America's Bravest (28 page)

Beside Ryan, Felicia chose music while he
sipped his beer. “I kinda feel sorry for her.”

“Why? Callahan and Rossettie decided not to
use what we found out about her to dilute the blog.”

The chiefs didn’t want to stoop to Allen’s
level. And, they believed, it would look like they were bullying
her. Besides, Ryan knew both men had integrity, and slandering a
woman because she was calling things like she saw them wasn’t in
their genes.

“Maybe. She seems…alone.”

Ramirez wandered over to them. “Hey,
guys.”

“Tony.” Felicia glanced around. “Where’s
Sophia? I saw her at the game.” His beautiful wife was quiet on the
sidelines though. Usually, she cheered like a banshee.

The guy’s handsome features tightened. A lot.
“She went home. We, um, shit, we had a fight.”

“Oh, dear.” Felicia put a hand on his
shoulder. She knew Ramirez’s family meant the world to him. “Want
to go sit somewhere and talk about it?”

“No, it’s old stuff. Now move your pretty
little ass while I play something.” When he gave them his back,
they
took that hint and walked away.

“Huh!” Felicia said.

“What?”

“I thought the Ramirez’s had a match made in
heaven.”

“All couples fight.”

“And you’d know this how?”

“I been in a relationship before.”

She poked him in the ribs. “I heard you live
by the Rule of Six.”

Ryan sputtered his beer all over his red
jersey. “Holy, shit, I don’t even…how did you…who told you about
that?”

“I overheard it at the firehouse. Pretty
sucky, O’Malley, if you ask me.”

“I don’t do that anymore.”

She counted on her fingers. “Well, we passed
the six day mark.”

“Really, Licia, it was mostly a joke.”

Arching a brow, she said, “You’re 34.
Nothing’s stuck.”

He gave her his best sexy smile. “Not
yet.”

“Don’t get carried away.”

“Wouldn’t think of it, babe.”

“I’m going to find my own kind.” She started
away, then turned back. “Um, what time? You know…to leave?”

Ah, that was a very good sign. She was
anxious to be alone with him. “Fifteen minutes.”

As he watched her go, he mumbled in his beer
bottle, “As I said, not nothing’s stuck, sweetheart.
Yet
!”

The text read:
We’re gonna mix it up.
Tonight. Seven. The Hidden Cove Hideaway
.

She typed into her phone:
What
room?

His response:
21. See you then
.

Felicia sighed from the kitchen of the
firehouse where she sat at the table. She’d been the first to
finish her chores and was waiting for the hour until training.
Confined space. That was a tough one.

Brody straggled in. Ever since he came back
to work and she caught a glimpse of him, she was startled by how
much he and Ryan looked alike. “Hey, Licia. How’s it going?”

“Great.” She put the phone away. As far as
she knew, Ryan hadn’t told Brody about their assignations. He’d
promised he wouldn’t but still, they were twins. And anyway,
Felicia didn’t trust men to keep their promises.

Her former fiancé, Tim, had promised he could
handle her job and deal with the stress of being in love with a
firefighter. It took him six months but eventually he confessed he
couldn’t cope with the fear and loneliness.

“You coming tonight?” Brody asked.

She cocked her head.

“The get-together at my place. It’s a thank
you to everybody for taking care of me when I got hurt with food
and visits.”

“Um, no. I forgot the date. I have
plans.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I can’t change them.” She
didn’t want to.

“Huh. Rye has plans, too, that he can’t get
out of.”

Uh-oh. “A hot date for Mr. I’m-Too-Sexy?”

Leaning back and propping his feet up on
another chair, Brody chuckled. “Yeah. I think so. He’s been happy
lately so I know he’s getting some. He doesn’t want to talk about
it, which weirds me out. Ryan never keeps his conquests to
himself.”

…must be getting some.

…never keeps his conquests to
himself.

The phrases bothered Felicia, even when the
training started. The drill was to crawl through a
three-foot-by-three foot circular pipe with the entrance and exit
covered after the trainee got inside. The exercise wasn’t easy.
Sydney Sands particularly had trouble with completing it. Last
year, she got trapped in a well and hadn’t been able to navigate
the pipe since then.

“Who wants to go first?” Gabe asked.

