Feisty Firefighters Bundle Page 9

  Her eyes chilled several degrees. “If you don’t mind…”

  “Amber.” He controlled himself, but the smile remained. “Admit it, you’re jealous as hell.”

  Aghast, she stared at him. “You’ve been drinking.”

  “I don’t drink.”

  “Then you’re delusional.” She leaned forward. “Just so you know, I never get jealous. Certainly not over a nitwit who enjoys dating brainless-”

  “Careful,” he said, laughing again. “You might prove my point.”

  She was still for a long beat. Then regally she rose and pointed an elegant finger at the door. “I think you should leave.”

  “So you can recapture that famous control?” He rose, too, and came around her desk. “I don’t think so. Watching your temper rise is fascinating, Amber. In fact, everything about you is fascinating.”

  She shook her head, her composure slipping enough to show her genuine confusion. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

  “Lots. But I’ll start with this.” He hauled her into his arms and kissed her. It was a stupid move, uncalculated as it was genuine, but he didn’t stop.

  She went still as stone, but didn’t push him away. Taking that for permission, he dove into her sweet mouth, mating his tongue to hers, giving, urging, pouring everything he had into that kiss until he felt her hands open on his shoulders, then grab fistfuls of his shirt.

  “Yeah, now that’s what I’ve wanted all damn day,” he whispered. “That and this…” He kissed her again, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her closer, then closer still.

  With a little murmur of acquiescence that made him even hotter, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back until he couldn’t remember his name, much less his point.

  When the kiss ended, he murmured in her ear.

  “The women meant nothing to me,” he said. “It was an obligation, one I made months ago.” Lifting his head, he looked into her eyes. “They paid big bucks. Money that will be well spent.” He kissed her again. The helpless sounds of arousal she made were the most erotic he’d ever heard. “Be jealous, Amber. Wish you could take their place if you want. Kiss me stupid again if it helps. But please, don’t be mad at me anymore.”

  She touched her wet mouth, looking shell-shocked, as if she couldn’t believe how she’d lost herself. “I’m not angry,” she whispered and sank into her chair. “I need to work now.”

  She needed to think, he realized, and he would let her because that was how she worked, and he didn’t intend to rush her.

  Hell, he didn’t want to rush himself.

  Leaning in close, he gave her one last kiss, pleased to feel her cling to him for just a second.

  He was half out of her office when she called him. Turning, he looked at her over his shoulder.

  “I wasn’t jealous,” she told him. “Much.” Her mouth curved as she offered him a smile, and Dax felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders.

  8

  T HAT NIGHT , arms full of her briefcase, a diaper bag, dinner and Taylor, Amber let herself into her condo. Her feet were killing her and so was the whirlwind her life had become.

  Going back to work had been good for her self-esteem because she was still good at it. She needed the money, too, having depleted her savings over the past year in Mexico. But balancing her wild hours with her newfound motherhood was much tougher than she could have imagined.

  Naturally, before she could set a thing down, the phone rang. Dropping her purse and dinner to the counter, she freed up a hand to grab it.

  “Let’s start all over.”

  The low, sexy voice liquefied her bones. “Excuse me?”

  “I want to start over,” Dax said.

  Amber settled the phone between her jaw and shoulder, and kicked off her heels. “From where?”

  “From the beginning, but I’d settle for the night I brought you dinner. Was it good by the way?”

  Amber placed Taylor in her swing. Her jacket hit a chair and relieved of all her weight, she sagged against the counter. “I suppose I should apologize for that. But yes, it was good.” She paused. “So was yours.”

  Dax laughed softly and the sound vibrated through her body, pooling in certain erogenous spots she rarely thought about.

  “I like a woman with a healthy appetite.”

  She thought about the smile she could hear in his voice and wondered if all the women he rescued fell for him. Probably, she admitted.

  But she was above such things.

  “How was lunch with my father?” she asked, purposely hardening herself. “I never got to ask you.”

