How to Seduce a Fireman: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance (9 page)

Quinn hit the delete button. Hell, he hadn’t planned on screwing up everyone’s life. The shit just happened. “Yeah, I love you, too, dad.”

He did a search of fire and rescue companies advertising for personnel. He found two in Miami and Saint Augustine and filled out the online applications. He’d be far enough away from Cassie that she’d give up hope of a future with him, yet he’d be close enough if she needed him for any kind of emergency. Lynn Haven and Pensacola had openings too. So did Brunswick, Georgia. After applying at those stations, he made a list of everyone he’d emailed earlier in the day and composed a standard message stating he’d decided to stay closer to the water and warmer temperatures. Thanks for checking around for openings for him, but he planned to stick to fire and marine rescue.
Blah, blah, blah, have a nice, boring life. Kiss my ass and leave my woman the hell alone.

His email to T-Bone was more personal. He mentioned the need to move on, yet stay near the ocean. Even joked about joining the navy or the coast guard if he were younger. T-Bone would get a charge out of that. Only one person remained to reply to—Buck “the man” Gallagher. While he told his father he was looking for another position as a fireman, he also stated he was not considering government work ever again. He asked about his mom and Grandpa Hudson.

Once he finished that email, he went into his bedroom and stripped the sheets and tossed them in the washer. Sleeping with Cassie’s fragrance on his bedclothes was more torture than he could handle. For now, his focus had to be keeping her safe.

CHAPTER TEN

Cassie rotated her shoulders after settling on a stool at Ryder’s Healthy Café and tried to ignore the aches in her leg muscles and feet. It had been a long day at the beauty shop with next to zero time to sit. The manager wielded a pair of scissors in one hand and a whip in the other, too often forgetting the stylists were human beings with legs and backs that throbbed if they didn’t have a chance to rest. Just five minutes with one’s feet propped up worked wonders.

Working for someone else wasn’t as rewarding as having her own business; thank goodness it was only temporary. Repairs to the strip mall where a fire had gutted Cassie’s Wolf Den salon ten days after her grand opening were progressing. The debris was finally cleaned out. The rafters and roofing replaced. Exterior walls and insulation were to go in this week and then electricians would come to install new wiring—a welcome upgrade since faulty wiring had been the cause of the blaze.

She’d found some cool shampoo and station chairs on eBay at a fraction of the cost of new. Mirrors and counters were on order, as were myriad small, yet essential items. If all went according to her timeline, she’d be cutting hair in her own shop in less than sixty days.

Time seemed to control all facets of her life right now. Her business. Quinn.

“Want your usual, baby doll?” Ryder leaned his muscled forearms on the counter. Fluorescent lighting glistened on his bald head, glinted off the gold ring in his brown earlobe. She nodded and he reached for the blender to fill the pitcher with ingredients for a strawberry-blueberry smoothie.

“Yes, something to calm me down. Some moron driving a black crotch-rocket nearly ran me down in the mall’s parking lot.”

“You don’t say.”

“I think he followed me here. Whizzed past me when I got out of my car, stared at me through his dark helmet. Gave me the willies.” She jerked her thumb toward the street. “I think he pulled into the parking lot of Gulfside Treasures.”

“Jest a sec, while I have a look-see.” Ryder stalked toward the door and opened it, stepping out onto the sidewalk. The drone of the bike whined up the street, showing off. Ryder chuckled when he came back inside. “Probably just some young buck, checkin’ you out. Quinn joinin’ you?”

“No. He’s packing to move.”

Ryder scooped in blueberries. “No shit? Really? He buy a condo? A house?”

She shook her head, wishing that were true. A house for both of them to go with a set of wedding rings and bridal china. “No, he turned in his notice at the fire station. He’s leaving Clearwater.”

“What?” The café owner’s dark eyes widened. He pressed the lid on the pitcher before crossing his arms. “Why?”

“Me.” She lifted a shoulder and yanked a paper napkin from the chrome holder. “Us.” She wrapped the napkin tightly around her index finger. “Our friendship took a turn and he got spooked.” The napkin remained coiled when she slid it off her finger.

“So, he finally admitted to his feelings where you’re concerned.” Ryder’s remark was a statement, not a question. He set the pitcher in the power unit of the blender and depressed a button.

A brash whirring assaulted her ears for a few seconds. Ryder made a skewer of orange, lemon and strawberry slices, shaking his head as he worked. Once the blender quieted, he poured the concoction into a large glass and plopped in the fruit garnish. After setting the drink in front of her, he wiped his hands on a white rag. “Never figured him to run like some scared virginal bitch. Got to be somethin’ else goin’ on, baby doll. Gots to be.”

“He won’t really give me a reason why.” She ripped the napkin in half. “Generalities. Vague bullshit.” The napkin was torn again and again. “He claims he’s not worthy of me.” Her nervous fingers flayed the pieces into finer ones, much like Quinn had shredded her heart. She blinked back tears and reached for her drink, the cold fruity mixture soothing the burn at the back of her throat.
I will not cry. I won’t.

