Caught in the Flames (4 page)

As we step closer I’m thankful for the shades as they hide my eyes and allow me to assess the man candy. And boy, how tasty they look. Though, as we conform to the line of people waiting on breakfast, my eyes land back on Chase. He’s dreamy and has an air of confidence and leadership. It’s attractive. He’s attractive. He’s talking to me. Oh, God, I was ogling. I don’t even know what he said. He tilts his head and a smirk pulls those plump lips. Lips that would be talented at kissing. I’d bet, if that was something I could put money on.

“You okay, Callie?”

I shake my head and then switch directions to nod. “Fine! Totally great. Super. Fab.”
Fab?
I blow out an exhale.

He chuckles. “You look nice. Pancakes?”

“Thanks. Yes. Please.” He piles them on my plate. One. Two. Three.

“That’s good!” I laugh and pull my plate away. “Gotta save room for meat.”

He grins. “You like meat, Callie?”
Oh, God!
Now I have an entirely different vision of sausage running through my mind. I glance down at his crotch and he laughs, a loud, booming rumble that draws attention from everyone near. My cheeks heat. I’m sure they’re as pink as if I’d spent an afternoon at the beach. His knowing grin tells me that was his intent. Well, two can play at this.

“I love meat,” I purr. His eyes widen and his laughter dies. I lean forward over the grill, careful to not get too close and burn my arm, but far enough that he has a clear view down my blouse. “I especially love sausage. The juicy taste when my lips lock around it.” I close my eyes and moan once. I open my lids to find him licking his lips. His Adam’s apple bobs at his throat.

“But I’m a little disappointed because those you have today sure are tiny.” With that I smile wide and let the laughter fall from my lips. I glance down at the grill. “You’re burning your cakes, boss.” I turn on my heel and strut to the table where Jill and Alicia await with eager smiles. I can faintly hear Chase’s curses follow in my wake.

“Gurl . . . What did you do to that poor boy?” Jill laughs.

“Just gave him a little of his own medicine.” I wink.

“That’s our girl,” Alicia proclaims and licks bacon grease from her fingertips.

I nod and shovel an overflowing forkful of pancakes into my mouth. “So good!” I say between bites. My stomach sighs in thanks.

“Don’t look, but whatever you said has lover boy on his way now.”

“Wha—?” I try to chew and swallow as fast as I can, but I have too much food in my mouth and when Chase pulls out the open chair to my right and twists so we’re eye to eye my molars continue to chomp at an alarming rate.

“Whoa.” His eyes widen. “Slow down there, chipmunk.”
Awesomesauce.

I throw back my orange juice like it’s a shot of Patron and wash the food from my mouth. “Hey, Chase. What’s up?” I try for casual but my voice goes a pitch too high and the food I tried to swallow catches in my throat. I break into a horrible coughing fit. He pats my back until I catch my breath. Tears leak from my eyes.

“Are you okay?” he says. My coughs are replaced with giggles, more from the ridiculousness of it all, and I wipe the moisture from my cheeks.

“Fine. Wrong pipe. I guess I have to practice swallowing.”
Facepalm.
Why does everything I say to this man come out in sexual innuendo?
Because you’d love to do naughty things with him.
My skin heats and prickles.
Yeah, yeah I would
. I meet his eyes and they crinkle at the corners. So glad he finds this amusing.

“Callie, would you like to go out some time?”

“I’d love to,” I manage.

“Great.” His smile steals my breath. “How about tonight?”

Tonight! That hardly gives me time to freak out, obsess, worry, wax, pluck, shave—not that I’m easy and will sleep with him on the first date, but one can never be too prepared. And he’s a first responder. He’s always prepared. How would it look if I show up to a date unprepared—

“Tonight’s perfect.” The breathy words leave my lips. He stands from the chair and walks backwards.

“I better get back to work.” He glances over his shoulder. “Pick you up at eight, Callie.” He turns and jogs back to his spot at the grill.

“Damn, girl!” Alicia reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Nice work!”

“Uh—” Jill purses her lips and licks them. “Not to be a downer and don’t look, but two tables over, there’s a woman shooting daggers at our Callie.”

