Flirting With Danger (4 page)

Authors: Claire Baxter

Tags: #Firefighters of Adelaide#1

BOOK: Flirting With Danger

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“It would explain why you haven’t tried very hard to find someone else. I mean, it’s
been years since Craig… Well, it’s unusual to be alone for so long, and I was starting
to worry about you. Are you sure you haven’t been fantasizing about Aaron in private?”

“Sasha! Of course I’m sure. His whole lifestyle is anathema to me. He’s a playboy
like Craig. Maybe even worse, if that’s possible.”

She’d thought that Craig was
the one
, but it had turned out that she was one of many for him.

“I didn’t know the truth about Craig until it was too late and I was completely blindsided
by his behavior. I do know how Aaron treats women and I’m not stupid enough to get
tangled up with him. What kind of an idiot would I be if I did?”

“Hmm.” Sasha gave her a thoughtful look. “You can have chemistry with someone without
approving of everything he does, you know.”

“We don’t have chemistry.” Although she’d been trying not to, she relived the way
he’d made her tingle all over with minimal effort. There had definitely been some
sort of chemical reaction happening on Saturday night. She tweaked the high neckline
of her T-shirt. “Warm in here, isn’t it?”

“No. Are you saying that you didn’t enjoy kissing him?”

Jasmine fidgeted in the white leather chair, which had a hard seat and dug into her
back. When she’d asked Sasha to come out for a drink, she’d been thinking of the local
pub with comfy booths, but Sasha had wanted to try the new cocktail bar in the city.
With its blond wood and bare spaces, it was stylish. Not her normal type of hangout.
And as for its claim to be the cocktail bar for the health-conscious—quite how Sasha’s
choice of goat weed and crushed mandarin mixed with Irish whiskey could be good for
her health was anybody’s guess.

Sasha was watching her with one eyebrow raised.
“Well?”

“All right, I admit I enjoyed it.” She sighed. “Too darn much, and that’s part of
my problem. He could hardly fail to notice how much I enjoyed it.”

Sasha’s second eyebrow rose as well. “Was it…um…more than just a kiss?”

Jasmine grimaced. “It was getting that way.”

Sasha gasped. “You were going to sleep with him?”

“If old Mr. Hughes next door hadn’t interrupted us…more than likely.”

“Well, then.” Sasha could barely suppress her excitement at the news. “I accept that
he might not be The One, but maybe he’s an itch you need to scratch. What about having
a short-term relationship with him? To get him out of your system?”

“It would be
very
short-term with him, wouldn’t it? But, no.” She shook her head for emphasis. “It’s
out of the question.”

“Because…?”

“For a start, I don’t believe in having a fling or whatever you’d call it.”

“I’d call it better than nothing.”

She shook her head again. “Not for me. It’s better not to go there at all.”

“You’re assuming you’d get hurt. It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“It would come to an end. When Craig—”

“Forget Craig. I know he broke your heart, but this would be different. You’d be a
strong, modern woman going in with your eyes open, and when it ended by mutual agreement,
you’d get on with your life.”

Jasmine couldn’t see it happening. If she slept with Aaron and then he broke up with
her, how could she work with him, knowing that he’d seen her at her weakest and most
vulnerable and still didn’t want her?

“It would be too difficult. Everything would be ruined. I’d have to leave…and where
would I go? It’s not as if there are many fire stations in Adelaide. I’d have to move
to another state—”

“Oh, no, that’s not going to happen. I don’t have so many friends that I can afford
to lose one. Although, if you moved to Sydney or Melbourne, I could come and visit
and we could go shopping.” She clicked her tongue. “No, you’re the world’s worst shopper.
I could shop and we could meet up afterward.”

Jasmine shook her head. “I’m not moving to Sydney or Melbourne just so you can go
shopping. Apart from you and Leanne, there’s my dad and my brothers.”

“You never see them now.”

“Well, ‘never’ is a bit of an exaggeration.”

“Oh, yeah? When was the last time?”

“It’s been a while, but that’s not the point. If I lived in a different state—”

“Nothing would change.”

“And anyway, I don’t want to leave my job. You know it’s not like a normal job, and
then there are the people I work with
apart
from Aaron. I’d have to leave all the people who matter to me and start over somewhere
else.”

