The Firefighter Meets His Match (Red Hot Reunions Book 4) (5 page)

Losing Isaiah had been as responsible for Lucy needing to shut down her intuitive abilities as the body she’d found in the woods. After learning he was gone, she hadn’t been able to handle other people’s problems. Her own pain already felt unmanageable.

But it had been almost a year since that visit to Isaiah’s grave and months since she’d moved back home. It was time to stop existing and start living, to stop watching the people she cared about take the stage, while she sat in the audience, hiding in the anonymous darkness. Isaiah wouldn’t have wanted her to cocoon herself in her misery. He would have wanted her to grieve, heal, and move on.

Fear, pain, old wounds, and troubled feelings aside, Lucy knew she shouldn’t let a chance to meet someone interesting slip through her fingers. For the first time in ages, she felt something when she looked at a man, a curiosity that made her toes tingle as she watched Brandon lift his arms into the air and begin to move to the music.

She finally felt ready to dance, too, and she didn’t want to dance alone.

Taking a deep breath, Lucy tightened her pigtails, slugged down the last of her Lady Slipper—hoping the fizzy pink drink would help her courage hold until she reached Brandon and the rest of her group—and slid out of the booth. She crossed the dance floor on trembling legs, weaving between the reeling couples dancing around the outer edges before joining the men and women dancing in the center.

And then she slid into an open spot across from Brandon, gave him a big smile, and let the music take her away.

Lucy had been accused of being many things in her life—eccentric, quirky, prone to rashes after eating strawberries, and just plain odd in her thoughts and habits—but an inhibited dancer had never been one of them. She danced like the devil was playing his fiddle just for her, like the world was about to end and her life depended on giving her body up to the music and letting the sparks of her soul fly out her fingertips as she dipped and writhed and spun.

At first, Brandon didn’t seem to know quite how to take her unbridled enthusiasm, but after a few moments he began to mirror her movements, getting into the groove nearly as much as she was. He was—surprisingly—an amazing dancer, and moved with a confidence and control she wouldn’t have expected in a man of so few words.

But so far Brandon was full of surprises, and proving to be way more interesting than she’d given him credit for.

By the time the first song ended and another began, they were moving in harmony. By the end of the second song, Lucy was giggling with the joy that came from letting loose, and by the end of the third song—when the band broke into a bluesy ballad—she was ready to step into Brandon’s arms.

She went to him, threading her fingers together behind his neck, smiling up into his gray-blue eyes as his arms went to her waist and pulled her close.

“You’re a great dancer,” he said, only slightly out of breath. “Really amazing.”

“Thanks, you too,” she said, panting, deciding she needed to add jogging to her list of things to get back to doing on a regular basis. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah?” Brandon’s pale brows lifted, but his expression remained guarded.

Lucy nodded. “I’ve been thinking about what you asked me yesterday and…you were right. I was discriminating, and that was a jerk move.”

Brandon lifted one broad shoulder, making Lucy aware of the thick muscles beneath his black tee shirt. “It’s okay. I may be six years younger than you are, but I’m a big boy, Lucy. We can still be friends. It’s no big deal.”

“But what if I…don’t want to be friends?” Lucy said, heart slamming against her ribs, this getting-back-to-living stuff scarier than she’d thought it would be.

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…maybe eating pizza together sounds like a good idea, after all.”

Brandon blinked, watching her for a long moment before his lips curved gently. “Oh. Okay. Well…I like you, and I like pizza, so…”

Lucy smiled. “So you’ll give me another shot at that date?”

“On one condition,” he said, his eyes smokier than they were a moment before.

“What’s that?” Lucy met his gaze, awareness tickling through her belly for the first time in over a year.

In black skinny jeans, purple converse, and a faded Heart concert tee, she was the least dressed up of the members of the bachelorette party, but you wouldn’t know it from the way Brandon was looking at her. He looked at her like she was something special, like she was five foot two inches of cool lemonade and he a man with a lemon and sugar fetish.

“We seal the deal with a kiss,” he said, leaning down until their faces were only a few inches apart.

But he was so much taller than she was, there was no way he’d be able to get that kiss without her cooperation. Lucy was going to have to play her part.

Before she could second-guess the wisdom of making out with a guy in front of her bosses and half his work buddies, Lucy pushed up onto tiptoe, sneakers squeaking as she brought her lips to Brandon’s.

The moment their mouths connected, she knew this hadn’t been a mistake. Her first taste of him made her heart flutter, her second made her feel like the north end of a magnet finding its southern pole, and the third made her soul feel like it was shooting out rays of light.

She felt connected to the world and everything in it, a part of the seamless dance of life and death in a way she hadn’t been since she shut down the part of herself that had always made her feel empathy with creation. But now, she was back in tune and humming on the perfect frequency.

Kissing Brandon was more than wonderful or sexy or right. It was all of those things, but it was also a confirmation kiss, a kiss unlike any she’d shared except with Isaiah years ago.

The night she’d first kissed Isaiah, she’d known that they were going to fall hard for each other. It didn’t matter that they’d met ten minutes before or that the bulk of their conversation had been shouted over a
Grass Mama
song so loud Lucy’s ears had rung for days afterward. She hadn’t doubted the truth of the feeling that suffused her when her lips met Isaiah’s for a moment.

And now, she’d found it again. A kiss that proved that love was out there and a particular man was meant just for her. She’d never dreamed she and Brandon would be something special, but now she thanked God she’d found her way into his arms. She couldn’t wait to know him better, to fall in love for the second time knowing this might be the person she’d get to keep. Forever.

