“See you, Cady.” And he watched her cross the parking lot, her red boots kicking up dust in her wake.

Another voice down the line. “You talking to Cady?” It was his sister-in-law.

“Hey, Sarah. Yep, I was.”

“You got a date? Mitch! Dex has a date.”

“Not possible. I have a hot date with Lila tonight, remember? A movie and popcorn date. Listen, Sarah, hasn’t she worn out that damn movie yet? We must have watched it, what, twenty-five times by now? I can almost sing that song in my sleep.”

“I can tell her that something came up, if you like. Really, Dex, you don’t have to come. You should have a life, too, you know. Go have a drink with Cady.”

That would be impossible. For tonight anyway. Cady had driven off in a cloud of dust.

“No, no, it’s all good. Tell Lila I’m on my way.”

*