How to Seduce a Fireman

Quinn crumpled the empty French fry bag and shoved it into their take-out tote. His arms angled over his raised knees. “Look, I know you’re pissed, but you need someone to teach you a few things.”

The can of Coors stilled near her lips. “Oh, really? I suppose you are the fountain of feminine knowledge.” She finished off the beer. Between the greasy fries and three beers, her stomach had expanded to the size of Eagle Lake.

“I know enough not to take a drink of anything I’ve walked away from to use the restroom or dance. Someone could easily slip in a date rape drug. Remember that.”

She nodded and belched. “Got it. Quinn is afraid of being raped.”

He grabbed her shoulders and pressed her down on the blanket. “You think this is funny?” His breath skimmed her face. “If you’re not more aware of your surroundings, one day you’re going to wake up in a strange place, naked, sore and bleeding from the rectum. You won’t know who or how many men have had you…or in what ways.”

How dare he? “I’m not that kind of person.” Her stomach rolled in time with the waves.

He tossed his hat aside and his eyes widened in the moonlight. “Are you that naïve? The drug will render you powerless. Read up on it. You dress in scanty I’m-yours-for-the-taking clothes and sashay into a bar? No wonder guys come flocking over. Hell, you’re a damn attractive woman, Cassie.”

“Just not attractive enough for you.”

“Don’t you get it? Our problem isn’t with you. It’s with me.”

She pushed him aside and sat. The shoreline seemed to tilt for a few seconds. She glanced at Quinn over her shoulder. “Are you gay?”

“Hell no, I’m not gay.”

“Oh yeah? Show me.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Oh no, little one. I’m not falling for that challenge.”

“And I’m not begging anymore. I’m through.” Her pride could only take so much trampling. She stood and bent to gather their trash. It took three tries to grab an empty beer can. Damn thing kept moving. “Take me home, Quinn. My ego can’t survive another beating.”

He stood and reached for her. “Peanut.”

“I’m finished. I love you, but I have to love myself more.” She hurried to one of the nearby beach trash receptacles and tossed everything away, including her hopes and dreams. Quinn wasn’t far behind as she trudged through the sand toward his Wrangler. She’d lost everything.

First her parents. Then, not long ago, her beauty shop had burned to the ground a mere ten days after the grand opening. Until renovations were complete in the little strip mall where her business once stood, she was working part-time at a national chain of salons in a larger, more modern shopping mall. Now, Quinn had made it all too clear they could never have a romantic relationship. She’d made such a fool of herself, mooning over him at the station, she couldn’t step foot in there again.

The world spun for a few seconds, and she wrapped her arms around the trunk of a palm tree to keep from sliding off the planet. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead and neck. She swallowed convulsively.

“Cassie?” Quinn’s hands were at her waist. “What’s wrong?”

She leaned over and vomited until everything she’d eaten and drank in the last day, or maybe the past week, was purged from her stomach. Quinn scooped her into his arms and ran with her to his Wrangler.

CHAPTER FOUR (#u3fd04c6f-0cba-5c9f-9b93-90ce5838dc84)

Quinn thumbed Wolf’s number on his cell. “Did I wake you?”

“No. Watching a flick with the guys. Did you find my sister?”

“I’ve got her in the Jeep with me. She got sick and passed out. You want to call Becca and tell her I’m on my way with Cassie?”

“What did you do? Get her drunk?”

Quinn snorted. “Hell, she did that her damn self.” He ended the call before Wolf could fire off more questions.

The lights were on at Becca’s townhouse and the front door hung open. Einstein, her German shepherd, barked from the yard where she walked him. Quinn crouched, bracing himself. “Hey, buddy!” Einstein barreled toward him, his large paws making contact with Quinn’s shoulders and pushing him against the front tire of his vehicle. A wet tongue slurped across his face. “Yeah, I like you, too.” He stood and the dog sat at his feet, panting.

“Is she still asleep?” Becca leaned to capture Einstein’s leash.

“I think it’s more a matter of being passed out than asleep. She was doing shots. Then we ate some greasy food at Mossie’s and she guzzled a few beers.”

Becca’s lips pursed and she forked her fingers in her red hair. “Wolf’s going to give her such a lecture. You know how protective he is where his family’s concerned.”

Boy, did he ever. His neck still throbbed at times. “I’ll run interference on that as best I can.” He glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping form slumped in the passenger seat. The street light in front of his vehicle created a yellow glare over Cassie’s pretty face. “I said a lot of things to hurt her.”

Wolf’s fiancée stepped toward him. “Why? Why do you hold her at arm’s length when it’s obvious you care for her?”

He shook his head. “No. I don’t.” Maybe if he told this damn lie enough he’d start to believe it himself. “Hell, Becca, she’s just a friend. We hang out. Nothing more.”