“If it ended.”

“And it would. So, let’s forget about it and talk about something else. What happened
with Kane on Saturday? You haven’t said anything about it.”

Sasha smiled. “I had a great time. I’m seeing him again tomorrow night, and before
you say it, I don’t mind that he’s a bit younger than me. He’s adorable, and I don’t
work with him so there are no rules against us getting together. Anyway, it’s only
a bit of fun. Nothing serious. Neither of us is looking for long-term.”

“I hope it works out, then. Be careful.”

“Ha! You’re a fine one to talk. I’m going to get another drink. I can feel my health
improving already after just one.” As she spoke, Sasha picked up the two empty glasses.
“I had no idea I could do my bit for the environment by having a cocktail.”

Sasha was right. She
was
a fine one to talk. Still, she wouldn’t get into any trouble this weekend because
she was going to stay home and work on the house. No weddings, and no chance of kissing
Aaron.

Chapter Four

Aaron parked the Mazda in front of Jasmine’s little house. It looked worse in daylight.
He took in the overgrown garden as he walked to the front door. The step up to the
porch needed fixing and the paintwork on the windows was a mess, cracked and peeling.

He pressed the doorbell and waited. After a few moments he heard movement behind the
door and then it opened.

Jasmine’s eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought your bag back. You know, the one you left in my car?” He held it up for
her to see.

“Oh.”

“There never seemed to be a good time to give it to you at work. The guys were always
around.”

“I know.” She held out a hand for the bag.

Instead of passing it to her, he held on to it and said, “Aren’t you going to invite
me in?”

“It’s not a good time. I’ve been painting.”

He could see that, and he guessed she didn’t know about the streak of white paint
on her chin. She probably knew about all the drips and spatters on her figure-hugging
cutoff jeans and tight pink top, but he also guessed that she hadn’t expected anyone
to see her in such a revealing outfit. He gave a low whistle. “You’d better not be
planning to go out in public like that.”

“Not that it’s any of your business if I do,” she said, her eyes widening farther.

Strands of her hair had come loose from the rubber band she’d used to tie it back—altogether
a softer look than she went for at work, and very different from the way she’d looked
at the wedding, but just as appealing in a sexy-without-trying way.

“At least show me what you’ve been doing,” he said, giving her his most persuasive
smile. Now that he was here, he was in no hurry to leave, especially with her looking
the way she did.

She sighed and pushed the door open wide. “All right, but be careful. Don’t touch
any woodwork. It’s all freshly painted.”

He stepped past her and into a bright hallway. With the exception of the drop sheets
underfoot, it was immaculate with fresh white woodwork against yellow walls. He stopped
beneath the Victorian period arch. After gazing up at it for several seconds, he said,
“You’ve done all this painting yourself?”

“Of course.” She swept a satisfied look around the hallway.

“Nice job. How long did it take you?”

She shrugged. “All up including the preparation? Weeks. I’ve scraped, sanded, filled,
and resanded every bit of skirting and doorframe before painting it. I’ve finished
the whole house now. Inside, at least. This was the last bit, and I’ve done the final
coat in here today.”

“Don’t you have anybody who could help you? Family? Didn’t you mention you had brothers?”

“I don’t need help.”

He turned and looked at her. “That doesn’t really answer the question.”

“I do have family. A father and four brothers, if you must know. But they’re all busy
people. They’d help me if I needed them to. Like I said, I don’t.”

He nodded. “Point taken. So, have you been working all day?”

“I made an early start.”

He tipped back his head to study the ornate cornices. “You’ve had quite a day, then.
You must be done in. What do you think of this for an idea? While you clean up,” he
indicated her paint-smeared hands, “I’ll go and grab a pizza or two and some beers.
We can eat in the garden away from the paint fumes.”

She stared. “We? Why?”

“Because I figure you could do with a break, and I’m here anyway. We both have to
eat, and…” He shrugged. “Why not?”

He could imagine her coming up with half-a-dozen reasons why not, but he didn’t want
that to happen. “It’s only pizza. What do you say?”

“I say,
only
pizza? No such thing. Make it an extra-large and you’re on. Don’t hold the anchovies.
In fact, don’t hold anything.”

