Reliving the past…or letting it go?

Lily Ashden is finally ready to have fun again. It’s been a year since she survived a deadly house fire, and she wants to celebrate being alive. Enter Garrett Mateo—gorgeous, funny and extremely capable of arousing her flirtatious side. He would be perfect…if only he wasn’t a firefighter. After what happened to her, she refuses to consider him.

Too bad Garrett is suddenly everywhere, tempting her to look beyond his job. His charm proves irresistible, and Lily lets herself fall…until she learns his devastating secret. Now she must decide if her future happiness depends on giving him another chance….

“What are you doing?”

Lily’s palms flattened against his chest. Garrett felt his skin heat under her touch. She’d been the last woman to touch him, that night in the gazebo, and his body remembered the sensation of her hands now. His fingers crept into her soft, smooth hair.

“Thinking about kissing you.”

“Just thinking about it?” The admission in that statement cost her; he could tell by the way her shoulders stiffened and her neck went tight. So there was heat under the ice. It was foolish to act on this attraction between them, but right now there was no listening to sense.

Garrett cupped the back of her head in his palm. “Should I be thinking about it?” He tipped his head just right, moved in until her sweet breath touched his lips. “Or acting on it?”

Dear Reader,

As a career emergency medical technician of fourteen years, who is also married to a firefighter, I can tell you that I’ve had some scary moments on the job. Day after day of helping people through some of their worst life moments gets pretty stressful, and in a way, can make you very afraid of the world around you. In fact, a couple years ago, I reached my tipping point and started to become unusually anxious and afraid of everyday things, like driving to the grocery store, or catching a horrible disease. I was afraid of letting my children out of my sight, because I was so certain that something bad was going to happen.

This type of fear-related stress is not uncommon for emergency workers and firefighters. Hence, in The Firefighter’s Appeal, our hero, Garrett, is dealing with the very real fear of something bad happening to those he loves.

Luckily, with a bit of rest, relaxation and time away from the job, this problem can be overcome, and for most of us, it is. It’s always good to remember the good things in life to balance out the scary parts. The best cure of all? The love of friends and family to pull you through.

I hope you enjoy The Firefighter’s Appeal.

Elizabeth Otto

The Firefighter’s Appeal

Elizabeth Otto

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Elizabeth Otto grew up in a Wisconsin town the size of a postage stamp where riding your horse to the grocery store and skinny-dipping after school were perfectly acceptable. No surprise that she writes about small communities and country boys. She’s the author of paranormal and hot, emotional, contemporary romance, and has no guilt over frequently making her readers cry. When not writing, she works full-time as an emergency medical technician for a rural ambulance service. Elizabeth lives with her very own country boy and their three children in, shockingly, a small Midwestern town.

To those who run in when everyone else runs out.

To my critique partners and besties who never let me give up and cheer me every step of the way. And to my real life firefighter for the inspiration, and looking good in turnouts.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

EXTRACT

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

“HOW DID YOU talk me into wearing this?” Lily Ashden pulled at the itchy straps that held her coconut bra in place. Combined with the grass skirt she wore over khaki shorts and the plastic lei around her neck, she was about as novelty Hawaiian as a girl could get. The outfit was considerably skimpier than Lily was accustomed to, and she still wasn’t sure how her friend Macy had conned her into it.

Macy snorted. “Please. It matches your tattoo, so stop complaining.” Macy leaned over the table, grabbed Lily’s right hand and dumped bingo chips into it. “Just put your chip on B 14 and stick your coconuts out. How else do you expect to get men to buy us drinks?”

Lily rolled her eyes with a grin and willed away some of the tension in her shoulders. She’d been a little off since stepping foot in the bar a couple of hours ago. The Throwing Aces was the hottest sports bar in the bustling town of Danbury, Kansas, and though she’d never been in there before, Lily had heard it drew a huge crowd on any given evening. Tonight the bar was hosting a luau-themed fire department–sponsored fund-raiser and the place was bursting at the seams with no shortage of good-looking men.

She’d been considering tiptoeing into the dating scene for a while now. What better place than a sports bar with a hot, young crowd? If there was one good thing about the outfit, it was that it drew some attention. She’d seen men glance her way more than once. Still, Lily felt out of her element, but that was to be expected. The past year had been rough. Lily realized that this was a good time to get back to the land of the living. She just hadn’t been ready before now.

The bingo announcer yelled out another number. Macy wiggled excitedly on her stool and placed her chip, her corkscrew cinnamon curls doing a bounce and flop around her face. They’d been besties since grade school, and Lily had fully expected Macy to guilt-trip her into coming along tonight. And sure enough, one sob story—“The fire department is raising money for one of my kindergarten students whose dad was in an accident. You’re my best friend. If you say no, I’ll understand, but...”—had done the trick. That and the batting eyelashes and pouty smile that had earned Macy the Kansas Corn Princess crown five years in a row when they were kids. How could Lily say no to raising money for a worthy cause?

“These coconuts do make my boobs look good.” Lily hoped the lightheartedness spreading inside her would stick. The outfit did go well with her full-sleeve tattoo of orange hibiscus flowers and green vines. She rarely had the opportunity to show off her artwork, and it was kind of nice. In a small way, the outfit and being surrounded by men reminded Lily that she was young and feminine and had a lot of living ahead of her yet. Second chances at life and all that. She’d been given one, and she didn’t intend to waste it anymore.

A couple of men wearing T-shirts with the Danbury Fire Department logo on the back brushed by. Lily glanced at them, her gaze latching on to the DFD logo. Her heart gave a hard flip, the same way it had the other times she’d seen the logo tonight. The men stopped by a table where two blonde women sat. One of the women gestured to the tallest man’s shirt, her smile wide and toothy. He nodded, said a few words, and she responded by giving an appreciative raise of her eyebrows and grabbing his biceps with a squeeze and a giggle.

Hero worship. It wasn’t the first time Lily had seen it in action tonight. Firemen drew women like a handbag sale at Nordstrom, and the women in the room didn’t seem shy about fawning over the proud wearers of those DFD shirts. Even Macy had fallen victim, flirting and giggling her way through the crowd on the way to the bar and back a couple of times. Lily turned away from the foursome. She didn’t get out much, but this was a cozy town. People talked, and they weren’t shy about slinging gossip about the local fire department. Mixed in with gratitude for the work the department did were the hushed rumors of several of the firemen’s playboy ways. All it took was a trip to the grocery store to hear the latest. It was like Danbury’s own live soap opera. Macy had been quick to fill her in when they’d arrived at the bar, sharing the latest gossip about a fireman who’d left his wife of twenty years for one of the teachers at the elementary school.

Heroes with huge egos, it seemed. All this hero worship seemed misplaced and wasted, Lily thought bitterly. She took a hasty drink of water, surprised by that sudden thought, though it made sense. She’d considered how she might feel coming to the bar, knowing the fire department would be there. But she’d reminded herself that this fire department wasn’t the same one who’d attended the fire that had changed her life a year ago. No, this wasn’t the department that had stood by and done nothing as innocent people burned to death.

Oh, God, she wasn’t thinking about that now. She was here to have fun—she was having fun—and the past was going to stay in the past, at least for the night. She’d vowed to be present in her own life, to enjoy life in the moment, and that was what she was going to do.

“He’s looking at you again.” Macy’s low voice puffed in Lily’s ear.

Lily set down the water as her angst faded. “Again?” She dared a quick look at the bar across the room. The lighting was dim, but there was no doubt the bartender who’d been glancing her way all night was stellar in the looks department. At first she’d thought he was just people watching, but his gaze strayed to her too frequently and held too long. Maybe he thought he knew her. Maybe it wasn’t coincidence—maybe. It had been eleven months since her engagement had ended. Lily thought she was ready to dive back in, find a man and have some fun. She hadn’t actually tested that theory yet, so she couldn’t be sure. But the bartender was tempting her to give it a shot.

Lily ran her right hand down the back of her hair. She hadn’t been with anyone since Rob had packed up and walked out. She didn’t miss him that much, but she was still hurt that he’d left the way he had—while she’d been at a therapy appointment and without a word of explanation. Hearing from his family that he’d gone to Mississippi with another woman soon after was a kick in the gut. That and the loss of years she’d spent on a man who had promised he’d loved her, was committed, said he wanted a family. The uncertainty over why he’d walked out still burned; it bugged her that she’d never had closure. But she was doing fine on her own. Although it might be nice to have someone around now and then. This loneliness had been nagging her more and more lately. It was definitely time for a change.

Lily risked a sideways glance. Even from this distance and in the dim light, it was obvious Mr. Hot Bartender was built, with muscles easily visible beneath his shirt. His biceps turned into bulging hills when he grabbed a glass and brought it close to his body. His hair looked dark blond under the lights, and, if she had to guess, that rugged face probably sported blue eyes. No wonder there’d been a lineup of women at his end of the bar. He made looking flattered an art form, flashing a killer smile and dipping his head when a woman leaned in close or touched his arm. You’d need a thick coat of armor to push your way through that crowd.

Lily hitched a brow as she watched him—looks like Thor and probably throws a mean cocktail—and wished she could see his face more clearly. An ember of interest started to smolder. Her nights might get a whole lot less lonely if she had a man like that around. As if she’d have the nerve to approach him. Cheesy pickup lines began to play in her head. Did they teach you to mix drinks in Adonis school, or are you naturally talented? She laughed at herself and turned back to the bingo game. Yeah, she was a little rusty.

The band started up again, taking over from the crappy music on the jukebox, and burst out a song about a man who loved his red Solo Cup. Macy and half the people in the bar, who were really just rednecks stuffed into Hawaiian outfits and fire department shirts, jumped from their seats and gave a cheer. Lily remained in her seat, watching the crowd. Truthfully, it was nice to get out of the house and forget about the pile of city permits and construction bids she had waiting on her desk. Her social life consisted of arguing with her business partner and father, Doug, during the day, and talking to her cat, Adam, at night.

Pretty pathetic for a twenty-seven-year-old.

Macy sat back down. She made eyes at Lily, cleared her throat and nodded toward the bar. The hot bartender was giving her another glance. He didn’t look away when she looked at him—seemed to almost be daring her with his eyes. She made out his crooked smile—sexy and sassy—aimed right at her, before he turned to talk to a customer.

“He’s pretty good-looking, huh?” Macy smiled knowingly and ran a hand down the back of Lily’s hair.

“Not bad.” Lily shrugged.

“Man, your hair rocks. It’s so smooth and black.” Macy continued to pet her.

Lily blew a stream of air over her fringe bangs. She’d just had them cut long enough to touch the tips of her eyelashes, and the blue-black color had been too awesome to resist. It went well with the crimson lip gloss she’d slicked on earlier. Nothing went with bitching black hair like red lipstick.

“If you keep petting me, he’s going to think we’re a couple.” Her eyes slid to the bar. Anxiety and sweet anticipation tickled her insides.

Macy smacked her lips. “If he’s like most men, and I’d bet money he is, he wouldn’t mind one bit.” She nudged Lily with her shoulder. “You’ve been eyeballing him since you got here.”

The bingo announcer called out another number. Lily’s face went hot. She sighed and picked at her fingernail. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to put Macy off or drum up the courage to catch the bartender’s eyes. “Kind of hard not to.”

Macy leaned on her elbows over the small round table until her nose touched the tip of Lily’s. “And?”

Lily placed one finger on the tip of Macy’s nose and pushed gently until her friend backed up. “And what?” Macy’s eyebrows rose excitedly. Lily shook her head. “And, no. I’m not going over there. Too much, too soon.”

