Burning Desire Read online

  “On a date?” Carrie shook her head. “You’re supposed to keep your distance.”

  “He’d just rescued Bubbles. I couldn’t say no to that.”

  “Oh, okay. So?”

  “So nothing. He didn’t make a move. I felt like he wanted to, but he didn’t.”

  “Hmm.” Carrie watched the hallway by the restroom. “Well played, Tex McGovern.”

  “What? You think he’s playing me?”

  “It’s what I’d do. I can tell he’s still into you. He’s talking to me, but he keeps looking at you, involving you in the conversation. And you’re lame when it comes to basketball.”

  “It’s boring.”

  “Sacrilege!”

  Bree laughed. “You’re a goof.” After a pause, she said, “How is he playing me?”

  “I don’t know exactly. He might just be giving you what you asked for. But if it was me… I’d do what you said, keep my distance, and make you want me more.”

  “But he can’t know I want him.”

  “I can tell.”

  “Yeah, but you know me.”

  “Aha! I knew you still wanted him.”

  “Damn it. I mean, I’m attracted.” She lowered her voice. “He’s Southern and sexy with a deep voice and big old body. He’s hot. But I’m being careful. Professional. No sex or kissing. No touching. Just friends.”

  “Sure you are. That or you’ve come over to my side of the fence.”

  “Nope. I’m just focused on work right now.”

  Tex left the restroom and headed toward them.

  “I’m not into guys, and I can’t focus on anything but his body as he’s walking toward us. Maybe it’s the model in me. I don’t know. I do know the man is pretty, Bree. As an artist, you should be appreciating his body.”

  “Oh, I am.”

  “And I have to say, even if he’s bad at sex—and with the smooth way he moves, I doubt that’s the case—you still can’t go wrong. His bad will still be pretty good for a normal guy, I’d imagine. At the very least, he’ll look good while he’s being bad in bed.”

  “Shh. He might read lips.”

  Carrie hid her mouth behind her mimosa. “And if he can’t read my lips, he can always hear your loud voice, moron.”

  Bree blushed as Tex rejoined them and tried to hide his smile by taking a sip of coffee. “What’s this about me being bad in bed?”

  ***

  Half an hour later in his truck, Tex apologized. Again. “I’m sorry I made you spit coffee all over yourself.” His voice, still tinged with laughter, sounded gritty. “I had no idea my sex life was so interesting. But I’d really like to know who told you that. It’s not true at all.” He didn’t seem bothered by a need to defend himself. He kept laughing at her.

  Since Carrie had driven her to the restaurant, Bree had ridden with Tex when they’d swung by his friends’ apartment to give them a key along with some details about poor Bubbles. Now they headed to Occidental Square so she could take shots of the Seattle Fallen Firefighters Memorial.

  She wanted to change the subject of why she had been talking about his prowess in bed. “I’ve never taken pictures of the memorial, believe it or not. I know it was built to honor four firefighters who died in the line of duty, but that’s about it.”

  “The tribute is pretty cool, actually. The four died while fighting a warehouse fire. Floor dropped out beneath them. Happened in 1995 in the Chinatown district. Really sad. I like that the city remembers them.”

  She liked that too. “It makes you realize how scary your job is. I’m glad my dad isn’t running into fires anymore. It’s got to be hard for you.”

  “It’s not easy. But it’s worthwhile. That’s how I know it’s the job for me. And let’s be honest, most of our time is downtime—cleaning, resupplying, training. When we do go out, eighty percent of our calls are medical. They’re mostly stressful for the patients. Not us. I just get worried we’ll lose someone. Hasn’t happened yet, but I know it will.” He paused. “Brad and Mack lost a kid last month. It really hit them hard. They did everything they could to help, but it was too late.”

  “How do you do it?”

  “It’s the job. I try to focus on the ones we save.” He shrugged. “How do you do what you do?”

  “It’s not the same at all. No one dies if I wear the wrong dress or use the wrong exposure.”

