Bold and Brave-Hearted Page 6

  “Assuming I had enough arm strength to climb something like that—which I don’t—I’d have to keep my eyes closed the whole time. I’m terrified of heights.”

  He frowned as he rolled the bottle of beer back and forth between his palms, and she realized her lack of athletic ability had disappointed him.

  “What do you do for fun?” he asked.

  “I read a lot. I just finished a biography of Saddam Hussein, which was fascinating. Really provided some insight about the strife in the Middle East.”

  “Seems to me the plot has to be pretty dull, just one war after another.”

  She marked a can of peas and placed it on the shelf next to some string beans. Beyond mutual physical attraction—which, for her part, was pretty sizzling—it didn’t sound like she and Jay had much in common. Somehow she should have suspected that.

  “I do a little sculpting, too,” she said softly, confident that wouldn’t strike a chord either.

  “I don’t know squat about art,” he admitted.

  She opened her mouth to offer to teach him the basics but realized someone who went scuba diving and rock climbing was more into physical activities than cerebral ones. The exact opposite of her own inclinations.

  Deep in her heart, the realization of their basic differences made her unreasonably sad.

  She owed him her help until his vision was restored. After that they’d go their separate ways again, just as they had in high school. In the meantime, he was good to look at and fun to be with, not a bad combination for a woman to enjoy as long as it lasted.

  Closing the cupboard door, she turned to Jay. “That’s about all the arranging I can do with your canned goods. Would you like me to go through your closet and organize your shirts and pants by color?”

  “What I’m wearing doesn’t match?”

  “White T-shirts are good.” Very sexy the way it gloved his broad chest, showing off his pecs and flat stomach. “But it’s possible you might want to wear something a little more formal from time to time. It would make things easier to find.”

  Taking a sip of beer, he appeared to give serious thought to her suggestion. “I suppose that would be one way to get you into my bedroom and from there we could—”

  “I’m volunteering to arrange your clothes, that’s all. Nothing extracurricular.” She didn’t dare imagine alternative activities in Jay’s bedroom, not when they popped so easily to mind.

  He gave her a wicked grin. “Darn, just my luck.”

  The moment she stepped into Jay’s bedroom, she had second thoughts about having volunteered for any project in such close proximity to his bed. The blankets were in a jumble, the sheets rumpled, making the king-size bed look like the scene of a wild orgy. She imagined all too clearly how an elementally physical man like Jay would create such chaos when he made love. There’d be no holding back. He’d give his all and the woman would have to respond with the same unbridled passion.

  Her heart beating hard and her mouth gone suddenly dry, she dragged her gaze away from the bed. Was she even capable of the ardent response he’d demand? Would she be enough of a woman to satisfy his potently masculine needs? Dear heaven, how she’d like to find out!

  Reaching blindly for the closet door, she pulled it open. To her surprise…and relief…she found Jay’s clothes amazingly well organized. Shirts were neatly hung by color, working their way from a few dress white shirts through light yellow, brown and finally to shades of blue. His pants were equally well organized.

  Even so, she couldn’t quite resist touching the smooth fabric of his shirts, inhaling the scent of his fabric softener. On him, his masculine aroma blended with these lighter scents, making the combination uniquely his own, a union she was beginning to crave.

  “You certainly don’t need my help here. Your closet looks more organized than mine does.”

  “I let you look at mine. Maybe one day you’ll let me look at yours.”

  His teasing double entendre slipped over her flesh with a feathery touch, chasing goose bumps down her spine.

  “Don’t count on it,” she said, stepping quickly away from the closet and wishing she could as easily escape her own unruly thoughts.

  Chapter Five

  Saturday morning arrived bright and sunny, which did little to ease Kim’s anxieties about attending the pancake breakfast at the fire station.

  Perversely, she wanted to see Jay again but not at the cost of being gawked at by all manner of stangers. People who might well recognize her. Stare at her. Pity her.

