Bold And Brave-hearted

The dalmatian leaped onto his chest, nearly knocking him down, and licked his face like a kid with a brand-new sucker.

“Hey, Buttons.” Jay laughed, scratching and petting the dalmatian as though they were old friends. “I’m glad to see you too.”

“I gather you two know each other,” Kim said dryly.

“Sure do.” Jay give the dog another scratch behind the ears. “Kim, meet Mack Buttons, station mascot. Buttons, this is Kimberly Lydell. Be nice to her and she’ll get you on her TV show, make you a star.”

Planting himself right in front of Kim, his tail whipping back and forth, Buttons looked up expectantly with his big brown eyes.

Unable to resist, she petted his head, finding his spotted white coat like smooth velvet. The dog couldn’t be blamed for not knowing she’d been off the air for months and there was little chance she’d make him or anyone else a star anytime soon.

“I’ve never seen a dalmatian with brown spots before,” she said.

“They call this breed a chocolate dalmatian. But we figure somewhere along the way, he got into the wrong can of paint and now we can’t get the brown out.”

She laughed, and the dog gave her a tentative, well-behaved lick with his tongue. “Yes, Mr. Buttons, you’re a good doggie, aren’t you?”

When she looked up, they were surrounded by a half-dozen firefighters all in their neat blue uniforms. Instinctively, she turned her face to the side, trying to avoid their direct looks.

“We aren’t usually that formal around here, calling the dog mister, I mean,” one of them said, flashing her an easy smile. He extended his hand. “I’m Mike Gables, Jay’s partner. He’d introduce us but he doesn’t have very good manners. I’m the one with all the panache around here.”

“Watch out for him, Kim,” Jay warned. “He never has fewer than three women on the string at once, one for each day off during the week.”

“I see.” In spite of herself, she smiled back at Gables, chancing a more direct look. She’d handled flirtatious men before. For the most part they were harmless—but not the kind of man she preferred. Tall, dark and a little aloof was more her style. Though in recent years she’d rarely had time to date, much less develop a relationship.

Two other men crowded forward to introduce themselves, Ben and Bill, equally good-looking but without the flirtatious glint in their eyes. She noted their curious looks, the way they checked out her scarf, but they didn’t appear to dwell on what she was hiding. Maybe they didn’t care.

They were quite solicitous of Jay, however. Eyeing him carefully. Asking how he was feeling. Any news from the doctor.

He shrugged off all their questions.

Another man who’d lingered at the back of the crowd finally spoke up. “Are you going to give the lady a tour of the place, Tolliver, or let these guys keep on ogling your girl?”

“I’m not—” she sputtered.

“Ignore Strong,” Mike told her. “Logan’s just bucking for a promotion.”

“Are you guys ogling?” Jay asked, his forehead furrowed in what had to be mock anger.

“Naw, not us,” they chorused.

“We just don’t know what a good-lookin’ lady like Kim would be doing here with an ugly-butt guy like you,” Mike said.

“Now just wait one darn minute.” Kim drew herself up to her full five feet three inches, tickled in spite of herself at the way the firefighters kidded each other. “I’ll have you know I’ve judged butt contests for KPRX-TV’s day at the beach and Jay’s would rate—” With an exaggerated effort, she took a look at Jay’s rear end encased in tight fitting jeans. Definitely a ten. “At least a nine.”

The guys hooted and hollered.

“Aw, come on,” Jay complained, but he was grinning too, the squint lines at the corners of his eyes visible beneath his dark glasses. “Gimme at least a nine and a half.”

“If you’re very nice to me, maybe I’ll let you appeal the ruling of the judges.”

The entire conversation deteriorated from that point on. Keeping a straight face was next to impossible, Kim’s self-consciousness about her scars slipping away under the sheer pressure of the firefighters’ camaraderie.

And then suddenly, a high-pitched tone sounded, ear-splitting. Before it had stopped, the men standing around Kim scattered, running to their fire engines, slipping their feet into boots parked beside the trucks, pulling up heavy pants, hooking suspenders over their shoulders and grabbing turnout coats. Even the dog scampered off, leaping into the cab of one of the engines. It all happened like a well-choreographed ballet to the sound of a squawking radio that dispatched the helmeted dancers.

Jay took her arm. “We need to get out of the way.”

He didn’t hesitate but knew exactly the direction they should go to avoid being run over by the trucks that had already started their engines. They waited by a wall while the fire trucks rolled out of the station, one by one, sirens wailing.

When they were gone, Jay lowered his head. His shoulders shook and she saw his chin quiver. In a futile effort, he whipped off his glasses and wiped at his eyes, forgetting the patches were in the way.

“Jay?”

He shook his head.

“Let it out, Jay. It’s okay.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to swallow. “God, I miss that.”

Her heart aching for him, Kim did the only thing she knew how to do. There were no words to comfort Jay in his grief, so she simply took him in her arms and held him …as he had once held her when she was trapped beneath a pile of rubble. She hoped somehow she could give to him the strength and courage he had once shared with her.

Chapter Three

Jay stiffened and jerked back. Not that he didn’t like having Kim’s arms around him, her exquisite breasts pillowing against his chest, the floral scent of her hair tantalizing his senses.

He did.

But he hated like hell for her to see his weakness. To pity him.

Grasping her slender shoulders, he shifted her away, and immediately missed her closeness, the heat of her body blending with his. He shuddered as if a cold blast of air had swept between them.

“So,” he said, trying to cover his sense of loss. “You want a tour of the place?”

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

He heard an unfamiliar chill in her voice—a voice normally so warm and arousing, sexy as hell—and he silently chided himself for hurting her feelings. The fact that he didn’t want her help didn’t make her offer any less generous.

“No bother,” he said softly. “We’re all pretty proud of the place.”

“Fine then, if that’s what you’d like to do.”

Taking a moment to regain his bearings, mentally recalling where the door to the offices was located, trying not to make it obvious, he ran his hand along the wall until he came to the doorjamb. He shoved the door open and ushered her inside.

Except for the sound of the chief’s secretary talking on the phone, the interior hallway was quiet now that the station was empty of firefighters. No laughing. No bantering voices. The things he loved most about being on the job.

“Where was the fire?” she asked, sliding her arm through his. “I couldn’t understand what they were saying over the loudspeaker.”

“An apartment fire on Toledo. Second floor.”