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She flashed him a heart-melting smile. “No, I’m great. I need to get Einstein back to his owners and then I’ll be over.”
Boyd was sipping his Coke when Graci-Ella carried a canvas bag over to the bench. “How long have Wolf and Becca been married? They seem so much in love.”
“A shade over three years. He bought a townhouse next to hers and couldn’t keep his eyes off her as she took her daily jog with the dog. He put out a lot of effort to get her to date him and, thank goodness for the guys at the station, she finally gave in. There’s nothing worse than a man who has his heart set on a woman and can’t make any progress with her.”
Her blue eyes fixated on his. “Women are no different when they want to know a man better. In fact, sometimes we can be kinda sneaky about getting his attention.” She shoulder bumped his and he choked on his Coke, rasping to breathe.
She straddled his lap and leaned over to pound his back. He got an up close and personal glimpse down her tank top. Now he knew where she stored a pencil, a thin pencil because there was very little room between her firm breasts. Struggling with the urge to cross the line and touch them with his fingers or tongue or face, he squeezed the bottle of Coke in a fit of stress. Soda shot upwards. Graci-Ella laughed as she wiped it off her face and he soon found himself joining in. Hell, it was either laugh or slither away in humiliation.
A narrow finger ran over his chin. “You’ve got a scrape here. Want me to kiss it and make it better?”
His mouth had gone dry, too dry to talk; so he just nodded. Her lips gently covered where he’d bumped his chin on the windowsill. His hands covered her back and he inhaled whatever get-your-sex-here perfume she wore.
She moved off his lap to sit on the bench again, and his heart began beating once more. “I think I sat on your spilled soda. My ass is wet.”
God help me. I can’t think of her ass—dry or wet.
“What did you want to talk about, Graci-Ella?” He bent and set his crunched can on the ground.
“I’d like for you to be honest about why you won’t even consider posing for the calendar I’m doing. You’re the best looking guy on the squad. You should be plastered across the front of the cover.”
Years had gone by since he’d been complimented with such enthusiasm. He wasn’t so sure he believed her or felt comfortable with her praise. “My reasons are legal and pertain to the person I love most in this world—my son.”
“How so?” Graci-Ella took off her sneakers and slid her naked soles back and forth in the grass. “These were not the best sneakers to run in.”
“Says the woman who wears stilettoes to work.” He patted his thighs. “Put your feet up here and I’ll rub them while we talk.” She pulled her canvas bag onto the bench and lay her head on it as she stretched out on the seat of the bench. He tried not to focus on her hot pink toenail polish as he explained his legal circumstances as well as Matt’s health.
Every so often, she’d ask a question or moan if his thumbs rotated over a tender spot. “Yes, but since you’ll be wearing jeans, no one—not even a judge—would label it as obscene. Especially for something to help the local foodbank.”
“I can’t take that chance, Graci-Ella. Matt depends on me to keep him safe. Everyone wants to give me legal advice today. First the captain, then Quinn and now you. My lawyer told me to lead an exemplary life, and I’ve tried my damndest.”
“Is your divorce final?”
“Yes. Thank God. She’s someone else’s problem now. She lives with a guy who gives off bad vibes. I think he may be dealing. I don’t want Matt around that danger.”
“Then you’re free to date.” She shifted the bag she rested her head on. “I wouldn’t suggest having a parade of different women in and out of your house, but a date now and then does not make you less of a parent. Not in the eyes of the law.”
“Oh yeah? How would you know?”
“Because I’m a lawyer.”
His hands stilled. I will be damned. “Would you mind repeating that?”
She straightened and slipped her feet off his thighs. “I said I’m a lawyer. Don’t you narrow your eyes at me like that. I wouldn’t be crazy about dating a man who works a dangerous profession, but I’d alter my way of thinking to date you.” A blush slapped both her cheeks, and she glanced away, exhaling through pursed lips. “Wow, that was bold. I shouldn’t have said that. I apologize.”
He wrapped her ponytail around his wrist, brought her face to his and locked his eyes on hers. “Are you being honest here? I’ll be damned if I’ll be played again.”