The protest sounded lame even to her own ears. Was there a store where she could buy extra nerves to maybe—maybe—walk up to him? Lily knew her retro pinup style and tattoos gave most people the impression that she was a badass, but underneath the ink and lipstick, she was reserved. Cool, even, mostly to her disadvantage.

The stress she’d been under these past months didn’t help; in fact, they’d kept her from finding any real joy in life, or any reason to actively participate in it. No wonder she felt antsy and ready for something fun and amazing to happen. No wonder she also wanted to run out of the bar and head straight home. Part of her suddenly wished she and Macy were in another bar, one that wasn’t filled with reminders of why she’d been under so much stress and grief in the first place.

The announcer’s voice boomed through the mic. “B 12.”

Lily grabbed a chip; Macy smirked. “Look at him again. How can you say too much, too soon?”

He was facing the bar, giving Lily a perfect view of all six-plus feet of him looking fine in a dark T-shirt with Throwing Aces in white lettering across the front. The way the fabric stretched just a bit over his tight middle and settled into the dips and rise of his pecs whenever he turned or twisted was a gift to every woman in the room. Excitement shot low in her belly. Lily frowned at her body’s sudden reaction. That hadn’t happened in a while.

“Of all the women here tonight, he’s been eye locked on you, and you’re overthinking again. Remember what you said? Be present.” Macy gave a lazy eye roll and slumped her shoulders in dramatic exasperation. Her curls made a Shirley Temple bounce as she leaned back on her stool. “I have three words for you, Lily. Crazy. Cat. Lady. That’s what you’re turning into.”

Lily’s lips parted. She tried a little lightness, hoping to tame Macy’s enthusiasm before it turned into an atom bomb, as usual. “Adam is not a cat. He’s people.”

Macy managed to raise a brow and scowl at the same time. “Your Adam Levine fangirling is not a suitable replacement for a real man, Lily. Crazy cat ladies usually don’t have a man around, which is why they name their cats after celebrity men they’ll never have.”

Lily laughed. “I have one cat!”

Macy shrugged one petite shoulder and thrust out her lower lip as she fiddled with her bingo board. “That’s how it starts, Lily. That’s how it starts.”

Lily was about to throw in a snarky retort when someone bumped into her shoulder. She looked over as a tall man in a DFD T-shirt made a quick apology as he walked away. Lily shuddered. The man maneuvered through the crowd until he was out of sight. Firemen. The last time Lily had been surrounded by this many firemen, she’d been lying on the ground with soot burning her lungs and throat.

“Hey, you missed the number.” Macy leaned over and slid a chip onto Lily’s board, but Lily wasn’t paying attention. She eyed another fireman. Same shirt. Same memory. Anxiety clenched her gut with a painful grip. Dang, this wasn’t supposed to happen. There was no reason for this to be happening. She’d gone to therapy, and even though she refused to go into detail about that night, Lily had made progress. Just the fact that she’d finally left her house to go somewhere other than work or the grocery store was huge.

Macy’s voice dipped low. “I’m sorry, Lil. I shouldn’t have asked you to come to this tonight. I just thought...maybe some of the wind had run out of that storm, you know?”

Lily’s stomach went into free fall. This was the last thing she wanted to talk about. She was doing well—was reining in her anxiety like a champ, thank you.

“I mean,” Macy continued just audibly above the racket, “this fire department wasn’t even the one who...you know...that night.”

Lily knew that, but it didn’t take the bitterness away. It didn’t matter what fire department had been present the night her sister had burned to death and Lily had been nearly killed. Firefighters were firefighters—they all represented the crew that failed her so spectacularly. Combined with how unabashedly members of the Danbury crew flaunted their womanizing, it was hard for her to see firemen in the positive light everyone else seemed to. Knowing Macy, her friend would leave the moment Lily asked her to. But Macy was having a good time, and Lily didn’t want to ruin that. Macy was the only person who stood by her through thick and thin, and Lily owed her. Besides, this was silly. She could do this. They were men...just men. A guy didn’t have to be a fireman to be a womanizer—Rob had proved that. There had to be at least a few good ones around this town.

Lily smiled, and her lips parted to give a reassuring reply when something hit Macy in the back of the head. A roar of excited laughter went through the room. Lily’s gaze snapped back to the bar, saw the barrel of a T-shirt cannon pointed her way. All three bartenders had them and, instead of shirts, they were shooting small packages around the room. People started to jump up to catch the prizes, making mad dashes across the floor and over tables to grab handfuls. Lily frowned. What the hell was in those packages?

The hot bartender aimed one her way, a big smile crossing his face as a packet hit her in the side of the head before plopping onto the bingo board. Lily cupped her head in astonishment, her eyes falling to the item that had hit her. Candy.

Macy snorted. “Damn, Lily. That was either a challenge or an invitation. Probably both, you lucky bitch.”

Lily palmed the package, then shrieked when another pinged painlessly off the top of her head. She looked; the bartender was staring at her, the I-dare-you smile too much to resist. The crowd of women by the bar had thinned, giving her an easy path. Could she do it? Even if she made a fool of herself—which was pretty much a given—it wasn’t like she’d be back at this bar. She’d never see him again.

Lily pushed away from the table. Before the fire, she’d just started becoming more social and outgoing. An introvert by nature, she found it terrifying and often exhausting to plop herself in social situations, but she’d been trying. Macy was always a ray of light and energy, everything Lily wasn’t, and Lily had craved some of that for herself.

So she’d been forcing herself go to friends’ houses for dinner parties or to the movies by herself. Instead of rushing through shopping trips as quickly as possible, she’d made herself slow down and browse—take some time to enjoy her surroundings. And it had been working until the fire. Afterward, she’d holed up in her own little world again, blocking out everyone but her father, brother and Macy.

She really missed those little peeks of the extrovert she’d experienced before. Risk or not, she owed it to herself to try to find her backbone again. The bartender turned away from the crowd, giving Lily a boost in the nerves department. He wouldn’t see her walk up to him, making it a little easier to approach—or make a detour and go back to the table if she chickened out. She stood before she could talk herself out of it.

“I’ll play your board while you’re—whatever. Okay,” Macy shouted as Lily walked away. Lily smoothed her hair as she pushed through the crowd. Three steps in, she had to fight the urge to run back to her secluded table in the corner. Lifting her chin, Lily made it to the bar, but a row of people waiting for drinks separated her from the cocky smile she wanted to see up close. She moved down until she found an opening and squeezed up to the bar. The bartenders bustled around. The air cannons had been put away in exchange for bottles of booze.

“Can I help you?” A tall, lean man with glossy dark hair grabbed a glass from the overhead rack. His eyes flashed with good humor and a dimple appeared in his left cheek when he smiled. She glanced around him, latching on to the man she’d come to see.

“Ah,” the bartender said with an amused smile. “Hey, September! You have company.”

September? Lily mulled that over, observing the decor behind the bar in an attempt to settle her nerves. Old license plates, sports memorabilia and beer signs were artfully arranged in between chalkboards full of menu items and fantasy football scores. A glass display case sitting on a shelf caught her attention. It took her a moment to realize a firefighting helmet sat inside. She cocked her head, noticing how the front of the helmet looked normal but the back was a lump of what looked like melted plastic. Must be a prop of some kind, because fire helmets weren’t supposed to melt, right? The men were covered head to toe in gear that could withstand flame and heat—gear that allowed them inside the chaos to rescue the people trapped inside.

Lily clenched her jaw. Damn. It.

Suddenly, cold liquid spilled over the curve of her lower back as someone rammed into her. Lily yelped and spun to see a very drunk man stumbling away with an empty plastic cup. Her arms went wide, chills racing down her spine and curving around her hip bones.

“Here,” a deep voice called to her. Lily turned around and glimpsed a fluffy white towel sliding across the mahogany bar top toward her. Her eyes tracked up from a broad chest to the face she’d wanted to see up close. Narrow blue eyes, framed by eyelashes so dark they made the blue brilliant. They were the kind of eyes that would glow seductively in a black-and-white photo, grab you by the ovaries and never let go. Square jaw, round chin...lips full enough to be soft, with a firm outline that promised they could also bruise.

Lily took the towel with a shaking hand. He was definitely as good-looking as she’d suspected. Her heart pumped. Smiling was probably a good idea. Lily gave a little grin—at least she hoped that was what it looked like because her cheeks were tight and hot.

“Thanks,” she managed to say, wiping the liquid off her back. Unsure what to say next, Lily dropped her gaze to the bingo board lying on the bar. Talking would probably be good, too. “Four corners—you won...” When was the last time her face had been this hot? Her scalp tingled; her gut tightened. Bingo talk was good, right, when her brain was otherwise at a loss?

The bartender chuckled softly, a deep sound that was somehow soothing. “Yeah.” He nodded to the board. “What do you think we should win?” We? His blue eyes were twinkling, and the way he leaned one elbow on the bar, his chest turned toward her, made it clear that he was flirting.

Lily propped her right arm on the bar. “Well, considering I had to wear this getup, a trip somewhere warm and exotic would be nice.” She let out a tiny relieved breath. This talking thing wasn’t so hard.

He set both forearms on the bar and gave her a quirky, self-confident smile that threatened to set her panties on fire. “Considering I was born and raised in Hawaii, I can’t argue with that.” He winked and backed off, leaving her mouth dry and her chest breathless. Before she could think of an appropriate response, he cocked his head.

“Beer?” His mouth opened to let the word out...closed again—the tip of his tongue peeking out to wet the lower lip. Lily’s heart rate jacked up. He leaned closer. The stubble over his jaw and down the sexy column of his throat made her itch to touch it. She swallowed hard, realized he’d spoken.

“No. No, I don’t drink.” She leaned back an extra inch from the bar. “Water, please.” He was already reaching under the bar and then produced a cold water bottle, cracked the top and set the bottle in front of her. Lily hesitated before taking it, pretty sure she was going to have to dump it over her head to cool herself down. Irritated by how flustered she was, Lily took a drink. The water was shocking to her parched throat. The bartender took a swig from a beer bottle and set it down, then extended a hand. Lily hesitated before shaking it.

“Garrett.”

“Lily.”

He gave a brief nod and turned to fill a glass for a waiting patron. A man in a fire department T-shirt slipped behind the bar, looked at Lily and put a finger to his lips as if to silence her. He opened a small refrigerator behind Garrett and took out two beers. Garrett spun around just as the man pulled the beers to his chest like a football and scurried out, dancing through the crowd.

Garrett cupped his hands around his mouth. “That calls for revenge, Mikey!” He turned back to her, his grin scrunching the outside corners of his eyes. His smile wrenched the breath out of her like a cold wind. The tension in her body let go. He was really too good-looking to be out in public.

A waft of perfume rippled by Lily as two blondes with pink-painted smiles shimmied up to the bar, eyes zoned in on Garrett. He gave them a nod, waved another bartender over to assist them as he leaned against the bar in front of Lily again. A flood of warmth pooled in her chest and spread down her arms. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a man’s full attention on her and it was terrifying...and kind of wonderful.

She leaned against the bar. “So why did you hit me in the head?”

His eyebrows raised and his smug expression deepened. “Did I? I’m sorry.”

Her eyes fell to the thick, strong lines of his neck, and she could feel her nipples perk up inside the bra. Lily resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest. Thank goodness the bra was hard, so he couldn’t see how her body was reacting. She huffed with a grin. “No, you’re not.”

Garrett leaned a little closer toward her. “Okay, Lily. Truth?”

One corner of her mouth tugged up. “Yeah, truth.”

