Playing With Fire (8 page)

She waited at the closed door, visibly gathering her courage before stepping outside. “Stay here. Please,” she said and sniffed. “This is going to be difficult enough for me as it is."

"I'm not about to let you face him alone."

"I have to. Technically, he's still ... my boyfriend."

"For about thirty more seconds."

"You don't know that."

"The hell I don't."

He grabbed her then, spun her around and kissed her roughly; letting her know in no uncertain terms that she was his and his alone. Both of them were breathing unevenly when he finally released her.

Pressing an open hand to her chest, he felt the violent pounding of her heart against his palm.

"Tell me the truth,” he demanded. “Does this happen when Joey kisses you?"

"No,” she whispered.

His satisfaction was short-lived.

Lifting her chin, she met his gaze head on. “Don't mistake a trivial physiological reaction for more than what it is."

"Trivial, my ass."

She stiffened, but her heart continued its erratic beat, giving her away.

"I need time, Matt. Time to explain to Joey and time to sort through what's happened.” She closed her eyes, making a conscious effort to control her emotions. “I'd appreciate it if you didn't come out right away."

He'd give her one minute. But he didn't tell her that. “All right."

She turned around then, opened the door partway, and ducked through the narrow opening.

He entered the living room exactly one minute later. Joey and Lindsay stood at opposite ends of the kitchen, about twelve feet apart. Upon seeing him, their conversation came to an immediate halt. They each looked guilty as hell, which annoyed Matt to no end. If anyone should feel guilty, it was him.

"How about I call you later?” Joey suggested to Lindsay with more consideration than another man might have shown in his place. “I know you're upset, but trust me, this isn't as bad as it seems."

Lindsay nodded, puppetlike, and shoved her hands into her coat pockets and headed to the front door. As she passed Matt, she shot him the briefest of glances. The pain in her eyes cut him in two. He started to say something, then reconsidered. He, too, would be calling her later. Or better yet showing up on her doorstep.

She left quickly and quietly without saying goodbye. Matt couldn't help but admire her. It had taken real guts for her to face Joey. More than it took him to face his roommate now. He walked into the kitchen where he found Joey standing at the counter, sipping a cup of coffee as if he had nothing more important on his mind than that. The two men measured one another from a distance.

Joey broke the silence first. “I forgot you were sleeping in my room."

"This is all my fault. I forced Lindsay to ... Wait, I don't mean it like that. She came here last night looking for you and I...” Matt raised a hand, then dropped it, giving up a losing battle. “I didn't think you'd be home this early."

His roommate's brows lifted quizzically. He set his mug of coffee down, then poured a second one from the thermos he usually took with him to work and handed it to Matt. Steam rose from the black liquid in white, wispy curls. “We finished up about eleven o'clock last night."

Something didn't make sense. As Matt accepted the mug of coffee, a light bulb flickered on in his head. He had the sneaking suspicion the situation had just become ten times more complicated. “Where have you been since then? It's almost five thirty."

"I stopped by Karyn's house."

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm not.” Joey pulled his lips back in a half-grin, half-grimace.

"And spent the night with her?"

He hung his head, then raised it, his expression chagrined. “Guess you and Lindsay aren't the only ones who have some explaining to do."

Matt let out a long sigh. “Oh, shit."

"That goes double for me,” Joey said and took another sip of coffee.

Chapter 5

"Hey, you! Get outta there."

The black and tan pup, head buried to his neck in the kitchen trash can and tail wagging ninety miles an hour, didn't pay the least bit of attention to Dennis Bigelow.

Smart dog
, Matt thought, not for the first time since the stray had taken to hanging around the fire station, mooching, or occasionally stealing, food scraps. From the looks of it, their visitor had found something interesting.

"I said beat it!"

Dennis kicked the pup in the haunches, hard enough to warn him off the trash can, but not harsh enough to injure him. With a high-pitched yelp, the pup flipped sideways, knocking the trash can over and strewing the contents across the floor.

"Hey!” Matt stepped forward. “Was that really necessary?"

