Saved By The Firefighter

He sidled up to her at the bar, where the barman filled a large glass with white wine. The guy’s gaze slid back and forth between the V of Izzy’s shirt and the glass he filled. Trent cleared his throat. “And a bottle of beer when you’re ready, my friend.”

The barman lifted his gaze. “Be right with you.”

Trent narrowed his eyes as the guy moved to the fridges behind him.

“What’s your problem, Firefighter Trent?” Izzy laughed. “You think he’s edging in on your territory or something?”

Rare heat hit Trent’s face. Worse, it matched the heat of the protectiveness roaring behind his rib cage. “’Course not, but you being hit on wasn’t part of the deal tonight.”

“Part of the deal?” Izzy grinned and sipped her wine. “The deal tonight will be whatever I choose it to be.”

He tossed a glare at the barman. “Is that so?”

Her fingers touched his chin, turning his face to hers. The spot where her fingers lingered simmered with a frisson of electricity. He met her gaze and fought the urge to kiss her. “What?”

“Once you have your drink, we’re going to dance.”

Trent shook his head, his gaze hovering on her mouth. “I don’t dance.”

“You do tonight.” She picked up her glass and left the bar.

She walked across the small breadth of decking and down the sand-covered steps onto the beach. Why couldn’t it be any other girl in the entire world who haunted his dreams and made him want to fix her life in every way? Why Robbie’s sister? Why the woman who blamed him for an unthinkable tragedy, detested him and would undoubtedly rip his heart from his chest once she found the worst possible way to do it?

He clenched his jaw. Deep inside, he sensed Izzy would be incapable of cruelty no matter how much she might want to humiliate him. Her kindness and false sense of bravado were the things that struck at his very core since he first laid eyes on her. From the moment she’d walked into the Coast bar to join her brother for a late-night drink, Trent had wanted to know who she was. The discovery that Izzy was the sister of the first guy he’d befriended in Templeton had been an obstacle he was determined to overcome.

It had taken him almost four years to have the honor of kissing and touching such a beautiful and wonderful woman. Then Robbie was killed and Trent hadn’t for one moment considered the strength of Izzy’s resistance to having anything more to do with him.

“That’s six pounds, twenty, mate.”

The barman’s voice sliced through Trent’s reverie and he turned, sliding his hand into his back pocket for his wallet. Saying nothing, his eyes still on the barman’s. The guy had clearly decided Izzy was a free agent from the way his cool stare met Trent’s.

Trent slid a ten-pound note from his wallet and held it out. “Keep the change.”

The barman nodded, his face somber as he reached for the money. “I’ll put it in the charity box.”

“You do that, and for the record, that girl I’m with, she’s out of bounds.”

The barman smiled. “I didn’t get the impression she considers herself yours, mate.”

“One, I’m not your mate and, two, she’s had a rough time of it lately and doesn’t need guys hitting on her left, right and center.”

The barman took the note from Trent’s fingers and raised his eyebrows. “Fair enough. Might be a good idea if you took your own advice, if that’s the case.”

He walked away and Trent glared at the barman’s retreating back as he picked up his beer. He took a hefty slug and turned to the beach, his gaze immediately picking out Izzy as she stood alone, jigging lightly to an R&B track, her almost-empty glass swaying back and forth in her hand.

He headed in her direction. Even if he could never get her to accept that Robbie had died before the fire service’s arrival on the scene, he would do anything to make her genuinely smile again. He’d make that happen, even if he was eventually forced to admit defeat and surrender her to another man. If someone else—apart from the cocky barman—could hold her in his arms and make her smile, it would be enough for him to let her go.

Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.

He moved beside her and she turned, her eyebrows raised. “Finished your face-off with the bar staff?”

He took another drink. “Yep.”

“Good.” She reached up, took the bottle from his hand and placed it beside her glass on an upturned crate beside her. She took his hand. “Now we dance.”

“I told you I don’t dance.”

He tugged her back and she stopped short. “What?”

His gaze drew like a tracker beam to her sweet, kissable mouth. “You’ll regret making me do this.”

She shrugged. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.”

