- Home
- Samanthya Wyatt
MIKE The Firefighters of Station 8 Page 20
MIKE The Firefighters of Station 8 Read online
Page 20
Wishes and fantasies were not for him. He lived in the real world. A world where his profession presented risk. Women wanted their man safe and be a good provider. A three-piece suit would choke him. He loved what he did and he wouldn’t give it up for any woman.
But he couldn’t resist Cassie. The woman drew him, grabbed him by the gut. Maybe this thing would blow up in his face, but he planned to enjoy her for as long as he could.
Fresh from the shower, Mike lathered his face with shaving cream. Before he picked up his razor, the phone rang. He grabbed a cloth, slung the linen around his neck and tightened the towel dangling around his hips while he strode into his room.
“Mike here.”
“Hello, Mike.”
“Hey, Dad.” Mike dropped onto the rumpled covers of his bed.
“How are you, boy?”
“Doing good. How about you?” Mike lifted one end of the towel from his neck and rubbed the shaving cream off his face.
“Some days are good. And some days are even better.” His dad laughed. An everyday comment since his dad had quit working. Shame his mom hadn’t stuck around to share Dad’s retirement.
“You must have been fishing,” Mike said.
“Fish don’t talk much. Not like your Aunt Lucy. She darn near pecks my ear right off.”
“But she feeds you good, huh?” Aunt Lucy was the best cook in the state. Everything she made was from scratch, no box fare for her family. She thought it her duty to fuss over her little brother, since he didn’t have a woman to look after him.
“Let’s see now,” his dad began. Mike could imagine his dad scratching his head. “This is Thursday. She’ll be bringing spaghetti over tonight. She always makes her homemade sauce on Thursday. When you coming down, boy?”
Same question, same evasive answer. “Soon, Dad.”
He stayed on the phone another ten minutes, solving the world’s problems before telling his dad bye. The old man sounded good. With his aunt’s cuisine, no need to worry about him starving.
Mike scrubbed a hand down his face. His shift didn’t begin for another forty-eight hours. If he didn’t have a date with Cassie, he’d be tempted to leave his brush of whiskers. He shoved from the bed and he padded to the bathroom. Half of his face was covered in lather when the phone rang again. Cursing under his breath, he grabbed the towel and mopped his face again. Calming his irritation, he answered in a reasonable tone. It wouldn’t do to yell when the person on the other end might be Cassie.
“Hello.”
“Mike.”
He ran a frustrated hand through his spiky hair. Not Cassie. Then his alert system kicked in. “What’s up, Shep?”
“There’s no emergency and we’re not on call, so relax.”
“Habit.” Mike rolled the tension from his shoulders and settled back on the bed.
“I just talked to my brother.”
Shep has four brothers. Then Mike remembered their last conversation where Shep had mentioned the possibility of his brother helping Tammy with her ex-husband. “The lawyer?”
Mike glanced at his watch. Hope Cassie wouldn’t mind his dark shadow.
“Yes. I mentioned Tammy’s ex and he’s going to look into it.”
“That’s great.” Tammy was a sweetheart. She didn’t deserve her asshole husband giving her shit.
“Thought you should know, so you can tell her.”
Mike frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Thought you could tell Tammy about Eddie and she could give him a call at his office.”
Mike’s fingers tensed on the phone. Sounds like going around the barn to get to the barn doors. “Why don’t you tell her?”
“Well, I’m not too sure of the reception I might get.” Shep let out a sigh.
“Did something happen? Or is there something you didn’t tell me about when you took her home last week?”
“No.”
Just no? Nothing else.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“You know how women are. They get these things in their head.”
Yeah. He knew. “What things?”
“How’s Cassie?”
“What’s she got to do with it? And don’t change the subject.”.
“Not changing the subject,” Shep drawled. “Just saying, maybe she said something.”
“Who, Cassie? What would she have to say?”
“Whether or not her friend freaked when she found out I’m the one who took her home.”
“You haven’t talked to Tammy?”
“Nope.”
“You’re usually not so dense. Or chicken. Give the woman a call.”
“If she’s embarrassed, she won’t want to talk to me. But if she wants me to call, and I don’t … see what I mean? You never know with a female.”
Laughter erupted in Mike’s chest. “I don’t believe this.”
Shep feared nothing. But he shied away from a conversation with a woman?
“Believe what? That I’m considering her reaction before I put my neck in a noose? Save a lot of trouble if Tammy doesn’t want to see me again.”
“I doubt she feels that way. According to Cassie, Tammy wants you to call her.”
“When did she tell you that?”
“I didn’t tell you?”
“No, you did not.”
“I guess I had other things on my mind.”
“She say anything else?”
“Wait till the guys get a load of this.” This was too good an opportunity to pass up.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your mouth shut.”
“Come on, Cap. All’s fair, you know?”
The guys picked on each other all the time. Shep did his fair share of jokes and teasing, although he did have to keep his crew in line. Seemed only fair they should have a chance at the boss.
“Bad enough to have you poking at me. I don’t need the team sticking their nose where it don’t belong.”
“Why don’t you give the woman a call and put an end to your misery?”