Garrett reached out and touched her shoulder. Before she could object, his fingers wrapped around her upper arm and drew her closer over the bar. Shivers of pleasure dotted her skin, followed by hot streaks when his fingers ran down the length of her tattoo.

“I wanted to see your ink. Since I can’t leave here, I figured I’d get you to come to me.”

She shrugged off the lightness that admission gave her. The sensation of his warm fingers trailing along the big white-and-orange flowers on her shoulder and down to her wrist caused a fog machine to open up in her head. Slowly, his index finger outlined the arch and curve of the hunter-green leaves and lighter kelly-green vines that swirled throughout the artwork.

Lily drank in his appreciative expression as she cataloged the handsome lines of his round chin and the firm, masculine outline of his soft, full lips. She found herself leaning into the press of his hand, just as his fingers trailed away. Little wonder she was tingling from head to toe—it was the first time she’d been touched by a man in almost a year.

And her ex had nothing on Garrett.

“Beautiful work.”

She took a drink, immediately missing the feel of his hand on her, but hating how weak her legs were just then. With one touch, he’d thrown her into a fun house with a crooked floor.

“Thank you. Do you have any?”

A shout came from the other end of the bar; Garrett grabbed a bottle from the fridge behind him and tossed it to someone Lily couldn’t see. He turned back to her with a shake of his head. “Nah. I, uh...well, it’s probably a strike to my manhood to admit, but I have a thing about needles.”

She snickered despite herself. “You’re what? Six-two—”

“Six one and a half, thank you.” He took a swig from his beer around a chuckle. “I know, I know. Someone like me, scared of needles. It’s sacrilegious.” His voice was deep with a resonance that shivered through every nerve in her body. “Since we’re being truthful here, you should also know that I’m...” He looked around as if to see if anyone would overhear before locking his gaze on hers. “I’m also deathly afraid of spiders.”

She feigned horror. “No!”

He wagged his eyebrows, a move that was equally boyish and sexy, drawing yet another chuckle from her. Lily’s own brows came together with the realization that she was completely at ease. Sounds from the bar rushed in her ears—foreign and sudden, as if she’d blocked out the noise. Before she could ponder that, his fingers traced along her collarbone to the tie around her neck holding the coconut bra in place.

“As a native Hawaiian, it’s my sworn responsibility to tell you that I approve of your coconuts.” The pads of his fingers were rough, as if they’d known countless hours of manual labor and rowdy play. Lily’s skin heated under the gentle scrape of his touch along her neck, her knees threatening to give out altogether. Lily gripped the bar; Garrett’s hand sank beneath the shade of her hair, following the string to where the ends were tied. It would only take one quick pull—just one—and he’d have the strings free.

Her chest squeezed at the intimate, familiar way he touched her. She should have been indignant, not turned on and mesmerized by the hard and soft pressure of his fingers retreating along the path they’d come. Garrett’s hand fell away, but his gaze felt like a caress over her cheek. His voice was low, with a tinge of husky amusement. “So what flavors did you get?”

Her middle quivered as if she were about to perform improv in front of all these strangers. “Flavors?”

Garrett reached under the bar for a large plastic container. “The candy.” He produced a handful of packets, throwing them down on the bar. “Root beer. Orange dreamsicle. Berry.” He flipped one over. “Black licorice.” His smile fell at the same time she made a disgusted face.

She shuddered, a move that seemed to shake off most of the effect of his unexpected—if not welcome—touch. “Throw that away.” She laughed.

“Agreed.” Garrett tossed it in a trash can behind him. “So?” His eyes narrowed a bit, his head cocking slightly as if he was studying her. She reached between the faux grass of her skirt to the pocket of the khaki shorts she wore underneath and grabbed the packet.

“Oh, this? Orange dreamsicle.” Her brain started a little happy dance. It felt good to flirt with him, and, amazingly, her tongue-brain connection was working like a charm at the moment.

Garrett’s eyes tracked her movements. “Hmm, do you like that flavor?”

Lily shrugged, drawn in by the heat of his gaze. His pecs bunched close together as he shifted. She had to look; trying not to look at him was like trying to stop the earth’s rotation. “Yes.”

She’d flirted before, of course. But never with quite this much sexual undertone. Mostly, she had no idea how to respond, though her inner wildcat was trying her damnedest to play this game. It was fun and made her feel feminine and aware, for the first time in too long, that she was young and single.

Garrett slid a hand over to hers, his fingers briefly grazing over her knuckles. “In that case, you know where to come if you want more.”

Lily was halfway to taking a drink and nearly spilled the bottle at the grainy sound of his words. Tongue-brain connection lost.

Garrett moved back to help someone while Lily took a deep breath. The clink of bottles and glasses surrounded her; the low tone of Garrett’s voice washed over her as he spoke to a customer. He was quick to mix up a couple of drinks, flashing just the right amount of smile and charm as he interacted with a woman next to her. Lily did a double take to her left. A line of women had formed next to her, all glancing hopefully—excitedly—at Garrett. He’d ignored one woman in order to talk to Lily, but this line was too long and estrogen fueled to be defeated.

This was probably her cue that the fun was over. And it had been fun, and freeing and exciting and just the tiptoe back into a male-filled world she’d been hoping for. She turned to leave.

“Don’t go.”

Lily glanced back to see him holding up one finger in her direction, bidding her to wait as he set the last drink on the counter.

“You’re busy,” she said. It was true, but she didn’t really want to go. Still, being in the way wasn’t going to do either of them much good. Garrett’s attention was a balm for her ego, no doubt. Especially with the tension that had crept in earlier to eat up her fun.

He sauntered back over, pulled a bar towel from his shoulder and looped it around her upper arm, holding her steady. The sincerity in his eyes was way more than she was prepared for. Garrett gave the towel a gentle tug, making her body lean against the bar and bringing his mouth inches from her ear.

“Not too busy for you.”

CHAPTER TWO

GARRETT HAD BEEN in center of a raging house fire yesterday, and yet the adrenaline rush he’d felt fighting that flame didn’t compare a lick to the one Lily was giving him.

He’d seen her the minute she’d swayed into his bar a couple of hours ago; he’d had a hell of a time keeping his eyes off her so he’d quit trying. In a sea of stick-thin, cookie-cutter blondes, this tattooed beauty was a midnight dream come to life. She was tall and curvy, and the coconut bra she wore did little to hide the round sides of her breasts. The tie around her back was fashioned into a bow that accentuated smooth muscles and supple skin. A faux-grass skirt hung low on the curves of her hips—full hips that embraced a smooth, soft belly. He loved that she didn’t try to cover up her curves. The colorful tattoo sleeve, stick-straight, long black hair and red lipstick she wore only kicked his interest into overdrive.

He hadn’t been this attracted to a woman in a long time. Usually the women he flirted with, and ultimately took home, offered the bare minimum of emotional connection. He was all right with that, and, though he was always a gentleman, he tended to seek out women who were single-mindedly interested in the same thing he was: sex without commitment.

He’d been in a bit of a dry spell lately, though. The work it took to flirt and woo his way through the bar scene to find a suitable woman was getting old. Flat. Boring. He kept telling himself it was okay to step back from the dating scene. But as the weeks of lonely nights and an empty bed went by, he wasn’t sure he knew what he was holding out for anymore.

Lily had just dumped an ocean all over his dry spell. She wasn’t his normal type, but she had fun written all over her. Looking at the crystal lights shimmering over Lily’s hair and the lushness of her body in that Hawaiian outfit made his libido adamantly agree. But long-term? Hell, no. Marriage led to kids, a house, a dog and all that jazz. All the things that could go up in flames in the blink of an eye. No way. He’d settle for a dry spell rather than let his heart take in too much, only to lose everything.

He’d been down that road too many times now, watching people he cared about suffer tragedy. Bad things happened to good people, wasn’t that the saying? Being a fireman, he saw it all the time, even among his own men. Divorce, deaths, affairs, accidents—all the things that jacked up the cost of love. No one was immune when fate decided to play a dark game.

Lily’s eyelashes fluttered, and her scarlet-red lips parted slightly. Garrett recognized her sensuality but had a pretty good inkling that she was completely unaware of how siren-like she was—and that she probably intimidated the hell out of the male population in general. She gave off a type of Brigitte Bardot pinup allure with a hard Jillian Michaels edge. Yet, when he’d made her laugh, Lily had looked genuinely surprised—she craved the attention, though outwardly, she tried not to show it.

Women like that—the ones who wanted you to notice them but didn’t always want you to know—meant he’d had to work harder to get what he wanted. And he’d never been one to back down from a challenge.

Before he could speak, a shout burst through the room. “Bingo!” A petite woman with bouncy cinnamon curls stood on a stool, shaking her plastic coconut-covered chest with her fists in the air. A collective cheer roared through the room. The woman spotted Lily, pointed at her and damn near bounced right off her stool.

“It’s her board. She won!”

Lily put her hands out quizzically. The woman cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “You won the grand prize!”

Well, wasn’t that just his luck? Garrett ran a hand over his belly, pleased with this turn of events. He recognized Pete Ambrose, sporting a fire department T-shirt and a smile, as he approached Lily and patted her on the shoulder. Lily spun so her back was to him, and though Garrett couldn’t see her expression, he could see that every muscle in her back tensed.

“Congratulations.” Pete’s deep baritone was loud in the sudden hush of the room. “What’s your name?”

Lily didn’t reply immediately. Garrett saw Pete’s brows drop a little.

“Lily,” she said flatly.

Garrett filled a couple of drink orders, still watching Lily from the corner of his eye. From somewhere in the back of the room, a female voice shouted, “Yeah, Lily!”

Pete gave a toothy smile as a camera flashed. “The grand prize includes movie tickets and dinner reservations at Chalet de Blume—and your escort? Did you see the fire department calendar that went out this year? You’ll be going with Mr. September.” Pete winked and gestured to Garrett.

Lily turned and looked blankly at the bar. If she realized Pete was talking about Garrett, she didn’t acknowledge it in any way. Instead, her forehead wrinkled as if she was remembering something or thinking way too hard. Garrett stopped filling glasses as he tried to read Lily’s reaction. Most women would be bouncing up and down at the news. Not that he was conceited or anything, but Garrett knew he had a certain effect on women. His pose for the calendar hadn’t hurt.

Lily shook her head, cutting Pete off and causing the already quiet crowd to hush even more.

“A date with a fireman?” Her voice was uncertain, her expression dropping into a scowl. She almost looked disgusted. Pete nodded, looking just as confused as Garrett felt.

“No, thank you.” Lily pushed away from the bar and squeezed her body between Pete and the crowd. Almost instantly, the curly-haired woman was at her side, grabbing Lily’s hand. Their heads leaned low together as they walked to their table. Prickles nagged at the back of Garrett’s neck. Her sudden mood change seemed to have left a tangible chill in the air.

Something had set Lily off, and though he really shouldn’t waste time worrying about what it was, he did.

Was it possible that she didn’t know he was Mr. September? It wasn’t a secret—anyone who saw the calendar and came to the bar knew it. But she’d said she wasn’t a drinker, so maybe she hadn’t seen it, hadn’t put the pieces together.

He wasn’t ashamed of his sexy no-shirt-pose-against-the-fire-truck picture—hell, it helped sell thousands of calendars across the county. The fire department needed that money, and he was glad to do his part. He was the assistant chief of the department, and, as such, had been roped into being part of the grand prize if the winner was a woman. Take her to dinner and a movie for a good cause. Lily, apparently, hadn’t liked that idea. It felt like a flat-out rejection, though a part of him said there was more to it than that. After all, she’d seemed to like him well enough at the bar.

