Make it Hot (7 page)

So she gave Jenny the blow-by-blow of everything that had happened. Afterward, the all-knowing smirk that crossed Jenny’s face made Samantha wish she had kept her mouth shut.

“Girl, he likes you and he just let you know he is in full pursuit. I love it!” Jenny smiled and gave a satisfied sigh. “Only a matter of time now before the two of you are dating.”

“Dating! Girl, now I know you’ve lost your mind.”

“Mark my words, girlfriend.” Jenny kept bouncing excitedly. “Ooooo, I wonder what he’s gonna do next. I have a feeling he’s gonna—”

“Enough, already. It doesn’t matter what he does next, because I intend to keep this relationship purely professional. The last thing I need is for my colleagues to start giving me strange looks because I started dating a patient.”

“You’re crazy, girlfriend. If anything, we’ll all start looking at you funny if you let that fine piece of man get away. At least I know for a fact I will.” Jenny started cracking up and got up from her seat.

“If you’re not doing anything this weekend, stop over. Walt and the kids would love to see you, and I think we better squeeze in as many visits as possible before you start dating that fine man and no longer have time to come and visit us.”

Samantha rolled her eyes.

“Walt will probably put some stuff on the grill Saturday, so stop by if you can.”

“Yeah, yeah, I might stop by, but only to see the kids and Walt. But you…you with your big jinxing mouth? No way.”

Jenny really cracked up then. “See you Saturday, girlfriend.”

She winked and left Samantha to her contemplation.

Joel sat parked outside of the office building for Hightower Security. He had been driving past on his way home from the computer store and stopped. It was a Saturday afternoon so no one was there, but he had been inside enough times to know that the plush, modern-style offices were a far cry from the firehouse.

The firehouse had pretty much been a second home. It bustled with energy and excitement. It bristled with friendship and camaraderie. Even though Hightower Security was a family-owned business, he couldn’t imagine the office building housing the same kind of vibe and pulse as the firehouse.

When he fought fires, he felt alive and worthwhile, like he was doing something important, helping people. He felt like a strong man, and even though he realized on certain levels that his masculinity wasn’t wrapped up in his uniform, he still had a hard time thinking about one without the other. Where else would he be able to get that kind of feeling?

He glanced at the tall, glossy, mirrored-window building. He didn’t know if he would be able to find what he needed in there.

He thought about his discussion with his brothers a few days ago and realized it was time for him to start thinking about things he had been putting off—like what was he going to do if he could not fight fires any longer.

The probability he was done on the fire department was more than high, but he hadn’t really given up hope. He held on to the belief something miraculous would happen and he would be the man he was before the accident.

It was getting harder and harder to hold on to that belief, but he couldn’t let go. He didn’t want to face his bleak reality. Saying he would take a position at Hightower Security felt too much like giving up. The mere thought of it caused his gut to roll and his skin to run cold.

Depression started to set in as he let out a breath and started up his vehicle. He didn’t know if he would be able to survive without the thrill.

Instead of going to his parents’ home and sharing a meal with them, he decided to stop by the grocery store in Elmwood Park, since it was so close to the Hightower office building in Fairlawn. They also had a wider variety of food and fresher products, and truth be told, since it was in the suburbs it was cleaner and kept up a little bit better. Plus, it wasn’t too far from his town house. A bunch of TV dinners would insure he wouldn’t have to be around people again until he was in a better mood.

When he got to the frozen-food aisle, he saw a sight that suddenly took all the self-pity and sad thoughts away. Instead, they were replaced with pure lust.

He saw the phenomenal backside of Samantha “Little Miss Spitfire” Dash in a pair of jean shorts and a white T-shirt tied at the side. Taking in her glossy, black, twisted hair and her luscious behind, he’d know her anywhere, from
any
angle.

She was struggling with about three bags of ice, and he rushed over to help her with them as he thought of all the amazing things he could do to her with the right amount of time and just a fraction of that ice.

