Playing With Fire

I started past him toward the cab, but Cowboy unexpectedly stopped me in my tracks by planting two large hands on either side of my waist. Caught off guard, I stood there staring up at him with wide, unblinking eyes, unsure as to what the hell he was doing. And from the way he hesitated himself, I wasn’t sure if he knew, either.

The movement had brought his face close to mine, so close I felt his breath caressing my lips. The warmth of his fingers seared through the thin fabric of my skirt, but it was no match for the heated look he gave me. Moonlit eyes stared at me, twinkling with what seemed to be a mischievous thought, judging by the way the corner of his mouth lifted.

Was he thinking about kissing me?

Before I could contemplate the idea any further, Cowboy lifted me easily into the truck with one quick, smooth motion. Guess not. An unexpected surge of disappointment ran through me. But why? It wasn’t like I wanted him to kiss me. Liar. The thought flashed through my mind so quickly it annoyed me. “I’m not an invalid, you know. I could have climbed in without assistance.”

His hands, still on my waist, tightened their grip. “The last thing I needed was you lifting that skirt of yours to climb in while I was standing behind you.” His eyes smoldered and his tone deepened. “Otherwise, you’d have something much bigger to worry about than whether or not someone took your radio.”

His potent words delivered a pulsing ache straight to my nether regions, and the hot tang of desire bubbled in my throat. I swallowed hard as I buckled up, but didn’t dare let out a breath until he shut the passenger door and strolled around to the driver’s side. Once settled into his seat, Cowboy strapped himself in, and put the truck into gear without looking over at me.

“Where do you live?” he asked.

“County Road 1500. It’s not too far out of your way, is it?”

“Nope. No problem. I pass right by there on my way home. If you want help with your tire in the morning, I could always swing by and—”

“No, that’s okay,” I said quickly. “I’ll manage. Thanks, anyway.”

“Suit yourself. But just in case, take this,” he said, grabbing a business card from his console and pressing it into my palm. “My cell number is at the bottom.” He cocked his left arm over the steering wheel and raised one brow. “So are you going to tell me what freaked you out earlier?”

Not no, but hell no. I bit into my bottom lip, then said, “It was nothing.”

He measured me with his eyes, then grinned. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” He checked his rearview mirror and eased onto the highway. No doubt his bullshit meter had just rocketed sky-high.

The awkward silence that followed made me self-conscious. What the heck were we supposed to talk about now? The weather? Politics or religion? My lack of a brain every time I was around him? God, what’s the matter with me?

“Um, Bobbie Jo mentioned that you made captain at the fire department a while back,” I said, using his promotion as an icebreaker. “Congratulations.”

I expected him to smile, but instead, his brows furrowed, and large grooves formed in his forehead. He kept his eyes on the road. “Three months ago, to be exact.”

He hesitated, as if he were contemplating not saying more, then continued anyway. “But I’ve had to take on the role of acting chief because the man who promoted me, Chief Swanson, died in a fire the same night. Guess you could say I haven’t felt much like celebrating.”

My stomach clenched into a knot and my heart shriveled as a dull ache crept inside my chest. It was as if someone fisted my heart in their hand and gave it a hard squeeze. “I’m sorry to hear that.” And I meant it.

“Chief Swanson threw me a promotion party that afternoon. Then sometime before midnight, several 911 calls came in reporting a structure fire at his home address.”

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