Into the Fire (First Responders 3)

“I’m not doing anything,” she replied, sticking her hands in her coat pockets. “Why is it always all or nothing with you?”

Because I’m afraid you’ll slip away, he thought, but he kept it to himself. He was always so sure about everything, but he was never sure about her. And that made him feel weak.

“It’s not,” he answered carefully. Did he really want to go down this path? Maybe it would be better if he just walked away. Just stayed away. Trouble was, he’d been doing just that and it hadn’t worked. “Let’s just say I want to keep the door open. No pressure.”

“I think I can handle that,” she whispered, and smiled shyly.

Their eyes clung for a few seconds, that in-between space in time when they weren’t quite sure what to do next. “I need to get going, and you probably should too if you’re not going to be late. Any chance of a kiss before I go?”

“Maybe.”

She was playing coy now and he loved it. Maybe he had pushed too hard. Maybe he needed to take it slow and not have all the answers. It wasn’t his usual style but it didn’t mean it was wrong. They could start off with a kiss goodnight and see where it led. The last thing he wanted to do was mess this up for a second time.

He took his hand out of his jacket pocket and looped it around her waist, placing it on the small of her back and drawing her close. Her heeled boots added to her height, so she only had to tilt her head slightly and her glossy lips were there waiting, slightly parted, her breath making thin clouds in the late autumn evening. He shifted them slightly so they were out of the circle of the light. Then he placed his lips on hers.

Her gloss tasted like vanilla and berries. She wound her arms around his neck, pressing herself close to him as they kissed. It was more sweet than passionate. Even though they were out of the light, they were still in her front yard after all. It didn’t stop the surge of desire at the taste and feel of her. He wanted to take her home, make love to her properly in his big bed. His memories of her only added fuel to the fire. Something had been resurrected the night he’d pleasured her on his sofa, and when she was close to him this way he was sure he wanted to finish what they’d started.

But not here, and not now, so he braced his feet and prepared himself to make do with kissing and the feel of her in his arms.

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat and then a quiet, “Allison?”

She froze in his arms.

“You’re going to be late.” Then there was just a condemning closing of the door again.

Ally pushed back and put her hands in her coat pockets again. “She’s right. It wouldn’t look good for me to be late.”

“What’s your mother got against me, anyway?”

“I have no idea. She always thought I was rather stupid to give you up in the first place.”

There was that word again. Stupid. She seemed to use that an awful lot in reference to herself. He didn’t like it.

“You probably should go. And maybe reapply your lipstick before you leave.” He ran a thumb over her lips. They looked plump and deliciously kissed. “Let me know how you make out. And come see Moose sometime. He’s fetching now and bringing it back without prompting. Of course, he’s figured out that he gets a treat and sticks his nose in my pocket.”

“I’d like that. I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t want to leave but she had to get on the road. “You sure your car will start?”

She grinned. “I gave it a tune-up. Changed the oil, plugs, everything. She’s got to get me through the winter, you know.”

“You did that?”

She nodded. “I can do some things on my own,” she replied.

“You,” he said, touching her nose with a finger, “are constantly full of surprises.”

“I hope so,” she answered. “Now get going. And thanks for stopping by.”

She slipped by him into the house and he went back to his truck. His footsteps felt lighter than they had in ages. If she wanted time, he’d give it to her. But not too much time. There were some things he was eager to get moving. Like making love to her again—properly.

Did he really want to go down this road? If he were brutally honest, he did. His pain had been real when she’d given him back the ring, but she’d explained her reasons. And he had been impatient. Maybe he could have given her more time, but he’d pushed, made it all or nothing. She wasn’t the only one to blame.

Maybe they could get it right this time.