Playing With Fire (17 page)

"We're waiting on you.” Emilio drummed his fingers on his desktop.

Matt brought his attention back to the group, and in a dispassionate voice, said, “She was relieved when the vet called. The hug was both impulsive and innocent. Afterwards, I didn't want to let her go.” A spark flickered briefly in his eyes. “What can I say? I'm a guy. She's an attractive woman. An opportunity to hold her presented itself and I took it. Dennis walked in on us. He made a remark I took issue with and I got mad. The entire incident is my fault."

"Don't listen to him.” Lindsay almost came out of her chair. “It isn't all his fault."

Emilio shot her a warning look, and she quickly returned to her chair. “Are you admitting you took advantage of Lindsay and then instigated a confrontation with Dennis?” he asked Matt.

Matt nodded stonily. “Yes, I am."

Emilio jotted down more notes.

Dennis grunted with satisfaction.

Lindsay struggled to make sense of the last ten minutes. What did Matt hope to gain by shouldering the blame? They'd all contributed to varying degrees, her more than Dennis. If she hadn't hugged Matt...

Then all at once, she knew. Matt was protecting her. Both her career and her reputation.

Damn him!

Emilio dropped his pencil, reclined in his chair and stiffly flexed the fingers of his right hand. “I want a written report from each of you on my desk by the end of the shift. After I've reviewed them and checked with Fire Administration, I'll advise you of my decision. The process may take several days. Until then, you're not to discuss the matter with anyone else in the department or with each other. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir,” they said in unison.

"Dismissed."

They exited Emilio's office single file, Lindsay in the lead. For the first time since becoming a firefighter, she planned on deliberately disobeying a direct order from her captain. She would definitely talk to Matt about this. And soon.

Chapter 10

Matt swung open his front door and found Lindsay standing on the stoop, a let's-have-a-serious-talk expression on her face. He'd been half expecting her since arriving home from work several hours ago. It was one of the reasons he'd stayed awake instead of crashing right away, like usual.

"Morning.” He stood back and indicated for her to enter. “Cup of coffee? It's not Starbucks."

"No, thanks. I'm coffeed-out."

"How's Booter? Did you stop and see him?"

"He's good, but sore. Hopefully, his glove eating days are over."

Matt observed her demeanor as she strode past him into the middle of the living room. Purposeful, yet cautious. Well, they were in his house, after all. His territory. She may have initiated the game, but he had home court advantage.

There were, however, other factors in her favor. Like clothes. She wore shorts and a tee-shirt. Sure, he saw her in shorts and a tee-shirt on a regular basis at work. But those shorts weren't nearly so ... short. And hip-hugging. The department issued tee-shirts didn't display a three-inch strip of bare belly beneath the hem. Or mold to her breasts and rib cage like plastic wrap on a glass bowl.

His hormones kicked in with a vengeance. He was going to have a hell of a time concentrating on whatever speech she'd prepared. But then, he thought with wry amusement, she probably planned it that way.

"If not coffee, can I get you a cold drink? Soda? Iced tea? Water?"

Matt closed the door and came up behind Lindsay. Dipping his head, he inhaled her scent. She'd showered recently and used that citrus body wash he liked. If he closed his eyes, he could almost see the white, foamy suds spilling down her naked breasts. Feel the luxuriant lather between his fingers as he smoothed his hand over the small of her back and the rounded curve of her buttocks.

She turned and started, evidently not expecting to find him so close. “We need to talk."

Blinking away the vision, he cleared his suddenly dry throat. “I figured as much. We can sit in here or at the kitchen table.” He gestured broadly. “Your choice."

"Here's fine.” She took a seat on the far end of the couch, not quite hugging the edge, but almost.

Wise of her to keep him at arm's length, he thought wryly. Wise, but in vain.

He plunked down right next to her, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. In part because he found perverse pleasure in unnerving her and also because he might not have a chance to be close to her again for some time. She squirmed uncomfortably, inflating his ego. He recalled the many incidents in the past when his proximity had made her nervous. Some things never change.

"So, what do you want to talk about?” He knew, of course, but played dumb.

"I'm surprised you have to ask."