Sydney stepped forward. “I might as well get
my humiliation over with.”

“That’s no attitude to have, girl.” Ramirez
stepped up to her and pulled her aside. He whispered in her ear and
she giggled.

At the opening of the pipe, she dropped to
her knees and shimmied her shoulders into the sphere.

There were shouts of encouragement. Gabe
dropped the curtains at both ends.

“Go, girl.”

“Come on, babe.”

Felicia called out between cupped hands,
“Women can do this, Sydney. Don’t let us down.”

Ramirez headed to the other end of the pipe
and talked her halfway. Three quarters. And low and behold, the
young firefighter poked her head out the other end. Tony helped her
up and hugged her. So did the rest of them. Her face wreathed in
smiles, Syd was glowing with the big accomplishment.

It wasn’t until Felicia was halfway through
the pipe that she realized why she was bothered by Brody’s
comments. Though she’d asked for that—to keep their relationship on
the level of
getting some
—the cheapness of the statements
made her uncomfortable. Fuck, she couldn’t change her mind about
them together. She just couldn’t. Like being midway through the
pipe, you had to keep going and hoped you got through.

oOo

Ryan opened the door to suite 21 at the
Hidden Cove Hideaway on the end of the lake. He loved this little
inn with tons of privacy and a lot of amenities--like the roomy
balcony off the suite with a hot tub, the dining alcove in a set of
bay windows set for an intimate dinner and the huge bed against the
wall with mirrored ceilings. He lit a few of the many candles he
placed all over the room and inhaled the scent of vanilla. This was
a perfect place for a seduction. Only he wasn’t here for the same
kind of seduction as other people who booked suites.

Over that past few weeks, Ryan had become
certain he wanted a real relationship with Felicia. Not just sex.
And he’d decided to convince her to go along with it tonight. He
planned to bathe her in tenderness, gentle courtship and poignant
lovemaking. As he finished with the final touches, there was a
knock on the door.

When he opened it, she stood before him in a
pretty dress of purple and green with tan sandals on her feet. “You
look like a bunch of violets.”

Her face reddened. Then she said, “Don’t get
carried away, O’Malley.”

Kissing her nose first, he led her inside. In
the entrance, her eyes widened. “What’s all this?” She waved to
take in the candles placed all over the room, alongside fresh cut
daisies and daffodils.

“I’ve got spring on the brain.”

“Looks like you’re setting the mood for
seduction.” Turning to him, she looped her arms around his neck. “I
gotta tell you, lover boy, you don’t have to seduce me. That’s what
I’m here for.”

Sliding his arms around her waist, he tugged
her close. “Humor me.”

She sighed. “Whatever. I’m starved.”

There was another knock on the door. “Good,
because that’s room service.”

A waiter pushed a cart full of food inside
and rolled it next to the table in the bay. When he left, Felicia
sniffed. “The food smells heavenly. What is it?”

“Lobster, crab, asparagus, and a great bottle
of Cab.”

She grinned. “We never did get that dinner at
the Lakeside.”

“That night was better the way we spent it,
no?”

“Um, yeah.”

“And we have the exact food now.”

As they ate, the seafood was succulent, the
vegetable
al denté
and the wine dry. But mostly, Felicia
looked beautiful sitting across from him in the candle light, her
eyes sparkling. Her cheeks flushed. Her whole body relaxed.

He lifted his glass. “Shall we take this out
on the patio?”

“It might be cold for the end of April on the
lake.”

He grabbed fuzzy blankets off a table by the
sliding glass doors. “We’ll cuddle. There’s a chaise.”

Mellow now with the wine, Felicia agreed.
They snuggled on the big padded lounge-for-two, sipped wine and
talked. He got her to tell him about college, and he shared his own
exploits. He was surprised that she was editor of their literary
magazine and voted most valuable player of the tennis team her
senior year. Running his hand down her arm, testing her muscles, he
whispered, “You certainly are competent in a lot of sports.” He
leaned in closer. “Especially the one played on a king size
bed.”