  Yet Jay was the one man she could be around without being self-conscious about her appearance. He made her feel feminine. Beautiful again. As unworthy as her need to feel attractive might be, her shattered ego longed for some semblance of normalcy.

  Besides, she rationalized, if she—or someone—didn’t watch out for Jay, who knew what kind of a crazy stunt he’d try next? What did it matter that they had little in common?

  She arrived at the fire station to find cars crowding the parking lot and lining the street; more than a hundred people milled around in the early-morning chill, most carrying paper plates stacked with pancakes. There were families with children of all ages and proud parents sitting at rows of tables with their firefighter sons. The fire engines had been drawn out onto the driveway, leaving the huge garage empty for the festivities.

  She almost lost her nerve. Her stomach knotted at the thought of facing half the town of Paseo del Real and her hands turned clammy. But before she could turn tail and run, one of Jay’s buddies walked up to her.

  “Hello, Kim, I’m glad you came.” A tall man with sandy-brown hair, he spoke in a soft voice but one that carried a certain authority without being overbearing. “Jay’s been looking for you.”

  Recognizing him from her prior visit to the station as the man who’d lingered in the background, she said, “You’re Logan, aren’t you?” The stickler for three squares a day.

  “Logan Strong. I’m one of the ladder-truck crew.” He looked pleased she’d remembered his name. “Jay’s out checking on Big Red.”

  “Big Red?” she echoed.

  “The fire truck we’re restoring. It’s a real classic. The city bought it in 1935, and it stayed in service till sometime in the sixties. They’ve housed it in the city yard since then.”

  “Oh, yes, the reason for the breakfast.”

  “Right.” His smile softened the rugged lines of his face. “You want me to show you the way?”

  A little panicked by the crowd, she glanced around in search of a graceful way to escape, keeping her head dipped to the side, her scarf securely in place.

  “He’d be real disappointed if he didn’t get a chance to say hello.”

  Evidently Logan Strong was something of a mind reader, guessing that she wanted to flee. But leaving wasn’t really an option. Not only had she promised Jay she’d be here, she’d sent tickets to her parents, too. They wouldn’t understand if they showed up and didn’t find Kim here.

  Squaring her shoulders, she adjusted the scarf around her face again and forced a smile. “Lead the way, Mr. Strong.”

  The fire truck was parked near the training tower where firefighters learned to carry heavy lengths of hose up ladders and victims safely back down. The truck itself looked like it had come out of a Laurel and Hardy film, the driver exposed to the elements in an open cab, the firemen expected to hang onto the back as the truck raced through the city.

  The motor had been pulled out of the truck and hung on an A-frame nearby. In fact, the entire inside of the engine compartment had been emptied and the truck was up on blocks, suggesting the restoration process had a long way to go.

  Kim’s heart stumbled when she spotted Jay standing beside the truck, his uniform perfectly tailored to fit his broad shoulders and lean hips. He looked capable and efficient, the press of his pants razor sharp. A stranger wouldn’t suspect his dark glasses disguised a man who was blind.

  Yet it was only because of his blindness that
Kim felt free to be here with him. If he could see, she would never have had the courage to face him even with a scarf hiding most of her face. The fear of seeing pity and revulsion in his eyes would have kept her away.

  “Hey, Tolliver,” Logan said as they approached. “I found somebody you’ve been looking for.”

  “Hi, Jay,” she said.

  His quick smile spoke volumes about how glad he was that she had come. He reached out his hand to her. “Take a look at Big Red. Isn’t she a beaut?”

  “Yes,” she said, though she wasn’t thinking about the fire truck as, despite herself, she welcomed the warmth of his fingers closing around hers. “You look pretty sharp yourself, mister.”

  “I clean up good, huh?”

  “The lipstick on your cheek is a particularly nice touch.”

  “What?” Embarrassed, he rubbed his hand across his face. “It had to be Mrs. Anderson. She gets a little gushy sometimes.”

  “I’m sure you have that effect on all the women.”

  “Usually just the ones over sixty and under age five.”