Rejection wasn’t something Garrett took lying down. He liked the way she moved, the way she looked, and, after talking to her, he didn’t want to give up without at least finding out why she was rejecting the prize. When she slung a purse over her shoulder and hugged her friend, Garrett knew he had to make a decision. He spotted his best friend, Mikey, out in the crowd, cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled his name.

“Fill in for me. You’ve done it before,” Garrett said when Mikey came around. Before his friend could protest, Garrett set a bar towel on Mikey’s shoulder. “You owe me for grand theft Budweiser.”

Mikey ran a hand through his too-long brown hair. “Dammit.”

There were perks to owning the bar, like leaving whenever he wanted to chase a beautiful woman. Because he was pretty sure how this night would end if he could rekindle the spark he and Lily had had earlier—with some hot vertical dancing in his bed. Though he’d settle for a kiss, because those cherry-red lips had been taunting him all night. Lily was the first woman in a long time to make him want to put his dry spell out to pasture, and she’d been interested, too. He’d read that much like an open book.

Garrett pushed through the crowd as Lily disappeared out the side door. The street was deserted, one lone light pole flickering overhead. She’d just reached the sidewalk along the side of the bar when he caught up with her.

“Lily!”

She spun, surprise marking her face. Humidity settled over Garrett’s skin with wet hands as a crack of heat lightning flashed in the air. He looked up into a murky night sky and realized for the first time that it was sprinkling.

Lily didn’t speak as he approached; her hand clutched the strap of a small purse.

“You left before I could get your number.” He started to relax, then immediately cursed himself. Where had that come from? He never asked for numbers because he didn’t have to; women always beat him to it. The bucket under the bar filled with slips of paper and business cards with women’s names and numbers on them was proof of that.

The corners of her eyes crinkled as the wariness on her face deepened. “You—want my number?”

Garrett chuckled with a quick glance to the ground. “Thought I made that pretty obvious.”

Lily ran a finger through her hair before continuing on. Garrett fell into step beside her, hands in his front pockets. She gave him a sideways look, and another crack of lightning gave him a clear view of the shy smile on her lips.

They passed by the empty lot directly behind the Throwing Aces, the for-sale sign mocking him as they walked. He’d been after that lot for months, but the seller wouldn’t agree to his terms. He brushed off the thought as a waft of Lily’s perfume tickled his nose. They reached the line of trees that separated the empty lot from a competing bar. A small gazebo sat at the edge of the empty lot near the sidewalk and butted up against the trees.

Without overthinking it, Garrett gently grabbed Lily’s arm and pulled her onto the grass with him. Music from the hidden bar drifted out into the night, highlighting Lily’s light gasp as he tugged her close.

She came willingly, giving him the courage to just go with it. If she’d tensed at all, he would have backed away, but as Lily pressed against him, Garrett reveled in the fact that she was right where she wanted to be. He wanted to ask what had happened in the bar, but any questions he had flew away.

Garrett tried to hold back the deep groan that welled in his throat as he felt her soft body against him. Her perfume saturated the air and drew him in. His right arm looped around the luscious curve of her back and settled just above the rise of her ass. Maybe her chest was going faster—maybe it was his—but when he held her tighter, their breathing synchronized and their chests rose and fell together.

Yeah, he’d missed this.

Lily’s arm curved around his upper arm, her palm flattening against his shoulder blade. Her chin tipped up, her lips parted in a mix of surprise and something deeper—something that looked a hell of a lot like restrained want.

Garrett’s throat went dry. He could kiss her. Grab her chin and pull her lips to his. The music trickled into his consciousness, reawaking his plan to steal a bit more of her time. He wanted it—needed it—and he’d hold as many minutes as she’d give him. But he didn’t want to scare her off by being too forward. This was silly, but he was going with it. Anything to prolong their moments together.

“Dance with me, Lily.” She chuckled softly as he began to move her in a slow circle to the sound of the filtered music. Her hips swayed just slightly, her footsteps a little hesitant. He began a slow caress along her lower back, his fingers gently raking back and forth over her warm, silky skin. “It’s not fair, you know.”

Goose bumps rose on her skin. “What’s not fair?”

Garrett dipped her over his arm, reveling in the sound of her surprised laugh. He brought her back up so fast, her hair whipped across his chest. “You know my weaknesses and I know nothing about yours.”

“I call that ammunition.”

His turn to laugh. If he wasn’t mistaken, her cheeks flamed in a blush. It might have been the lighting from the streetlight, but he doubted it.

“Nice.” He gave Lily a spin. “No holding out now.” Garrett pulled her tight against him, his lips close to her ear. “Tell me one thing.”

A hum came from deep in her throat with a resonance that made his heart flutter. “I, ah...have a cabinet full of marshmallows?”

“Marshmallows?” Garrett spun her again to keep from kissing her hard and full the way he wanted. The ground was springy and soft under his feet. The scent of the damp earth and impending rain cast seductive notes in the air. Her palm met his chest, fingers clutching his shirt. “Stress food.”

He nodded in understanding. “Peanut butter and jelly. On toast. With an extra piece of bread in the middle. Another weakness.”

Lily made a noncommittal sound, her eyes locked on his mouth, fingers tightening with just enough pressure that her short nails dug harmlessly into his skin through the fabric of his shirt.

“Seems I’ve developed one more, though...” Garrett smoothed hair from her face, taking time to trace along the beautiful curve of her cheekbone, down alongside her ear to her neck. She shivered as he moved slowly to the rise of her collarbone. Oh, yeah, she was feeling him. She was into this.

“Black hair. Bright red lips. Pretty tattoos.”

“Oh,” she whispered, tilting her head for him to lean down and take her mouth. Garrett stepped closer to her, his hand reaching for her chin, when the sky suddenly let loose, dumping a torrent of rain straight down.

Lily’s eyes went wide. Garrett shrugged off the shock of the rain, cupped Lily’s face in his palms and pulled her fully against him. He half expected her to protest or struggle against the rain, but she sank into him, her right hand grabbing his wrist.

Her lips parted just enough to leave no doubt.

Lightning cracked in a brilliant line behind them, making them both jump. Cursing the weather, Garrett grabbed Lily’s hand and pulled her to the gazebo. He should have been praising the rain, truth be told, because it was giving him an opportunity to stop this now, take a step back. He had more fire in his blood than he could ever remember having before—and that was saying something, considering the beautiful women he saw at the bar nearly every night.

He raked his fingers through his bangs, spinning to sit on the single bench in the middle of the gazebo. Lily was laughing, and the sound cut off in a heady gasp when he pulled her to sit across his lap.

It didn’t matter if her kisses were random and meaningless. It didn’t matter that she probably wouldn’t wake up in his bed in the morning, despite his willingness to give it a go. He wanted her anyway, and no amount of rain was going to cool that burn. Even if it was just a taste.

Her bottom was seated firmly against his thighs. Water ran in silvery streaks down her jet-black hair, dotting his jeans and soaking through the fabric in cool bursts. Garrett cupped her lower back, reveled in the shiver that coursed through her. She was sweet under that tough exterior and reserved demeanor. Maybe that was what drew him in—the mixture of all the things she was. He stared at her for several beats, only breaking his gaze to blink raindrops away from his lashes. His arms tightened around her—damn, she felt good—every muscle in his chest and neck tightening.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he growled. Tantalizing him, thwarting him, Lily leaned closer and put her lips next to his jaw. His senses flared to life.

“I thought you wanted my phone number,” she replied, her fingers kneading the nape of his neck. Garrett trembled. The rain beat down harder. Lily’s lips pressed into the sensitive skin just beneath his ear. Garrett clenched his eyes, trying to stomp down an insistent burning flare of desire.

“I do.”

She pulled back to look at him. Rivulets ran over her high cheekbones, a stray drop curving over her lower lip. Lily licked it off with a slow slide of her tongue. “Then you’ll have to work for it.”

* * *

LILY HAD NO idea where this brazen streak had come from, but she couldn’t bring herself to resist it. She hadn’t planned this by any stretch of the imagination when she’d first approached Garrett. Okay, maybe she’d had a stray thought or ten about what it would be like to take him to bed, but it had been fantasy. A nice thought—one that wouldn’t come to fruition.

But now it was a possibility, and even as Lily considered the “should she or shouldn’t she” debate, her body was pulling for should. Definitely should. It had been a long time, and Garrett made it so easy to give in. Plus it might help erase the anxiety that had burst open with learning she’d won that stupid prize. A date with a fireman? Nothing like coming face-to-face with the horror of her past. No, firemen were off-limits. And she wanted to forget....

Garrett was sexy and funny. For the first time in a long time, she felt empowered with an attractive man. He was interested. Despite her initial reluctance, she was interested, too. More than. Especially now that she was out of the firemen-infested bar.

Still, her lack of normal restraint was so foreign, it left her unsure of what to do next. She’d take a few hot kisses. And if that was all that happened, she’d rejoice in it. And if there was the possibility for more... She’d never had a one-night stand, never hooked up with a man she didn’t intend to have a relationship with. That wasn’t her style.

Just go with it. Lily took a shaky breath and lightly pressed her lips to Garrett’s neck. Rough stubble met her touch just below his jaw. His skin was cool from the rain, but hot when she pressed a little harder. His face tilted up just a bit, granting her access, his hands cupping her rib cage and pulling her closer. The cold plastic grass of her skirt became a tangled mess as she straddled his thighs.

Heart pounding, Lily clamped his earlobe between her teeth and gave two soft nibbles. The sudden rise of his chest and stall of his breath made her heart soar. She ran her fingertips down his neck, paused at the collar of his shirt where the fabric was warm from his body and wet from the rain. The hardness of his back muscles made her fingers tingle. Garrett let out a slow breath. It flamed Lily’s boldness. She pulled away to look up at him, trailed her hand from his back, over the round perfection of his shoulder, up the smooth length of his neck to cup his jaw.

Garrett’s hand went to her hair, his mouth slanting across hers in a swoop that left her dizzy. His firm lips turned soft as he encouraged her mouth with a dance of open kisses and soft, closed caresses. A tug at the back of her scalp flittered into pleasurable little zings as she realized he’d fisted a handful of her hair. Lily gasped at the thrill, becoming aware for the first time that she was clinging to him.

Clinging. And she didn’t want to let go. Garrett groaned deeply. She wanted to pull him closer until he wrapped himself around her, claiming her and flooding her with his heat. Desire wasn’t letting her talk herself out of this, and Lily was glad about that. She wanted him. He was hot and delicious, and she was taking this chance. She deserved it.

She slid forward until her center was aligned with the hard ridge of his erection. She nearly moaned at the long, thick feel of him. Garrett jerked, gripping her hips as he shifted and pressed himself up against her. His lips trailed over the bare skin of her shoulder.

She needed a lighthouse for the fog in her head. The feel of his hardness right there—where she wanted him the most—was sweet in its newness and achingly raw in its demand. So much time had passed since she’d last been held. Too many times she figured she’d never have those things again.

His palms traced her ribs, dipped into the curve of her waist and over the flare of her hips. The plastic fringe of her skirt rustled with his touch. He spoke low in her ear; his gravelly voice sent heat straight between her thighs.

“You feel so good.” He grasped her chin and turned her head for a deep, aching kiss. Her mind was so busy absorbing his scent, his feel, his touch, that formulating a response was an unnecessary distraction. Garrett cupped the sides of her breasts, his warm palms pressing against soft flesh and the hard plastic of novelty coconuts. She’d never wanted to be rid of that bra as much as she did just then.

“This makes up for you rejecting me.” Garrett’s voice was teasing and husky at the same time. His hands ran along her sides, making it clear they were playing with a fire neither of them would escape if this kept up.