“I’d enjoy getting to know you better. There are some things I like about you, especially your dedication to your son.”
“I’d enjoy spending more time with you, too, and I never expected to say that again.” He lowered his face to hers and inhaled her intoxicating essence, becoming dizzy with each breath.
The fire alarm went off and the dispatcher’s voice traveled over the outside speakers giving the location and type of fire.
Boyd rubbed his cheek against Graci-Ella’s. “Duty calls. Gotta run, dammit.” His lips barely dragged across hers before he took off on a run, cursing whoever or whatever started that blaze.
CHAPTER FOUR (#uc2189958-7dfc-5e52-a6aa-bb04542d1dea)
Saturday, after a breakfast meeting with a client, Graci-Ella hurried into the big-chain hardware store, a list of items the building manager had recommended for her little office redecoration jotted on a sticky note.
In fact, she nearly danced through the large chain hardware store as she picked out a rug for under her client chairs, a lamp for her desk and paint. She chose a cheery shade of yellow for the wall with the window and a paler tint of yellow for the other three walls. Jo-Jo said he’d do the painting if she bought the paint, and also install a ceiling fan if she purchased a new one.
And, of course, the palm leaf shaped fan she fell in love with was stacked on the top shelf of boxed fans. She tried reaching. Tried jumping to slide a corner out far enough she could grab it on her next jump, but that didn’t work either. The darn box was just too heavy, even though the fan was small.
“Need some help?” A pair of hands encircled her waist and she spun—in shock and ready to knee some guy in the balls—only to glare into Boyd’s grey eyes. “Need me to lift you a few inches?” Wrinkles creased the corners of his eyes as a slow, sexy grin spread. My God, what a smile could do to his severe expression.
He had one of those faces of angles and planes that made a man look hard-edged, especially with that perpetual whiskered scruff he had going on. Her fingers itched to sift through his wavy, dark hair that barely rubbed the neckline of his t-shirt. And he smelled of woodsy soap.
Beat, heart, beat!
“I’m betting you could reach it for me.” Shut up, are you stupid? her hormones hissed. Let him keep his hands on you and lift you. Don’t you want to feel his strength? Good Lord, her female bits hadn’t been this bossy in ages.
“True.” His thumbs rubbed slow circles at her waist, sending “come to me” signals to her hormones in Morse code. “But I think Confucius said, ‘a job worth doing is worth doing in twos.’”
She laughed. “He did not. You just made that up.”
“Turn around and I’ll lift you. Think you can handle the weight of the box once you get it in your hands?”
“Oh, I can handle the weight. I could even handle you, once I got you in my hands.” That’s telling him, her female bits squealed. Look at his shocked expression.
He leaned and pressed his lips to her ear and repeated his command in a sensual whisper. “Think you can handle the weight once you get it in your hands?”
Oh, sweet climax. It was a good thing he was there to lift her because her legs had just turned to mush. Plus, she was going to have to go through check-out wearing wet panties. Better to go through the self-serve aisle—and damn quickly. She needed her vibrator.
By the time her feet hit the floor again, her back had rubbed against every delectable hard inch of his pecs and abs and, if she wasn’t mistaken, one rock-solid erection. Maybe she needed two or three fans for her office.
He took the box from her arms and set it in her cart. “Gee, you’re getting a lot of stuff here. Doing some redecorating at home?”
“No. In my tiny office at the law firm where I work.”
A groan tumbled from his throat. “Please I’m trying to forget you’re a lawyer. I’m pretending you’re one sexy photographer and nothing more.”
“But I am an attorney.” She planted a fist on her hip and hiked her chin at his scowl. “It’s an honorable profession.” Why did she feel the need to defend herself? “We’re not all bad. Just at certain times.” Now why the hell did I say that?
“Yes, I suppose there are some good lawyers. I know there are a few who smell like sin.” He leaned in and inhaled her fragrance and she trembled in response. The corners of his lips twitched and one of his dark eyebrows rose. “What do you need next?”