“Misery? No hardship thinking about her. She gets a man distracted.”
Whether or not Shep meant to, he’d just confirmed what Mike had guessed. His friend had the hots for Tammy.
“Distracted, huh? I call it good ole lust.” Hell, Mike knew the feeling. He lusted after Cassie. Once he had a taste, he needed more.
Shep laughed. “Yep. That too. But I need to know which way the wind is blowing.”
“Something did happen, didn’t it?”
“Nope.”
Shep drove Mike crazy with his short answers. The man kept his thoughts to himself, not one to blow his own horn. Getting information out of Shep was like pulling teeth.
“So, what’s the deal?” Mike pried, hoping for more information.
“She’s fun. Plain ole fun. Down to earth. When she laughs, she doesn’t snicker or act coy or none of that snooty, high and mighty stuff. She’s easy to talk with. Hard not to like her.”
“Didn’t mention her looks.”
“Red hair means fire. Paid close attention,” Shep said with certainty. “She has a zest for life.”
“Fire as in passion?”
“Who’s to say we’ll be anything more than friends?”
“You aim to be friends with her?”
“At least that. If my brother takes her case, we have a reason to see each other.”
I’ll be damned.
“You sly dog.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. She’s a mom. With two boys, she has to present a proper image. Tammy is a lady and needs to be treated like one. But she’s still a healthy young woman with needs of her own. Who knows? She may want a fling. Or she may want to get back at that dickhead husband of hers.”
“Ex,” Mike reminded.
“If I have my way, it will be ex-dad. Asshole doesn’t deserve kids if he can’t be faithful to his wife. Or at least civil. Filing for custody and not having the balls to
notify her—he’s asking for a boot up his ass. Eddie’s the one to give it to him.”
“You planning on giving a relationship a chance?”
“Well, now. There’s different levels of involvement in relationships. You know that, Mike. You won’t let a woman get but so close.”
Shep was right. Cassie created a gnawing hunger in him he tried to ignore. When he lay between her thighs, he felt more than just satisfying his need—even if he didn’t want to admit it.
Hell. Who was he kidding? He’d clung to her like his very existence would cease if he let go.
Avoiding that topic, Mike asked Shep, “What will you do?”
“Take it one day at a time, my friend. And ride the ride for as long as it lasts.”
That sounded like good advice.
Chapter 21
Like a teenager waiting for her first kiss, Cassie had difficulty controlling her excitement. It took everything she had not to show her eagerness by bouncing on the truck seat. Mike was taking her to see his house and she couldn’t wait.
“You’re quiet.”
Cassie faced Mike. His attention on his driving, she noticed his steady hands gripping the wheel. “I’m impatient.”
“You don’t show it.”
“When I’m nervous, I chatter. It’s annoying. I’m trying very hard to keep my mouth shut.”
He laughed, that deep rich sound that sent tingles racing down her spine.
“Why are you nervous? It’s just a house.”
“I get to see where you live,” she said, her enthusiasm coming through in her voice. His space. He’d invited her and she’d jumped at the chance.
Mike glanced at her with a serious expression. “It’s nothing special. Just a normal place, like yours. A living room, kitchen, bedrooms.”
“It must be big.”
“Nooo.” He drew out the word. “It’s the house I grew up in. I lived with my dad.”
“Yes, you said you bought it from him. But you built a big garage.” Where he housed his Mustang. Where he’d spent many hours sweating, building, restoring. The more she thought about his personal space, the more enthusiastic she grew. It was almost arousing.
“It’s nothing fancy either. Just a building.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what you’re expecting, Cassie. I hope you won’t be disappointed.”
Disappointed?
She suddenly realized her mistake. In her excitement, she’d blundered and made him think … what?
“Mike. You’ve talked about a garage you built for you Mustang. You mentioned an engine hoist and tools. I just imagined a lot of space for you to work or tinker, or play with your big boy toys. I’m excited because it’s your space. It’s you. Where you spend your time. Where you worked on your beautiful car.”
When his face eased into a grin, the tension in her chest vanished. “Ah. It’s really the car you want to see.”
She answered him with a teasing smile of her own. “Of course.”
He turned at the intersection, taking a road to the right. They’d gone about a mile and he turned into a sub-division, then pulled into a gravel driveway, leading to a small two-story house. She stared at the quaint home as the truck rolled to a stop.
“Here we are. Home sweet home.” Mike shoved the gearshift into park.
The outside was a soft yellow with white shutters and three steps leading up to a porch that was enclosed with wooden rails. The driveway extended around the side of the house, making Cassie wonder if the garage was back there.
“I guess I should take you in the front. The driveway goes around to the back of the house.”
“Works for me.” Breathless with anticipation, Cassie hopped out of the truck. Mike met her and placed his palm on her lower back. Heat surged through every part of her, the way it did every time he touched her. She almost leaned into his warmth, but she wanted to see his house.
He opened the front door and motioned for her to go in first. “This is the living room.”
The walls and furniture were done in greens and browns. In the middle of the room were two recliners and a leather couch. Definitely a man’s taste. Box shades at the windows, instead of curtains, gave it a clean-cut look. A large book shelf, handmade, lined one wall holding more movies than books. And, not surprisingly, the man size TV. She’d guess at least sixty inches. A lamp and coasters were the only items on the end table. Simple, neat and very cozy.