Lily’s middle fluttered with delicious anticipation over the thought of having Garrett inside her. Here on the bench, against the gazebo wall, hell, on the floor—it didn’t matter. She was so caught up in her body, she didn’t immediately process what he’d said.

“I rejected you?”

He nipped her neck. By the easy way he drew pleasure out of her, Lily had no doubt Garrett would turn her into a pile of mush—a sated pile of mush—in no time. Yet as he embraced her, held her tenderly as though there was no reason to rush, a sense of familiarity and ease settled over her. Being comfortable in his arms was almost as pleasurable as the intimacy.

“I’m Mr. September.”

Garrett nuzzled his nose against her jaw. Lily froze. What? Fate wouldn’t be such a bitch to her, right? Her one time letting loose with a guy like this.... He couldn’t be... A knot of unease tightened in her gut, the same as it had each time she’d seen the DFD shirts earlier.

She leaned back. “Are you—are you a firefighter?”

He trailed a finger over her cheek, eyes narrowed and concerned. “Ah, yeah. Assistant chief for DFD.”

The gazebo seemed to turn inside out, the space getting smaller just as her chest seemed to shrink, too. Couldn’t breathe... She could barely draw a breath, her muscles paralyzed but begging to run. With great effort, Lily blindly slid off him, tears threatening to spill over in a vicious flood. He was just another fireman, one who could have very well been standing around, doing nothing, on the worst night of her life....

This wasn’t fair. She wasn’t supposed to be reacting this way. She was better now.... Dammit, she was better!

“Son of a bitch!” The words tumbled in her head and fell out of her mouth. She turned and faltered as she moved to the exit. Garrett was behind her in a flash, his hand wrapping gently around her upper arm.

Lily went cold inside. She wanted to pull away from him, but her stunned nerves were slow to react. “I thought you were just the hot bartender.” She put a shaky hand to her forehead. The one time she gave in to impulse, and this was her punishment. Firefighters were off-limits. There was no way she’d knowingly get involved with one.

He carefully turned her to face him, one hand out, palm up. Lily’s muscles were stiff; her body resisted his touch. “I own the bar with my uncle Brad, and I’m a firefighter on the department, too. What’s going on?”

There wasn’t any way to explain what was going on because she didn’t fully understand it herself. This bitterness, this...disgust and anger had all come on so quickly, bringing memories with it. Memories of flame, heat, screaming and death. She was unprepared for the emotions, and she found herself equally unprepared for the blend of emotions she could see on Garrett’s face—the confusion alone stabbed her with guilt. She was being irrational, but she couldn’t help it.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

He spread his hands. “Tell you what? That I’m on the fire department?”

She pulled away from him and ran a hand through her bangs. “I never would have... You and I would never have—”

“Whoa—Lily, talk to me.”

She could still feel his body heat on her skin like a brand, but he didn’t make another attempt to touch her.

Her lower lip trembled as the dumbstruck sensation was slow to go away.

“Firemen are off-limits.”

Each second she stared at him was punctuated by the beat of pain inside her heart and the memory of her sister’s face. The firemen were supposed to save Katja that night. But they’d stood by and watched as the building burned to the ground.

On the edge of ugly crying, Lily turned and rushed across the lawn to the street where her car was parked. One quick glance behind was enough to pick at her with guilt under the shock and anger.

Garrett hadn’t moved—he was just standing there, watching her leave.

* * *

WELL, EITHER THAT was karma for some past transgression or he’d seriously misread the entire situation. Despite his confusion over what had just happened, Garrett was concerned at how genuinely upset Lily was. He moved away from the gazebo as she hurried to cross the street in the rain, positioning himself so he had a clear view of her slipping into her SUV.

As she pulled away from the curb and disappeared down the street, Garrett was pretty sure this had been the strangest encounter he’d had with a woman in a long time. Women loved firefighters, at least in his experience. Lily was the first one he’d met who didn’t. Firemen were off-limits? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

He brushed his soaked bangs away from his eyes. Whatever. He’d rushed into thinking their flirtation was going to turn into something more. With all the other responsibilities he had hanging over his head right now, adding a complicated one-night stand was the last thing he needed. Luckily, Lily’s true feelings had come out before they’d gone any further.

The ground squished beneath his feet as he crossed to the sidewalk and hurried back to the bar. If anything, he should be glad he’d avoided potential disaster tonight. But the stab of disappointment in his gut said otherwise, and that was almost as confusing as Lily’s hot-and-cold attitude.

She was as sexy as sin; he couldn’t deny that. Any man would have felt disappointed to lose out on a woman that hot. That was all this hollow sensation was about.

Garrett pushed open the door, immediately relishing the sounds of music and laughter. Nothing like a packed bar to take his mind off, well, everything. His brain was full of so much stuff lately, any little distraction was welcome. He licked his lips, tasting rain and the lingering sweetness of Lily’s kiss.

Oh, well, game over. Back to reality. He pushed through the crowd, trying to ward off the multitude of comments and gibes about his soaked clothes and dripping hair. A couple of women took the liberty of running their fingers over his wet shirt, sending clear reminders that female companionship could be found. If he was still interested, which he wasn’t.

Rejection was a bitter pill to swallow, wasn’t it? Garrett smirked to himself as he slipped behind the bar and moved to the door that led to the back rooms. He had an extra set of clothes in his office, thankfully. He’d just turned the handle when Mikey called his name. Garrett spun to see his best friend sidling up to the bar with a grim expression.

“Where you been? I tried calling you.” Concern was thick in Mikey’s voice, jangling Garrett’s nerves.

“I...walked a lady out. My cell’s in the office. Why?”

Mikey’s face fell into soft sympathy. “Sorry, man, but your uncle Brad’s been rushed to the hospital.”

CHAPTER THREE

“NO WAY IN HELL, Doug.” Lily turned sharply, prepared for a stare down with her father. Irritation and lack of caffeine had her every last nerve on fire. The message on her answering machine from her ex, Rob, yesterday still made her edgy. Almost a year with no word and he had the nerve to call to see if he could stop by when he came to town at the end of the month. She preferred that he stay in Mississippi with his new girlfriend, because, frankly, Lily had nothing to say.

More unsettling than the unexpected phone call were the nightmares. Every night since the fund-raiser, she’d had the same unsettling dream. Always about Katja and the fire, and Lily, seeing herself lying on the grass as the building burned, reaching for her sister but not being able to get her.

Sitting just to the side within the dream was a fire engine with glaring, revolving lights. Every night, she turned toward the lights and the truck would disappear, prompting her to wake up with a heavy sense of confusion. It was confounding and unsettling, especially since she had stopped having nightmares about the fire a few months ago.

And now her father wanted her to do this before she’d gotten her feelings under control.

Lily cocked her head and crossed her arms, mirroring her father’s posture. “Can’t someone else go?” Like father, like daughter.

Doug Ashden scowled and stuck his chin out. “Everyone else is busy. I know the appointment time is a little unconventional, but it’s a bar...and you’re young. You like the nightlife, don’t ya?”

Lily enjoyed her job as a general contractor for Ashden Construction and Design. Building and designing were in her blood, and as much as she liked the physical labor of creating a structure, she liked generating ideas more. She didn’t just meet with clients to consult on their projects, she also drafted out plans and brought them to life. Lily had a pile of drafts to work on, but being second-in-command meant that when the other employees were gone, she picked up the slack.

In this case, it wasn’t the meeting that had her stomach in knots—it was the bar.

“Stay and have a drink or dance or something.” Doug waved an impatient hand.

Or something. Right. Because the last time she’d engaged in “or something” at that bar, she’d had her tongue down the throat of a man she would rather not see again. Lily shifted her weight from one foot to the other as her body tingled at the memory.

She clenched her jaw hard enough to grind her molars. She needed to forget that night had ever happened. Not only was it out of character for her to get so physical with a man she didn’t know, but she’d done it with a goddamned firefighter.

Doug made an impatient sound when she didn’t respond quickly enough for his liking. “You look like you could use a drink.”

His gruff tone made it clear she was supposed to obey without question, though he knew her well enough to know that she liked to buck him. She was one of the few people, besides her brother, Lincoln, who could talk back to Doug Ashden and make it out alive.

And there’d be talking back, all right. Being the general contractor for Ashden Construction and Design might mean that Lily went where the jobs were, but not this time. She glanced at the new-client form on the edge of her father’s desk. Throwing Aces was printed across the top. God.

“Are you giving me permission to drink on the job?” Her quip was meant to ground her thoughts into work and not on Garrett the Bartender’s very talented mouth. The hurt and surprise in his expression when she’d recoiled from him was a doozy, though. She’d almost felt guilty about hurting his feelings. A man like Garrett, well, rejection probably wasn’t something he’d come across too often. She’d stomped on his ego a little, but he’d get over it. He’d probably replaced her with some hot blonde the minute he’d stepped foot back inside the bar. Nothing to feel guilty about.

Doug smirked. “It’s a bar. I expect it. In moderation, of course.”

“Of course.” Lily sighed and pushed the new-client form around the desk with one finger. “So Nick can’t go because...?”

“He’s busy.”

“And Raul?”

Doug sniffed and gave her a hard stare. “Out of town. Why are you hedging about this damn meeting? Seriously, Lily. You meet with the client. You talk to him about what he wants. You leave.”

Her father’s harsh tone could melt weaker hearts into a puddle of submission, but she was used to it—had learned from his no-nonsense personality over the years. They were certainly cut from the same cloth, and if she wasn’t careful, he’d see right through her. No way did she need her father wandering in on the hot-fireman replay flickering in the back of her mind. Or the regret she was struggling with.

“You go, Doug.” Lily narrowed her eyes. She and her dad had always had a tenuous relationship, and the habit of calling him by his first name she’d developed when she was a rebellious teen had stuck.

It was an easy way to remember that her dad had never really given her the same affection he had shown her sister, Katja.

Despite being night-and-day different, she and Katja had been as close as sisters could be. Katja was athletic and bubbly to Lily’s artsy moodiness, but somehow they’d balanced each other out.

Lily always suspected that Doug identified more with the choices Katja had made—working hard in school, staying away from boys, going to a good college. While Lily had never considered her own choices bad, they paled in comparison. Mediocre grades, changing boyfriends like sweaters, decorating her body with ink and getting a two-year degree instead of a four-year like Katja. Even in their adult years, Doug had leaned toward her sister more, like a plant to the sun, leaving Lily in the shadows.

Doug threw his hands in the air. “No, you’re going! And we’re done with this conversation. 8:00 p.m., tomorrow night. End of story.”

Lily snatched the paper off the desk, tempted to crumple it in her hand. She couldn’t keep arguing with her father without bringing up questions she wasn’t willing to answer.

Bitterness clawed at her throat. Two years ago, she’d had the chance to move to Nashville to work with her twin brother, Lincoln, but she’d stayed in Kansas with the plan to open a small architectural showroom with Katja. She wished now that she’d gone. Linc had been her one salvation this past year. His quiet contemplative nature had offered her a refuge when the tension with Doug was too much to bear.

Lily blew her bangs out of her eyes. She wouldn’t be thinking about missed chances and regret if the firefighters had done their job in the first place. She rubbed her temple with a thumb as that little nugget worked its way in.

“Look, Lily, we need this contract. Brad Mateo is talking major expansion to the bar here. A complete overhaul of the current building, plus landscaping, an outdoor volleyball pit, et cetera. I need—we need—you to secure this contract.” His eyes softened for a moment, allowing Lily to catch a glimpse of worry. “You know how slow things have been. This contract would carry us through clear to next spring.”

