Slow Burn. Jamie Denton Ann
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He felt the slight nod of her head against his chest as he smoothed his hand down her back as if soothing a small child—except Maggie was no child. She was a full-grown woman with curves in all the right places. Curves he’d had the agonizing privilege of seeing when he’d walked in on her at the hospital. Curves he’d had the excruciating pleasure of touching as he’d helped her dress. Curves he was certain would haunt not only his dreams, but his waking hours, as well.
She pulled back to look up at him. Her eyes filled with moisture. “Cale,” she whispered.
“Shh,” he murmured, slipping his hand through her long cinnamon hair to cup the back of her neck in his palm. Comfort, that’s all he was offering. It was all he had to offer.
The lie stuck in his suddenly dry throat as he slowly lowered his head, bringing their lips within inches of touching. Her dark sooty lashes fluttered closed as she lifted her lips to his. Kissing Maggie might not be his smartest move, but he’d started down this road and there was no way he could turn back now, not when she was such a willing participant.
His lips brushed hers just as the beeper clipped to his belt vibrated. For the space of a second he considered ignoring it, but he was on call, as were most of the guys at Trinity Station during off time. There was no such thing as being truly off duty in his line of work. Taking into account the time of day, he suspected the emergency was a multi-vehicle accident rather than a two-or three-alarm blaze.
“I’m sorry,” he said as he released Maggie and reached for his beeper. The words “Six MVA on I-10,” lit up the LCD screen, confirming his suspicions. It’d take him a minimum of fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, to be on the scene, but with six vehicles involved, the extra hands would be welcome regardless of when they arrived.
Reluctantly, he let her go. A sense of male satisfaction filled him at her obvious disappointment.
“I have to leave,” he said, already feeling the rush of adrenaline creeping through his body as he anticipated the task ahead of him. “The guest room is downstairs. The lower level is pretty much under construction, but you’ll be able to find it since it’s the only room finished. Unfortunately, the working bathroom is upstairs at the moment. It’s just down the hall.”
He stepped around her and headed for the door.
“Is there anything I should do while you’re gone?” she asked, stopping him as his hand settled on the doorknob. “Feed your pets, maybe?”
“Pearl likes to run along the beach about an hour after she eats.” He checked his watch, knowing he had to get going. “Give her a couple scoops of dry food if I’m not back by seven. Her food’s in the tall cabinet next to the fridge. I can take her for a walk when I get home.”
He didn’t bother to say goodbye, just walked out the door without a backward glance. As he trotted down the steps and headed for his pickup, he was struck by the frightening thought that for the first time since following in his parents’ professional footsteps, his focus was on something other than just doing his job; it was on the woman who’d be waiting for him at the end of the day.
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