“Through here is the kitchen.”
She stepped into a nice sized kitchen with plenty of space for a dining table and four chairs.
They must have eaten their meals in here. Homey.
“Do you cook?”
“Of course. Mostly at the station. All the guys cook. We take turns. Although, Shep is the best. He and Laredo compete. I’m happy to pull clean up.” He turned. “This way to the bathroom.” He strode toward a doorway that led to a hall circling back to the living room.
Cassie was surprised at the cleanliness of his home. No clutter. Evidently, Mike was a neat freak.
“Tell me. Did you clean up for me or hire someone to clean your house?”
Mike looked offended, but he over-killed pretending to be insulted. He was too darn cute.
“Do you think I can’t clean a house? Growing up, it was just me and Dad. We did it all. Cook, clean—no one else was there to do it for us.”
“You’ve done a magnificent job,” she purred. She knew how to stroke a man’s pride and she promised to make up for it later.
“Bedrooms are upstairs.” He hesitated, watching her reaction.
Was Mike nervous? Naw. If he wanted to go upstairs, he’d just pick her up and carry her. Maybe he was waiting for a signal from her. He could be such a gentleman. No matter how appealing falling into bed seemed right now, she was dying to see his garage.
“Hmm. And outside?” she hinted.
He chuckled. A deep rumble in his chest that made her rethink her decision of going upstairs.
“Come on,” he said, leading her back to the kitchen and a set of glass doors. “I don’t like sliding glass doors, so I put in a hinged patio door for my dad.”
Which basically looked like one French door, only bigger. Stained and polished to a beautiful shine.
Wood porch, wood table that looked better than the quality found in furniture stores—a talented carpenter?
She stepped onto a huge deck the length of the house, stained in a beautiful shade of caramel. Sun glinted off a stainless-steel grill sitting at one corner. An ironwork table and chairs sat to the right. Railing surrounded the entire deck and down three steps to the ground.
“Did you build this?”
“Yep. Used to be a screened in porch. I ripped it out and built this deck. Dad and I sat out here as often as we could. Now, it’s just me.”
Bingo.
“It’s perfect,” she said. He smiled with pride, giving her a fuzzy feeling in her tummy. She pointed to the barbeque. “You like to grill?”
“I do,” he said, then gave a shrug. “Not home enough to do it. The guys go to Shep’s for cookouts.” He pointed to the houses lining his backyard. “The Berry Farm used to be there. I had hoped to save money and one day buy a section of land, but the old woman died and her son, who lives in Texas, sold it to a developer. Now I’m surrounded by a subdivision with neighbors backed right up to my garage.”
Cassie noticed a building at the edge of his driveway, but she’d heard the wistfulness in Mike’s voice. He didn’t like having people on top of him. She imagined him in a country setting, maybe even a farm.
“Okay. I know you’re anxious. Come on.” Mike headed down the steps and toward a building that had to be the garage.
Her feet danced along the grass in anticipation. He threw open the door and she stepped from bright sunshine to a darkened room, slits of light gleaming through high windows. Mike flipped a switch and florescent bulbs flickered to life, illuminating the entire space.
She blinked. Then tried to take ever
ything in at once.
“Told you. It isn’t much.”
Cassie took a quick scan of the interior. Lots of tools and equipment to the left, some type of machines, an engine hoist and metal racks. Two cars were parked right in the middle of the building, each covered with a canvas. A tall wooden work bench, probably built to suit Mike’s height, lined the right wall from the door to the back of the room.
“Are you kidding? This is awesome.” She took a step forward. “I want to see everything. But first, I want to know what’s under those.” She pointed directly to the canvas in front of her.
He rolled one of the covers back. The Mustang. “Is this what’s had you acting like a jumping bean?”
“Wow.” She breathed in awe, just like the first time she’d seen it. Under the ceiling lights, the black paint shined, luring her like a homing beacon. “It looks just as spectacular as the day you took me for a ride.” She couldn’t wait to see what hid under the other cloth. “Do you have another one?”
Mike’s leering grin reminded her of the cliché about the cat that swallowed the canary. Damn the man was handsome. Hot with a capital H. Before he could remove the cloth, she slipped up behind him and slid her hands around his middle. He froze.
Then he slowly turned and wrapped her in his arms for a perfect hug.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was on her mind. The same as him. Entirely too much time had passed without Cassie in his arms. From the moment he stepped into the house, he thought of taking her upstairs to his bedroom. For Christ’s sake, he didn’t want to pounce on her first thing. But now? All bets were off.
“You feel so good. I love being all snuggled up to you.”
He loved the way her voice got all throaty. He slid his hand up the center of her back and welcomed the delicious surge of arousal. “I can’t go five seconds without touching you.”
He leaned back and tilted her face for his kiss. Warm lips pressed against his. He cradled the back of her head, buried his fingers in her hair and kissed her slow and deep. He couldn’t touch her without wanting to possess her. She brought out every urge, every desire to own her. Before his passion took control, he slowed the hunger in his kiss.