She couldn’t deny that business had taken a dive in the past few years, thanks to a tough economy. The summer months had brought them enough work to break even and make payroll, but not much to pad the bottom line. She’d already been lowering bids and cutting into profit margins to try to entice signed contracts, but to no avail. The work was simply harder to get than it used to be.

Their situation wasn’t unique, although apparently people still liked to drink and party their sorrows away if the Throwing Aces could afford to expand.

“I understand—” she began, but Doug cut her off with a shake of his head.

“I don’t think you do. If we don’t get this contract, I’ll be laying off for the winter.”

Lily frowned. Her dad was a builder by nature and trade. He’d rather be on the job, swinging a nail gun and barking orders to the crew, than doing the talking, and sometimes the careful wooing, it took to secure contracts.

That was why Lily was the face of Ashden Construction. She knew how to woo. But sometimes they just couldn’t beat another company’s bid, and then it didn’t matter what she did. Some contracts just couldn’t be won, as was the case more than ever lately with so much competition between companies to secure jobs.

“Doug...” Her voice was tight, thanks to the lump in her throat. The men who worked for them all had families, obligations. They’d never had to lay anyone off before, and Lily had no intention of doing so now.

“Bolstom backed out. Postponed the project for three years in hopes the economy rebounds more.” Doug’s eyes narrowed, making the effect of his words that much stronger.

Lily let out a slow breath. Grant Bolstom was a land developer who had worked closely with Ashden Construction for almost ten years. He’d brought them in to build town houses in new development areas both here and in Nashville, where they each had secondary offices. They’d had a multimillion-dollar, four-year contract in the works—work that would have carried Ashden Construction for years.

“Jesus, Doug. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Doug uncrossed his arms and put his hands on his hips. “It was my deal, my business. Look, Brad Mateo is expecting you. Take good care of him. Give him what he wants.”

Lily crossed the office as her dad rattled off a list of things he wanted her to do. She stopped by the peaked windows that overlooked the Greenway golf course. When they’d scouted buildings to convert into an office, the windows of this old brick house had sold it. The foundation needed work and the masonry cried out for some TLC, but it was nothing her father couldn’t handle when he finally got some time to tackle it. Carpenters’ houses were always falling down, or something like that.

“Okay,” Lily interjected at what she hoped was the right time. In twenty-seven years, she’d gotten good at blocking him out without him realizing it.

The heavy silence made Lily realize her father had stopped talking. She turned to him, shocked to see an almost sweet expression of...what was that? Affection? Whatever it was, it seemed foreign on his stone-cut face and it disappeared like frosty breath in the sun.

“You secure this contract for me, Lil, and then get yourself to Nashville. It’s time you took a break.”

Her spine tingled. She wanted to run her brother’s architectural-salvage showroom. The designer inside her craved it. All those rescued vintage and antique building materials and decorative fixtures just waiting to find new homes called to her.

Since Katja’s death, every time the subject of her leaving to work with Lincoln had come up, Doug had pointed out all the reasons she shouldn’t go. That plus guilt kept her firmly grounded in Kansas. She couldn’t leave Doug alone. With Katja gone now, he’d have no one. No family around him. They might not get along that well, but Lily was all he had.

“You’re serious?” Her chest tightened. Doug acted as though he didn’t care one way or the other, but the string of excuses he repeatedly blathered on about lent some suspicion that he cared a little. Even if he didn’t show it.

“Secure the contract and you’ll have my blessing.” He knew that was what she wanted—needed. His approval, his love, his support and acceptance. All things he rarely gave. “I need you to do this for us, Lily.”

He raked one big hand through his close-cropped silver hair and eyed her steadily. Lily’s heartbeat seemed to pause, hovering like a leaf on a strong breeze. Then it started again as the leaf began to float down, down...down. He always needed her when it benefited him. This time, it was more than just them. Their employees’ security was on the line.

Katja’s image came to mind—expressive chocolate-brown eyes, full lips curved into an enigmatic smile. He’d loved Katja all the time, just because. But he loved Lily when he needed something.

She was a grown woman, for crying out loud. She shouldn’t need her father’s affection, but she did. The desire for his acceptance had grown even stronger since Katja’s death. She needed some sign, some reason to believe that their father-daughter bond was still important.

Her palms grew damp, her fingers chilly, as panic took root. Lily drew in a breath, shook back her hair and grappled with the tremors rocking her. It would pass. It always did. She tried to focus on the possibility of finally going to Nashville—it offered the change she desperately wanted after all—and she felt the panic start to recede. No sense in relaxing too much just yet, though. Dealing with the Throwing Aces was a huge obstacle she had to manage before she could start packing her bags.

“Text me when you’re done at the bar. I don’t care how late it is, in case you decide to hang out or whatever.” Doug gathered up her case containing a company laptop and held it out to her without meeting her eye. She took it, some of the steel she relied on so much back in her veins. Returning to her office, Lily set the laptop down and sat at her desk to try to focus on work.

She’d already done whatever and his name was Garrett. Never. Again. Too bad he owned the bar, too, because he’d probably be around at some point during the planning phase. That was okay. She’d play nice and do what was required to seal the deal. Beyond that, Garrett would mean nothing to her. Because Garrett wasn’t just a hot man. He was like the best possible vintage in a wineglass rimmed in poison.

* * *

GARRETT TRIED TO stop bouncing his left leg as he sat and waited, but it didn’t last long. He hated that habit, but he could never get it to stop. As a kid, he was always moving, even in his sleep. He’d frequently ended up on the floor in a mess of blankets from rolling around too much. Now he recognized the leg movement as an outlet for a different kind of energy—the restless kind. The Frasier Realty building was quiet with just the barest of sounds coming from the back room. He was grateful for the quiet. It made a soothing background for the chaos in his mind.

He’d been extra restless since his uncle Brad had gone into the hospital last week with a fever and flu-like symptoms. Since Brad was in remission from bone cancer, any sign of illness had the potential to go south in a hurry.

Seeing him back in a hospital bed gave Garrett a hefty dose of anxiety. Last year they’d almost lost him to the cancer, but Brad had managed to pull through. He’d come out a much weaker man, though he tried to pretend otherwise. After being in remission just a couple of months, Brad had returned to work at the bar a few hours at a time. He’d been adamant that Garrett get a crew together to get started on their plans to expand. It was something they’d been talking about for a long time, but with Brad’s questionable health, it had become more of a priority.

When Garrett had visited the hospital that morning, Brad had grabbed his wrist and pulled him close to the bed.

“I’m a time bomb, Garrett. Promise you’ll get started on the bar as fast as possible.” His uncle’s dull eyes were pleading.

Garrett understood. They’d decided to upgrade the bar and expand it to increase the overall value. The bar sat in a prime location and made a profit every year. Selling it wouldn’t be a problem, and with the upgrades, the increased price they could get would pay out Garrett’s initial investment and sustain Brad’s family for a long time. They thought of it as extra life insurance for Brad’s girls—enough to put them through college, buy them each a good car. All the things a father worried about, especially if he didn’t think he’d be around to watch them grow.

Garrett rubbed a hand over his forehead. He hated watching his uncle’s family go through this. Brad had been a pillar for Garrett when his father was killed after a roof collapsed during a structure fire. Determined to be there for Garrett’s family, Brad had hung up his own fireman’s hat and quit the department.

The firefighting gene ran strong, bonding them in a way other people couldn’t understand. Brad had been proud to see Garrett and his brothers, Cash and Sawyer, go into firefighting careers like their grandfather, father and uncle before them. Following in his father’s footsteps wasn’t a decision Garrett took lightly, especially when the pain of how his father died was always a raw and festering memory. But being a fireman was a part of who he was—a big enough piece that if it were to be taken away, he’d be pretty hollow afterward.

Thirteen when his father had died, Garrett had clung to Brad for strength and advice and support. Now it was time to repay the favor, and he was happy to do so. Seeing Brad in the hospital, once again on the brink of something life-threatening, and the devastated worry on his family’s faces only reinforced Garrett’s decision to stay single. He didn’t want anyone sitting at his bedside in such agony. And although it was selfish, he didn’t want to feel that way about someone else. The fewer people he had to worry about, the more he could protect himself.

“Mr. Mateo?” The petite brunette receptionist came back to her desk, a warm smile on her face. “Ms. Frasier will see you now.” She gestured with a hand to the hallway.

Garrett covered a grimace by clearing his throat, then stood and smoothed the front of his jeans. Not that it mattered how he looked. He could have walked in wearing an Armani suit, but given their history, Sylvia Frasier’s reaction to him would probably be the same: frigid.

He followed the receptionist through the tastefully decorated building to an office in the back. He’d been here several times before and knew the layout by heart. He was equally familiar with Sylvia, and he easily recognized her perfume from the doorway. It was the same perfume she’d always worn and it still made his gut churn. He walked inside with a nod to the receptionist.

“Garrett. How nice to see you.” Sylvia’s Southern drawl was the kind that mixed pleasantries with insult. In her late sixties, Sylvia Frasier was the epitome of a wealthy business woman. Well dressed, perfect office. Impressive posture and manners despite the hint of poison that always laced her tone when she spoke to him. She gestured for him to sit, the burgundy polish on her long oval fingernails glinting in the overhead lights.

“Thank you for seeing me so late in the day.” Garrett sat and tapped the envelope in his hand with a finger.

Her eyes fell to it, a small smile crossing her mouth. She knew why he was there. There was only one reason he would be, and that was to talk about the available plot of land behind the Throwing Aces that he’d been trying to buy from her for months. He needed that plot to complete the bar expansion, including a rear deck and possibly a couple of volleyball courts. They planned to make the property available for parties, vendor fairs and other gatherings, too. Garrett had made Sylvia several offers, but she’d turned them all down. Even though the plot was listed for public sale, she hadn’t sold it to anyone else, either, giving him some hope.

He didn’t have any more time, and if she wasn’t going to sell to him, he needed to figure out a plan B.

“What can I do for you?” Sylvia crossed her hands on top of her desk.

“I haven’t heard back from you on my last offer, which leads me to believe you haven’t accepted it. But I’d like to know either way.”

He took out a copy of the offer from the envelope and slid it across her desk. Their eyes met briefly before she took the paper and glanced at it. Sylvia’s perfectly glossed lips twitched just a bit before she gave him that polite yet cold stare he wondered if she reserved for him alone.

“Why are you pursuing this so tenaciously, Garrett?”

He gave a tight smile and glanced down for a second. There was no doubt she’d probably heard about Brad’s illness in gossip around town, but he didn’t feel that his uncle’s personal business was any of hers. Given the intense dislike she’d felt for him since he’d spent a night with her granddaughter two years ago, Garrett didn’t feel that confiding about Brad would change anything.

“That’s personal. You either decide to sell it or you don’t.” He folded his hands across his middle. Getting mixed up with Sylvia’s granddaughter, Holly, wasn’t the most prudent thing he’d ever done, but to his credit, he hadn’t known who Holly was when he’d taken her home. To him, she was a pretty, willing woman who was just as interested in a few hours of mindless fun as he’d been.

Except that Holly Frasier had her sights set on more than that. And when he’d told her there would never be more than that one night, she had gone straight to her grandmother. It wasn’t good for any business owner in this town to be on the wrong side of the biggest realty company in the tristate area. When it came to buying commercial property or selling your business, chances were you were going to deal with Frasier Realty. Sylvia was good at what she did, and she was someone you wanted on your side.

“Let’s say my decision may well be determined on your intentions for the property.” She blinked once, her tight smile tipping up more. “The good thing about being the landowner instead of just the broker is that I get to decide where it goes. Considering I haven’t yet shot down your offer, I’d suggest you indulge me a little.”

