Bold and Brave-Hearted Read online

  “Jay! What are you doing?”

  He climbed up beside her. “Watch out for the couplings. They hurt like hell in the small of your back.”

  She barely glimpsed the shiny couplings that connected one section of fire hose to another before Jay had pressed her down on top of the canvas hoses.

  “Now tell me, blue eyes. Did you see the movie Backdraft?”

  She had, with all the sensual activity that took place on top of a fire truck. “No, Jay, you can’t do this. There are people—”

  “Yeah, right. But I can’t see them…and they can’t see us.”

  With unerring accuracy, his hand cupped her face and his mouth closed over hers.

  Immediately she was caught up in the forbidden thrill of kissing a man when there were dozens of people around.

  “Ever since that movie, I’ve wanted to do this,” he whispered. “With you.”

  He deepened the kiss this time, and she opened to his penetration, welcoming it in ways she might have lacked the courage to accept when they were younger. She stirred against him, excited by the feel of his long, hard body pressed against hers. Beneath her the ranks of hose shifted, and she curled one leg around back of his, relishing the thrust of his arousal against the V of her thighs.

  She’d had no idea as an adolescent how right Jay would feel in her arms. A perfect fit, both emotionally and physically.

  She clung to him, her fingers threading their way through the short strands of hair on his head, wishing he’d left it long so she could more fully enjoy the weight and texture of the walnut-brown waves that had once curled at his nape.

  There was a tenderness about him, taking her almost gently, and she wondered if he would have had as much control ten years ago. For her, after all these years, her passion rode higher, more experienced, more needy for what she wanted.

  He tasted of strawberry syrup with a unique tang that was potently masculine, singularly Jay’s own, a flavor she’d instinctively sought all of her life.

  His hand covered her breast in a greedy embrace.

  “I can’t tell you how many years I’ve wanted to do that,” he murmured against her lips.

  “We shouldn’t…” Her protest was mild even to her own ears. Spontaneously she tilted her hips toward his, and the desire she felt made her words a lie.

  The alarm that could raise men from deep sleep sounded, the tone cutting through the air of the fire station. The dispatcher announced in the metallic sound of a loudspeaker where the emergency existed.

  Jay cursed under his breath. “We gotta get outta here.”

  Together, they scrambled off the top of the fire engine, barely making it before the men on duty had taken their places on the fire engine and the truck had rolled out of the station.

  Kim breathed deeply, trying to suppress the flow of desire that had nearly consumed her, and forcing herself to recall that she and Jay had nothing in common—except a mutual case of sexual attraction.

  “Kimberly, is that you?” Her mother’s hard-edged voice that could slice through the most difficult scientific theory cut through Kim’s lingering haze of passion. “What on earth were you doing up on top of that fire truck?”

  Chapter Six

  Torn between mortification and laughter, Kim adjusted her scarf and tried to ignore the blush that burned her cheeks.

  “Hello, Mother. I’m glad you could come.”

  Maureen DeMille-Lydell eyed Jay suspiciously. No taller than Kim, she wore her graying hair as she always had, a short wash-and-wear cut that required little attention beyond an occasional combing. Fashion was not an issue that concerned her.

  “Yes, well, we do try to support our fire department. Your father was sorry he couldn’t get away. There was a symposium today on particle physics that he and Leanne wanted to attend.”

  “I’m sure they’ll find it fascinating.” Symposiums had always held more allure for her father and sister than Kim’s more prosaic interests. “Mother, I’d like you to meet Jay Tolliver. He was the firefighter who rescued me after the earthquake.”

  He extended his hand. “Glad to meet you, Mrs. Lydell.”

  She shook his hand warmly. “It’s Doctor DeMille-Lydell actually.” Her title and hyphenated name were a point of honor with Kim’s mother, a remnant of her days as an active women’s libber. “I’m pleased to meet you. It was courageous of you to stay with her when the building might have fallen down at any moment.”

