Playing With Fire (2 page)

“Yeah, someone wanted them found and wanted as many people
as possible to know that they were here.”

After a long, thoughtful pause, he added, “Interesting. Very
interesting.”

Erin glanced shyly at the three-deep crowd of people eagerly
waiting to greet her. Connor insisted that every rookie on his team come to at
least one of his mother’s famous Sunday dinners. This was the third time he’d
asked Erin, and she couldn’t think of an excuse that would cut it. How do you
tell your Lieutenant that the last time you went out to dinner at someone’s
house was four years ago, and you weren’t sure you’d remember how to act.

Erin was horrified when she saw Mr. and Mrs. Lang decked out
in what looked like their Sunday best. Peeking around the corner she breathed a
sigh of relief. Several of the young women — most likely Connor’s sisters —
were wearing casual tank tops and shorts like hers. The surprising
late-September 90-degree heat and 60 percent humidity made anything else
ridiculous. But she was grateful all the same. Her entire wardrobe consisted
solely of exercise clothes and her uniforms that she left at the firehouse.
She’d debated for over an hour, then decided to take Connor at his word when he
said to wear something comfortable and casual. Choking at the price tag, she’d
bought a turquoise silk tank top that the sales clerk insisted was exactly the
color of her eyes, and a pair of white shorts. She’d tied her impossibly curly
long black hair up in a casual ponytail, the better to fit under her Twins cap
on the way home. She wore strappy sandals, her single extravagance, but carried
her running shoes in a bag. She’d managed to catch a bus that brought her
within a couple of blocks of the Lang’s house, but planned to run home.

The round of introductions included Connor’s beautiful and
very pregnant wife, Kaitlin, his three sisters, and his mother and father.
Absent was his older brother Lucas, who Connor had told her was serving in
Iraq. Connor’s father insisted that Erin call him Marcus, not Mr. Lang. He led
her through the kitchen to the tree-lined backyard. Marcus was a distinguished
man in his mid-fifties. It was easy to see where Connor got his flashing grey
eyes and warm smile. Mrs. Lang, who introduced herself as Mama D, was a
dark-haired pistol of a woman who clearly occupied the command post in the
household. After she’d ensured that everyone had drinks, she shooed them
outside to a picnic table laden with appetizers. Erin’s stomach growled, a
reminder that she hadn’t eaten much since the episode at the fire. It was a
good thing; food money was short this month. She knew better than to stuff
herself. Eating as little as she had in the past week, the last thing she
wanted to do was to throw up. She was already sensitive about the incident at
the fire, concerned that behind her back the men at the firehouse blamed the
nausea on the fact that she was a girl.

After several minutes of casual conversation, Erin began to
relax. This was the first social invitation she’d accepted since arriving in
Chicadia Falls. Not that she stayed cooped up in her dismal rental shack any
more than she had to. On the days she didn’t work, she spent most of her time
outdoors or at the gym. She was a hardcore runner and daily yoga practitioner.
When she wasn’t running, she worked out at the gym. She hadn’t passed basic
training at the Academy by sitting on her ass. No, she was as strong as she had
ever been in her life. Even more than the classroom training she could’ve aced
with her eyes closed, Erin treasured her perfect scores on the Academy’s
physical fitness tests.

Just when she’d begun to feel somewhat at ease, there was a
flurry of excitement in the kitchen. Mama D’s excited giggles and mock anger
fluttered out to the yard.

“It’s about time you showed that handsome face of yours. I
was about to come and find you. Even if I had to drag you away from the station
and tell all those people who overwork you that a big man like you has to eat.
Do you realize, you naughty man, it’s been three weeks since you were here?
That is three weeks too long to ignore your loving auntie!”

“Now, now, Mama D, you know I can’t stay away long from the
sexiest woman in my life.”

There was a chorus of girly voices gushing. “It’s Nate!”
“Nate’s here!”

Mama D’s melodic voice filled the yard.

“You just remember that, you big tease. But even the sexiest
woman in your life needs attention — lots of it.”

Their combined laughter signaled their arrival.

Kaitlin raised an ironic brow. “Thank goodness! The prodigal
son makes an appearance. Now maybe Mama D will stop harassing Connor to get his
cousin over here. As though anyone tells Nate what to do.”