“Wh…what?” The man had just boosted her as if she weighed no more than a basketball and then slid her over his erection—one that resembled a fire hose full to bursting…set her hormones in a line dance to do the bump and grind to, “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love Baby.”
He backed her against the shelves, his fingertips lightly skimming the skin of her arms. “What else do you need, Ms. Good and Bad Attorney? Can I help you with it?”
For the life of her, she couldn’t recall why she’d come in this hardware store. A new pair of high heels? Shampoo? Ice Cream? Her mind was all befuddled. All she could see were intense steel-gray eyes, darkened and hooded with desire. His head tilted as if he were studying her. Her mental focus floated away on an internal heated breeze.
I need to date more.
Those man-hungry hormones of hers were pushing her closer to him and making her lips pucker in the most embarrassing way. Could anything be more humiliating? Like he would ever kiss her. And could she survive if he did? For this guy oozed an excess of testosterone. She cleared her throat. “Plant hooks for those aluminum strips that hold up ceiling tiles.”
He placed one hand on the small of her back and pushed her cart with his other. “Hey, that’s what I’m here for. We can find them together. Suddenly, the captain’s on a plant kick, so he sent me for hooks and some hanging plants. He’ll need to keep Emily away from them though. The woman has a black thumb.”
“You seem in a happier mood today.”
“Talking to you yesterday helped. Plus, I called my lawyer this morning and pressed him for some answers. Old Henry wasn’t too pleased. He prefers safety, but I got him to admit I could date—occasionally.”
“Henry? Not George Henry, mister conservative from the fifties.” Geesh, no wonder he had Boyd afraid to lead a normal life.
Boyd chuckled. “Yeah, he is in a bit of a time warp. He’s good, though, right?”
“Yes. Very thorough.” They turned into another aisle, his hand still on the small of her back.
“You know, I recognized your high heel clattering and knew you were in the store somewhere. You have a distinctive walk, as if you’re almost running. Few women can manage that in heels as high as you wear.”
“You must have good ears.” Being near him had her in a happy Zen place.
He laughed. “I’m a dad. I can hear a six-year old doing something he shouldn’t be doing at twenty paces. I call it daddy hearing. Gotta admit, I dig your blue toenail polish to match your dark blue stilettoes.”
“Most men don’t notice things like that.”
“I’m a fireman. I’m taught to be super observant.”
They talked while they shopped and picked out plants. She was surprised to learn he was a gentle giant. Quick to help her choose things. He also seemed to be leaning close to her neck as if he were smelling her perfume. Normally, she’d confront a guy about invading her personal space, but he invaded in such a sweet way.
“I need to pick up a case of chrome cleaner for the station. If you’ll walk along with me, I can help you load the fan and paint and stuff into your car, after we check out. Besides, my male plants are hanging from your cart watching your female plants.”
She rested her hands on her hips. “Oh? And how do you know yours are males?”
He slapped his chest with his palm and feigned astonishment. “Do you think a macho man like me would…” he leaned in to whisper in her ear, “choose feminine plants?”
The way he’d uttered the word plants as if it were something utterly obscene made her laugh out loud. “Okay, I’ll walk along with you. Only because I think you need a keeper.” Well, there was also the thought of his leaning into the back of her RAV-4, loading her things.
Normally, she wasn’t one to play the weak woman role, but he wore worn jeans that hugged every curve and showcased every bunch and stretch of his thigh muscles as he moved. Was she a perverted woman for wanting to see him bend over in those jeans? It was a simple question and, frankly, Charlotte, she didn’t give a damn.
She walked him to her car and unlocked the hatch. He grabbed two cans of paint and bent over to place them inside.
Mental fist pump. Score!
Next, he grabbed the boxed fan and bent over to put it in.
Sweet Lawd, I’m going to hyperventilate in a second. What an ass he’s got!
He picked up a brass pot and a bag of soil she was going to use to repot a palm for one corner of her office.
Would he notice if I bit his ass? Just once?
With gentle movements, he set her plants inside.
God, if my panties get any wetter, I’ll have to swim to my door. Just look at how his jeans fit. Like lover’s hands.
