"Look at the couple over there by the window. The guy in the new suit and the girl in a dress that went out of style five years ago."
He glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah?"
"She's a plain person; he's unattractive. He's looking up."
"Bad for her, right?"
"Maybe. At least he's making an effort to dress nice. Oh. Look at those two who just came in. Both definitely beautiful people."
Seth looked and jolted. “Damn, that's the girl who gave me her phone number."
"I see she's not pining away waiting for you to call,” Lauren said a bit sharply to counter the sudden pain in her heart. The woman was a bombshell in every sense of the word. Lauren didn't know why she should be surprised. That was Seth's regular type.
"She won't recognize me without my hat,” he said, like a fervent prayer.
"Fireman Seth.” The woman stopped at the table, laid a perfectly manicured hand on his broad shoulder and looked at Lauren, openly assessing, and finding wanting. Lauren determined not to squirm in her khakis and button-down shirt with the badly ironed crease down the back. “I'm glad you got us out of that elevator in time for supper."
Seth leaned back in his chair, effectively breaking contact but Lauren saw him turn on the charm. “So, damsel-in-distress Angela, you like Italian."
"As you would have known if you'd called."
Seth glanced around Angela at her date, a handsome nervous type, a suit who scanned the room. Why wasn't he paying attention to his date while she was touching Seth? Was he used to it? Did he even care? Was he looking for someone else?
"Is this your little wife?” the bombshell asked.
Lauren bristled.
"Girlfriend,” Seth said, and she saw that he was as surprised to say the word as she was to hear it.
"Mm. Serious?"
"Maybe.” Was he using her as a pawn in some game with this woman?
"So I guess I shouldn't've told her you took my number."
"No, she'll probably be kinda upset by that.” Again he looked at her companion, who had moved forward to put a hand at the small of Angela's back. Lauren got the feeling it was less of a possessive move than a move to hurry her along. “Is this your boyfriend?"
"Fiancé."
Seth's face darkened, and he stumbled over his words. “Then I guess he'll be a little upset knowing you gave it to me."
"Probably.” She turned without taking her eyes from Seth, tucked her hand through her fiancé's arm and strolled away.
"She's almost married and she's coming onto you?” Lauren asked incredulously. God, what was wrong with the world? She should be grateful she wasn't in a relationship if that was how they ended up. It was actually amazing her parents had made it thirty years. “In front of her fiancé?"
"Well, that certainly wasn't the point I expected you to jump on.” He turned his attention back to his spaghetti. “It's not like I knew."
"But geez, she found you attractive enough that she considered cheating."
"Lauren, if she was going to do it with me, I probably wasn't the first. Or only."
"But her fiancé was gorgeous. Why would she want anyone else?"
"Slumming.” He stirred the melting ice in his soft drink.
"What?"
"No matter what popular opinion is about firefighters now, we're still blue collar.” He tugged at his shirt collar. “All brawn, no brain. It gives them a thrill."
She'd never heard Seth so self-deprecating. “I guess it's my turn to say, they don't know what they're missing, huh?"
"We're a pair,” he said with a small laugh, probably afraid he'd already revealed way too much of his insecurity tonight.
"So, ah, the girlfriend remark, that was to chase her away?” she asked cautiously, not sure she wanted to hear the answer. God, why had she even asked?
"It put us on even footing."
Only she wasn't sure if he meant him and Angela or him and Lauren. “Are you ready to go?"
He glanced up, a little surprised. “All right.” He paid and then took her arm as they walked out. Had he always touched her so casually, or had she just become aware of it? She couldn't imagine not ever having been aware of the warmth, that little buzz of pleasure that radiated from his hand.
Watching that woman come on to him stung even though she'd seen it happen countless times since he was fifteen. Never before had her stomach coiled and writhed. She'd resigned herself years ago to settle for his friendship. What had changed to make her think of him as a man and not her best friend? Was it the full body tackle? No, that couldn't be it—she always knew he had a penis and muscles, lying on top of her hadn't revealed that information. The way he'd taken care of her when she was hurt? No, most of that had been guilt.