Erin’s hand froze on her glass of lemonade in an effort to
keep from dropping it on the ground. She closed her eyes in the hopes that when
she opened them this nightmare would be over. No such luck. The big man coming
out of the kitchen with his arm around a giggling Mama D confirmed her
nightmare was just beginning.

Nate filled the doorway. It wasn’t only his tall muscled
body, it was his commanding presence. He owned the space and he knew it. She’d
noticed his dirt-blond hair at the fire scene, surprised that he was a cop. His
hair was too long, too shaggy for a rules-oriented department. His
regulation-defying beard shadow only added to his bad boy look. And how the
hell did a blond guy have dark eyebrows and eyelashes? It wasn’t fair. Blonds
were supposed to have pale nonexistent brows and lashes, not dark compelling
frames to set off obsidian eyes. Only the grooves around his incredibly sexy
mouth hinted that he might occasionally smile.

Erin sunk back in her chair, desperate to disappear. She
threw Connor a fierce glare but he was grinning at his cousin, oblivious to her
dismay.

Then Nate spotted her.

He frowned, and his lip curled in a reluctant, even
unpleasant smile.

“Well if it isn’t the little firefighter with the weak
stomach. Sure hope you didn’t put any spice in your chicken, Mama D. Connor’s
rookie seems to have trouble holding down her food.”

Erin reeled, too shocked to be angry. She rose to her feet,
trembling. She needed to leave. Now.

Ignoring the startled gasps from the wide-eyed group, she
mumbled, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I didn’t understand that it was a
family gathering. Please… excuse me.”

She bolted for the door but Nate caught her as she went by.

He pulled her up close to him and held her in one strong
arm. She tried to twist away but his grip was firm. Her heart was pounding, a
mix of fear and anger. Nate held up his other hand as if to ward off the
startled recriminations that would surely follow his rude remark, then looked
down at her.

“Look Erin — that’s spelled E.r.i.n., folks. That was a
crappy thing to say. You surprised me, that’s all. I didn’t know you were going
to be here. My apologies.”

Mama D bustled across the patio in short strides. Glaring up
at Nate, Erin thought she might shake her finger at him.

“Nathan Stryker. You better apologize to this sweet young
thing. Just look at her. She’s shaking. And you’re gripping her like she’s one
of those prisoners of yours you shove in the back of a squad car.”

Nate flushed and let go of her arm. He grinned, ducking the
darts his fierce aunt was throwing his way.

“Relax, Mama D. I’m not driving a squad today. And how do
you know this ‘sweet young thing’ isn’t shaking becuz she’s excited to see me?”

At the round of guffaws and groans that greeted Nate’s smart
remark, Erin jumped away, knowing her face was flaming. She looked longingly at
the door but neither Mama D nor Marcus — and now Connor, who’d had joined the
fray — seemed willing to let her go.

Mama D sniffed, pinning her nephew with a scowl.

“I know you think all you have to do is give one of those
10,000-watt smiles of yours and every woman will forgive your insulting
nonsense. But I have to tell you, Nathan, this little girl is no pushover. Are
you, honey?”

Erin prayed to every god she knew that the ground would open
up and swallow her whole… but since she wasn’t on speaking terms with any gods,
she simply nodded and whispered, “No, I’m not.”

The wicked smile on Nate’s face at her whispered response
compounded her embarrassment.

Ever the peacemaker, Connor grabbed her arm.

“C’mon, Erin. Let’s sit down. I promise you after two bites
of Mama D’s chicken cacciatore, you’ll think my bad boy cuz is a choir boy.
That’s the effect my mama’s food has on people.”

Kaitlin raised an eyebrow and smiled at Erin from across the
table with a distinctly ‘see what I have to put up with’ look on her face.

The sympathetic expression and cheerful wink galvanized
Erin. She sat down in the chair Connor pulled out for her, and determined to
enjoy the dinner… and to never look at or speak to Nathan Stryker again.

But her good intentions to relax and enjoy herself fell
flat. All of the Lang family made an effort to include her in their boisterous
conversation, peppering her with one question after another. She did her best
to be gracious, friendly. But it was no use. The last thing she wanted was to
be here, and the second to the last thing was to talk about herself. At each
one of their overtures, she kept her answers brief, and tried to smile when she
answered multi-faceted questions with a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’.