Garrett rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. He took a slow breath through his nose. She hadn’t shot him down, true. This was as close as he’d gotten to an acceptance since he’d started offering on the plot when it first came up for sale back in March.

He thought of the desperation on Kim’s face when she held Brad’s hand. Did it really matter if he told Sylvia? Getting that lot would benefit his family, and for that, Garrett accepted that Brad wouldn’t mind if his personal business was aired out a little. He licked his lips, mentally forced his leg to stop bouncing when he suddenly realized it was. Before he could speak, Sylvia made a sigh-like sound, her tight smile turning soft.

“Look, I know what’s going on with your uncle, and I feel for his family. I’ve always assumed you wanted the land to expand the bar, but considering I’ve other offers on the property from a couple of other parties, I don’t think I’m out of line in asking what you intend to do with it.”

“Who told you?” Not that it mattered. Gossip always rubbed him wrong, because for the most part, the information was always skewed and wrong.

“My hairdresser.” Of course. Eight thousand people in this town, but all the juicy bits still came through the coffee shop, hardware store or hair salon. Garrett spread his hands, resolved.

“Okay, yes, Brad’s been struggling with cancer. He’s actually back in the hospital right now. We want to expand the bar, put a deck out back, maybe another seating area. Potentially a small amphitheater that the local bands and theater groups can use. Until we get a contractor out there to show us what’s possible, we won’t know for sure, but that’s the general idea.”

“Bring me a drafted plan.” Any sign of sympathy was gone, replaced by pure professionalism.

“Excuse me?”

“I’d like to see a draft of your plans for the property. This lot is one of the last open, wood-lined areas in town. As much as I support commercial development, it would be a shame to see such a pretty natural area ruined by bad development. I’ve owned that land for years and sat on it for this very reason.”

He couldn’t argue with that. The one-acre plot was parklike, and it wasn’t uncommon for people to use it as such. The gazebo Sylvia had erected to make the plot even more enticing to buyers was a magnet for people leaving his bar to spend a few stolen moments.

Just as he and Lily had. His heart kicked up a notch at the thought. Garrett cleared his throat to refocus.

“Understood. We have a contractor coming tonight, actually, so I’ll get something to you as soon as I can.” He started to rise but paused. “When do you need it?”

Sylvia tapped one nail on the desk. “A week or less would be grand. I’d like to make a decision as soon as possible.”

No pressure or anything. After months of jerking him around, she was finally cutting the chase short. Fine. He knew Brad had scheduled a meeting with a commercial contractor for tonight, intending to conduct the meeting himself, but Garrett didn’t know any details. He hoped like hell that whoever the contractor was, they offered what he needed. Otherwise, starting tomorrow he wouldn’t rest until he found someone who did. He didn’t want this opportunity to slip by, just like he couldn’t play around with time. Both were too precious to waste.

CHAPTER FOUR

LILY SAT IN her SUV in the Throwing Aces parking lot for a good twenty minutes, tapping the steering wheel with a fingernail. It was a balmy Saturday evening and more people wandered in the front door than out, making her groan at how packed the place was likely to be. Her nerves refused to settle; the hardness at the corners of her mouth refused to soften. This was a job, a job their company desperately needed. If she blew it with a bad attitude and prickly demeanor, people would be laid off because of her.

No pressure, right? Lily finally managed to step out of the vehicle and smooth her skirt. She stared at the building for another minute before heading inside.

The bar was filled end to end. A basketball game played across several screens above the bar, prompting a cacophony of cheers, hollers and groans from the crowd. It took Lily a lifetime to squeeze through to get to the bar. The constant looking over her shoulder didn’t speed the process up at all. With any luck, Garrett would be off playing with fire.

“Cute top. Even better ink.” A female bartender she recognized from her previous visit gave her a nod while grabbing a glass from a rack above her head. Lily glanced down. She’d chosen the navy blue shirt with little white polka dots and a feminine ruffled hem, gray pencil skirt and neutral pumps carefully. It was about the most professional outfit she owned, and if Garrett happened to show up, she would need all the professional she could get.

“Thanks. Say, I have an appointment with Brad Mateo. Lily Ashden.”

The bartender motioned to a door behind the end of the bar. “Hmm, Brad wasn’t able to make it in today. But come on back to the office and I’ll get someone for you.” Lily followed the blonde through the back, past the kitchen and down a dim, narrow hall to a door on the left. She couldn’t help but notice how dated the back of the bar was—shabby even—with chipped and peeling faux-wood paneling, missing ceiling tiles and patchy carpet. They’d clearly overhauled the public areas of the establishment, but the rest of it was in terrible need of some TLC.

The woman opened the door and gestured Lily inside. The office looked more like a prison interrogation room than an inviting place to conduct business. The cracked yellow linoleum floor set the groundwork for boring beige wallpaper and a harsh metal desk that looked as though it belonged in a football locker room office. The rickety mismatched chairs were questionable, save for the plush leather office chair behind the desk. Lily gave the bartender a tight smile and sat carefully in the sturdiest-looking chair when the other woman left the room.

Lily’s spine felt like a rod, and her shoulder muscles were tight. To distract herself, she pulled out her laptop and set it on the desk. Despite the gloom, a full-bodied scent permeated the room. Musky, with heavy notes of spice and outside air. This was definitely a man’s office. She couldn’t imagine a woman working here, or the office wouldn’t be in this devil-may-care condition.

Time ticked away as sounds from the bar leeched into the small space. Lily was just about to get up to make her way back to the bartender to see if she’d been forgotten when steps in the hallway made her swivel in her chair to the door. A grunt followed the sound of paused footsteps, then a short sound of something being dragged.

“Seriously, Roan, I’m really tired of you passing out on the sidewalk. Next time, I’m just going to leave you there.”

Another grunt and something banged against the wall to Lily’s left.

“Lie down and sleep it off. I’ll take you home in a bit.” A door shut, followed by a mumble. “When the hell did I become a freaking babysitter?”

The voice became crystal clear as it came closer. She stood, not quite sure what was going on.

* * *

LILY’S STOMACH BOTTOMED out as a familiar form stepped into the doorway. Her eyes drank in the sight while her brain rallied against it.

White T-shirt stretched across broad, well-defined pecs. Beaten-to-death jeans hugging long legs for dear life. Work boots. Shaggy blond bangs falling in his eyes, deep golden skin covering the roping muscles of his forearms.

The only thing that would make Garrett more all-American was if his skin tasted like apple pie. But it didn’t. It tasted better. Like sex with a side of brown sugar and buttered rum. She’d half risen from her chair but didn’t realize it until her thighs started to ache from the odd angle.

“Lily.” The brilliant blue of his eyes bore into her. Garrett tugged at the leather gloves on his hands, methodically working each long finger free. “What are you doing here?”

“I have an appointment with...” Her voice trailed away as the tongue-brain connection faltered. “With Brad, but I hear he’s unavailable.” Crap, that came out as a squeak. Lily’s cheeks heated. This wasn’t the reaction she wanted to have. What happened to cool and professional? Out the window, apparently.

He palmed the gloves in one hand. “Wait...you’re the carpenter?” He leaned against the door frame as he tucked the gloves in his back pocket. Despite her dumbstruck brain, he didn’t seem at all ruffled to see her. Surprised, maybe, but not ruffled.

“General contractor,” she corrected. “From Ashden Construction and Design.” Lily smoothed her palms over her shirt and tipped her chin up. The move always helped when she needed a composure boost. “Did you...did you just drag something down the hall?”

He cracked an amused smile. “Ah, you heard that? I’m sorry—I didn’t know anyone was in here. You’re, uh, early. Anyway, yes—someone, actually. My buddy Roan had a little too much to drink, and I figured the couch in the employee room was a better mattress than the sidewalk, so...”

“Right.” She nodded as if it made perfect sense.

Next time, I’m going to just leave you there.

She tried to shake off the image his words brought to mind. Someone lying facedown on the sidewalk, passed out and vulnerable. Someone needing help but being left behind. She knew she should say something, but her mouth was suddenly dry.

“I didn’t peg you for a contractor.” He raked a hand through his unruly bangs, drawing her eyes to every delicious movement. If she hadn’t braced her hand on the desk, she might have leaned forward in time with his arm as it moved up and along the curve of his head as he swept his bangs away.

Instead, she turned to the laptop. Looking at Garrett brought back all the sour thoughts she’d had about Katja the last time she was in this bar. He reminded her... That was a problem. He reminded her of firemen and death and feelings she was working hard to get past.

“Well, I guess we’re both full of surprises, then.” Her chest was already wrenching the breath right out of her. Doug’s threat of layoffs gave her pause. This was a game—that was all. One she needed to win. If she looked at it that way—as a challenge she had to face and conquer—it was easier. She liked challenges, had faced and overcome her fair share, that was for damn sure. Lily gathered her composure and faced Garrett again, ignoring the flip of her heart.

“There’s an insult in there somewhere.” He spread his hands wide. “I feel like I should apologize for something, but I don’t know what.”

“You don’t need to apologize for anything.” Except for not wearing a damn DFD shirt like every other firefighter had been that night so she could have avoided him.

His face took on a boyish quality that made it seem he was teasing her. “Hmm, I’m getting the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ vibe.”

“Does it matter? Look, Garrett, I’m here in a professional capacity, not a personal one.”

“I’d say the other night was a bit personal.” Two lazy strides brought him in front of her. Lily stiffened, though her insides had turned to mush. His eyes fell to her lips. “Talk to me, Lily.”

“There’s...nothing to talk about. The other night was...interesting, but I don’t want more. Frankly, I’m surprised that you’re acting as if you do.” Garrett’s eyebrows shot up. He leaned in just slightly, and the timbre of his voice made her skin prickle.

“Trust me, Lily, if I wanted more, you’d know it already.” He leaned back with a smug smile. “I’m just curious about why you bolted. That’s all.”

She drew away from him, heat flushing from her chin to scalp. He was as arrogant as he was charming.

“I don’t get involved with firemen.” It was a simple, uncomplicated answer, and he’d have to take it at face value, because she wasn’t going any deeper. To his credit, it wasn’t as if she’d asked him for his résumé and work references before they’d gotten their make-out session on. It wasn’t his fault she kept having flashbacks of her sister’s death—it was hers. She owned it, claimed it, and that was good enough.

“Ah,” he said, as if it made perfect sense. “You got burned once, I take it?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What?”

He flipped one palm up. “I was just thinking your aversion to firemen could be because you’ve been burned by one. If so, I hope it wasn’t a member of DFD.” His impetuousness was almost amusing; Garrett didn’t seem to even realize he was being rude. No way was she responding to that, because nothing good was likely to come out of her mouth.

When she didn’t say anything, Garrett had the grace to look uncomfortable—for a second. “It’s just that I know a few of my guys have their priorities mixed up is all, so...”

“Understood,” she said, grateful she’d managed to stay polite when her head was churning with so many snarky replies. Lily recalled how Garrett had made the flirty face with women at the bar before she’d approached him. It was no secret that some of the firemen thought highly of their prowess—Garrett probably included.

He put his hands in his front pockets and spun on one heel, then walked to the doorway. Lily’s chest loosened a little. Garrett paused and ran a hand down the ancient trim in the doorway, his back muscles moving effortlessly beneath the thin layer of white cotton.

“Brad is going to be laid up for a while. Is working with me going to be a problem for you?” The challenge in his eyes when he turned to face her was clear; the smug tone of his voice was infuriating. She cleared her throat.

“Of course not.”

