Heat: A Friends to Lovers Firefighter Romance Page 5

  Our first kiss.

  Still, she didn’t pull away. Not when I raised one of her knees until we could grind together. Not when our hearts were pumping in time and our kisses left us gasping for breath.

  Not even when she slid one hand down low, repositioning me against her pussy. Dry humping until the end of our first kiss.

  Gently, I lowered her leg, and eased off the kisses until our breathing almost returned to normal. Only then, did our lips retreat. I assumed that mine looked just as swollen and bruised as Zoe’s.

  “I’ve never—” I wanted to say that I’d never had a first kiss like it, but then again, I couldn’t remember ever having a kiss like that.

  “Kissed a woman?” She laughed, undoing her hair tie and smoothing a new ponytail into a messy bun. “Then, let me be the first to tell you that you definitely have aptitude.”

  “Woman!” I warned as she backed away. Dancing in the ash all the way back to the picnic table.

  “At least I know this won’t be a wasted meal.” My turn to joke, laying out the spread of chicken, salads, fresh crusty white rolls and deep-fried chips that would have been hot when we arrived, but they’d still taste good with the thermos of gravy.

  “How so?”

  “I wanted to know what it would be like to kiss the most beautiful woman in the world, and now I have. All for the price of a meal.”

  “Imagine what you’d get for the price of a movie!”

  “Woman!”

  “I have a name.”

  “It’s a beautiful name, like the woman who wears it. But you’re right, you have a name. I just can’t imagine calling it out when we’re both wearing clothes.”

  “If you’ve got a decent bottle of wine, clothes might not be your problem.”

  “What would be?”

  “You must be the only man alive who’d bring a girl home, but not have a bed to lie on!” She waved around the ash embers of what used to be my home. Yes, we could finally start to laugh about how we ended up here.

  Because we were, together.

  “Woman!”

  Zoe

  Too nervous to eat, I only picked at my food until Reece started hand feeding me. Wrapping chicken and chips in a slice of bread, dipping into the rich gravy before wiping it across my lips. Impossible to resist.

  The food and Reece.

  I’d tasted his heart.

  There was no other explaining it. In that kiss, our first ever kiss, I’d felt his heart in my mouth. Felt the, well if it wasn’t love, then it was something just as powerful.

  “I’m sorry.” He leaned back in the plastic chair, almost overbalancing in the soft earth. “You deserved better for our first date. I should have taken you into town or away for the weekend, but I didn’t want to presume—”

  “This is perfect.”

  “You deserve—”

  I cut him off again. My turn to offer him a gravy coated chip.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way. After all, this is our town. Basically, all that’s left of it is the ash and embers.”

  “Well, there are a couple of bricks and partial beams still lying around.”

  “But don’t you see, we are like those green tree sprouts. Building something. All of us who stayed, are building something. We’re not running away and pretending the bad shit either didn’t happen or doesn’t exist.”

  “But I will take you to the movies. Soon.”

  “And I will give you more than the best kiss of my life.”

  “Best?”

  “Nothing can compare. I mean, I’ve heard about panty stripping kisses, but you almost tore the skin from my body with that one.”

  “Do you think we can recreate it, later?”

  Dearest Reece, wanted to know how far I’d be prepared to go on our first date. Silly man, we already lived together—or at least lived on the same floor at the pub.

  “If we don’t at first, we can keep going until we die trying.”

  “This is the craziest first date, ever.”

  “How are you going to describe it back at the pub?” I didn’t peg Reece for the kiss and tell kind of guy, but with so many people wishing us well and making today happen, we were bound to get questions that wouldn’t be answered with a blushing smile.

  “I figure we do what we’ve been doing. Meet up for breakfast and dinner, hang out and play pool or darts with the guys.”

  “So, nothing’s changed for you?” I didn’t believe it.

  “Other than my hand is either going to be wrapped around yours, or around your waist, or grabbing your ass.”