* * *

IZZY REGRETTED HER decision to dance with him the instant Trent’s hands touched her waist.

Boom! The sexual tension took off like a damn rocket.

What was wrong with her? For months and months, even before Robbie died, she’d avoided having anything less than two feet of space between her and Trent in the name of self-preservation. She’d watched enough women embarrass themselves by salivating after her brother’s best friend to know there was something about Trent that was potent and dangerous.

Then she’d gone and slept with him.

What had she thought would happen after such an amazing night? That one or both of them would walk away, be unaffected by those hours? The truth was, three amazing weeks had followed...and then Robbie was killed and ever since, everything between her and Trent had been different. Irrevocably different.

She would never again open herself up to the risk of falling in love only to have the guy die or walk away.

Yet she’d given in to the childish need to call Trent out, to bluff his advances and now she was suffering the consequences of his magnetism all over again. Once Trent had his entire focus on a woman and she was close enough to smell his scent, she was caught.

Then to have him put his hands on her?

Izzy swallowed her groan as it threatened to erupt, slapped on a smile and raised an eyebrow in an attempt to impersonate a femme fatale who could nonchalantly separate the men from the boys whenever she chose. “Are we going to move? Or just stand here with you looking at me like that?”

He smiled. “Like what?”

“Like you’re going to...” Her shaky facade faltered. “Bite me.”

He laughed...and goddamn it if she didn’t smile. Really smile. He met her gaze again and winked. He pulled her closer and, against her better judgment, Izzy didn’t move away.

The music slowed and a soul ballad pumped seductively from the speakers like a cruelly planned serenade. He nodded. “Now, this kind of dance I can do. We just need to get real close and shuffle. You can shuffle, right?”

Every inch of her body screamed with suppressed sexual attraction. Her heart beat fast as she fought the heat tingling through her breasts and lower. The man was a walking, talking love machine.

She forced her gaze to stay on his. “Of course I can.”

“Good.”

He lifted one of her hands to his chest and, with a single tug on the other, eased her close enough a grain of sand couldn’t have lodged between them. His heart beat under her palm, as hers pulsed in her ears. The soft teasing in his eyes slowly dissolved until he looked at her with such focused attention her legs grew feeble. Her feet shifted upon the sand of their own accord. He was so tall, broad and wide at this close proximity, she felt fragile in his arms. She looked into his eyes and her stomach flipped over as if she were a fifteen-year-old girl instead of a twenty-nine-year-old woman. Heat burned. Attraction soared. At last, for just a few moments, everything felt right in the world.

She froze.

Everything wasn’t right in the world. Despite the slowly gathering peace between her and her parents, they were still thousands of miles away. Robbie was still dead, and the man who held her so close his breath whispered across her lashes had arrived too late at the garage to save her brother’s life.

She stepped back and Trent gripped her hand, keeping it pressed to his chest as the determination she knew so well seeped into his gaze.

Izzy closed her eyes as claustrophobia grew. “I need to go.”

“Don’t do this, Iz.”

She opened her eyes.

His gaze held quiet pleading mixed with challenge. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Fear gripped her heart and squeezed. She couldn’t lean on him. She couldn’t lean on anyone without the risk of furthering the pain of loss she continued to battle every single day. She squirmed out of his grasp and he released her. “You’ve got me? God, Trent, have you forgotten Robbie was your best friend? That he’s dead?” She cursed and looked around, before stepping back. “I have to get of here. I want to leave. Right now.”

She whipped off her shoes and ran across the sand toward the steps that led to home and safety. Memories crashed into her mind and coated her throat with the bitter taste of fear.

The explosion that killed her brother had been so loud, so sudden, the first thing that went through Izzy’s mind had been that someone had thrown a petrol bomb through her studio window. She’d gripped her best friend’s arm as they simultaneously dropped to the floor. The floor tiles had vibrated through Izzy’s palms as the echoes of people’s screams filtered through the open studio window.

She’d looked at Kate, her heart racing. “What the hell was that?”

Kate’s eyes had been wide as she visibly shook. “I don’t know, but whatever it was, people are going to need our help.” She’d leaped to her feet. “Come on. We have to go out there.”