  “Your father is a single-minded, opinionated, walking, talking ego.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Okay…You care what he thinks of you.”

  How was it that he went directly to the heart of the matter every time? And how was it that she let him?

  “He’s also stubborn as hell,” he said. “Just like his daughter.”

  Amber laughed, then shook her head at herself. Distance, she reminded herself. She needed to keep her distance.

  Never an easy thing with this man.

  She set a sleepy Taylor in motion by gently pushing the swing. “Is this why you called, to list my failings?”

  “I grew up with five sisters, I know better than to list a woman’s failings. But I could give you a full list of your positive attributes if you’d like. I have a most excellent memory.”

  Her breath caught. Laughter faded, replaced by a needy emptiness she didn’t want to face. “It was a long time ago. It’s best forgotten.”

  “I’ll never forget.”

  Her hand stilled on Taylor’s swing. “You think about sex far too much.”

  “Well I’m red-blooded, aren’t I?”

  “Yeah.” He most definitely was.

  “But I’ve told you, it was far more than just sex. Let me prove it to you.”

  His voice alone could convince her. She could only be thankful he wasn’t here in person to add his smile, his eyes, his incredible hands to the magic.

  With a sigh, she set a kettle of water on the stove. She needed tea, her own personal comfort drink. “What did you want, Dax?”

  “To talk.”

  About their kiss? About the fact she’d nearly let it go much further than a kiss? “About?” she asked cautiously.

  “Lots of stuff.”

  Could he really have called just to talk? With her?

  “But let’s start with your father.”

  Her stomach clenched. Of course not.

  “He’d like to see Taylor sometime. I told him that was entirely up to you.”

  “I’ve offered to take her to him before,” she said coolly.

  “He wasn’t ready. He is now.”

  “I suspect you had a great deal to do with that.”

  “I thought you’d be happy.”

  She should be, should also be grateful, but instead she only resented the fact that Dax had accomplished overnight what she hadn’t been able to do it in a year’s time. “I’ll think about it,” she said, knowing she sounded prim, polite. Difficult.

  “Fair enough,” he said, accepting her answer so quickly she felt suspicious.

  With good reason.

  “I have another favor. This one’s a toughie.”

  She’d nearly forgotten to be leery of him! How had he done this to her, gotten her to actually almost trust him? “I don’t care to be pushed into a decision about seeing my father.”

  “My favor has nothing to do with your father. I wanted you and Taylor to come with me to a barbecue tomorrow night. At my parents.”

  She blinked and drew a careful breath as her brain struggled to shift gears. “Why?”

  “I don’t know, maybe because you’re the mother of my child?” He laughed at her silence. “It’s not a death sentence. You go, you eat, you smile, you laugh-Wait…it doesn’t hurt you to laugh, does it?”

  “Sometimes.�
�� But she did it anyway as she sat at her table. “I’m sorry. I thought…well, never mind.”

  “You thought I was going to railroad you into doing something you don’t want to do.”

  Yes.

  “For the record,” he said, his voice solemn now. “I would never, never, do that.”

  “Never is a long time, Dax.”

  “Yes.”

  “What will happen if we disagree about something?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She bounced up again, stalked the length of her kitchen. “You’ll expect me to do things your way.”

  “Haven’t you ever heard of give-and-take?”

  “You expect me to believe you’ll let me do things my way?”

  “Yes! Look, I know I don’t hold back much. I have a wide range of emotions, and I’m afraid I have a temper, too.” His voice gentled, became disturbingly intimate. “But I’d never hurt you, Amber. It’s not a stretch for me to make that promise. It shouldn’t be a stretch for anyone to make you that promise.”

  “Yeah well, you’d be surprised.”

  “I wish we were having this conversation in person. So that I could touch you while I tell you all this.”

  Heat, the kind he always seemed to cause within her, warmed her from head to toe. “That’s…probably not wise.”