“What!” Alicia looks around anyway.

“Alicia!” I hiss, bringing her attention back to our table. “Don’t make a scene. She’s probably just jealous.”

“Yeah, she probably is, but if anyone tries to mess with you, I’ve got your back.” She goes back to nibbling her food. My nerves have stolen my appetite and I push my plate back.

“Yeah. I’m sure that’s it,” Jill says. But it’s the way she says it that plants a little seed of curiosity. I reach for my cup and suck down the rest.

“I’m gonna get a refill.” I stride over to the drink station and leave Jill and Alicia to debate who’s sexier, a lumberjack or a mechanic. Two giant orange sports coolers, the kind I remember from high school track practice, hold the beverage options. I pick the one with water and fill my cup. Before I walk to my girls I turn and scan the faces at neighboring tables while I sip from my cup.

Harsh green eyes narrow, brows knit, and it’s easy to spot who Jill was speaking about. The woman is older than I am, maybe mid-thirties, and she’s noticeably glaring my way. If Jill hadn’t warned me I’d be looking over my shoulder trying to spot who she’s attempting to poison with her retinas. She’s pretty, her dirty blonde hair hangs in long soft curls and her makeup is impeccable.

Angry Beauty stands, grabs a cup off her table and marches my way.
Oh, shit
. She approaches like a predator, intent and ready to attack. Her sundress swishes with each step of her toned and tan body. I straighten my spine and push my shoulders back to prepare—for what I don’t know—and will myself not to fidget.

She walks straight at me. I think she’s about to run into me. Crap. Can she knock me over? She wouldn’t. I don’t think. Two steps closer and she veers to the left. Oh, thank God. I’m a lover not a fighter.

Uff!
Did she just—?

“Excuse me,” she sneers after checking me with her shoulder. “You better watch where you’re going. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” With that she drops her cup in a nearby trash can and struts toward the cars parked at the street.

What the fuck was that?
I stumble back to the table.

Alicia and Jill hunch forward over the table. “Callie, what did she say to you?” Alicia hisses.

“You saw that, right? I didn’t imagine it?”

“She totally Ovechkin’ed you!” Jill whisper shouts. Alicia and I frown.

“Whata?” I ask.

“Hockey.” Jill’s mouth opens wide and she waves her hands. “She totally shoved you. Never mind.”

“What am I supposed to do? I think she threatened me, too!”

“Maybe Chase has a psycho stalker. You better be careful. Keep an eye out,” Jill adds, glancing around.

“You guys don’t think . . . Do you think maybe that’s like his ex or something?” That would explain it. And if things ended badly? She was really pretty, but maybe a little old. Well, not old-old, but much older than me. Crap. Maybe he’s really old. We didn’t exchange much information.

“You need to ask him about her. Find out what you’re dealing with here,” Alicia says matter-of-factly. I nod my agreement.

“Yes. This will be good, right? I need to find out more about him. And a first date’s the perfect opportunity to do that.”

“Exactly.” Alicia nods with a confident smile. Jill still looks wary.

Perfect
.

I hate first dates.

There’s too much pressure. Look beautiful. Be charming, funny, and desirable. Hide the nerves, awkwardness, and past baggage. I wish I could redefine the first date. Accomplish all its goals in one simple conversation. “Hey, you look nice and attractive, if you feel the same about me let’s share food and deep meaningful conversation, and later we can snuggle. After we fuck each other silly.” Yeah, if only it could be that simple.

The doorbell rings and I give myself a once over in my full length closet mirror. Hair: curls tame and sexy—check. Makeup: bedroom eyes and lips luscious—check. Blue sundress: cut low for ample cleavage, but long enough to participate in countless possible first date outing activities—check. I inhale and then exhale a ragged breath before I traipse the short distance through my bedroom to the front door.

A peek through the tiny hole in the door gives rise to my bubbling nerves. Chase in a firefighter uniform is tempting, but Chase in a button down, rolled to just over his elbows and a pair of khaki shorts paired with Converse. Holy hell, my ovaries just did the Macarena. With a flip of the locks and a pull of the door, he’s standing before me.