They’d sprinted from the darkroom and into the studio, running toward the picture window at the front.

Bright orange flames had rolled from the entrance of the garage where Izzy’s brother worked, blurring Izzy’s vision. Thick black smoke spiraled on a plume through the doors, diving and leaping on the summer breeze.

“Robbie...” Izzy had reached blindly for Kate’s hand, arm, anything. “Robbie!”

CHAPTER THREE

TRENT CURSED AND took off after Izzy as she bolted onto the promenade.

The idea had been to get her to the party and then concentrate on whatever she needed. He wanted her to relax, smile, have a drink and realize the whole world wasn’t a threat to her existence. Hadn’t his entire mission tonight been about making her trust him enough to feel safe? That maybe one day she might see him as a man rather than a monster?

He was sick and tired of trying to get her out of his mind by dating other women. Life was too short not to listen to his heart and act on feelings that refused to abate. He clenched his jaw. He’d seen too much death in his career, but it had been Robbie’s that made him determined to act on his feelings for Izzy. He wanted her...and deep in his heart, he sensed she wanted him too.

Something had always held her back from him. Something he wanted to hear her explain. Her new reason for not giving them a chance was Robbie’s death. If she wasn’t attracted to him, didn’t like him...regretted the three fantastic weeks they’d spent together...then she only ever had to say that and he’d leave her alone.

She hadn’t, and every time she looked at him, her eyes said the exact opposite was going on. She was attracted to him, liked him...but still held herself out of reach.

She’d only gotten as far as the small circle of shops situated on a paved area above the beach. Trent slowed to a walk. She sat on a wrought-iron bench, hunched over with her face in her hands.

He sat beside her and leaned his forearms on his thighs. “Tonight was a bad idea. Sorry.”

Slowly, she lowered her hands and turned to face him. The silver tracks of her tears shone beneath the streetlight beside her. “I don’t want to go on like this.”

It was painful to see her blue eyes so full of anguish, confusion and pain. He tilted his head toward her hand. “May I?”

She nodded. Releasing his held breath, Trent lifted her hand and put it on his thigh, holding it tightly. Despite the warmth of the night, her fingers were like ice. He rubbed them against his jeans to warm her. “I miss him too, Iz. There was nothing I, or any of us, could’ve done. If for one minute I could’ve saved him, don’t you think I would have?”

“That doesn’t make it any easier for me to be around you.”

“But it isn’t just me, is it?” He kept his voice soft, not wanting to sound accusatory because he wasn’t. It was up to Izzy how she dealt with the grief emanating from her, but that didn’t make it any easier for him to stand by and let her push him and her friends away. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, Iz, but if you won’t give me a chance to be there for you, can’t you at least let Kate back in?”

She slipped her hand from his and stared ahead. “I just need some time, that’s all.”

“It’s been three months. We’re just trying to be there for you.”

“How much time I need is anyone’s guess, but I’m not ready to sit around chatting and laughing as though Robbie’s still here.”

“No one’s asking you—”

“Trent. Please. Just let me do things my way.”

Frustration and helplessness rolled through him. “Why can’t you give us another chance?”

“It’s too complicated.”

“Complicated? I’ve never found anything less complicated.”

Her gaze darkened. “Maybe not the first time around, but it would be different this time. If you don’t understand that—”

“I don’t, so you need to explain it to me.” He hated pushing her, but she needed to say the words clearly before he could accept what was in her heart and mind.

She exhaled a slow breath. “When my parents left...or when I demanded them to...” She shook her head. “They tried so hard to reach me, Trent. Tried to help me through my grief, but in the end none of us were strong enough for the other. Mum and Dad resumed their careers and I was alone. I just don’t trust... Not anymore.”

“You don’t trust that I won’t leave you alone too one day?”

Her gaze bored into his until she looked away into the distance. “Maybe. Those few weeks we were together weren’t enough to make me believe you’ll always be around. I have no one left. I’m not in the right mind to give myself to anyone at the moment, let alone a firefighter. You run into danger every day.” She faced him, her eyes filled with determination. “I can’t deal with that. I don’t want to deal with it.”

