Opposites Attract (12 page)

“
Because
I just met him, that’s why.” Amy didn’t mention
that she may have considered it, had the offer been made, which it
hadn’t.

“
Are
you sure it isn’t because he saw the anal compulsive way you
take your coffee?”

“
Yes,
I’m sure.” She’d already set up her cup before he
came in. “Besides, Troy’s a gentleman.”

Henri
rolled his eyes. “Of course he is.”

Amy
decided arguing with Henri wasn’t worth the effort and instead
started to sort through the laundry Troy had just delivered. She was
about to rib Henri some more about his inability to hold his
Cosmopolitans when her hand struck her bra and thong underwear buried
in the bottom of the basket.

She’d
forgotten exactly what she’d thrown in the wash. Besides, she’d
never intended for Troy to unload the machine anyway, she’d
just lost track of time. She held one in each hand, appalled and
speechless.

“
Well,
well. Those aught to put a fire in your gentleman’s pants.”
Unfortunately Henri was never without the power of speech, but this
time, Amy hoped Henri was right.

Pushing
the embarrassment aside, she decided she wouldn’t mind lighting
a fire under the hunky fireman one bit.

Chapter 4

He
must be crazy. That was the only thought in Troy’s mind as he
stood again hours later at Amy’s, or rather Maria’s door.
He pushed the doorbell with his elbow since his hands were currently
occupied carrying a very hot pot full of chili.

What
the hell was it about this girl that she drew him like a magnet? The
attraction had to stem from the fact that he couldn’t have her.
Yeah, that was it. As long as he kept in mind that they were just two
buddies hanging out and sharing a meal, he’d be fine. He and
Maria had become friends. They hung out together now and then. No
problems there.

He
laughed at himself. He’d also never fondled Maria’s
undergarments in the laundry room or imagined ripping them off her
the way he did with Amy. Amy, who now opened the door with a smile of
genuine happiness at seeing him.

Just
a friend, just a friend
… He repeated the mantra to
himself.

“
Hi.
Come on in. What have you got there?”

She’d
changed into some sort of silky flowing outfit that clung in all the
right places in a way that was somehow even sexier than the tight
clothes she’d been wearing earlier. He took a breath to steady
himself.

“
Hey.
I, uh, made too much chili and was hoping you would help me eat it.”

“
Wow,
a man who cooks. I’m impressed. Here, put it down on the stove.
It looks heavy.”

Troy
laughed. “Don’t be too impressed. We take turns cooking
down at the firehouse. I can pretty much cook anything that can be
made in a big pot and feed a dozen hungry guys. I just haven’t
figured out how to cook for just one person yet.”

“
I’ll
be happy to help you eat it. Sometimes I get so involved in reading
submissions I forget to take a break for meals.” She opened the
fridge. “Maria doesn’t have any beer, but there are a
couple of bottles of wine here that she told me I was welcome to.
Want some?”

What
he needed was a good stiff drink to knock this attraction right out
of him, but wine would have to do. “Sure.”

Amy
had just located the corkscrew when Troy walked over and took both
the bottle and opener out of her hand. “Here, let me do that.”

Wow.
What was this guy doing alone? A man this great shouldn’t have
to cook for just one. Maybe he wasn’t alone—the horrid
thought struck her. Maybe he had a girlfriend somewhere. She’d
never asked him but he seemed to spend a lot of time alone in his
apartment for a man with a girlfriend.

She
pondered this as she took the glass he offered and took a big
swallow, which went directly to her head since she’d forgotten
to eat lunch. Better get some of that chili into her belly to sop up
the wine. “Thanks. Let me find the bowls.”

He
held up a hand. “You sit. I’ll serve us.”

A
smile spread across her face as she shoved aside any unpleasant
thoughts that he might already be taken and began to picture what her
future with him would be like. Domestic bliss, hot sex, good
food…what else could a girl wish for?

He
found not only the bowls, but also raided Maria’s fridge for
topping ingredients and in just minutes, served up steaming chili
covered with cheddar cheese and sour cream, garnished with chopped
scallions and a side of tortilla chips. Wow, how hot was that? And
she wasn’t thinking about the chili. She took another mouthful
of wine.

They
both ate way too much and ended up sprawled on the couch. The wine
was making Amy feel boneless as she allowed her head to loll back
lazily against the sofa’s arm, her bare, pedicured feet up on
the cushion just barely touching the side of Troy’s jean-clad
thigh.

“
Troy,
tell me a secret. Something you’ve never told anyone else,
ever.” It was a game she often played with her girlfriends back
home, before she moved here to the city for her job. She missed home.
She missed those friends she’d lost contact with over the
years.

He
looked thoughtful for a moment, leaning back in a relaxed pose with
both arms stretched out along the back of the couch. He turned his
head to look at her. His eyes looked like he’d had enough wine
to be as relaxed as she felt, unless it was just a food coma.

“
You
really want to know?” Troy asked.

“
Yes.”
More than anything.

“
Okay.”
He drew in and released a long, slow breath. “Last year a
building collapsed on one of the guys, Antonio Sanchez. He’s
married, got two beautiful kids. I pulled him out in time, but just
barely. Ever since then I’m afraid. Every time I go into a fire
I’m afraid, not of dying, but of having left nothing behind if
I don’t make it out one day. I don’t want to be nothing
but a name engraved on the plaque of fallen brothers on the wall of
the firehouse.”