Einstein whined and Becca bent to scratch his neck. “Who was she?” The redhead straightened and stared him straight in the eyes. “Who was the woman in your past who hurt you so badly you’re afraid to care again, to love again?” Her head tilted to the side as if waiting for a name, an explanation. “Because I’m not buying the load of bull you’re trying to shovel on everyone.”

Quinn forced a chuckle. “You interviewing me for that blog of yours or your newspaper column?” Becca wrote a popular and sometimes snarky blog entitled “The Things Men Do.” She’d used it as a stepping stone to getting her own column in the local newspaper.

She glanced down the street, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned. Her open hand gave a dismissive wave. “You forget. I was once in your place. Scarred and scared and determined to outrun Wolf.” She shot him a quick glance. “It won’t happen, you know. Once one of those Wolfords set his or her sights on someone, that person doesn’t stand a chance. I think it’s a family trait.”

“Didn’t take him long to capture you.” Less than two months after moving into the townhouse next door, Wolf had a diamond on Becca’s finger. He’d storm-crashed through the walls she’d erected around her heart after her ex-husband left her a year earlier.

No one, including the woman in front of him, could understand why Quinn lived behind an emotional fortress. After the cluster-fuck of his mission in Chile, he’d encased his warped heart in cold, hard lead. Renata’s betrayal, the ensuing loss of four members of his team and the damage to his reputation with the agency had pretty much corroded the hell out of his soul. Putting a bullet between Renata’s scheming eyes had further twisted him so severely inside, he wasn’t fit for anyone, much less someone as sweet as Cassie. She was sunshine to his darkness, emotional openness to his secrets, purity to his evil. Yet, damn if he wouldn’t give his right nut for things to be different. Yeah, crap into your ball cap and wish, Gallagher, and all you’re gonna have is a hatful of shit.

He exhaled a long sigh, pushing his dark thoughts to the dank recesses of his mind. “Where do you want me to put Cassie? I need to get back to the station.” He had a long night of thinking and planning ahead of him. Before he’d let Cassie leave her family, he’d resign from the fire and rescue station and head for parts unknown—or home. His stomach cramped at that thought. Wouldn’t his old man just shit a brick if he returned to the Truman Building, near the White House, or back to the Pentagon, across from Arlington?

“In the guest bedroom upstairs.” Becca pivoted and pointed toward her front door. “Ah…there’s ibuprofen in the upper cabinet to the left of the kitchen sink, if you can get her to take them. Otherwise she’s going to have a terrible headache in the morning. Bottled water’s in the refrigerator. If you think you can handle Cassie by yourself, I’ll take Einstein for his walk before bedtime.”

“Sure. No problem.” If Becca and the dog left, she’d take her inquiring mind along with her. Damn if she didn’t read him too well.

“Put Cassie in the blue bedroom at the top of the stairs and close the door behind you.” She patted her pocket. “I’ve got my key.”

“Okay, will do.” He circled the front of the Wrangler and unlocked the door to lift Cassie out. Before he did, he unlocked the glove box and retrieved her birthday gift, shoving it into the interior pocket of his jean jacket. After snatching her purse, he slung his unconscious passenger over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Gentle snoring drifted from her lips and her appealing fragrance of peaches and cream filled his nostrils, as did the stench of vomit and Dustin’s strong aftershave. Jesus, what an unholy combination.

Once inside, he strolled through Becca’s townhouse to her kitchen to retrieve the water and headache medicine. His gaze drifted to a framed cross-stitch picture of Einstein hanging on Becca’s dining room wall. No doubt the crafty person who’d made it was the same individual who’d sewn and framed the fireman’s insignia hanging in his living room. Cassie believed in giving gifts she’d made herself. His arms tightened around her legs, molding her to him. He’d never met anyone as selfless as she.

The birthday gift he’d tucked into his jacket pocket rubbed against his chest as he ascended the steps. It was a present he should never have bought her. Yet it was the only thing he’d found during his long hours of searching that even came close to suiting her personality. After all that passed between them tonight, giving it to her probably wasn’t a wise choice. He should take it back to the jewelers for a refund. Hell, the thing was solid gold and the diamonds top quality.

He gnashed his teeth in resolve. He’d be damned if another woman would ever wear her necklace.

Cassie groaned and shifted on the bed once he laid her down and flicked on the bedside lamp. Her dark hair with a splash of red dye in the front feathered across the pillow. He set the water and bottle of ibuprofen on the table before slipping off her red stilettos. Pretty red toenails greeted him, and he rubbed them, brushing off a few grains of sand.

He rolled her to her side, unzipped the back of her red leather skirt and snaked it down over her hips. Holy hell. He pinched his eyes shut. A red lace thong. One quick yank and he had the skirt pooled on the bottom of the bed. He forked his fingers through his hair in frustration, his need growing greater by the second. You cannot freaking touch her, man.

Next would be her sweater. If she hadn’t thrown up, he’d let her sleep in it. But waking up reeking of vomit would only acerbate the headache she was sure to have. Lifting one arm at a time, he worked them out of the pullover.

The jostling pulled her from a deep slumber.