“I get the picture.” He grinned. “Right, well, I’ll leave you to do what you have
to do. I’ll be back shortly with food and beer.”

…

While he waited for the pizza to cook, Aaron wondered why he’d been so keen for Jasmine
to agree to his suggestion. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have anything else to do this
evening—there were plenty of standing invitations should he wish to take one of them
up, but he didn’t. One look at Jasmine in those scruffy, leg-revealing cutoffs and
that heart-stopping excuse for a top, and all other possibilities had flown right
out of his head, along with his good intentions where she was concerned.

Somehow, he had to remember exactly why it was a bad idea to let himself look at her
as anything other than a colleague. He’d had good reasons for not considering any
involvement with her before now and those reasons hadn’t magically disappeared because
he’d discovered what was beneath the bulky uniform and unflattering exercise gear,
distracting as that might be.

But hell, it had been difficult to get the taste of her out of his mind over the last
week, and he still hadn’t achieved that feat. It was weird. He’d kissed more women
than he cared to count, and none of those kisses had been so memorable that he woke
up at night thinking about them. This was the first time he’d found himself with such
a problem.

It was as if a lightbulb had been switched on last Saturday, and no matter how he
tried, he couldn’t find the switch to turn it off again. Setting eyes on her today
had only served to reinforce the knowledge that he wanted a repeat performance, but
as much as he might want it, he couldn’t have it, and he would do very well to remember
that fact this evening. Jasmine wasn’t just some woman he’d met in a bar; she was
the very last woman on earth he should be fantasizing about.

The skinny teenager calling his name startled him from his mental dithering, and he
went to the counter. “Thanks, mate. I was miles away.”

“She must be hot,” the guy said with a cheeky grin.

Aaron twitched his eyebrows and tilted his head in acknowledgement, his smile wry.
He took the pizza boxes and jogged with them back to his car. All he was doing was
providing sustenance, because even if she didn’t believe she needed help, she deserved
it after the day she’d had.

There was another reason too. He had a favor to ask. Pizza and beer might go some
way toward putting her in a good mood so that she’d agree to help him. He didn’t fancy
his chances otherwise. He didn’t know any other woman who could handle what he needed
her to do, but that wasn’t the only reason he hoped she’d agree—he genuinely wanted
to spend some time with her away from work. Right now she was the only woman he did
want to spend time with.

…

Jasmine had taken the world’s fastest shower and wasn’t sure it had completely obliterated
the smell of the paint thinners with which she’d removed the worst of the stains from
her hands. She’d scrubbed them till they were red, and her hair was still wet and
dripping on her shoulders. The important thing was she’d managed to change into jeans
and a T-shirt that was probably two sizes too big.

Cover-up clothes. They should have made her feel more relaxed, but strangely, sitting
here on the old, crazy-paved patio outside her home, she felt every bit as exposed
as she had in her skimpy painting outfit. Exposed in a different way, though. She
was in her personal space here, and she rarely shared it with anyone, much less a
mouthwatering man.

Eating with him here, like this, was something she could never have predicted. She
ate with him day after day at the fire station. They had a roster system for cooking
meals, and were encouraged to dine together around one large table in order to promote
the camaraderie and family-style bond that helped them work together so well. But
there, they were part of a large, noisy group. Teasing and joking were the norm. Exactly
like being part of a family, in fact. Whereas this…this seemed intimate somehow. As
if just by being here he would learn everything there was to know about her. More
than she wanted him to know.

Aaron helped himself to a slice from the wood-oven pizza sitting between them on the
wrought-iron table that she’d unearthed—literally—from a compost heap at the bottom
of the garden not long after moving into the house. She’d cleaned it up, added a pair
of chairs she’d found in an antique shop, and with grape vines trailing overhead,
she often sat out here and imagined she was in France.

Would he laugh at her if he knew that?

“It’s been a strange week, hasn’t it?” Aaron said before taking a bit of pizza.

After watching a trail of cheese all the way to his mouth, she gave herself a mental
slap. “I’ve had better weeks.” She huffed out a short laugh. “In fact, I’ve had better
dental surgery.”