He smiled as he crept up on her and relieved her of two of the bags. It was hard to remember why he had been so down just a few minutes ago. How could anyone be down when gazing at such a beautiful woman?

She gasped and turned around when he took the bags from her hands.

“See…you almost got slapped,” she said with a squint of her eyes and a soft smile.

“Now that would have been a shame. You ladies want to complain chivalry is dead and yet you want to slap the first brother that goes out of his way to try and help you.”

Her smile broadened. “
Whatever.
You sneaking up on a sistah is just wrong. What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?”

“Nope. I just saw a beautiful woman who looked like she needed some help, so just hush your fuss and let me help you carry all this ice, at least something will brighten up this day.” He regretted the words as soon as they came out his mouth.

After she spent so much time yesterday trying to make him feel better, the last thing he wanted to do was come off like the nickname she teased him with all the time,
Mr. Surly.

Her beautiful brown eyes softened in concern, and he found himself wishing he could go back in time.

“What’s wrong, Joel?” There was a tender lilt in her voice, the kind that could probably coax a man out of his money, time and mind.

It was so different from the tone he was used to hearing from Little Miss Spitfire. Teasing, smart aleck and opinionated were her usual fare. With this new gentle tone and expression, she seemed to really care about what was going on with him. She made his heart soften and his mouth loose.

“Nothing big. I just decided to visit the family company today to get a feel for what my life might be like, and it was kind of…” He sighed.

No, he couldn’t do this. He didn’t want her pity.

She tilted her head a little as if studying him and then she nodded.

“So I take it you didn’t automatically take to your possible new grazing grounds?”

Why did he ever think the spitfire would pity him? The demanding physical therapist was a taskmaster when it came to making him learn the stretching techniques and exercises for his back, and she never let him sulk or pity himself for long when in her presence. He shook his head.

“Girl, you ain’t nothing nice, huh? You see a brother feeling all down and you just come in with the zingers like that dang electric stimulation you love so much. A shock a minute, huh?”

She smiled and laughed. “Come on, before my ice melts, Hightower. You don’t want my pity anyway, and you’re starting to love the electric stimulation now, so don’t complain.”

He followed her to the checkout counters and stood in line with her.

“You can just put those on the counter. I didn’t mean to drag you away from your shopping. I can manage from here.”

“Now what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t help you carry these to your car? My parents raised me better than that. Besides, I was just coming in for a couple of frozen dinners and maybe a box of Ben & Jerry’s to wash away my blues.”

Knowing she wasn’t going to pity him was kind of freeing in a way. He could voice how pathetic he was feeling and know she was going to say something to make him snap out of it.

What would he do in a couple of weeks when his therapy sessions with her were over and he didn’t have her to keep him in check?

“Aww, poor Mr. Surly, are you going to drown your sorrows in some Chunky Monkey or some Cherry Garcia? ’Cause if it’s Chunky Monkey, then you and I might be able to see eye to eye on something for a change.”

She had a cute little smile on her face he suddenly felt the urge to kiss off.

“Anyone with taste buds in his or her mouth knows the only flavors worth eating are Karamel Sutra and Oatmeal Cookie Crunch.”

She shook her head in mock disgust. “I just don’t know about you, Hightower. I just don’t know.”

She paid for her ice, and he helped her carry it to the car.

She stood in front of her car and gazed at him with those beautiful eyes of hers. He tried to brush off the sudden pounding in his chest and the urge to lean forward and just taste those luscious, berry-glossed lips. He tried, but he was only human. Before he could think or say a prayer that she wouldn’t slap him into next week, his mouth covered hers and took over for his brain and the rest of his body.

The mouth wanted what the mouth wanted. And the way her lips automatically opened and her tongue trailed out to tangle with his told him he wasn’t the only one who wanted this kiss.

He’d never tasted anything as sweet as her mouth. He groaned from deep in his gut when she pulled away.

She opened her mouth and closed it again. Before she got into her small coupe, she gave him one of those inquisitive looks, and it appeared as if she was thinking of saying something. She let out a breath and gave a half smile instead.