Boyd turned to her. “Are you feeling okay? You’re flushed and breathing rapid.” He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “Are you a diabetic? Do you need to eat?”
Now, there was a loaded question if ever she’d heard one.
She waved an open hand. “Oh, I’m fine. Really. You can put the rolled carpet on my ass…er…seat.” She laughed weakly. I am such an idiot!
He stood there and stared at her as if he’d heard the last marble roll out of her head. “Graci-Ella, were you watching me a little too closely as I was bending over to load your car?”
Humiliation hopped in. “Of…of course not!”
He leaned next to her ear. “I hoped you hadn’t noticed I’m going commando.”
A couple seagulls cawed overhead. Graci-Ella gasped and backhanded his abs. “That was TMI, buster.”
“Now don’t get angry with me. If I offended you, I apologize. Other than the women at the station, I haven’t talked to many since my divorce. Obviously, I’m rusty as hell.” He glanced away for a few seconds. “For all I know, you’re already involved with someone. Although I’d like to think you’d tell me not to touch you, if you were.”
“I’m not seeing anyone. And, yes, I’d have told you to back off if I was.”
“I’ve got my beeper on in case there’s an emergency somewhere. Would you like to go to Ryder’s Health Bar for a fruit smoothie?”
“I’ve heard of that place, but I’ve never been there. Sounds great.”
“Ryder dates Ivy Jo. He’ll enjoy meeting you since you’ll be taking pictures of his Sugar Doll, as he calls her. I guess we should both drive our cars in case I have to leave in a hurry.”
“Okay. I’ll follow you then.”
He leaned and rubbed his cheek against hers the way he’d done last night. For some reason, she found it the most sensual action. Her hands slipped up his t-shirt over hardened muscles. “Sweetness, you need to think long and hard about dating a man with a child. Especially with a little boy, who has a physical condition that can ruin date plans at the last minute. There will also be times when we’ll have little privacy. Matt loves to be included. I can’t say he’s spoiled, but he is excitable. There’s no use in our starting a relationship if that kind of life doesn’t appeal to you. Take your time and think it through. My work hours are a hindrance, as well. I work forty-eight hour shifts and then have forty-eight off.”
He retreated and pushed the cart with his case of chrome cleaner and male plants to his gray Mustang.
She got in her car and closed the door, watching him in her rearview mirror as her female parts cooled down. There was something appealing about the man—his honesty, his sexuality and his devotion to his son.
Could she become involved with a man and his child? The kind of relationship she had with the man was more important. How he treated her. She’d always gotten along well with children and was the most popular babysitter in her hometown neighborhood when she was a teenager.
She followed him a few blocks to street with touristy shops. Boyd helped her out of her car, took her hand and opened the door to the cool interior of Ryder’s. Jamaican music whispered from the speakers. Ryder’s bald head rose from the plate of fruit he was fixing for a customer. A wide smile greeted them both. “Tiny, my man! Who’s the doll you’ve got your fingers locked with?” He jerked his chin to two empty stools in front of him. “Sit and introduce me.”
“Ryder, this is Graci-Ella, the photographer who’s doing the calendar for the fire department.”
Ryder wiped his hands on a paper towel and passed the fruit tray to a waitress. Then he crossed his muscled arms and leaned back against the counter where he stored the glasses and flavorings. “Oh, I know one little Sugar Doll who’s going to get her pretty ass smacked. She told me the photographer was an ex-Ranger and kind of cute.” He snatched a bar rag and wiped circles in front of them both. “She had me worked up into quite a jealous lather, me being an ex-SEAL and her main squeeze.” He grinned. “Oh, she will so pay.” He winked at Graci-Ella. “God, I do love my Ivy Jo. How come you women have to get us all worked up? Hell, it took three times to get me to calm down enough to agree to it. Had she told me someone like you was the person taking the pictures, I’d have agreed right away.”
“Maybe that’s why she fibbed a little. Look at what she got out of it.” Graci-Ella winked back. Boyd’s knee leaned against her thigh and her sex started pulsing.
Ryder laughed. “Yeah, you got me there. So, what are you two having?”