"Damn it to hell!” Dennis stomped his foot hard, making a loud noise. Ears flat and tail low, the pup ran from the kitchen, through the common room and straight to Emilio Chavez's office, a candy bar wrapper stuck to his nose. “If everyone would stop feeding him, he'd go away."

Matt chuckled. The little bugger had befriended the two people on their shift who could help him the most; the captain and Lindsay. As if hearing her name, she stormed into the kitchen, prepared to give Dennis a piece of her mind.

"You didn't have to hurt him.” Fists planted on her hips and fury in her eyes, she sent Dennis a stare so chilly, Matt swore the room temperature dropped twenty degrees. “He's young, he's hungry, and he doesn't know any better."

"He's a pain in the butt. And so are you.” Dennis held his hand out, level with his forehead. “I've had it up to here with the both of you. Him chewing everything in sight and you on a chronic PMS rampage."

Difficult as it was, Matt kept quiet. He disliked the snide remark Dennis directed at Lindsay, but firefighters, by unspoken agreement, stayed out of personal disputes unless tempers escalated to the danger level. In some ways, they were like an extended family, and a certain amount of bickering was expected and tolerated. Neither Lindsay nor Dennis would appreciate Matt's interference, each for their own reasons.

"Isn't that just like you, Bigelow,” Lindsay shot back. “When you can't come up with an intelligent remark, you resort to sexist insults."

Dennis’ face turned a dark red. “I'm calling the pound right now and having that stupid mutt picked up today."

"Nobody's calling the pound.” Emilio Chavez walked into the kitchen. The dog, sans candy wrapper, followed faithfully, his long, pink tongue lolling in a playful canine grin. “You're seasoned pros, both of you. Quit acting like a couple of booters.” He jerked his thumb at the toppled trash can. “Dennis, get this mess cleaned up. And Lindsay. You take care of the puddle the dog left in the hall by the utility closet.

Bending to his task, Dennis grumbled under his breath. Lindsay ignored him, reaching across the sink and snagging several paper towels from the holder. She was halfway out the kitchen when Emilio stopped her.

"I'll see you both in my office when you're through."

The unspoken agreement to not interfere obviously didn't apply to captains.

"Yes, sir,” they said in unison.

Matt watched Lindsay go, the straight line of her back conveying her mood more effectively than words. He felt for her, for Dennis, too, imagining the scene in Emilio's office. Lindsay and Dennis had been at odds more than usual lately and the captain, Matt was sure, planned to end it.

While he didn't always agree with Dennis, Matt did in this case. Ever since the morning two weeks ago when Joey walked in on him and Lindsay, she hadn't been her usual pleasant self. Truthfully, she'd become darn near impossible to be around.

Matt told himself to be patient that she needed time to come to terms with the idea of them being together.

Well, she hadn't come to terms, and his patience was fast running out.

As promised, he'd gone to see Lindsay that morning after he and Joey talked, expecting to find her distraught but glad to see him. She hadn't been home. Neither had she been home that night, or the next day. The voice mail messages and pages he left weren't returned.

Okay. He got the hint. She didn't want to see him or talk to him.

Their first day back at work together went badly. When he cornered her alone in the workout room, she'd fed him some line about there being too many complications. What complications? He and Lindsay were on, she and Joey were off. Simple.

He, she'd insisted, didn't understand.

No, he didn't. Could she please explain it to him?

If he didn't already understand her feelings, nothing she said would make a difference.

Failing once again to comprehend her logic, Matt left, more confused than angry.

Not realizing Lindsay was shutting him out, Joey filled Matt in on the details. She'd taken the news of Joey's reconciliation with his ex-fiancée well, and they'd parted on good terms, agreeing to remain friends.

Upon learning this, Matt made another totally-male-and-thereby-wrong assumption; he and Lindsay would slide into a comfortable dating relationship.

She corrected his erroneous thinking the next day at work.

Too stubborn for his own good, he'd stopped by Lindsay's place one evening, peace offering in hand. For thirty minutes, his hormones waged war with his brain cells, the latter winning by the slimmest of margins. They'd sat on her couch, making awkward conversation over two cups of her favorite Starbucks coffee when what he really wanted to do was push her down onto the cushions and dribble Mocha Frappuccino onto her bare nipples.