  “When I touch you, you let down that guard. When I kiss you, you let go even more. You let me see the real you.”

  She took a deep breath because suddenly she couldn’t seem to get enough air, but the yearning deep inside her didn’t fade.

  “I like that real you, Amber.”

  She let out a disparaging sound and sat down again. “I never know what to say to you.”

  “Say you believe me. That you believe in us.”

  “There is no us.”

  As if he heard her panic, he softened his voice even more. “Us as in Taylor’s parents.”

  “That’s all.”

  “That’s the most important,” he agreed. “For now. You and Taylor, you can depend on me, Amber. That’s a promise, and I’ve never broken one yet.”

  No one had ever made her a promise and kept it.

  “What do you think, Amber? Can I pick you and Taylor up tomorrow night. At six? You’ll have a great time.”

  “Another promise.”

  “Absolutely.”

  She swallowed hard, fighting her vulnerability with every ounce of strength she possessed. It helped to glance over and see Taylor sleeping peacefully. Happy and content. “Tomorrow, then,” she whispered, and hung up before Dax could question the quiver in her voice.

  Drawing in a deep, cleansing breath, Amber beat back her emotions. It was a lifelong habit.

  Then she fought her fears the best way she knew how, with food. Lots of it.

  T HE NEXT NIGHT, at nearly six o’clock, Amber stood in a bra and panties contemplating her closet. She’d been looking at her wardrobe for an embarrassing hour now. “A barbecue,” she muttered.

  What did one wear to such an event?

  Jeans, she decided, with a shrug that would have told anyone watching that she couldn’t care less.

  But she did care, too much. She wanted to look good for a man she hadn’t wholly decided to let herself care for.

  She slipped into the jeans and stared at herself. They were too tight, thanks to her just-given-birth-three-months-ago body, but she didn’t own a larger size.

  Fine, so she wouldn’t wear jeans. With another shrug, she yanked them off. But her khakis had some sort of stain on them, one that could be directly related to Taylor. Her wool trousers were far too dressy.

  Dressy, she could have handled. But this was a family party. Silk and stockings weren’t required.

  And wasn’t that just the problem?

  She tossed her wool trousers over her shoulder to join her other discarded clothing on the floor and stood in front of the mirror. “It’s not the clothes,” she admitted out loud. It was the evening ahead that had her nerves in a riot.

  There.

  She’d admitted it.

  Her bout of anxiety had nothing to do with where she was going, it was who she was going with.

  Dax did this to her, damn him, caused this butterfly dance low in her belly. “And the mess in this room is his fault, too,” she decided, looking around at the cyclone she’d wrought. Nearly everything she owned was in a pile on the floor.

  The doorbell rang.

  She froze. “Oh my God.” Galvanized into action, she threw on a denim skirt and shoved her arms into a white button-up, long-sleeved shirt. Last minute panic time was over. She’d have to make do as she was.

  Her usually perfectly groomed hair was wild. So were her dark eyes. She had no idea where the flush on her cheeks came from, but it made her look…young. Too young.

  And the shirt, good Lord. White had not been the wisest choice, only emphasizing her new bra size.

  The doorbell rang again and she dashed out of her room, past the second bedroom where Taylor lay sleeping and down the hall.

  Her heart was pounding.

  No rush, she told herself, and purposely stopped to draw in a deep, calming breath. She was fine.

  Just fine.

  When she believed it, when she had some semblance of calm, she opened the door.

  And immediately lost it again.

  Dax was leaning against the jamb, looking shockingly desirable. He wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt the exact color of his baby blue eyes.

  Those eyes smiled into hers as he leaned close, and any semblance of calm flew right out the window. His scent assaulted her; clean, woodsy, and all male. Then her breath backed up in her throat because he was so close she almost-almost-tipped toward him.

  She wanted a kiss.