“Hold on a sec.” Ryder called to his waitress and made some hand signals she seemed to understand, then strode around the bar and sat on the stool next to Cassie. “Business is slow today. My main girl can handle the place while we talk. Looks to me like you need a shoulder.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’re in a world of hurt, aren’t you, baby doll?”

Wolf had introduced her to this gentle giant soon after her brother left the SEALs. Ryder was an ex-SEAL, too, trained in surveillance, yet for all the menace his rough exterior implied, the man was gooey chocolate on the inside.

“He’s the only man I’ve ever loved. I don’t know what I’ll do after he leaves.”

“Bad thing is you two have been datin’ for years and were too damn dumb to realize it. Hell, you went everywhere together.”

“We’re best friends. Or were. Now that I all but forced myself on him, he won’t even look at me.” She wiped her tears and laughed at the same time. “Guess that was TMI, huh?”

Ryder snatched some napkins from the holder and blotted her face. “I see how he looks at you. Better yet, I see how he scowls at any man who looks your way. He’s damn possessive where you’re concerned. I can’t get over his leavin’.” He waved the waitress over. “Hand me a bottle of water, sweetness, and fix us a plate of cheese and nuts. My friend, here, and I have some heavy talkin’ to do. Can you handle the place for thirty minutes or so? I’ll let you off early.”

“Sure.” The blonde beamed a smile and passed him a cold bottle of Evian.

“Let’s move to someplace more private.” Ryder led her to the empty booth in the corner, sat and snapped off the lid before he guzzled a long drink. “Okay. Tell me what you feel comfortable sharin’. Maybe together we can figure out what’s promptin’ him to leave town. ʼCause this is the last mother-effing thing I expected.”

While they sipped their drinks and nibbled from the food tray the waitress set on their table, Cassie shared the major points that had happened since her birthday between her and the man she loved. Talking to someone who knew Quinn was a great relief. She could have never told Wolf or Jace she’d given her virginity to Quinn. Never. Her brothers, especially Wolf, would have torn Quinn apart, limb from muscled limb.

Ryder ran a wide palm over his bald head. “Somethin’ else is goin’ on here.” He curled his hand into a fist and tapped his stomach. “This whole leavin’ town business just ain’t sittin’ right. It unsettles my gut.” His head tilted to the side. “What was Quinn before he came here? He’s not ex-military, but he’s got a wariness about him. Tries too hard to be a funny guy. Not that his ass isn’t comical as hell at times.”

“How can you tell if someone was or wasn’t in the military?” She stuck the skewer into her mouth and pulled off the succulent fruit.

Ryder gave a wave of his open hand. “By the way they hold themselves. Their walk. The habits the military drills into you.” He popped a cube of cheese in his mouth and chewed. “No, he’s more the CIA type or FBI. Maybe he’s on some kinda long-term undercover assignment.”

She’d just taken a sip of her smoothie and choked. “CIA? Undercover? Not Quinn. That’s nuts.” Wasn’t it? The thought took hold and niggled at her gut. “What if he has a wife somewhere? What if I’m in love with a married man?”
My god, what if I had a married man’s cock in my mouth…or inside me?

Ryder’s hand covered hers. “Calm down, baby doll. Don’t go borrowing trouble. He’s been here for three years. That’s a long time to be away from a wife and family. Did he ever take long vacations? Or wasn’t where he told you he’d be?”

She shook her head. “No. He’s constantly been open in that regard. We were often in and out of each other’s apartments and usually without advance notice.”

He scooped a handful of nuts in his big palm and gestured toward her with his hand. “Then I’d venture a guess he doesn’t have a wife or another woman stashed somewhere. I’m just curious as to what kind of work he did before he moved here.”

“I always figured he was a fireman wherever he’d lived before. He graduated from Harvard. I’ve seen the diploma hanging on his wall. I know his parents live in DC.” What else did she know about his past? Not much. He was an only child, which was why he claimed to enjoy the loud madness of her family. His mother taught music at American University, and he spoke of her with great fondness. Mentions of his father were sparse and cold, as if there were strong tensions between them. But, beyond those few things, she knew nothing.

“See?” Ryder’s eyes narrowed. “A Harvard grad workin’ as a fireman? Don’t compute.” Both hands rose in an openly defensive move. “Not that there’s a damn thing wrong with bein’ a fireman. God bless ʼem all, but Harvard doesn’t exactly offer Firefightin’ 101, if you catch my drift.” He leaned toward her. “So what happened between his college graduation and the day he rolled into Clearwater? We find that out and we find out what’s makin’ him hightail his ass outta here, ʼcause, baby doll, it ain’t you.”

His words made her cry in relief and tense up with concern at the same time. “You don’t think it’s me? Really?” She swiped at her tears.

“Hell, no. That man would kill for you. Would lay down his life for you.” He stared at her for a few seconds. “You got anything that belongs to him? At your apartment or in your car? Things you oughta return before he leaves?”