“But what about before Robbie died?”

“There is no before Robbie. All I have in my head is since Robbie. How can you not see that?”

He exhaled, lowered his voice in an effort to soften the battle going on inside him. “We were great together. Or did I imagine that? Were you not there with me?”

Her gaze ran over his face, lingered a moment at his mouth before she met his eyes. “I was there. All the way there. That was part of the problem. You’re a great guy and I know if things don’t work out...or if you get hurt working...” She shook her head. “Right now I’m way too needy for someone like you.”

“Needy? You? Iz, you’ve proven over and over how much you stand on your own two feet. Being with someone doesn’t make you needy, it means you’re living. Taking risks.”

Her eyes shadowed with sadness before she looked away once more. “That’s just it. I don’t like risks and never will. You’re completely the wrong guy for me. You’re too...”

Trent tensed as the minuscule shred of hope he had left of being with her snapped and pinged across the pavement in front of them. “Too what?”

She turned and her eyes shone with unshed tears. “Too something. I need to be able to blame you. To blame someone for what happened. If I don’t, if I accept that Robbie’s death was nobody’s fault, then all I’m left with is this irrational anger. What if I can only feel anger all the time? Why would you even want to be around someone like that?”

He stared into her eyes, desperate to gently ease her head to his shoulder and let her cry until she had no more tears, but she’d never allow that to happen. She was too independent. Too strong.

“It will get easier.” Trent swallowed as memories he kept deeply hidden resurfaced. “You won’t believe me right now, but it will.”

“Don’t say that. I’m sick of people telling me that. How can you, someone who has seen people die, burned and scarred, say this will pass?” She pushed to her feet and looked around as though seeking escape. “I’m going home. Thanks for tonight. At least I got out of the apartment for a while and now know working all the time is exactly what I need to do.”

She turned away and Trent let her take a few steps before he released his held breath. “My sister died in a fire when she was twelve. That was the day I knew exactly what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.”

She came to an abrupt halt but didn’t turn around.

He stared at her turned back and stood. “It’s your choice what happens now, Iz. You have some decisions to make, but think very carefully if you still want me and everyone else to stay away. The one thing I can guarantee is that your loss won’t get easier if you try to deal with it alone.”

Slowly, she faced him. The music from the beach boomed, the screaming and laughter mocking and twisting his heart. He wanted to turn around and tell them to shut up. To stride across the space separating him from Izzy so he could take her in his arms and be the one to get her through her pain.

Her chest rose as she took in a breath. “What?”

“My sister. She died in a fire too.”

“I never knew...”

“Because I never told you, Robbie or anyone else in the Cove. I’m telling you now because I know what it’s like, Iz. I’ve felt every single thing you’re feeling and I hate that you won’t let me be with you.”

She stared for a long moment...and then she ran to him.

Trent scooped her into his arms and covered her mouth with his. He kissed her with everything he had. Her lips were soft, her tongue eager and commanding. He held her close and relished the fullness of her breasts pressed against his chest. Her hands moved over his shoulders to the nape of his neck. She clung to him, and for one blessed minute Trent allowed himself to believe someday Izzy Cooper might come to want him as he wanted her.

“Take me home.” She stared into his eyes, her body trembling.

“What?”

“Take me home. Make love to me.”

His heartbeat quickened and every muscle in his body tensed with desire and need. “This can’t be a temporary thing. You have to want me for the long haul.”

“Trent, come on. I’m asking you to—”

“I mean it. I care about you too much to—”

“You’re rejecting me?” Her cheeks darkened.

“I’m not rejecting—”

“No? Then what was all the times you came to the studio with flowers, food and God knows what else about if it wasn’t about getting me back into bed?”

Was she serious? “You think that was about sex?”

“Isn’t it always? Goddamn it, Trent. What’s the matter with you? Put me down.”

As though she were a china doll, he gently eased her to the ground, fighting the need to shake her. “What’s the matter with me? Jesus Christ, Iz.”

“What? You think I’ve got this all wrong? We’re talking about the great Trent Palmer, aren’t we? The brave, handsome firefighter who struts around town with his dark, glossy hair, green eyes and sexy, toe-curling smile. What else am I supposed to think other than you want to have sex with me again? For God’s sake, don’t treat me like a moron.”