  “All part of the job, ma’am.” He turned to Kim. “Why don’t you see that your mother gets some pancakes. I’ll just go check on my Seeing Eye dog.”

  He walked away, leaving Kim’s mother slack-jawed and momentarily speechless, and Kim holding her breath as he nearly collided with a clutch of firefighters’ wives chatting together. Fortunately one of them snared Jay and redirected him toward where Buttons was leashed.

  “His Seeing Eye—” Maureen frowned. “Is he really blind?”

  “He was in an explosion about ten days ago. He’d given his helmet to one of the fire victims he was rescuing….” Just as he’d done for her in the earthquake, Kim recalled. “Some glass blew up in his face and cut the corneas in both his eyes. He’s wearing patches now.”

  “How unfortunate for him. But really, Kimberly, I don’t mean to be disapproving, and I’m sure he’s a very brave man, but it was fairly obvious what you were doing on top of the fire truck. And with a fireman at that. I know you’re grateful for what he—”

  “I wasn’t kissing him out of gratitude, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Her mother would be even more shocked to know Kim regretted the interruption of an emergency, as foolish as that might seem. She could have gone on kissing Jay for hours.

  “I was only thinking of your best interests, dear, and your image in the community. You’re at a vulnerable point in your life and I know you’re sensitive about your scars.”

  Kim bristled. “He can’t see them, Mother.”

  “Yes, dear, that’s the whole point. Simply because you’ve found a man who doesn’t object to the dreadful damage that light fixture did to your face doesn’t mean you have to take up with a fireman.”

  “Firefighter, that’s the politically correct term now. Would you be happier if I took up with a blind Nobel Prize-winning scientist?”

  “You’re being obtuse, dear. I’d hate for you to make a mistake by doing anything hasty now when there’s still a chance the new specialist will be able to repair the scars.”

  Her parents had lined up an appointment for her with yet another in a long line of plastic surgeons, this one in Santa Barbara. Kim supposed she should be grateful. Instead she resented the fact that her parents couldn’t accept a daughter who was anything less than perfect. And that included her finding a perfect husband, one who met their high standards: intellectually gifted, a flawless physical specimen, someone who could sire impeccable grandchildren for her.

  It had always struck Kim as odd that her mother would have such a woman’s lib attitude about her own life yet have such traditional, albeit high expectations, for her younger daughter.

  Jay wouldn’t have met their standards as a high-school beau; they still wouldn’t approve of Kim having a relationship with him.

  What her mother didn’t realize was that no relationship would be possible once Jay was able to see again.

  Regaining his vision was something Kim sincerely hoped would happen soon, for Jay’s sake. But the awful truth was, an evil, selfish part of Kim wanted to delay that moment, to hoard these few days—a week or two—when he couldn’t see her. Wouldn’t pity her. A time while she could store up memories to ease the bitter shock of that wrenching sensation when he was sure to turn his back on her.

  A time when it didn’t matter that they had nothing in common.

  She clamped down on the threat of tears that had her chin trembling in anger at her mother…and maybe at fate itself.

  “Would you like some pancakes, Mother?” she asked sweetly. “Councilwoman Anders
on made some special strawberry syrup to go with them.”

  “No, dear, I really can’t stay. I just wanted to show my support, and now I must be on my way. The afternoon speakers at the symposium looked quite interesting. I thought I’d drop by.”

  “Of course. Thanks for coming.”

  JAY HEADED for the far reaches of the fire station, a place where he could be alone. Not that being blind didn’t isolate him more thoroughly than any amount of distance could.

  And make him more stupid, too.

  What the hell had he been thinking?

  Another one of his jokes, getting Kim up on top of the fire truck with him. Payback time for Mrs. Anderson’s god-awful strawberry syrup that tasted like she’d dumped in a bottle of lemon juice instead of sweetener.

  In a savage swipe, he kicked the old picnic table the day-shift employees used for coffee breaks hard enough to send pains shooting up his shin bone. Great! If he handled things any better, he’d be off the job for months with a broken leg even if he did get his sight back. And it would damn well serve him right.