While barely managing to keep his obvious erection under control, he'd listened to her explain why her breakup with Joey didn't automatically imply she and Matt were a couple.

Translation: she felt guilty.

Finally. Something Matt understood. He, too, had suffered a fleeting twinge of guilt. But seeing Joey and Karyn back together and deliriously happy pretty much alleviated it.

Lindsay wasn't still bothered by what happened, was she?

Yes. They'd been wrong to sleep together and should have waited.

Reminding her that Joey had been with Karyn at the same time he and Lindsay were together only earned him an exasperated huff, followed by a that's-not-the-point argument. Three days later, he still hadn't sorted it out.

"Callahan,” Emilio barked. “Don't you have something else to do besides stand around here taking up space?"

"Yes,” Matt said, giving his head a quick shake to clear the cobwebs. “As a matter of fact, I do.” With a friendly salute to his captain, he strode off in search of Lindsay. There had to be something else bothering her besides the thing with him and Joey. She wasn't one to let her personal life affect her job.

"Oh, by the way.” Emilio's sharp call brought Matt to a standstill. “Word from Fire Administration is that the test results will be posted this afternoon. Good luck."

The test results for engineer. Of course! How could he have been so dense? That's what had Lindsay on edge. In the midst of everything else going on, the test had completely slipped his mind. He'd even forgotten to study and winged it during the final session last week.

"Thanks, but I'm not holding my breath.” He nodded at Emilio and left.

Actually, Matt didn't care if he made engineer or not. He'd tested only because he thought a promotion might impress his father. A mistake, he realized in retrospect. Advancing through the ranks in a career his father didn't approve of in the first place wouldn't alter the older man's opinion. Lindsay, however, wanted the promotion and had worked harder than any of them to get it. Matt didn't doubt she'd be the next engineer for the City of Glendale Fire Department.

He found her at the dumpster behind the station, discarding the soiled paper towels. The plain uniform did a poor job of hiding the sweet curves of her figure. The shorts, meant to be functional, accentuated her narrow waist and the slope of her hips, hips he'd held firmly in his hands while racing in a mad frenzy toward release. At the sight of her bare, tanned legs, his heart rate accelerated.

Letting the heavy lid on the dumpster drop, she tracked his approach with wary green eyes. In his mind, he saw those green eyes widen in surprise when he entered her, warm with pleasure as he moved in and out, then squeeze shut at the moment of climax. Every muscle in his body involuntarily tensed.

"Hi.” Leaning his back against the brick building, he shoved his fists inside his front pockets, hoping to appear casual and not like he'd purposefully sought her out. “Don't let Dennis get to you."

"I'm not.” She kicked at a pebble, sending it skipping across the blacktop.

"That wasn't his butt you just mentally kicked into the next county, was it?"

She cracked a tiny smile.

The last residuals of tension between them dissipated. Matt took full advantage.

"I know Dennis can be a jerk sometimes, but he has his good qualities, too. Next to you, there isn't anyone else I'd rather have in the field with me."

Lindsay studied him through slitted eyes, wondering if she should take his compliment at face value.

"It's true,” he reiterated, correctly guessing her thoughts.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me.” He probably didn't realize how much. Lindsay's struggle for acceptance by her male peers had been an ongoing battle since her first day at the academy. “I'm mad at myself mostly,” she admitted. “Sometimes, I think I play right into Dennis’ hands."

"Now that you mention it...” One side of Matt's mouth lifted in a dangerous grin.

Dangerous because it cut through her carefully constructed defenses with the ease of a knife slicing soap suds.

What am I so afraid of?

It was the same question she'd asked herself over and over since spending the night with him.

The answer wasn't Joey. They'd resolved their differences and returned to the kind of relationship they'd always had but not admitted to: friendship. He deserved to be happy, and she was glad for him, if a little concerned. Karyn had hurt him badly in the past. Lindsay didn't want the same thing to happen again and had cautioned him to proceed slowly. He'd assured her he would. Lindsay, however, feared he'd go off the deep end without so much as a backwards glance.