  “True. But what you do is still important, and it feels right to you. Doesn’t it?”

  He continued to surprise her with his insights and acceptance. A lot of people scoffed at modeling, as if she had to be an empty-headed woman in love with her looks and the idea of fame to get paid to wear clothes. But modeling had been hard work. Long hours, maintaining poses, watching her figure constantly. It had been a challenge to maintain any kind of ego with too many people eager to point out her flaws.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  “Yeah. Thanks.” She put a hand on his knee and squeezed before putting her hand back in her own lap. “So many people make fun of modeling. It’s not easy. Photography isn’t easy either. It’s an art, and like art, it’s tough to make a living at it. But you’re right. I love it. There’s nothing I’d rather be doing.”

  He nodded, his gaze approving.

  She liked the warmth he instilled, how natural it felt to simply talk to him. He listened to her and made eye contact when not watching the road. She just hoped it wasn’t all a ploy to get into her pants.

  After Carrie’s comment in the restaurant, now she was wondering about the meaning behind a lot of what Tex had to say.

  “Anyway, maybe we’ll—”

  The scanner interrupted. A serious fire had broken out in Greenwood.

  Tex turned the wheel and flicked on the sirens. “This could be bad. Get your camera ready, and listen when I tell you to fall back, okay?”

  “I will. Trust me.”

  Tex parked down from the fire and rushed over to one of the officers in charge. He checked in and returned with a handheld radio, likely set with the operational channel and a comms link, through which the firefighters communicated.

  The engine unit had the fire contained within an hour. Bree managed to get several shots while Tex stood with her, helping her past the police barricade but still back from the action.

  She did her best to focus on the actual fire and not the terrible sight of burn victims and crying.

  Three stations had arrived to take the fire in hand. She took as many pictures as she could, convinced several of them would make it into her project. The fire had shattered several windows on the second floor of the building, fortunately not a large building, so less people would have suffered.

  The ladder unit that swung by had been put into use, rescuing a few families that couldn’t access the stairs.

  Tex’s blow-by-blow as he listened to the comms unit in hand filled her in on everything while she took pictures.

  A ruckus in the crowd had her turning, taking more shots, but this time of a heartbroken teenager. “Mom! Grandpa!”

  “Bobby!”

  The officer there tried to keep the teen back, but the boy got through.

  “Shoot. Stay here,” Tex said and darted to intercept the boy before he could reach the responders.

  Bree couldn’t help herself and snapped a few pictures, watching. Tex physically held back the teenager, who stood only a few inches shorter than Tex and looked like a high school wrestler.

  “I live here! My mom and gramps are in there!”

  “Hold on. Stop.” Tex issued commands like a whip, and the boy stopped trying to push past him. “What’s your name?”

  “Bobby Childers.”

  “Okay, Bobby. What’s your mom and grandpa’s name?”

  Bobby told him, and Tex brought the handheld up. “Mallory two, this is McGovern. I have a relative ask
ing about Mona and Todd Childers. Any word on them?” He paused, nodded, then turned to the teen. “Come with me, Bobby. I’ll take you to your mom.” He shot Bree a look, and she nodded.

  “Go.” She waved at the circle of chaos where several medical trucks worked with the victims. In the middle of everything, Tex gave the appearance of surety, of safety. He didn’t waver as he guided the young man toward his family, and she couldn’t help snapping pictures of him working.

  He returned a few minutes later. “Damn. That’s so sad. The boy’s mom is okay, but his grandfather started the fire. Guy had dementia, it seems. They were planning on moving him into an assisted living home next week.”

  Bree blinked back tears. “That’s awful.”

  “Yeah. They were a tight family too. That poor kid is crying his eyes out.”

  She sniffed. “How terrible.”

  He shrugged. “It is what it is.”

  She’d seen that same stoic response from her father after many a rough day at work. She understood. A need to separate from too many negative emotions allowed her father to do his job and help those he could.