“Hey, Callie. Wow! You look beautiful.” He grins that knowing smile and moves to wrap me in a hug. I’m still standing in my doorway and it gives me a few extra inches on my usual height. I’m pretty much eye level with his broad chest so I twist my chin to not get makeup on his shirt. His strong arms feel delicious wrapped around my body. He releases me from his hold and backs up, putting space between us. I step onto the porch and pull the door closed behind me.

“You look really beautiful, too.”

Chase raises one brow and scrunches up his face at my compliment.

“Sorry. You’re not beautiful. Not to say you aren’t pretty.”
Oh, God, make me stop.
Chase’s eyes twinkle in the porchlight. “I mean, you look good. Good enough to eat, really. Super tasty. Shit. I’m gonna shut up now.” I shake my head.

Chase laughs that deep throaty sound and I relax enough to join in. Even if it’s at my own expense.

“Can we start over?” I suggest. He nods.

“Hey, Callie. You look beautiful tonight.” He hugs me again.

I hold on to the fabric of his shirt, pull myself onto the balls of my sandaled feet, and lean into his personal space with a deep inhale. I step back and smile.

“Did you just smell me?” He chuckles.

“Yeah. I did.” I grin.

“Why?” He reaches out and envelopes my hand in his. His touch is both unfamiliar and exciting. I can’t fight the smile that fills my face. We walk the driveway to where he’s parked at the curb.

“Is it weird that I expected to smell smoke?” I sneak a side glance and catch the grin that pulls at his lips.

“Callie, I do take showers. Especially before a hot date.”

“Mmmm . . . I appreciate that.” I nod, earning a chuckle. He drops my hand to open the passenger door. Holy crap! “Nice fucking ride, Mr. Firepants! A ’68 Camaro?” It’s fully restored, too. Though I love that he went with a gunmetal gray in place of the standard red or baby blue for that year. I slide into the soft leather and let my eyes flutter shut. Holy car gods, there’s nothing hotter than a hot guy with a hot ride. Chase closes my door and I click the seatbelt into place. I run my fingertips over the stitched leather of the seat and resist the urge to moan.

“I hit jackpot, didn’t I?” He clicks his own belt and turns over the engine. The roar and rumble fills my ears. Yes, a 396ci motor and dual quad carburetors. Holy fuck, she sounds nice.

“Shh . . . just give me a moment.” I turn my chin and open my eyes to find his gaze trained on my breasts. Hell, yes. “Can you give her a li’l gas?”

His eyes snap to mine and his foot taps the pedal, filling the engine’s need. His eyes widen and he bites down on his lower lip. Hot as fuck. I lick my lips and my pulse quickens.

“You’re a car girl? Aren’t you?” he murmurs. I nod, unable to speak, and transfixed from the fire in his eyes. The fabric of my dress clings to my skin. My body heats. Hell, it’s too hot. Do all firemen have this power or is this just a Chase thing?

“Jack. Fucking. Pot,” Chase mutters. He trains his gaze on the road and pulls out with a jolt. I try not to fidget as I fight the need to simultaneously blast the A/C and assault the driver with my tongue.

Down Callie. Acting like a bitch in heat isn’t attractive.

Chase says nothing. Eyes fixated on the open road as he takes a few turns that I’m unfamiliar with. It’s dark. Really dark. These backroads don’t have street lights and there’s no moon to cast shadows across the passing landscape.

The sexual tension in the car fades to that of an uncomfortable quiet. He’s seemingly distracted by the winding pavement roads and I’m wracking my mind for something to say. Witty, sexy, interesting—any comment of that variety would be good, but my mind’s coming up empty.

And this is why I hate first dates.

I want to know everything about this man. Badger him with questions. Fast forward through the get-to-know-you song and dance so we can get to the good stuff. Hopes, dreams, deep conversation. But that’s not first date protocol and I don’t want to come off as a freak.

“So, firefighting?”
Lame, Callie.

Chase glances over with a quirk of his lip and then back at the road. “Yeah.”

Good segue.
Okay, start with the basics. I can use this to decipher his age. Or at least the range. I lift my voice above the rumble of the motor. “And you’ve been doing that for how long, exactly?”