Burn (L.A. Untamed #2) (18 page)

“I don’t want to go with you on your date, Trisha.”

“Ha!” I laugh right as Jeanine pulls up in her Jaguar. “You thought I was going on a date?”

“Well, look at you.”

Descending the stairs, I grab his shirtsleeve and pull. “Come-on, I want you to meet my bestie, Jeanine.”

A look of relief settles over his features. “Jeanine? You wore a dress for your bestie?”

“Yeah. So?”

“You haven’t worn a dress for me.”

“You haven’t taken me out on a date.”

“Well, maybe we need to rectify that,” he says.

I grin. “Well she
makes
me wear a dress, but I’ll gladly wear one for you if it means that much to you.”

He leans closer. “I’d like that. You look good.”

“Good?”

“Really good.” His gaze trails across me with a slow simmer. “Gorgeous,” he whispers.

I blink several times and press my thighs together. This man can look at me sideways and get me worked up. For a brief moment I wonder how pissed off Jeanine would be if I canceled. I can just imagine Joe’s long fingers unzipping my dress slowly before pushing the fabric away from my shoulders so my dress falls to the floor.
Hot damn.

Just then Jeanine blasts the horn of her car as she rolls down the passenger window. “Trisha, get your ass in the car!”

I look over at Joe and wink. “She’s a charmer.”

“I can see that.”

I drag him toward her car. “You’ve got to meet her. She’s so fierce; she makes me look like a wimp.”

She narrows her eyes at Joe as he approaches. “Is this the man you were telling me about, Trisha?”

I nod. “Yes, this is Joe. Joe, meet my best friend Jeanine.”

Joe approaches the car and reaches in through the window to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you, Jeanine.”

She gives him a knowing smile. “Likewise.”

Joe opens the passenger door and holds his arm out to guide me inside.

I slide in and pull down my seatbelt.

“Have a great time, ladies, and keep the men away from her, Jeanine. And by the way, thanks for getting Trisha in a dress.”

“She’s hot, right?” Jeanine says with a grin.

“Yes, she is. I’m looking forward to her dressing up like this for me. You promised, right, Trisha?”

I feel my cheeks color. “Yes.”

“Excellent,” Jeanine says. “And sometime soon let’s all get together.”

“Sounds good,” Joe replies as he closes my door and steps back. He waves as Jeanine pulls away from the curb.

When she stops at the light at Laurel Canyon she turns toward me. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?” I ask, as I raise my hands in surrender. There’s no point taking on Jeanine because she’ll always win.

“That’s the tiny house guy?”

“Yup.”

“Holy hell! He. Is. A. Man. A big, healthy, real man, with a visible dose of testosterone, accented by looks and manners. Do you understand what a rare breed he is in this god-forsaken city? He’s like an endangered animal and he must be treated like the treasure he is.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. Jeanine has never been this impressed with
anyone
. “You
are
treating him right, aren’t you?”

My eyebrows knit together. “Can you explain how that works?”

She sighs with exasperation. “You’re treating him right . . . keeping him happy.”

“What about me? Shouldn’t you be focused on making sure he’s treating me right, and making me happy?”

“Well, judging from the way you were looking at him and the way he doted on you, it seemed obvious.”

I smile widely and she glances over at me.

“It’s a jungle out there in L.A., the dating pool is overrun with savages, and Joe could be your king. Treat him like one and I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”

I roll my eyes. “My king? So much for the advancement of women as equal partners.”

“Just giving you a reality check, woman. The rest is up to you.”

Leaning back into her Jaguar’s lush leather upholstery, I gaze out the window with a smile on my face despite her crazy ramblings. Jeanine enthusiastically approves of Joe.
Hot damn.

According to her I’ve got myself a king, and it makes me wonder while in the fantasyland of happy-ever-afters, if I could be his badass queen.

Joe is waiting for me when I get home later that night. I know because he’s left a scrawled note taped to my front door.

Get you and that sexy dress you’re wearing over to my place. I’ll be on the roof waiting. I’ve got a bottle of wine and all the stars lit up just for you.

With my heart pounding, I unlock my front door and kick off my heels. One shoe lands on the coffee table and the other on the couch as I rush to the bedroom for my Keds and a sweater.

Less than a minute later I’m scaling the ladder along the side of Betty. I pause when I’m near the top. I’m excited—I’ve never wanted to see him more.

“Hey,” I say as I finally step up onto the roof.

I know it’s night, but his dark eyes are bright as his shimmering gaze moves from my face, slowly down my body. The corners of his mouth turn up when he sees the Keds. “Where are your heels?”

“I changed shoes since they aren’t exactly ladder crawling friendly. Why?”

“I want the heels.”

“Well, too bad. At least I kept the dress on.”

“Hmmm,” he says as he surveys me. “You have to know . . . you make me crazy, woman.”

My breath hitches. “I do?”

“Hell yes. I’ve been up here imagining taking this dress off of you.” His fingers tug on the bottom of the dress’ hem.

“Are you going to take it off me up here?” I ask as I bite my lip.

“Perhaps.”

He’s such a tease.

I sink down into my lawn chair and watch him pour me a glass of wine. It’s a warm night and moonless, the inky black sky dusted with stars. He hands me my plastic cup and I take a long sip.

“So did Jeanine keep the men away from you like I asked her to?”

“Well, Malcolm the waiter was a little overly attentive, but other than that, yes, we were in the clear.”

“Good,” he says quietly as he takes a drink of his wine.

I sit with my head tipped back to watch the sky. I love the quiet beauty of a night sky—some may find the darkness foreboding, but I find it hopeful. Sometimes your heart can feel things more clearly in the dark, when not muddled by the light.