Lucy relished the delicious feeling coursing beneath her skin, smiling against Brandon’s lips as their kiss grew deeper, more intimate, and so sexy Lucy would have been tempted to climb him like a tree, wrap her legs around his narrow waist, and take things to the next level if they hadn’t been in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by friends and co-workers—and if the darkness that had been hovering around her for the past two days hadn’t picked that moment to sweep in, cooling her blood faster than ice cubes plunked into a glass of sweet tea.

She saw rushing water, felt the cold as it closed over her head, and terror coursing through her body, but beyond that the vision was murky. But she knew this was the reason for the feeling of foreboding that had haunted her for days, and that someone was going to die—and soon—if she didn’t do something to stop what she’d seen from happening.

Lucy pulled her mouth from Brandon’s, the vision fading as she opened her eyes. “I saw something,” she said, her breath coming fast.

What if she lost Brandon before they’d had a chance to get started, what if he was the person who was going to die. It made sense—why else would she have had the vision while they were kissing?

She didn’t know, but she knew she wasn’t going to let anything happen to him, not when she’d just realized they were meant to be.

“Can we get out of here? Go to your place, maybe?” she asked, hurrying on when his eyes widened. “I don’t mean to…you know. Though I’d like to do that before too long, but…” She took a deep breath. “I know this might sound crazy, but I had a vision and I think you might be in danger.”

Brandon frowned, but his arms stayed tight around her. “What kind of danger?”

“I saw water and felt cold as someone went under,” Lucy said. “And I think that someone is you. Back when I worked for the APD, I would touch objects that had significance to the case to get a bead on the people involved. If you’re the one who’s going to be in trouble, it makes sense that kissing you might have triggered the vision.”

Brandon frowned harder and for a frantic moment Lucy was afraid he would tell her she was crazy and walk away, but then he nodded and said—

“I’ll go get my truck and pull up to the front door. That way you won’t get too wet.”

Lucy sighed with relief. “Thank you so much.”

Brandon smiled. “Thank you. For the kiss and…for wanting to watch out for me.”

“No problem.” Lucy said, silently adding,
always
, as he took her hand and led her across the dance floor.

Her heart had finally woken up and she wasn’t letting anything put it back to sleep, not wind or rain or a hundred forbidding visions.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Faith

By the time Faith stumbled into her apartment a little after midnight, her heels were blistered from dancing in her galoshes, her skin was sticky with sweat, and her mascara had started to run from a combination of laughing until she cried and getting soaked as she dashed through the rain to her apartment’s front door.

She was certain she looked a wreck, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had that much fun with a group of women.

“How did it go?” Mick asked, grinning up at her from the couch where he and Captain Snugglepants, the cat, were ensconced with a fleece blanket and every remote control in the house, watching a fishing show that Mick shut off as she closed the door behind her.

“I had the best time,” Faith said, struggling out of her shoes. “I laughed my head off, and danced for hours, and actually
enjoyed
it.”

“No.” Mick’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding me.”

Faith shook her head. “Nope. I shook my groove thing like it was my job, dude.
My job
.”

He chuckled. “Does this mean you’re going to make me dance more than one dance at the reception?”

Faith circled around the couch to collapse next to him with a heavy sigh. “Nah. I’ll probably decide I hate dancing again by then.”

“I hope not,” Mick said, sliding his arm around her and pulling her close. “I’d like to see you shake your groove thing like it’s your job.”

Faith glanced up at him, narrowing her eyes. “Speaking of groove things, how did the bachelor party go?”

Mick shrugged. “We played poker and ate wings and drank a little too much beer. Nothing eventful.”

“No surprise strippers?” she asked.

“There was a boob cake, but no strippers,” Mick said. “I made the guys promise not to hire any. Female strippers are depressing.”

“Male strippers are hysterical,” Faith said, giggling. “I laughed so hard I cried.”

Mick grinned. “I know. Maddie texted me. She was so glad you were having a good time.”

“She’s so nice,” Faith said. “I’ve never had anyone throw me a big party like that. Not even on my birthday when I was a kid. Mom and I always just went over to my cousins’ house to BBQ and eat a cake my aunt made from a box.”

“You deserved a big party. I’m glad you had fun.” Mick leaned in to kiss the top of her hair, then her temple, before his lips began to trail down her neck, making her heart beat faster.

“I did,” Faith said, smiling as she shifted in his arms, bringing her lips a whisper away from his. “But I’m still up for more fun.”

“I was hoping you would say that,” Mick said, a husky note in his voice as he reached over, hooking his hand under her left knee and pulling her up and over to straddle him on the couch.

Captain Snugglepants leapt from the cushions with an irritable yeowl and dashed for the kitchen like he was being chased by a pack of rabid dogs.

Faith chuckled. “I think we’re traumatizing the cat with the constant banging,” she said as Mick’s hands settled on her hips, drawing her closer.

“We close the door to the bedroom most of the time,” Mick said, his warm palms slipping up the back of her silver tank top to caress her bare skin. “Besides, I warned him earlier that I’d be making a play for you as soon as you walked in the door. I can’t be expected to resist you in this shirt.”

“Why’s that?” Faith’s breath rushed out as Mick’s hands molded to her ribs before slipping around to cup her breasts.

“It’s the shirt you were wearing the night I started to fall in love with you,” he said, thumbs brushing across her nipples, sending waves of desire coursing between her legs.

“The night I vomited on that guy’s shoes?” Faith’s fingers threaded through Mick’s thick black curls, holding tight as he intensified his efforts at her breasts, teasing her tightened tips between his fingers and thumbs until she moaned.

“The same,” he said, abandoning her swollen flesh to strip her tank top over her head, a soft curse escaping his lips as his gaze swept up and down—from her wild hair, to her bare breasts, to where her thighs spread on either side of his hips and back again. “You are so beautiful like this.”