So much for playing dumb. “If this is about yesterday, Emilio gave us strict orders not to discuss it."

"I don't care what Emilio said."

Matt cracked a smile. “Out and out defiance. That's not like you, Lindsay."

"As if we haven't broken a dozen rules and regulations already."

"Yeah". His abdomen tightened at the memories. “That we have."

"I refuse to let you take the fall for what happened yesterday. It's
not
your fault."

"It's
all
my fault."

"I hugged you."

"And I'm the one who wasn't satisfied with a hug. I'm also the one who attacked Dennis when I could have walked away."

"He provoked you."

"Damn straight he did.” The anger Matt had managed to contain all day exploded. “I should have nailed his ass to the wall for what he said about you."

"You were right not to."

The acute sadness in her voice had the same effect on his anger as water on flames. “Maybe.” He sighed tiredly. “I don't want to lose my job and neither does Dennis."

"You know you're going to receive a formal reprimand."

"No less than I deserve. After a year, I'll petition to have it removed from my record."

"And you'll be transferred whether or not your promotion comes through. At the very least, you'll be reassigned to a different shift."

He laid his head back on the couch. “That's a given."

"I'm going to Emilio,” she said determinedly. “Tell him I encouraged you."

"I'll deny it."

"He'll believe me."

"No, he won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

Matt's head came off the couch. “Easy. Because when I tell him we're sleeping together, he'll understand why I did what I did to Dennis. He won't condone it, but he'll understand it."

Shock registered on her face. “You'd tell him we're sleeping together!"

"I will if I have to. He can't fire us for sleeping together on our own time. Only for touching inappropriately while on the job."

Now it was her turn to be angry. “It's not your duty to protect me."

He reached for her, gently fitting his palm to her cheek. “Let me. Please. I'm not the one fighting for acceptance by my peers.” When she attempted to avert her head, he held her chin and forced her to look at him. “So I got carried away and nearly decked a coworker. I'm hardly the first person guilty of that. And Dennis has as many enemies in the department as he has friends. No one will fault me. But if word leaks that you were in any way, shape, or form responsible, the men will shut you out like that.” He gentled both his hold and voice. “Dennis will have won. Is that what you want?"

He could tell by the tension in her jaw, it required all her willpower to resist arguing with him. She didn't speak. Not for several moments. Then she said what she'd come there to say from the beginning.

"I've been giving this a lot of thought. I think we should stop seeing each other for a while."

Matt released her and sagged into the couch. Anticipating the words didn't make hearing them any less difficult. “Are you sure?"

She sagged beside him. “Yeah. I am."

He hated admitting it, but she was right. As right as he'd been about taking responsibility for the incident with Dennis.

"We're talking temporary arrangement here."

"Absolutely,” she said with conviction.

"We're back together as soon as this all blows over."

"The very instant it does.” She stood and picked up the small purse she'd laid on the coffee table when she first arrived. “I should get going. I'm beat and so are you."

There was a time, only yesterday in fact, when they'd have gone to bed together, for sleep and other activities. “I'll call you later,” he promised, walking her outside to where her car was parked in the driveway. Their parting kiss was brief and reserved.

Matt waved good-bye as she drove off, smiling broadly. It took a lot of effort on his part. He didn't feel much like smiling. In fact, what he really felt like doing was punching a hole in the nearest wall.

Matt hesitated only briefly before putting pen to paper and signing the official reprimand that would become a permanent part of his personnel file. He didn't regret assuming responsibility for the incident with Dennis and would do so again if need be. What he did regret was no longer working with Lindsay.

His transfer had come through in record time. Not, however, his promotion. No surprise there. Technically, the reprimand couldn't be held against him. If an opening came up, he'd be promoted to fill it regardless. But for some inexplicable reason, there'd been a delay in the process. Matt supposed if he toed the line for the next several months, the mysterious snafu would disappear.

He'd wait. Besides, what choice did he have?

"I'm sorry,” Emilio said, taking the paper from Matt and placing it in a file. They sat across from each other, Emilio behind his desk, Matt in front of it.

"What for?” Matt shrugged philosophically. “You're just doing your job."