“Can I confess something?” I ask after finishing off my cup of cabernet. My dress has inched up high on my thighs and his gaze continues to linger there.

He nods, his expression suddenly wary like he’s gearing up for another one of my frank revelations. “Sure. What?”

“I’ve never felt like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’d do anything to please you.”

“Really?”

I notice his hands tighten over the armrests on his lawn chair.

“Yes, really. I’m starting to worry that I’m obsessed with you. Jeanine was impressed with you and warned me that I should do whatever I can to make you happy. And what’s weird is that despite my self-protective nature, I want to do that for you.”

“Trisha,” he whispers.

I hold out my hand. “Let me finish. The thing is I have all these feelings for you and they’re big and complicated. Remember a few weeks ago, when we went out on the child drowning call? After we arrived, I was side-by-side with you trying to save that little girl. I remember my overwhelming fear that we were too late, and our sheer determination to save her. I looked over as you did the compressions and I thought if this little girl has any chance at life, it’s because of Joe.”

He shakes his head but remains silent because he seems to sense that I’m not done.

I clear my throat. “And a moment later it hit me, that if I have any chance of finding love again, it’s with Joe.”

“Stop,” he whispers.

I shake my head. “I know. You don’t want me to fall in love with you. But sorry, it’s already happened. And I know It’s crazy and fast and illogical, and my divorce hasn’t even started to hit its stride. But I can’t help it. I love you. I do. I think about you every messed-up minute we’re apart. I think of the way you held my hand under the table at my parents, I fantasize only of you naked across my bed, and I panic thinking of you riding a rig to the fire that could be the one to take you from me. It kills me . . . the idea of losing you. My head is spinning from all my feelings for you so you don’t have to say a thing, just know that it’s all very real.”

He appears positively stunned, his eyes wide and fingers pressed against his thighs.

I look him straight in the eyes. “I’m a woman in love with you, and you need to know that I’m one hundred percent honest, real and honorable, and most of all . . . despite my longing, I’m willing to wait as long as it takes, for you to love me back.”

He shakes his head, his eyes pressed shut. “You don’t have to wait, Trisha.”

“Really?” I ask, trying not to sound hopeful.

“I’m in love with you too.”

My heart swells. “You aren’t just saying that to be nice?”

He reaches out his hand and when I take it he pulls me over onto his lap and wraps his arms around me. “Believe me, I’m not that nice. If I were I’d say I didn’t love you so you’d move on and find someone better. But the truth is that I’ve wanted you far longer than you could imagine.”

I nuzzle my cheek against his warm neck. “Really?”

“I’ll tell you the story one day, but not now.”

I’m tempted to pressure him to confess, but everything feels so perfect in this moment that I don’t want to mess things up. “I do want to correct you on one thing, Mr. Murphy . . . there’s no one better, not for me anyway.”

“I bet it’s just that you like a man in a uniform,” he teases.

I elbow him. “So you must really think I’m deep. Although you do look panty melting hot in your dress uniform.”

“Panty melting?” he asks with a grimace. “So I’ve melted your panties?”

I grin. “Countless pairs.”

He rests his hand on my knee and then slowly glides his fingers up my thigh until they trace the edge of the silky pair currently in question. He clears his throat. “Apparently I’ve lost my touch. Your panties are intact.”

“How about we go to my place and investigate this further?” I ask.

“You know that will involve me removing your dress very slowly, right?”

I bite back my smile. “Oh, if you must.”

He eases me off of his lap and then stands up to join me. I gesture toward the sky. “Thank you for making the stars shine for us.”

He rests his fingers under my chin and gently tilts my face up so that I’m facing him. “My pleasure. I love you, Trisha. I’d give you the sun and the moon too if I could.”

Chapter 15:
Our Own Hero

You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

I’m in the ladies bathroom with Elle at El Coyote in West Hollywood waiting while she touches up her lipstick. “So what’s happening with the divorce? I bet you’re anxious to get it moving along now that you and Joe have gotten so close.”

“I am,” I agree. “But William, the lawyer I’m working with from Jeanine’s firm said he spoke with Mike’s lawyer and Mike has stopped responding to our attempts to move things along. It’s not that we’re fighting over money or stuff even, he’s just avoiding everything.”

“That’s probably not that unusual. I mean it hasn’t been that long, and didn’t you say he dropped by your place with flowers wanting to work things out?”

“He did. It pissed me off. I wasn’t very pleasant about it, but I can’t help it. I’m still angry.”

“I understand. I would be too.”

“He even got his mother to call me and guilt me out by saying how depressed he’s been. I mean what does she expect me to say to that?”

“So what are you going to do to get things back on track with the divorce?”

“I may just have to show up at his shop and bully him. It’s not like I was the one who cheated on him. He screwed up. He needs to let it go.”

She nods, and I throw away my wadded up paper towel to join Elle out the door and return to our table. We pass arches filled with exotic fake flowers, crafty oil paintings of Spanish dancers, and lanterns lit with stained glass panels casting prisms of color . . . a paradise of Mexican kitsch. I love this place.

We slide back into the booth where our men are debating the upcoming USC, UCLA game. It makes me smile to see how easily Joe and Paul get along. These last few weeks have been so damn good, and I’m glad to be able to share this man with my family and have them enjoy his company.

Paul’s expression is playful as he lifts his margarita to his lips. “So is it true the guys at the station call Trish T. Rex?”

Joe glances over at me with a look of concern. I shrug to let him know it’s okay to talk about.

“Yeah, most of the guys think she’s pretty fierce. But she’s a better firefighter than the whole lot of them combined.”

I lean over and give him a WTF look.

“It’s true, Trisha,” he insists.

I roll my eyes. “Just a little exaggeration, guys. Besides the new guy, Charlie, who transferred from West L.A. seems really sharp.”