  He had no business kissing Kim. No business wanting her sweet, hot body under his—on top of the fire truck or in his bed, he didn’t care where. And he had no business embarrassing her in front of his friends—and her mom, for God’s sake.

  If he’d been thinking at all, it certainly hadn’t been with any part of his anatomy above his waist.

  He could lust all he wanted after Kimberly Lydell, just as he had in high school, but he still couldn’t have her. Not now and maybe not even if he had a pair of fully functional eyes. He imagined that her Ph.D. mother had made that perfectly clear to her prom-queen daughter even if Kim had already recognized for herself they weren’t exactly an ideal match.

  God, when had he last read anything except Sports Illustrated? And the only sculpture he knew about was one of Father Junipero Serra, the founder of a string of missions in California. Jay had seen that one up close because a high-school buddy had thrown him into the fountain that surrounded the statue in downtown Paseo.

  Sitting on the edge of the picnic table, he plowed his fingers through his hair. If Kim was so damn unsuited for him, why did the lingering taste of her lips taunt him so powerfully he wanted to go storming back into the fire station, find her and haul her off cave-man style, and not give a flying fig what her mother or anyone else thought?

  He heard footsteps on the concrete pad and inhaled deeply, knowing he wouldn’t have to look far to find Kim. She was wearing a tropical, sultry scent today, erotic and tantalizing. His body responded with a physical ache he had trouble suppressing.

  “Is your mother already gone?” he asked as casually as he could.

  Her footsteps halted. “How do you do that?”

  His body tightened with heightened arousal at the lustrous sound of her voice—like a diamond amid chunks of coal. “Do what?”

  “Know that I’m here when you can’t see me.”

  “Emma Jean’s psychic abilities are probably rubbing off on me.”

  “Yeah, right.” She cocked her head, studying Jay, the way his forehead furrowed into two deep vertical grooves when he was troubled—or pouting. “Mother had more pressing matters to attend to, but you certainly escaped in a hurry.”

  “After she’d spotted us on top of the fire truck, I didn’t think she’d be impressed by the bulge in my pants.”

  “I was,” she admitted softly.

  His pout shifted into a half smile. “Come on, blue eyes, face it. Your Ph.D. mother can’t exactly be pleased about you hanging around with a firefighter. A blind one at that.”

  “I’m nearly thirty years old. I pretty much make up my own mind about who I see and who I don’t.”

  His expression didn’t change and all she could see was the distorted image of herself in the reflective lenses of his dark glasses. The noise of the visitors to the pancake breakfast was muted by the building that was between them and the crowd, leaving them apart from the others as effectively as their injuries isolated them from those who were whole.

  “This isn’t going to work, you know,” he said quietly.

  Her throat tightened just the same way it would if she was about to be dumped by an old boyfriend. “Just what is it that’s not going to work?”

  “You and me. If we act on this…sizzle that’s between us, somebody’s going to get hurt.”

  “We’re adults.” What on earth was she saying? She didn’t want to have a physical relationship with Jay. She’d be the one who was hurt as soon as he got a good look at her face. In the long run, they had nothing in common.

  “Sometimes that’s the problem. We know exactly what we’re missing.”

  She could only guess what it would be like with Jay. Slow and gentle, extraordinarily tender. Then hot, like the fires he fought, and fast moving. One glance at his hands that were curled around the edge of the table on either side of his lean hips, and she could easily imagine his caresses sparking a flame that could be quenched in only one way. And then only temporarily until he touched her again.

  “Maybe you’re right.” Her pulse pounded in her chest and echoed much lower in her body with even a more frantic beat. “Maybe we shouldn’t start something we couldn’t stop.”

  She turned to leave and his hand reached out, capturing her wrist. “You’re wearing sandals today and they make little slapping noises when you walk. And your perfume’s a tropical scent, a little fruity, different than the floral one you were wearing the other day. That’s how I knew you’d come looking for me. But even before, in high school, I knew where you were—all the time.”