“I appreciate your helping me carry my packages to the car, and I guess I owe you one. Although, we may be able to say you just collected your payment…See you on Monday for your session.”

He watched her get into her car and drive away, as he headed back to the frozen-food aisle he didn’t even question why he was placing Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey in his basket along with his own favorite flavors.

After an amazing kiss like that however, he did wonder how long it was going to take him to get Samantha Dash into his home to have her ice cream. He had a couple of weeks to take care of Little Miss Spitfire, but this was one fire he wanted to let burn.

He had kissed her darn near speechless.

Samantha wanted to kick herself as she drove away from Joel. She had considered inviting him to go with her to Jenny and Walt’s cookout. But then she imagined the know-it-all, I-told-you-so expression that would have crossed her friend’s face, and Samantha’s desire to put a smile on Mr. Surly’s face was overruled by common sense.

Common sense sucked, especially when it got in the way of her spending more time with a man as fine as Joel Hightower; a man who kissed so divinely. But that was the way it had to be. If she wanted to keep her professional distance, she had to make sure she kept all desire at bay.

But the way he’d kissed her made her want to throw caution to the wind. If only he wasn’t a fireman….

When she showed up at Jenny’s house, she still had Joel on the brain. Trying to focus on anything else seemed impossible.

“And, so I’ve decided I’m leaving Walt to have a steamy ménage à trios with Denzel Washington and Eminem, which probably won’t last because I’m desperately in love with Madonna.”

“That’s nice,” Samantha responded absently to Jenny as she replayed the way Joel’s eyes seemed to soak up every inch of her body, how much she liked the way his gaze made her feel, how good his lips felt on hers.

She was in trouble.

“Now see, girl, you ain’t even listening to a word I’ve said! What’s got your attention in another world?” The irritated tone of Jenny’s voice broke her reverie.

Samantha turned to her friend. “I’m listening to you. Nothing has my attention.”

“Oh, really, then I guess you really do think it’s a good idea for me to quit my job, take the kids and join the circus?”

“Huh?”

“And I suppose I really should buy that purple muu-muu with the matching turban and wear it to Walt’s Omega Psi Phi ball?”

“Purple moo-moo? What the…No.”

“Oh, but you just told me I should go on ahead and leave Walt to hook up with Denzel and Eminem even though Madonna has caught my eye.”

Samantha rolled her eyes.

Okay,
so maybe she hadn’t been paying attention the past half hour. That didn’t mean Jenny had to get all crazy.

They had finished eating and had gone inside the house to Jenny’s den to chat while the kids played outside with Walt.

She loved Jenny and Walt’s home on the border of Totowa and Paterson. The three-bedroom, one-and-a-half-bath home had a nice side yard with a swing and slide for the kids. Like the majority of the houses on the block, it was a Cape Cod–style house, and the inside was deceptively larger than it appeared on the outside. They had just upgraded their aluminum siding and the house was now a forest-green color that stood out among the white and yellow homes around it.

“Girl, please, you aren’t even Madonna’s type, and you know I got dibs on Denzel as soon as Pauletta is done with him, so you best stick with Slim Shady.” Samantha laughed, and Jenny joined her after trying and failing to keep her irritated expression in tact.

“So what has your mind? Did your mom call or something?”

Samantha shook her head. “No, she didn’t, and it’s nothing really. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, I know how it is, and the only time you’ll catch me staring into space and looking all crazy eyed is when I’m thinking about my man and the loving he put on me the night before.” Jenny shut her eyes for a moment as if she were having a memory, then she opened them with a teasing grin on her face. “And since we both know you don’t have a man right now, and you’re about to let one hell of a fine one slip away, what has your head all tripping?”

“Nada.”

“Nada, my behind. Come on and ’fess up.”

“Did I say nada? I meant, nonna. As in nonna yo’ business….”

“Oh, I got your nonna, all right. I’ve fed you and you’ve been ignoring me for the past half hour. You gotta give me something on general principle. It’s the least you can do.”