  Jay had that heady effect on her, too, creating an uncanny desire to kiss him, but Kim didn’t think it wise to mention that small failing of hers.

  “Where’s your guide dog?” she asked in an effort to redirect her wayward thoughts.

  “Mack Buttons is on duty entertaining the kids. They’ve got him around here somewhere.”

  She scanned the milling crowd until she spotted a covey of youngsters, Buttons the center of their attention with one of the firefighters supervising. She laughed as a small child slipped the dog a bite of her pancake. “Looks like he’s doing a good job but I don’t think he’s going to be hungry for dinner.”

  “Pancakes?”

  “Probably as nutritious as Cheerios for your cat.”

  He gave an unconcerned shrug. “Say, I want you to meet our chief mechanic. You see a kid around here with spiky hair and pimples?”

  The description was a perfect match for a slender adolescent who was diligently polishing the chrome on one of the headlights.

  “Come here, Tommy,” Jay called when Kim identified the youngster. “I want you to meet somebody.”

  Looking reluctant to be pulled away from his crucial task, he walked over to Jay, who introduced Tommy Tonka to Kim. The youngster’s gaze flitted from Jay to Kim, held a moment of recognition, then darted back to Jay again.

  “Tommy’s a total genius when it comes to the inner workings of Big Red. He’s practically in charge of overhauling the whole engine.”

  The boy blushed scarlet, and his gaze dropped to the ground, searching out an imaginary rock for his toe to shove around on the concrete. His tennis shoes were scuffed and holey, his laces untied. “I’m not that good,” he mumbled.

  Reaching out, Jay found the kid’s shoulder and gave him an encouraging squeeze. “Yeah, you are that good, and we sure couldn’t do this job without you.”

  Kim was touched by the flash of pleasure in Tommy’s eyes and how he quickly looked away again. Shy did not begin to describe the young man’s personality yet she suspected the men of Station Six had found a way to reach him.

  Jay talked to the boy for a while about guy things—starter motors and transmissions—then let the youngster go back to his solitary task by saying, “I’ve got to see that Kim gets some pancakes before they’re all gone. We’ll talk later, okay?”

  With a shy glance at Kim, Tommy escaped with his polishing cloth to the far side of the truck.

  “The kid’s a little bashful,” Jay said after they’d walked away from the fire truck toward the tables set up to cook and serve breakfast.

  “So I gathered.”

  “Lots better than he used to be, though. Hardly would talk to any of us at first, just tinkered with the truck engine. Now we’re working on getting him to talk to girls.”

  “From what I’ve seen that may take a while.”

  “We figure all we need is a girl who knows a wrench from a screwdriver and we’ll be set. The kid really is a genius but he’s kind of got tunnel vision.”

  Kim could understand that. Her parents and sister were geniuses, too, and so focused on their own specialities they rarely had time or inclination to discuss anything else. Half the time they didn’t even talk to each other.

  “I’ll keep an eye out for a girl with those qualifications,” she promised.

  Chief Gray was busily flipping pancakes while two firefighters with aprons tied around their waists were pouring orange juice and serving up little paper cups of maple syrup. Kim and Jay got in line.

  “Maybe I should have volunteered to help cook,” Jay said, his head close to hers.

  “I imagine most of these people would appreciate not having their pancakes served up off the floor,” she suggested mildly.

  “You have a point. I’m better at darts, anyway.”

  Laughing, she nudged him with her elbow.

  After a brief wait, Chief Gray slid a stack of pancakes on to Kim’s paper plate. “Glad you could join us, Ms. Lydell.”

  “They tell me your pancakes are world-renowned.”

  “It’s the real reason the city council promoted me to chief fifteen years ago. No one else in the station house could make a decent batch of pancakes.” He gave her a friendly wink, then piled pancakes on Jay’s plate, steadying it with his free hand. “Next year I expect you behind this table helping out, Tolliver. No slackers in my department.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be here, sir.”

  Kim noticed, despite his jovial words, the chief’s fatherly look of concern. She imagined the real reason Gray had been promoted was that he cared so much about the men and women in his department.