He would’ve have been flattered by her summary of him if her voice hadn’t cracked on every syllable. “Iz...”

He reached for her and she held up her hand. “Don’t you touch me.” She pushed the hair back from her face and snatched up her purse that had somehow landed on the asphalt. “At least we both know where we stand. I just offered you sex and you refused. Now I want you to stop coming around to my apartment, the studio and every other damn place and leave me alone.”

He crossed his arms. “I want us to go back to the beginning.”

She huffed a laugh and widened her eyes. “And where is that? Once I dated you, things took off between us at eighty miles an hour. Feelings make things complicated. Sex is good. Sex is hot and needy. Wham, bam and out of the apartment with no one getting hurt. But an actual relationship? No way, no how.” She closed her eyes. “Go and find one of the other girls hanging off your every word to date, because I’m not one of them.”

He clenched his jaw, his previous arousal quashed by his skyrocketing irritation. “I just told you something personal about me for a reason. I don’t want people knowing about my sister or my family’s loss. I told you because I want you to know I can listen. I understand. If this was all about sex, we would’ve gotten past that years ago.”

She opened her eyes and they flickered with hurt even as she lifted her chin. “If you think what happened to your sister hasn’t affected me, you shouldn’t even be able to look at me, let alone be with me. Don’t you understand I’m saying no for your good as well as mine?” Her eyes flooded with tears. “If anything happened to you...if I can’t handle the intimacy between us and end up hurting you...” She raised her hands and shook her head. “This isn’t happening. I’m sorry about your sister. I really am, but—”

“When I target you for sex, you’ll know it, but right now I want you to have a meal with me, laugh and spend some time.”

Trent could’ve sworn he saw a flash of longing in her eyes before she blinked and it was gone. “You really don’t get it, do you? Every day...” She slumped her shoulders and looked deep into his eyes, her gaze soft and spent. “Every day you go into situations that have the potential to kill you.” She looked to the ground. “Maybe, deep inside, I know it wasn’t your fault Robbie died, but how can you expect me to separate my grief for Robbie from my feelings for you?” She met his eyes. “I can’t do this, Trent. Not anymore. I’m sorry.”

“Iz, come on. The job—”

“No. No more.”

Spinning around, she stormed away.

“Goddamn it.” Trent shoved his hand into his hair and held it there.

What now?

* * *

IZZY CLUTCHED THE BUNCH of lilies she held a little tighter, her heart thumping with trepidation. Guilt over how she’d treated Kate, her best friend, lay like a lead weight in her chest. Trent’s words about her rebuffing people’s sympathetic actions and words had kept her awake half the night.

He’d spoken the truth...about a lot of things.

All people wanted to do was help her—especially Kate. It was time Izzy made amends.

Her messed-up feelings about family, trust and forgiveness weren’t Kate’s...they were Izzy’s, and her friend hadn’t deserved Izzy’s mistreatment of their love and friendship.

Taking a deep breath, she approached Kate’s front door and rang the bell.

Swift footsteps sounded from the other side before the door swung open, revealing Kate with her usual wide and welcoming smile. Her curly brown hair was whipped up into a messy knot on top of her head and she wore her uniform of jeans and a shirt, currently dotted with what looked like white paint.

Kate’s smile dissolved. “Wow. It’s you.”

Izzy grimaced and held out the flowers. “For you, with a humungous apology.”

“It’s a cheap shot, considering lilies are my absolute favorite flowers.” Kate took the lilies with a wink, her smile reappearing. “But apology and flowers accepted. Get in here. We have some serious catching up to do.”

Izzy stepped inside and grabbed Kate into a bear hug, almost crushing the flowers in the process. “I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, take a ticket and join the queue.”

Izzy laughed and, arm in arm, she and Kate walked along the hallway into her bright and sunny kitchen.

Kate walked to the sink. “Grab a chair while I wash this paint off my hands and put these flowers in some water.”

“What have you been up to?”

“I’m painting the utility room. Fancied sprucing it up a little.”