"I can't help thinking there's more going on here than any of you are telling me. Care to enlighten me?"

"Not really."

The older man squinted one eye at Matt. “Is that, not-really-I-don't-care-to-enlighten-you, or is that, not-really-there's-nothing-going-on?"

"Take your pick."

Emilio chuckled, which wasn't the reaction Matt expected. He hadn't told the captain about his involvement with Lindsay. There'd been no need because she hadn't gone to him as she'd threatened.

Yet.

Matt knew the burden of guilt weighed heavily on her, and her sense of justice might eventually prevail.

She may be relieved of that burden soon. From the glimmer of suspicion in Emilio's eyes, the captain had put two and two together and come up with, if not four, something close to it. If he confronted Lindsay, she would, no doubt, confess everything.

Another good reason for Matt to transfer to a different station. If Emilio had guessed he and Lindsay were dating, others would, too. And until the incident with Dennis became a distant memory in people's minds, they were better off assigned to different stations.

Emilio's chuckle faded, and he sat back in his chair, scrutinizing Matt closely. “All right. I can't force you to tell me. But if you ever want to talk, I'm here. I may not be your captain after tomorrow, but I'm still your friend."

Touched, Matt accepted the offer in the same spirit it had been given. “Thanks. I'm going to miss this place. There isn't a better crew in the whole department."

"Even with Dennis?"

"Personality problems aside, he's a heck of an engineer."

"Yes, he is,” Emilio concurred, propping his elbows on his desk. “You'll like Station 147. Kent Leonard is a fine captain with twenty plus years under his belt. He's demanding, but fair. He can teach you a lot."

"So I've heard. I'm looking forward to working with him."

Emilio stood, and Matt did likewise. They shook hands. “Good luck, son. And don't be a stranger. Stop in and visit when you can."

"I will."

Outside Emilio's office, Matt hesitated. He wasn't in the mood to socialize. Neither did he relish secluding himself in his bedroom. Heading left instead of right, he ambled into the apparatus room, no particular destination in mind. Booter met him on the other side of the engine, tail wagging.

"Hey, boy. Happy to be home from the hospital?"

The dog whined and stiffly lowered himself to the concrete floor, then rested his head on his front paws. He stared up at Matt with large, doleful eyes.

Squatting beside the dog, Matt scratched him between the ears. “Still hurting, huh? I know how you feel. Me, too. Only my pain won't go away in a few days."

The dog nosed Matt's hand, then licked it.

"You be good, you hear? Take care of Lindsay for me."

Matt rose. Booter didn't. He smacked his lips and settled in for a snooze. Hearing the clang of metal, Matt turned toward the noise coming from down the hall. He'd assumed Lindsay and Dennis were in the living quarters on the other side of the station, watching TV or busy with lunch preparations. Apparently not.

Someone was in the weight room.

Matt looked back at Booter, sound asleep in the middle of the floor. The dog would never hang out with Dennis. And Lindsay frequently worked out, especially when she was under a lot of stress.

Leave
, he told himself.
Right now. Before it's too late
.

Being alone with Lindsay was asking for trouble. Especially in his current frame of mind. Saying he missed her hardly described the way he felt. The three days since he'd last seen her seemed more like three years. Her absence created a void in his life greater than the one left by his father, who'd all but ignored him practically since birth. And Matt hadn't thought that possible.

Disregarding his own sound advice—a stupid move, considering only twenty hours remained until he and Lindsay were no longer coworkers—he traversed the short hall to the weight room and peered inside. She lay on her back on a bench, lifting a barbell high over her head and counting out loud in a strained voice.

"Fourteen ... fifteen ... sixteen..."

Clad only in gym shorts and a sports bra, perspiration glistened on her upper arms and the narrow band of exposed flesh underneath the bra. He went motionless, careful not to reveal himself. She'd tell him to leave, and he very much wanted to stay. On the count of twenty-five, she replaced the barbell in the frame and sat up, facing away from him. After wiping her brow with the back of her hand, she got up and walked to the stationary bike on the other side of the room. Still oblivious to his presence, she mounted the bike and set the controls. Then she began to pedal, watching her reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror which ran the length of the wall.