  “Do you need to go back in there and help? I’m fine here. I promise I won’t go anywhere near the action.”

  “You’re close enough as it is.” He looked down at her, and something in him seemed to ease. “You okay, Bree?”

  “I’m good. It’s not my house and family in danger.”

  He stroked her cheek once before losing that gentle mien. “I’m just going to let them know I can help if they need it. You sure you’re okay? My job is to take care of you.”

  “Please, go. Helping them is much more important than my pictures.”

  He left but came back soon after. “They have it handled. I’d only be in the way, and I don’t want to step on any toes. Greenwood and Ballard have this. You ready to head home?”

  She sighed. “Yes. It’s been a long day.”

  “And it’s only seven.” He sighed with her. “Some days are longer than others.”

  They took the truck back to her place so he could drop her off, and she unbuckled her seat belt, her hand on the door to leave.

  “I smell like smoke.” To her embarrassment, she teared up, memories of those poor people suffering all she could think about.

  “Hey, hey. It’s okay, Bree.” Tex removed his belt and dragged her closer. He fiddled with the seat and had her in his lap, braced in a hug.

  She felt silly but couldn’t stop crying. “I’m s-sorry. I feel s-stupid.” She sniffled.

  “Aw, darlin’. It’s good to cry. Get it out. You felt for those people. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”

  She tentatively reached up to hug him back, and he squeezed her tighter. The hug felt comforting, not oppressive, and she let herself cry it out, wetting his shirt.

  After a moment, he handed her a handkerchief. “Here. Probably smells like the fire, but it’ll do.”

  Bree gave a hoarse chuckle. “Thanks.” She blew her nose, now extremely embarrassed for having cried over the poor man while he’d been out there actually helping people, doing real work while she just took pictures. “I’m sorry, Tex. I don’t know why I lost it. I’ve never been that close to a real fire while people were hurt, I guess.”

  He leaned back so he could look into her face. “Don’t apologize for having feelings. It’s not easy for any of us, and we’re used to it.”

  She looked into his eyes, seeing the man behind all the come-ons and flirting.

  Time stopped as she tugged him toward her, saw him close his eyes and part his lips. She kissed him, the connection clear and warm. His lips, though firm, felt soft against hers, and she sighed into him, content to sit with him like this forever.

  But an intense need filled her, the desire to deepen the contact overriding sense. She pushed closer, angling her mouth to deepen the kiss. Then she slid her tongue over his lips, into his mouth.

  He gripped her, holding her waist while tentatively kissing her back. He shifted under her legs, and the brush of something firm nudged her thigh.

  Bree’s mind shut off as her body took over. She wanted nothing more than to take him inside her, right here, right now. Overwhelming lust removed any hints of sadness she’d been feeling, and she knew only Tex could satisfy her.

  She felt his heart racing against her palm and smoothed her hands over his chest. She nipped his lip, and he growled, but he still held back.

  “Tex?” she whispered and pulled back to look up at him.

  His eyes had turned dark, his expression tense, his breathing harsh. “Bree… Not…now.” He leaned his head back and swore, long and loud.

  She debated asking then decided to go big. “Did you want to come inside?”

  Tex didn’t give her the yes she’d hoped for. He laughed like a crazy man.

  The prick.

  “Fine.” Now near tears once more, but for a different reason, she made to move from his lap and found he wouldn’t let her.

  “No, wait.” He opened his eyes and stared, and her embarrassment turned to wonder. “We go into your place, I’m gonna fuck you raw. All night. I’m not kidding. I want you.” He drew in a breath when she unconsciously moved against his erection. “But not like this.”

  “Like what, then?” she asked, fascinated. She would have sworn Tex would jump on the chance to have sex with her. Was he that afraid of her father? Perhaps that was it. Ah, well. “It’s my dad, isn’t it?”