His knuckles grazed her cheek. He traced the
scoop of her dress with his finger. But when she lifted her mouth
to his, he avoided a kiss—he knew it would lead them to bed.
Instead he drew her closer and cherished the feel of her tucked
into his chest. He told her about his and Brody’s college forays:
the time they doubled dated identical twins, when they initiated a
panty raid on a girls’ dorm down the road, the surprisingly
rigorous training at John Jay. After a while, he thrust off the
blankets, stood and pulled her up. “Time for a bath before you go
to bed, little girl.”

“Hmm.”

His fingers found the zipper at her back and
slowly released it. He slid the dress off her shoulders and it fell
to the ground, revealing a black thong and a why-bother bra that
had her breasts spilling out of it. “Oh, I must have been a very
good boy. Leave them on in the Jacuzzi.”

She tugged at the buttons of his gauzy shirt,
yanked it out of his pants and removed it. He kicked off his shoes
and slacks and underwear and stood naked before her. The air was
chilled but Ryan felt the heat rise in him. He took a moment to
toss their clothes inside, then he scooped her up, brought her to
the tub, and carefully walked in with her.

When he sat, he kept her settled her on his
lap, making sure her upper body was submerged. He traced the curve
of her jaw with his lips, massaged her shoulder, and rubbed her
waist gently below the water. It was hot and bubbly and he could
feel her relax in his arms.

Until he began to arouse her. Slowly. Light
brushes on her breasts, her abdomen, his big hand cupping her
mound. Then he slid a finger inside her thong and teased her. He
took his time, exploring, rubbing. She tried for more—contact,
pressure, activity. But he kept it subdued.

“Ryan, please, let’s go inside.”

“Stay here, then.” He sat her on the bench,
got out of the tub and returned carrying a fluffy white robe and
wearing one. When she stood, he helped her out and surrounded her
with it. “Oh, dear Lord in heaven, it’s warm.”

“There’s a heat light in the bathroom for
them.”

Carefully, he led her into the room to their
bed. They disrobed and slid under the covers together.

And then he began step three of his plan. He
started with kisses all over. She squirmed.

He trailed gentle fingers to all the intimate
places on her body. She shivered.

He turned her over, massaged her whole back
this time. Kissed her butt, behind her knees.

By the time he finished, she was mush. Only
then did put on a condom and slip inside her, once again gently,
drawing out the sensations of each thrust. Finally, nature overcame
nurture and he began to move faster. She orgasmed immediately.
Screamed his name. Swore. He held on and began again. After her
second climax, he followed her into oblivion.

oOo

At three in the morning, Felicia awoke with a
start. She was in the middle of a nightmare--Ryan was holding her
prisoner and she wore velvet handcuffs and a fluffy robe. He kept
saying, “You’re mine now.”

Frowning, she lay back on the pillow, trying
to figure out where the awful images had come from. As her eyes
focused in the dark, she could make out the table where they’d
eaten, see the chair on the deck where they’d lain together. She
heard the water in the hot tub bubble and blip. The vanilla candles
still scented the air.

What had he done to her last night? Quietly,
she slid of bed, grabbed her clothes from the chair and headed for
the bathroom. Turning on a small light, she stared at herself in
the mirror.
Oh, no!
Her hand covered her heart.
No,
please, not this
. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, please dear God, not
this
.

But no matter how much she protested, she
couldn’t lie as she stared at herself in the glass. She’d made the
huge,
huge
mistake of falling for Ryan O’Malley.

She shook herself. That wouldn’t do. It
simply wouldn’t. So as quickly as she could, she dressed, slipped
out of the bathroom, and headed for the door only to realize she
wasn’t wearing shoes. Retracing in her mind the path they took last
night she figured her sandals were on his side of the bed.

Deftly she retrieved them, but when she
turned, she got a glimpse of Ryan splayed out on the mattress. The
moonbeams highlighted his hair, and she could see the broad expanse
of his naked back, his biceps and hands that could be so
gentle.

Her heart ached so bad she was afraid she
might be having an attack. But still, whispering a quiet, “Goodbye,
Ryan,” she fled the room, the inn and the proximity of a man she
promised herself she would never, ever allow herself to love.

A breeze wafted off the lake as Ryan sat at a
picnic table and waited for Felicia to show up at Rachel’s condo.
She and Gabe were getting married—a decision made in part because
of Rachel’s accident. They said they didn’t want to waste their
time together.