Amy, Connor’s seventeen-year-old sister, was most interested
in Erin’s career choice.

“However did you decide to become a firefighter? Was it
something you always wanted to do? Since you were a little girl?”

Erin shook her head.

“No, it was a recent decision.”

Amy waited for her to say more. When Erin didn’t fill the
silence, Amy flushed and glanced at Connor who shrugged.

Cherie took up the interrogation.

“It must have been so hard. From what I hear, the Academy is
horrible. Connor tells us about all the people, even men, who can’t make it
through basic training. Don’t you have to lift, like — heavy stuff?”

Erin smiled.

“Yes, you do. Very ‘heavy stuff.’”

While the rest of the family seemed to accept that this line
of conversation was going nowhere, Glenna, at nine years old, wasn’t put off by
the non-answers.

“I know I’m not supposed to say personal thinks to people
becuz it might hurt their feelings. But you don’t look very strong, Erin. In
fact you look kinda scrawny.”

Seeing Connor and Nate exchange a wink, Erin managed to keep
from throwing a glass at each of them. She turned to the young girl with a smile.

“I’m stronger than I look, Glenna. I’ve had to be. Unlike
the men at the Academy, women have to be strong emotionally as well as
physically — to put up with all the abuse that comes their way. You’d be
surprised how many immature, obnoxious men they let graduate.” She paused for
effect, then continued. “I imagine it is the same at the police academy, if not
worse.”

At this response, everyone at the table laughed, including
Nate, who gave her a thumbs up and said with a grin, “Touche!”

Mama D broke in with a smile.

“As a mother I can only imagine how proud your parents are
of you, Erin. Such a lovely girl doing such dangerous work.”

Erin bit her lip, then raised her chin and looked directly
at her.

“I don’t have parents. They’re dead. They have been for a
long time.”

A hush fell over the table. Everyone stared at Erin, clearly
surprised by her flat statement.

Mama D’s dark eyes widened and a sympathetic frown creased
her forehead.

“I see. Well that is too darn bad, honey. But I know they’d
be proud of you if they could see you now.”

When Erin merely nodded, Mama D, obviously trying to change
the conversation, asked, “Where did you say you are from, honey?”

Erin took a deep breath and looked down at her napkin in her
lap.

“A long way from here,” she said with a wistful sigh.

Looking up at the darkening sky, she rose and smiled softly
glancing around the table.

“It looks like it might rain. I really need to go. Thank you
for a lovely dinner. I enjoyed it.”

She turned to Connor. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Connor jumped to his feet. “Wait, Erin. I’ll give you a ride
home.”

Erin was firm, working her way to the doorway, pausing only
to drop a light kiss on Mama D’s cheek and toss a smile at Kaitlin.

“No, Connor. Thanks, but you know I’m a fanatic. If I don’t
get my ten miles in, I’m crabby, hard to live with.”

Nate was incredulous. “You’re gonna run? Right after
eating?”

Erin turned to the group and ignored Nate’s remark, trying
to keep her voice light, casual.

“Thank you again. The food was excellent. I appreciate your
including me.”

Amidst the chorus of goodbyes, she made a beeline for the
door.

Nate and Connor both rose and followed her into the house.

Nate frowned at his cousin as he headed after Erin.

“What the hell did she mean? She runs home?”

Connor put his hand on Nate’s arm, holding him back.

“Wait up, big guy.”

Nate glowered and stopped at the kitchen door.

Connor continued in a low voice.

“Yeah, she doesn’t have a car. Something happened to hers.
It’s not something she advertises. Doesn’t want the Chief to think she can’t
handle an emergency. You know. Oftentimes we have to be at a site in minutes
not hours.”

Nate moved away from Connor’s restraining hand.

“Where does she live?”

“About two blocks away from the shithole that exploded last
week.”

“What? She lives in Charlotte Prairie?”

Nate fought to hide his concern from his aunt and uncle who
had followed them out to the kitchen. He glued on a smile and turned to his
aunt.

“Look, Mama D. I’m going to head out. Thanks for the great
food. I won’t eat again for a week!”