The image that kept coming back was Seth in the ER helping the little girl who'd almost drowned. He'd been Focused Seth, Sure Seth, at once compassionate and efficient. She'd seen a different man in the ER that day, a man, a grown-up, not the boy she always goofed around with. Watching his confident movements, his unwavering effort to save the child's life, reached down into the part of her that she'd buried, the part that nurtured the hope Seth would one day love her as she loved him.
But what had changed with him?
Lauren's uncharacteristic silence as they rode back to the house in his truck made Seth uneasy. Damn, she wasn't thinking, was she? They'd been having a lively, if confusing, conversation before Angela. And after, well, Lauren hadn't said much. He kept going back to that tier thing she'd been talking about. He figured that was where her mind was. What made her think she wasn't good enough for him, anyway?
Well, yeah, okay, he'd gone out with some gorgeous women, drop-dead beautiful women, probably more than his fair share. But none of those relationships—if he could call them relationships—had lasted a month. He was not a long-term guy, not by any stretch of the imagination. It apparently was in his genes.
Lauren had at least had one long-term serious relationship, so she knew how to stick. God knew she was smarter than him by a long shot. She was out of his league. He needed to remember that. If he hurt her, and he would, he'd lose her forever, and he couldn't risk it. She was too important to him.
"So what tier do you see yourself on?” he asked finally.
She whipped around to face him. “What?"
"You clearly don't see yourself as one of the beautiful people. Where do you rank yourself?"
"I'm definitely a plain person."
"You're definitely an idiot,” he countered, pulling in front of her house.
He walked her to the door, needing to make sure she was steady on that leg. She fumbled with her keys before unlocking the door, and apprehension at her continued silence made him shift from one foot to the other. Could she feel the vibe coming off him?
He leaned in and reached for they keys as he would for a date, getting a good whiff of her flowery shampoo, the one he'd smelled so strongly in the bathroom. Just the scent brought the memory back, and he sniffed again. She turned and pulled the keys out of his reach, looking at him like he was crazy.
"Um, you want me to wrap your knee again?” he asked, leaning on the doorjamb.
She turned a fascinating shade of red and shook her head. “I'm sure I'll be fine."
"It's no trouble.” He tried to edge past her into the house, but she blocked him. That was new and different. Why didn't she want him to come in? Was she like this with all her dates? Maybe that's why she didn't have many.
Wait. Date was the wrong word. They weren't on a date here. That would imply something more than friendship.
"I've got to get to the office early tomorrow,” Lauren said, talking faster than she could move. “Lots to do before Christmas. Thanks for dinner. Good night."
She stumbled into the house and closed the door in his face. He blinked at the sudden move, and walked back to his car, confused as hell.
Lauren leaned against her door and squeezed her eyes shut. Okay, that had been pretty rude. She just didn't have the wits to explain to Seth that she didn't want him to touch her again, that she didn't want him thinking of her as a patient while she craved the accidental brush of his fingers on her skin. She couldn't bear the thought of him teasing her when she wanted him kissing her. And she couldn't think of him kissing her when she knew it would destroy their relationship.
She couldn't be with him when she felt this vulnerable. She had to be alert at all times, lest he find out her real feelings. She wouldn't make that mistake again.
Lauren sat in the audience at Seth's gig Friday night and wondered why she'd come. More to the point, why was she sitting here, totally mesmerized by his fingers moving over the guitar strings with such dexterity? She hadn't heard a note played, or a word Hilary, her partner-in-crime—Seth's term—said. Why was she torturing herself by even considering what those fingers would feel like on her skin?
She didn't want things to change; she'd certainly had enough of that in the past few weeks, and Seth was her constant.
So what was this jealousy she felt when the band took a break and females swarmed the stage before Seth even set his guitar down? What was this pain in her gut when he stepped down right into the middle of the posing, smiling women? What was this fury when one of them stroked a bold hand down his arm, when he gifted another with his devilish smile and a wink?