He tilted his head, observing her quietly for a moment. The intensity of his stare was unsettling and delicious. “Walk with me.”

She followed him out front, drawn by the incredible movement of his muscles beneath his clothes and his scent until they were at the packed dance floor. Garrett reached for her hand and grasped it lightly. Before she could pull away, he began maneuvering them through the crowd. They stopped at the empty stage.

“This dance floor needs to double in size. We want to put in another bar so patrons don’t have to wait. Another set of restrooms, a second waitress station and a larger seating area.”

“What about the property? Do your lines extend enough to allow the expansion?”

Garrett nodded for her to follow him and took her hand again as they walked back through the crowd.

“The property lines are another conversation,” he replied as they rounded the bar. “But first, let me show you what else we want done.”

He pointed things out, chatted about expansion, showed her what needed to be changed, enlarged and updated. Lily made mental notes, as it was a little hard to write anything down at the moment.

After another twenty minutes, Garrett led her back to the office. He motioned for her to go in first. She did, exceptionally aware of his body heat as she passed by him. Her brain was running numbers, and the preliminary, best-guess scenario would pad Ashden Construction for months to come.

“Of course, this office needs a total overhaul, as well,” he said offhandedly as she passed through the door. Lily smirked.

“No kidding.”

He chuckled, slipping behind the desk and settling into the leather chair. Lily remained standing, laid her pad of paper down and began scribbling notes. He leaned back, hands folded across his firm middle.

“What’s your time frame for beginning this project, Mr. Mateo?”

He rubbed his chin with a thumb before crossing his hands again. “Really? The other night it was Garrett.”

Lily’s spine stiffened. She closed her laptop before placing her palm on top of it and leaning in slightly.

“As far as I’m concerned, Mr. Mateo, I’d prefer if we didn’t let that evening interfere with a professional relationship.” Before he could speak, she straightened even more. “Your uncle called Ashden Construction for a reason. Hopefully because he was aware that we’re the best commercial construction firm in the area. Let us live up to that instead of letting our mishap cloud your judgment.”

His gaze swept over her, leaving behind a warm tingle. “Agreed.” He leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk. “I need someone who will give us a fair price, do exceptional work and start as soon as possible. No pressure, right?”

She thought of the twelve men working under her father and the dozen subcontractors who could be called in to help if needed. That, combined with their stellar reputation and her ability to create a solid budget, meant there was a lot less pressure than there might have been.

“No pressure.”

“Give me a proposal I can’t turn down, Lily.” Their eyes locked. “But before you do, come back tomorrow so I can show you the property lines. There’s more you need to see. I’m sorry Brad arranged such a late meeting. I’m not sure what his initial plan was for this, but in order for you to get the full scope of what we have in mind, you’ll need to be here in the daytime.”

Lily finished writing but didn’t look up. She had plans for tomorrow already. She wanted to say no, she’d have to come another time, but she didn’t want to jeopardize this contract. If Garrett wanted her to come back, she would.

He stood, moving to the doorway as she packed her things.

“What time?” She gathered her bag, pushed in the chair and strode to the doorway. Expecting that he’d move to let her out, Lily’s neck tingled again as Garrett simply remained stationary, filling the space.

“Noon.” A slow grin made a dimple dig deeply into his left cheek, as if he was mulling over a dirty little secret. “There’s more you need to see, but I can’t show you in the dark.”

Despite herself, Lily smiled before she dipped her head and tried to move past him. Immediate warmth wrapped around her, followed by the heady scent of spicy bergamot and sage. Her right shoulder brushed against him, sending sparks through her entire body. Before she could withdraw, Garrett scooped her elbow in one hand and turned her. Her back pressed against the door frame opposite him so they faced each other, his heat washing over her. Jacking up her blood pressure. Sending her pulse skyrocketing.

When was the last time she’d had such a spirited reaction to a man? Even her ex-fiancé hadn’t affected her this way. When Garrett had tempted her with his inviting gaze across the bar last week, something had felt different. The way her heart had jumped in her throat after battling a minefield of nerves had been different. The way her skin had flushed at the sound of his voice...it had all been different.

Nonetheless, she couldn’t read anything into her body’s reaction. The dreams that had resurfaced since the night of the fund-raiser were enough to set her back. All those firemen had triggered the anxiety she was trying to overcome, and Lily wasn’t going to risk going down that road again.

Despite her resolve, her gaze flicked to his lips. They were model perfect, soft yet undeniably male. The kind of lips that could kiss you tenderly good-night or grind you to aneurysm-worthy pleasure.

She squeezed her eyes shut and sidled to the left. The space was narrow, causing her chest to bump his, making her gasp and stiffen. He dipped his head, his hair tickling her temple as his gravelly voice filled her ears.

“Are you a vegetarian, Lily?” His expression was a tease and a dare rolled into one sexy smolder as he shifted to let her out of the office.

“Yes.”

Garrett paused before replying with a light chuckle. “Seriously? I was expecting you to say no. Either way, plan on staying a bit tomorrow.”

Lily pulled in a slow breath. There would be no staying. She was inspecting property lines, not—

“I’m the client, remember?” he said. She must be wearing her reluctance like a perfume. “Indulge me a little. Please?”

“The client.” Her voice trailed off before her brain broke free of its sexy-Garrett stranglehold. “Of course. However—”

There was loud thump from the room next door, followed by a long muffled groan. Both of them looked at the wall, as if they could see what was happening on the other side. From the sound, it was obvious Roan had fallen off the couch.

They turned back to look at each other, and Lily didn’t miss Garrett’s eye roll and sigh. He ran a hand over his face and was suddenly transformed into a man who looked as if he could sleep for a week. It was as though he’d taken off a mask, reducing him from cocky, confident Garrett to someone with a lot of weight on his shoulders.

“I’m going to check on Roan.” He thrust a hand out. Lily took it for a firm shake, interest in his transformation niggling at her. It shouldn’t matter, but it piqued her even so because in that moment he wasn’t a hotshot fireman. He was just a man who radiated hidden sadness and deep responsibility.

And that rubbed her both ways: wrong and right. Wrong because she didn’t have time to care what was going on under Garrett’s surface, and right because she’d be a complete bitch not to at least wonder.

Their hands parted more slowly than she would have liked, prompting Lily to make a half turn toward the hall and her exit.

“I’ll clear my schedule and meet you here at noon.”

“Okay.” He followed her down the hall until he stopped at the employee lounge. “Oh, and, Lily?”

She didn’t look back. If she did, he’d see how badly she was trembling. “Yes?”

“I’m not opposed to you wearing that coconut bra again.”

His voice was lighter, and the sound made her pause and look back. His weariness was gone and the usual confident charm had returned. His cocky grin seemed a bit out of place, as if it was a mask he hadn’t quite gotten to fit right. True colors? It was hard to tell which were really his. Not that she’d be finding out.

Lily turned back to the exit without a reply. The last thing she needed was to try to figure out a complicated man. She just wanted to secure this job, pack her bags and get the heck out of Danbury.

* * *

“THREE WEEKS?” LILY slid to the edge of her bed, taking the comforter with her until it bunched against her butt. She held the phone away from her ear, stared at it a moment to be sure she wasn’t still asleep.

Doug’s gruff voice floating through the receiver made it clear she was awake.

“It’s what you wanted, right?”

The blanket—and Adam the cat, who Lily hadn’t noticed—landed on the floor when she abruptly stood, excitement prickling her skin. Hell, yes, this was what she wanted. She just wasn’t expecting to have it so soon.

“Lincoln’s having an open house in the showroom and he could really use you there. That way you can check it out, see the sights—see if moving to Nashville is what you really want. Linc’s getting too busy with the construction end. Thankfully, he’s doing better than we are, but he could use some help.”

The Ashden Construction and Design office in Nashville wasn’t just an office, it was a showroom. Junk artists, master furniture builders, concrete and textile artists all had work on display. Lincoln managed both the construction business and the showroom, but he’d been trying to dump responsibility for the showroom for the past couple of years.

Lily wasn’t much of a crafter herself, but helping others support a career doing just that was close enough. The poetry of artisan construction elements had always fascinated her—bathroom sinks made from decorative concrete, mosaic tabletops, hand-carved finials and molding created by loving hands were as beautiful as stunning architecture. Managing the showroom would be a dream come true, especially since Lincoln was talking about starting an architectural salvage yard. Instead of watching reruns of American Pickers, she could be living it.

Her father had been reluctant to approve Lily’s request to transfer there—always citing that he needed her in Danbury more than she was needed in Nashville. Lily knew that her father played on her guilt over leaving him alone, so she stayed. Until recently, she hadn’t felt completely ready to move on, but the loneliness of her days and nights made her realize now was the perfect time.

The sound of swallowing came through the receiver. Scalding coffee, she suspected, black and strong enough to disembowel a T. rex.

“Linc’s excited that you’re coming, Lil. He wants you to give him a call when you can.”

Lily paced her small bedroom, barely feeling the scratchy carpet that usually irritated her bare feet. Leaving her father alone with no family in Kansas seemed cruel. But Doug seemed to be managing, as far as she could tell. Maybe he was ready for her to go.

He’d never said either way, because they never talked about how their relationship had changed since Katja had died, or about the tension between them. Knowing Doug, he never would. She’d tried so many times to get him to talk, to no avail. It was just easier to give up trying and keep her emotions bottled up.

“We need to talk this through a little more, Doug. I mean, if I do decide to move there, who will replace me in the office?”

She’d decided a long time ago that moving to Nashville was a no-brainer, and before she and Katja had decided to open a salvage yard in Danbury, she’d been ready to go. It was Nashville, for crying out loud. The nightlife. The shopping. The men. Guilt was the only thing holding her back now, and Lily was starting to see that was an obstacle she could skirt around.

“How’d it go last night? You didn’t text me like I asked.”

She sighed heavily at Doug’s deflection, but it didn’t dampen her excitement. The chance to meet new people, make new friends. Maybe find someone...who wasn’t Garrett. The thought prompted her to grab the alarm clock from her nightstand to check the time. Eleven o’clock. She’d tossed and turned last night, finally waking up after another nightmare only to spend hours staring at the wall.

“Doug, I have to go. Talk to you soon, okay?”

He hung up without a proper response, as usual, leaving Lily to rush through a shower with no time to dry her hair. A flowing, lacy top from her favorite store, Magnolia Pearl, and slim, well-worn jeans did the trick. She slicked on a touch of red lipstick on the way out the door.

Lily was still on an endorphin high when she pulled into the Throwing Aces. It was great to have something to focus on, something that helped drown out the reality that the first anniversary of her sister’s death was fast approaching. She’d been thinking about that a lot lately, wondering how she’d handle it—whether Doug would acknowledge it or ignore it. For once, Lily hoped he’d face the tragedy they’d been through, maybe talk about it—something.

Lily pushed her thoughts away as she tried the front door, frowning when she found the lobby completely dark. The building was eerily quiet and a little calming in its emptiness. She wandered through the main room of shadowy tables with upturned chairs, drawn to a soft glow coming from behind the bar.

Her excitement started to fade and apprehension about being alone in the deserted bar with Garrett crept in. She frowned. There was no reason to feel nervous. Sheesh. It was a business meeting, not a date.

“Hello?” Lily paused at the bar, running her fingers along the silky wood as she moved toward the door that led to the back. The door was slightly ajar, letting a sliver of light through. Then it suddenly swung open, startling her and revealing a smiling Garrett, wiping his hands on a towel. Lily jerked back, nearly dropping her canvas workbag. The impact of Garrett’s smile was nearly as intoxicating as the savory scent wafting out from the kitchen.

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