Amy
felt the tears sting her eyes and reached up to touch his hand. She
shook her head. “You wouldn’t be. You would leave
something behind. You would live on in the hearts of every person
you’ve ever touched. Do you think Antonio’s family could
ever forget you after what you did for them? That they would ever let
your memory die?”

He
squeezed her hand, as his own eyes looked suspiciously shiny. “Your
turn. Now you tell me something you’ve never told anyone else.”

“
I
went to a sperm bank the other day.” She hadn’t told
anyone else in the world about that.

Troy’s
eyes opened wide. “Did you actually…um, make a
withdrawal?”

She
shook her head, “No, but I did look through the books of donors
and I made a pact with myself that if I’m not in a serious
relationship by the time I turn thirty-five, I’m just going to
do it. I’m going to have a baby alone.”

“
Wow.
You’re how old now?”

No
use hiding it. “I turned thirty this year.”

“
That’s
why you’re feeling weird. Turning thirty is harder on women
than on men. It almost sent my sister over the edge.”

“
I
guess.” She shrugged.

“
When
was your last serious relationship?”

She
laughed bitterly at that. “If I tell you, you’re really
going to think I’m a loser. Whitney and I broke up about a year
ago. There hasn’t been anyone serious since then.”

“
Whitney?”
Troy asked. “Like in Whitney Houston, the singer?”

“
Yeah,
same name but no, it wasn’t Whitney Houston.” She laughed
again. Poor Whitney had always been confused for a girl on paper
because of his name—the bastard.

Amy
thought back to the day Whitney Charles Bennington III had informed
her she wasn’t marriage material, dropped her on the curb and
drove away in his snazzy sports car. She’d been good enough for
him to sleep with during their year-long relationship, she just
wasn’t good enough to marry. She was glad his parents had
saddled him with a girly name. He deserved it.

Troy
shook his head. “I still don’t get why you’re so
convinced you’re going to be alone in five years. I mean you’re
great.” When she shook her head in protest, he continued. “I’m
serious. You’re smart, funny, beautiful, a great friend. Anyone
who doesn’t want to be with you is crazy.”

He
was being so sweet and she was feeling so insecure at the moment,
tears started to blur her eyes.

“
Oh,
no. Don’t cry. I’m sorry.” Troy leaned forward and
brushed her cheek with his fingertips.

With
his lips so close to hers and with the wine and her emotions calling
the shots, she couldn’t help herself. She closed the distance
between them and brushed her lips over his.

She
heard his quick intake of breath and then felt his big hands envelop
her face. He kissed her back and when she opened her mouth slightly
in silent invitation, he accepted. The warmth of his tongue melted
what little reserve she had left. She wanted him like she’d
never wanted anything else in her life. She wrapped her hands around
the back of his head, surprised at how soft his cropped hair felt,
then pulled him closer.

He
kissed her hard and deep until she lost all track of time. Then he
suddenly backed away and dropped his hands from her face. She missed
the heat of his contact immediately. He launched himself off the
couch so quickly, she nearly fell into the dip he’d left in the
cushion.

“
I
have to go.”

Of
everything he could have said, that was the last thing she expected.
What had just happened? The questions and doubts sailed through her
mind. Was she too aggressive? Did he have a girlfriend? Were all
those sweet things he said just to make her feel better even though
he didn’t mean them?

She
wanted to beg him not to leave, ask him why he didn’t want her
and tell him how much she wanted him. But instead all she said was,
“Oh. All right.”

He
was out the door in an instant, leaving behind both his pot of chili
and her to cool off without him. Amy leaned against the door and
hugged her arms tightly around herself, more confused, alone and
insecure than she’d felt in a long time.

Across
the hall inside his own apartment, Troy leaned back and let his head
fall hard against the door. He stared at the white ceiling and
berated himself.

He’d
pretty much done everything wrong, starting with going over there to
begin with. Followed closely by letting Amy drink too much wine after
she’d told him she hadn’t eaten all day, getting her
upset by prying into her last relationship, then the topper, kissing
her. And not just a friendly “feel better” kind of peck
on the lips either. Oh, no. He had gone in for the full tongue
probing, head grabbing, one step closer to ripping her clothes off
kind of kiss.

She
must have been drunker than he thought, since he was sure she was as
into that kiss as he. He ran a hand over his smooth chin thoughtfully
and paused, then considered why he’d chosen to shave prior to
going to Amy’s that night. He never shaved on his days off.

God,
he hadn’t let himself consider it, but he must have hoped on
some level that something would happen between them, even as the
evidence that she didn’t date men mounted higher before his
very eyes. The newest knock-you-over-the-head clues being her
ex-girlfriend Whitney and the visit to the sperm bank.

What
an idiot. He was just asking for heartache thinking he could change
her. A broken heart was the last thing he wanted. Not at this stage
in his life. He had a job he loved, a great apartment and a few women
friends who he could call if he felt the need for human companionship
for a night, no strings.

Lesbian
or not, he didn’t need the emotional upheaval that would come
with falling in love with Amy. If he wasn’t careful, that’s
what would happen. One dinner with her and he was confessing his
deepest and darkest fears, the thing he’d never even told his
best friend, the thing he barely admitted to himself. Best to avoid
her as much as possible.

With
that resolution made, he blew out a breath filled with sheer
frustration. His mind may know Amy was a lesbian and there was no
hope for them, but other parts of his anatomy weren’t quite so
quick. He headed for the shower to deal with them.