Then he extracted himself in a way that left them wanting more and made his way toward Lauren and Hilary. A sense of hopelessness she hadn't felt in years washed over Lauren. No way could she compete with the thrill he got from that adoration.
He slid into the chair beside her, the action sliding the chair closer to her. God, he looked delicious as he leaned back to order a beer from a waitress who swayed off to do his bidding. His skin was damp from the stage lights, his wavy hair plastered to his scalp, curled against his forehead. His already snug t-shirt clung to his chest and arms. He gifted Hilary with the full wattage of his smile, then looked at Lauren.
"Glad y'all could make it,” he said, as if he hadn't thought she would.
"A gah gah gah,” Hilary said with the usual coherence she displayed around Seth.
He gave her a quizzical look and plucked Lauren's beer from her hand for a swig. “How's the knee?"
She shrugged. “Not dance-worthy, that's for sure."
"Then you have an excuse for not being surrounded by guys."
Was he giving her permission to be unpopular? Her knee wasn't keeping guys at bay, she was pretty sure it was her “stay away from me, I'm in love with the way wrong guy” expression.
"I'll let you be the center of attention tonight,” she said with forced humor as women made a point of passing by their table to smile invitingly at him. No doubt he'd accept one of their invitations after the show. Seth Escamilla didn't go home alone unless he wanted to.
He laughed and looked at her through heavy lidded eyes. “Variety is the spice of life."
"Says he who only eats at Whataburger and only drinks Bud."
"It's also good to have stability."
"You are so skewed. It's supposed to be one woman, many restaurants.” She fell into the rhythm of their repartee with some sense of relief. At least that hadn't changed, even though the subject they discussed made her woozy.
"At least I'm still going out to restaurants,” he said with a lifted brow.
"I—go out,” she stammered, embarrassed.
"You let one guy ruin your appetite. Maybe you need one guy to bring it back."
He jumped up when a trill on the drums called him back to the stage, and he walked backwards, his eyes still on her. He grabbed his beer from the waitress on the way and saluted Lauren with it while she stared, slack jawed, trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about, afraid she knew exactly what he meant.
Damn. Why had he gone and said something like that out loud? Just because she'd been in his dreams every night since he wrapped her knee didn't mean her feelings about him had changed. He didn't know what he was thinking anyway. He was the way wrong guy for her. Just because he couldn't get her out of his mind didn't mean he was a one woman man, and he couldn't hurt her like that.
He saw even now his words had stunned her. He'd joke it off next break.
But by the next break, Lauren and Hilary were long gone.
Lauren strode into the firehouse the following day, dressed to the nines in her favorite black sweater, skirt and boots, none of which quite met the other piece of clothing. She was tired of feeling less than beautiful, and needed the ego boost.
Plus she needed money from her father.
She headed toward Mitch's office, her head down, hair swinging forward to hide her smile of triumph as yummilicious firefighters stopped what they were doing to follow her progress. Yep, she felt better already. She tried to make her scan for Seth less obvious.
Mitch sat behind his desk, buried in paperwork, and he looked up with a frown when she walked in and perched on the corner. His expression softened almost immediately, and he rose to hug her. “What are you doing here?"
"Going shopping for Crystal's wedding present. You promised me some cash if I did the dirty work.” She held out her hand, palm up.
He looked perplexed as he dug out his wallet. “Something's different about you."
"I'm wearing a skirt."
He took in the fact, scowling a bit at the length. “You aren't meeting your mother, are you?"
Lauren grimaced. “Crystal."
"You're going shopping with Crystal for her wedding gift?” He handed over two fifties.
"No, we have final fittings on the bridesmaid dresses today.” She tucked the money in her purse. “How expensive her gift is depends on how mad she makes me."
Mitch chuckled.
She glanced toward the door, gauging their privacy. No one was in the immediate vicinity, so she asked. “How are you holding up?"
He lifted a shoulder and edged back to his chair. Was he putting distance between them on purpose?
"Everything's different. You know, you're like me. Change is hard for us."