  Startled, she just looked at him, specifically at that mouth that she knew could drive her crazy. No. No kiss, she decided hastily. She couldn’t handle it, not now, not when her control was already long gone.

  “Hey,” he said, moving even closer, and her heart stumbled. His sleepy, heavy-lidded eyes met hers for one long, silent moment.

  Please, was her only, suddenly shocking thought. Kiss me.

  As if he could hear her, his long lashes lowered over his eyes, his mouth brushed her jaw.

  Yes, yes, he was going to do it, thank God, for she wanted that with every fiber of her being. Forget control, forget distance, she wanted his kiss. Now.

  Softly, gently, his lips slid over her cheek, nipped at her throat and then…he straightened away from her. “You’re here. I thought maybe you’d changed your mind.”

  “No.” She had to clear her throat. “I’m ready. I…just need to get Taylor.”

  His grin was more than a little wicked. “You’re happy to see me.”

  She managed a laugh. “Not really.”

  “Another lie.” He tsked. “Santa’s going to take you off his list.” Then he smiled slow and sure. “You wanted me to kiss you.”

  “In your dreams.”

  His laugh was just as wicked as his grin. “Oh, you’re most definitely in my dreams.”

  His eyes were so hot, so sure and knowing, she swallowed hard. “I’ll get Taylor.”

  His gaze dipped down to her mouth, then further still, slowly running over her body in a way that might have, if she’d been a weaker woman, left her legs wobbly.

  She locked her knees just in case.

  “I’ve never seen you in anything other than a power suit,” he said huskily. “I like the change.”

  She resisted, barely, the urge to tug at her snug shirt.

  He reached for her hand. “You know, I’m beginning to think I’m getting the hang of reading your eyes. They’re so expressive they give you away, especially right now.”

  Could he see then, how uncomfortable she was? How self-conscious?

  “You look beautiful, Amber,” he said, his gaze directly on hers.

  Yes, apparently he could.

  “I mean it,” he said silkily, and
for once, she believed him.

  T HE M C C ALL house was packed with smiling, laughing, talking people, not to mention barking dogs and a blaring stereo. Halfway up the walk, Amber faltered. If this had been a business gathering, she would have known exactly what to do and how to act.

  But this wasn’t a work function. This wasn’t a required cocktail party or fund-raiser. It was supposed to be fun.

  She didn’t do fun very well.

  She’d counted on using Taylor as a shield, but Dax had the baby secure in his arms, and she looked so content Amber had little choice but to leave her there.

  Through the opened gate to the backyard the party looked to be in full swing. Couples danced, kids played, people talked. Everywhere.

  Amber just stared at what seemed like a sea of hundreds, all happy and comfortable and having a good time. “Are all these people your family?”

  “And friends.”

  “It’s…” Loud, came to mind, but that seemed rude. Yet she was incapable of coming up with a proper white lie since her stomach was suddenly in her throat. “Different.”

  “I should tell you now, my family is bossy, nosy and opinionated.”

  Gee, there was a surprise. “I’m sure I can handle it.” But she wasn’t sure at all. She had no experience with large families, no experience with families period.

  Dax looked at the hand she’d unconsciously placed on her jittery stomach, and placed his own over hers. “They’re going to love you, Amber. They’re just going to be loud and nosy about it.”

  The very idea of perfect strangers falling in love with her was as ridiculous as…well, as being at this party.

  “They will.” He smiled, that special one he seemed to hold in reserve just for her. “Ready?”

  “Yes. No. Yes. God. I don’t know.” It was the twenty-first century, but having a child out of wedlock didn’t feel like something to be particularly proud of, no matter what the circumstances.

  Would they resent her?

  Think that she’d trapped Dax on purpose?

  Why had she agreed to this?

  “I have no idea what’s running through that head of yours,” Dax said with a low laugh. “But I promise it isn’t going to be half as bad as whatever you’re thinking.”

  “Okay.” She straightened her shoulders resolutely. “Let’s do it.”