  “No.” He dragged her close for a kiss that turned her brain to mush. “Baby, when you and I are together, it’ll be right. Fun, sexy, and lasting a very long time. I fuck you now, I’m done in seconds. You got me too worked up. And you’re still kinda sad.” He wiped her wet cheeks. “God, you’re pretty, Bree.” He kissed her lips once more. “I’ve wanted you since the day I first saw you. I still want you. But I don’t want to take advantage. I like you. A fuck-ton.”

  She blinked. “That’s a lot, right?”

  “Hell, yeah.” He shifted under her and grimaced. “This isn’t a game. I’m not trying to yank you around. But I think we should both go home and think on this. I’m being honest.”

  “I know.” She marveled at this Tex. Serious, handsome, and so dear.

  Then he opened his mouth and ruined everything.

  Chapter Eight

  Tex sat glumly with Bubbles and the guys at his house Wednesday night, drinking beer and listening to some terrible alt-rock crap Mack insisted outsold Brad Paisley any day of the week. He’d held them off with the truth of his disastrous Sunday night with Bree. But after three days of arctic silence with the chick, he knew he needed help.

  They sat around his dining table, the cards and chips out for a night of beer and poker while he tried to figure out how to fix things with Bree. He only had another week of being paired with her, and he knew if he didn’t set things right before they parted, she’d end up never talking to him again.

  “Hold on.” Brad grinned as he petted an enthusiastic Bubbles, who’d taken to his friends as if they’d always been one big, old pack. “You had her on the ropes, the mood was set.”

  “You’d been honest,” Reggie added. “Talking things out.”

  Tex nodded. “I was trying to do right by her.”

  Mack’s brows shot up. “By telling her to really think about what she wanted, because once she had a taste of Tex’s testicles, she’d fall in love and be ruined for all other men?”

  Tex flushed when they laughed at him. “Fuck off. It wasn’t like that.” He paused. “I mean, I did warn her she’d fall for me. They all do.”

  More laughter, which had the damn dog baying. Huh. First time she’d ever done that.

  “I just wanted her to be ready in case we hook up and it fails.”

  Reggie scratched his head. “That’s kind of like proposing by saying, ‘I want you to marry
me, and here’s the prenup for when it falls apart.’”

  Mack hooted.

  Tex groaned. “Honesty gets you shit.”

  Brad set his beer down to shuffle the cards. “Tex, you are so much better than that. What happened to you?”

  He wished he could say. It was like his balls had fried the circuitry in his brain. Kissing Bree had been better than he’d expected, and he’d been expecting some explosive chemistry. He’d been close to shooting his wad just from her sitting on his lap. He wanted her with every breath, heartbeat, and blink of her pretty eyes. And that scared the crap out of him.

  Once with Bree wouldn’t be enough. He knew it. He wanted her to know it too before she committed to sleeping with him.

  “Hell. I should have just slept with her. She’d be hooked on me, and I’d be a happy man now instead of hanging with you pricks.”

  “Real nice.” Reggie glared at him. “Hey, it’s not our fault you stepped on your own dick.”

  “I know, damn it.” Tex dropped his head to the table.

  Mack snickered. “I never thought I’d live to see the day that Tex couldn’t make the magic happen. My world is so much brighter now.”

  “Well, Tex, if it makes you feel any better, we miss you at the station,” Brad said. “The new guy we’ve been training has no sense of humor.”

  “Truth.” Reggie sighed. “And he’s a kiss-ass.”

  Tex lifted his head. “You’re miserable without me? That helps.”

  Bubbles left Brad to nuzzle Tex’s hand. He stroked her. “Hey, girl. At least you love me.”

  “She’s so cute.” Mack left his seat to pet her. “But how can you keep her?” He gave her a final pat and sat back down.

  “I can’t.” Tex felt a bellyful of regret. “She needs a yard and kids. People around her a lot.” He frowned. “You know, I wonder if my family would take her.”

  “You don’t think she’ll get adopted here?” Reggie huffed. “Tex, there are like four million people in Seattle. Someone will take her. She’s a sweetie. Aren’t you, Bubbles?”