“Ah…I have a pair of his swim fins and an old Madonna CD. Why?”

Ryder laughed. “Let me make a quick call. Is he off duty tonight?”

“Yeah.” She placed her hand over his cell phone. “Who are you calling? What are you up to?” He fought a smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth, and it didn’t exactly give her the warm and fuzzies. Maybe because pure evil glinted in his gaze.

“Was just thinkin’ you oughta have an escort when you return his stuff.” A chuckle bubbled forth. “An escort every bit as macho and good lookin’ as Quinn. Yup, more I think on it, the better I like the idea. Man, I’d love to be a fly on the wall to see this. I’m callin’ my godson, Micah. He was Green Berets. Runs his own gym now.” He expelled laughter and shook his head. “Hell, Quinn’s gonna be so damn pissed. Meanwhile, you think of the sexiest outfit you’ve got to wear.”

“Are you kidding? The last time I wore my red leather skirt, Quinn nearly went bonkers.”

“Then that’s the one to wear tonight, baby doll. ʼCause he’s gonna be all over you. Got some fuck-me heels?” His forehead wrinkled and quirked where there should have been an eyebrow. “Better still. Any thigh-high leather boots? The ones with stiletto heels? Man, they are instant boner-birthers for a guy.” He cleared his throat and winked. “Got a pair?”

“My roommate has a pair, but her shoe size is bigger than mine.”

“Don’t matter. Stuff ʼem with tissues or newspapers or somethin’.”

She slipped her purple mobile from her purse and started composing a can-I-borrow-your-boots text. Meanwhile, nervousness churned in her stomach like the surf with a hurricane approaching. “I’m not so sure I like this idea. I’m not one for playing games.”

Ryder held his black cell to his ear with one beefy hand and waved the other as if to erase her objections. “Hell, all of life is a game, baby doll. I’m tellin’ you, that man of yours will be like a man possessed when he sees you with my godson. Quinn’ll drag you off, caveman style.” Ryder winked. “Trust me.” He turned his attention to his phone. “Micah? Got an hour you can spare your Uncle Ryder tonight?”

Two hours later, Micah eased his black Escalade into Quinn’s apartment complex, slowing to coast over the traffic bumps. The firecracker nerves that had moved into Cassie’s stomach hadn’t ceased their quivering and sparking since the second she left Ryder’s Café. She glanced at the handsome man next to her, his thick wrist draped nonchalantly over the steering wheel. His head was shaved bald like Ryder’s and sported a tribal tattoo over half of his scalp. More ink decorated his arms. The tense set of his jaw said he was ready for battle if the situation called for it.

Oh, this was so not good.

More pyrotechnics exploded in her stomach, sending acid up her throat and tingles down her limbs to her tissue-stuffed, booted feet.

Damn the fireworks!

They’d sizzled and made her tremble as she’d shaved in the shower. Had she known what lay ahead of her tonight, she’d have undergone a Brazilian bikini wax at the shop. But how was she to know Ryder would talk her into pushing Quinn a little closer to the ledge? If things worked out the way Ryder claimed, and Quinn took her to bed, she wanted to give him a little surprise. One of her clients claimed her honey loved a bald hootchie. Would Quinn? By damn she’d soon find out. With his foolhardy plans to leave, this might be her last chance to convince him to stay. She had to give tonight her best effort—it would be balls to the wall seduction.

Once she’d blotted her skin dry from her shower, she slathered on her signature peaches and cream body lotion as the emotional fireworks continued to pop and detonate. The only soothing thing she had to apply over her freshly shaven labia was fuchsia-infused aloe gel.

Pinwheels of excitement lit up her system as she’d slithered into her red leather skirt and buttoned her black blouse, shoving the tails beneath the waistband with trembling hands. She was going to deliberately make Quinn jealous and then seduce him with her sexiest black lingerie and her bald “hootchie”.
Oh God, this better work.

Her doorbell rang just as she’d zipped up what Ryder called “boner-birther boots”.

Micah’s expression when she’d opened the door had been priceless—pure flattery, yet predatory. “Damn. Uncle Ryder’s talked about Baby Doll for years, but I had no clue what a baby doll you’d be.”

“And I had no clue you’d be Irish and full of blarney.” She winked and he laughed. “Hold on, let me grab Quinn’s things I’m returning.” She bent over to retrieve the yellow flippers and CD from the sofa. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Micah adjust himself.
Gee, maybe I should invest in a pair of these boner-birther boots.

“Which building is his,
bébé
?”

His question as he drove through Quinn’s apartment complex jarred her out of her reverie. Cassie unbuttoned the top three buttons on her blouse for the second time. “The second unit on the right. See the U-Haul trailer backed into the parking space?” Making Quinn jealous on purpose was such a high school tactic; she was beyond that. Besides, what if it didn’t work? Did she want his last memory of her to be one of her making a complete fool of herself? Her fingers rose to re-button her top.

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