  Staring at him dumbfounded, she tried to still her rocketing pulse even as his hand slid down to clasp his fingers with hers. “I didn’t think you even noticed me.”

  “Every guy in school noticed you. I was obsessed.”

  “Why didn’t you—”

  “I was working two jobs and helping my mother at home. There wasn’t much time left over for idle chitchat and I sure didn’t have enough money to take you to the prom.”

  “I would have settled for a soda or even a little conversation.”

  “Would you?” His brows lifted above the line of his dark glasses, pleating his forehead. “As I recall, I would have had to work my way through a pretty big crowd of guys to get within ten feet of you.”

  She didn’t dare admit that with one crook of his little finger, she would have come to him. But not now, not when this sizzle between them could so easily get out of hand.

  “I’ve dated a lot of men, but never anyone special.” No one but Jay had ever struck a chord in Kim that resonated so deeply, so mysteriously. Beyond the inherent danger he seemed to represent, she wasn’t sure why she’d never quite forgotten the aloof young man who had so fascinated her. Perhaps she’d sensed a depth in Jay that was lacking in the other men she’d met—that drive that forced him to work two jobs to help his mother.

  “You’ve never been engaged?” he asked.

  “Not even once.”

  “Sounds like every man in the state must be even more blind than I am. Or fools.”

  In spite of herself, his words sent a curl of pleasure through her midsection. “If it reassures you any, I have had a fair number of proposals. On average, when I’m on the air, I get two or three a week, some of them quite bizarre, like from inmates of the state correctional facility in Lompoc.”

  His hand tightened convulsively around hers. “My God, you don’t respond, do you?”

  “No, those I pretty well ignore.” And like most celebrities, even those in small towns, she had an unlisted phone number and a state-of-the-art security system at her home. “Guess one of the advantages of being off the air is that I haven’t had a proposal in months.”

  “Don’t even joke about that stuff, blue eyes.” He nearly growled the warning. “Some of those men could be dangerous.”

  “I know.” With her free hand, she cupped his cheek, cherishing his concern for her safety. “I wat
ch my step and carry pepper spray. Fortunately, Paseo del Real isn’t exactly a high-crime area.”

  “There are kooks everywhere.”

  Touched by his fear for her, she stood on tiptoe and brushed a quick kiss to his lips. She’d only meant it as an affectionate gesture, but the sizzle was instantaneous, igniting like a flash fire, that was just as quickly doused when two children came running and shouting into the secluded part of the fire station.

  Gasping for breath, Kim jumped back as if she’d been shot, hiding her hands behind her back and instinctively ducking the scarred side of her face away from the new arrivals. This was certainly a day for her getting caught in one compromising position after another.

  “Hey, Jay,” a boy of about nine called as he dodged out of the grasp of his younger sister.

  “Not fair,” she complained. “It’s your turn to be it.”

  “You gotta catch me first.” Grinning, he whirled away again.

  “Children! Enough already.” An attractive dark-haired woman in her thirties appeared, mildly exasperated with having to chase after her offspring. She eyed Jay and Kim with open curiosity, and smiled. “Hi, Jay, it’s Janice Gainer. Sorry if we interrupted anything private.”

  Kim couldn’t remember a single day in her entire life when she’d blushed more frequently, with the small exception of the high-school dance when she dragged toilet paper around on the bottom of her shoe for hours before someone told her.

  “No problem,” Jay said. “I was just showing Kim the station house.”

  “Well, I’m sure this picnic table out here in back was the highlight of the tour.” With a teasing laugh, she extended her hand to Kim. “Hi, I’m Janice. My husband Ray is on C shift with Jay, except he’s on the ladder truck. And these noisy creatures who interrupted your, ah, tour are Kevin and Maddie. We were just taking a shortcut out the back way to our car.”

  In response to the introduction, the little girl wrapped her arms around her mother’s hips and smiled shyly up at Kim with big, brown eyes.