  She guided Jay toward an empty table warmed by the winter sun. The rays were not as powerful as this inland valley experienced during the summer months when the locals relied on an afternoon breeze sweeping over the coastal range to keep them cool.

  Nonetheless, as she sat next to Jay, shoulder to shoulder, Kim had the sensation the summer sun was heating her. Warmth radiated from him as if his metabolism was turned up to high. She smiled, thinking that with a man like Jay, a woman wouldn’t need an electric blanket on even the coldest arctic night. Her usually cold feet would not be a problem nor would she need a flannel nightgown. Hopefully no nightgown at all, she thought before she could stop herself.

  “Hello, dears.” Evie Anderson came swooping over in their direction, all gusto and enthusiasm, her potent perfume preceding her by several steps. “Aren’t you the exclusive ones, sitting over here all by yourselves? I’m not sure you’ve had a chance to try my strawberry syrup. Made it from the plants in my own yard last year.”

  Jay groaned.

  Her taste buds puckering, Kim pasted her professional smile on her face. “You know, Councilwoman Anderson, I’d really like to try your syrup, but I’m allergic to strawberries.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad, child. How ’bout you, young man? Don’t you know, Harlan raves about my syrup. The most unique he’s ever tasted, he tells me. I’m sure he’d want you to try some.”

  “Please do,” Kim urged him, practically biting her cheek to keep from laughing. “I’m only sorry I can’t enjoy the pleasure myself.”

  Jay coughed, choking, and Kim suspected behind his eye patches tears had formed.

  “Yes, ma’am. Just a little. Maybe at the side of my plate.”

  “Of course, dear.” The councilwoman poured a generous portion onto his plate. “Now you tell me if that isn’t the best syrup you’ve ever tasted.”

  With an unsteady hand, he forked a bite of syrup-doused pancake into his mouth. A muscle flexed in his jaw before he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing two or three times.

  “The chief’s always right,” he said tautly. “Unique.”

  “You’re such a sweet boy.” The councilwoman beamed her approval. “Would you like some more? There’s plenty.”

  “No, no. Thanks anyway. I’m trying to watch my sugar intake.
”

  Satisfied she’d made another conquest with her culinary skills, Evie Anderson wandered off to visit the innocents at the next table.

  Kim stifled a laugh.

  Turning, Jay leveled her a look that, despite his reflective glasses, was all too transparent. “You owe me, Ms. Lydell. Big time.”

  THEY’D FINISHED breakfast and Kim was making a desperate effort to excuse herself. She’d spotted more than one person sending a curious look in her direction. Being a TV personality, even on a small scale, in Paseo del Real, created a certain level of recognition. She didn’t want anyone looking too closely.

  “I’ve really got to go,” she told Jay, edging away from their table.

  “Sure, no problem.” Standing, he looped his arm over her shoulder in a casual gesture. “There’s this one thing I wanted to show you that we missed on the tour.”

  She got an uneasy feeling at the back of her neck. “I’m not going to slide down that pole of yours no matter what you think.”

  “Naw, I wouldn’t make you do that.”

  Something about the cant of his lips suggested he had an idea even more troubling.

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “I’ve lost my bearings. Where’s Engine 61?”

  She glanced at the fire engines parked on the driveway in front of the station. “Out front. You want me to see something on the truck?”

  “Yeah, something special. You’ll like it, I promise.”

  Kim wasn’t so sure, but she took his arm and helped him work his way through the unfamiliar maze of tables and chairs inside the station to the back of the fire truck.

  “What am I supposed to see?” she asked.

  “Ah, we’ve gotta climb up on top.” He reached out, his hand searching for something to grip, and he hefted himself onto the gleaming step. “You need a hand?”

  “I can manage.” She pulled herself up. “Now what?”

  “What do you say we go all the way?” Before she knew what was happening, he’d hooked his arm around her waist and was boosting her to the top of the fire truck where hoses were looped back and forth ready to be pulled free.