In addition to what had happened on Saturday night after the wedding, then the tension
between her and Aaron at work, the job itself had been frustrating. That was what
being a firefighter was like—some days it was just sitting around, waiting, checking
equipment, cleaning the station; others, it wasn’t.

On Tuesday, they’d fought a factory fire. Two of the crew had been taken to hospital—one
had been treated for a knee injury and would take months to recover, while the other
had suffered heat stress—the building had been too badly damaged to save, and something
like that always left a hollow feeling. Not a sense of failure, exactly, but a definite
dissatisfaction that despite people being injured, there was no positive result to
show for their efforts.

Worse still, on Wednesday there’d been a bad road traffic accident, and it had taken
them a frustratingly long time to extract a young mother and her injured children
from the wreckage. Their teamwork had saved lives, no doubt about it. Even so, the
victims had suffered for longer than any of the team would have wished, making it
difficult to be satisfied with the overall outcome.

She let out a heavy sigh. “Something to do with the alignment of the planets, I guess.”

His eyebrows rose. “I’m surprised you believe in all that astrology stuff. Doesn’t
seem like your sort of thing at all.”

“No, it’s not, but Sasha believes in it, so I must be channeling her. She always has
a reason for what’s happening. One planet is going backward and two others are meeting
up. The way she talks about it, you’d think they’d need traffic lights up there with
planets whizzing around all over the place.”

He chuckled. After a moment, he said, “Talking of Sasha…Kane tells me he’s taking
her out again.”

“So I gather. They’re going out tonight. Did Kane say anything else?”

“Like what? Whether his intentions are honorable?” He grinned.

“Well, yes,” she said, refusing to feel stupid for being concerned about her friend.

He shook his head. “No, he hasn’t said anything, but I very much doubt it.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Look…he likes her, but he’s a young bloke taking out an attractive woman. Whatever
his intentions are, they’re completely natural, I’m sure.”

“Huh. He’d better not hurt her—”

“Or he’ll have you to deal with. I already told him so.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d better warn him. He’s quite attached to his various body parts.”

“Hmm. Well. Good.” She chewed on a mouthful of pizza.

As if it had been waiting for a quiet moment, Aaron’s mobile phone rang. He gave her
an apologetic glance before answering, and then Jasmine was forced to sit by, pretending
not to listen, while some woman tried to convince him to meet her. Although she could
only hear his end of the conversation, it was clear what was going on.

There was only so much to look at in her back garden. She’d studied the lemon tree,
the lawn, the birdbath, and the grapevine, so she went inside to fill a jug with iced
water. She returned in time to hear him gently but firmly turn the caller down and
end the call. She was quite impressed, actually, by how patient he’d been with someone
who wouldn’t take no for an answer. But then he’d had plenty of practice at handling
women, hadn’t he? He sailed through life, taking his pleasure where he wanted, and
yet he didn’t have hordes of women out for his blood. Because he knew how to handle
them, obviously.

He slipped the phone into his pocket as she set the jug and two glasses on the table.

“Do you have to go?” She nodded at the phone.

“No.” He looked up. “Do you want me to leave?”

Shrugging, she said, “You’re not stopping me from doing anything important. You must
have plans, though. It’s Saturday night, after all. You always go out on Saturday
night if you’re not working.”

“True.” He reached for another slice of pizza. “Still, if it’s all right with you,
I’ll hang around for a bit longer.”

“Makes no difference to me.” In contrast to her casual words, her heart raced as she
filled both glasses with water before sitting down. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Who?”

“The woman on the phone. Why don’t you want to meet her?”

He gave her a wide-eyed, innocent look. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Yes, you do. Repeatedly. How else would I know all about your girlfriends?”

“Oh. Well, in that case…she has this habit of using finger quotes in all the wrong
places.”

Jasmine screwed up her face. “What?”

“She says things like, we went out to ‘dinner.’” He wiggled his fingers in the air
as he said the last word. “Now, what is with that?”

“Did you go out to dinner?”

“Yes, and it was very nice too. Nothing wrong with the meal.”

“Then, I have no idea, but it sounds like a hanging offense.”

“It’s very off-putting.” He shook his head, then grinned. “I solved the problem.”

“How?”