  “Then you’d better expect my hand to be either in your hand, counting your abs, or—” I slowly lowered my eyes to the bulge that hadn’t quite gone away over lunch.

  “Woman!”

  “I wonder if it’s big enough.”

  I kept a straight face for as long as possible before cupping his chin in one hand and enjoying another kiss. Exploring the plumpness of his lips, while our bodies fought against the sharp edge of the picnic table.

  “I guess my hand is big enough to wrap around anything important!”

  “Zoe, Zoe, Zoe. You are going to be the death of me.”

  “And here I was, wanting to give you the kiss of life.”

  Reece made me stand back, not letting me help kick around the remains of his home looking for anything that survived. “As much as I’d love to mark that pretty white skirt with ash handprints, let’s not tempt fate by smothering you in dust.”

  “Where exactly would you put those handprints, after all, they might answer any questions or at least stop people from asking how our date went.” He didn’t seem to mind the layer of dirt around the hem of his black pants. One of the things I admired about Reece was his lack of manscaping. It was as if he stepped off a runway perfectly formed and he was confident of his audience.

  “I found a box!”

  In the fading sun, his silhouette carved out perfection. I didn’t need to see his face to hear his smile. A kid in a candy store—or a child who didn’t expect Santa to leave anything under the tree.

  “What’s in it?”

  Carefully, he dug out a metal box, larger than a shoebox but smaller than a box of A4 paper.

  “What did you find?” Ignoring the grey ash that now hemmed my skirt, I needed to see Reece’s face. Be close enough to touch him. To be touched. Whatever he needed.

  “My parents.”

  “I thought they were alive.”

  “They are, but this should have their photos, my grandparents’ weddings and my parents baby photos, christenings and their wedding. Before all photos went digital.”

  Brushing the ornate metal clear, he played with the latch.

  Reece didn’t have to say.

  I knew.

  What if there was hope the photos had survived, only to be disappointed.

  “Let’s take it to the table. You want to be sitting down to go through it.”

  “But what if?”

  “You want to look on your own?” I understood. Some grief was too private to be shared.

  “No, what if you see me cry on our first date?”

  “Then you’d better ask me for a second date to make up for it. Now, come on and open the bloody box.”

  Gentle persuasion. My giant of a man allowed me to lead him to the plastic table. The chair creaking under his weight. As for me, I stood behind him, arms wrapped around his chest. He had to open the box alone, but he’d never be alone. Not if I had anything to do with it.

  We’d fast forward through years of slow burn dating to reach a point in our relationship within hours. No need to ask if we were exclusive or if there was going to be a tomorrow.

  We just, were.

  “Reece?”

  “Until I open it, there’s still hope.”

  “I know. You don’t have to do it now, but could you sleep tonight not knowing?”

  “Depends, will you be beside me?”

  “Depends,” I countered. “Can we find somewhere other than the pub, for our first night together.”

  It wasn’t even a question. These months of indecision had been wasting time. Reece and I fit together as naturally as peanut butter and jelly—or avocado on toast.

  “So, you want me to open the box?”

  “I want you to do whatever feels right. The box is always gonna be there—it’s up to you if you want to know what’s inside.”

  “I didn’t think it would be so hard to stay,” Reece had stopped looking at either the box or me. I assumed he was remembering his house, the garden that I knew he missed. Especially the organic, home grown snow peas. Such a strange thing for a man to grow.

  “In Meringa?”

  “Yeah, but it would be even harder to leave.”

  “I know how you feel.” Only, I still hadn’t talked about it. All my friends were going through the same thought processes. Most had decided to stay, to rebuild.

  “Do you think about that night?” Reece got up, turning back into me. Spinning in place until my hands linked around his neck. There was nowhere to hide from his question. He wasn’t a reporter who could be satisfied with a sound bite.

  Reece wanted the truth.

  “Only all the time.” If I was going to admit it to anyone, it would be the man who’d stood beside us. Lead us. Made us believe when the evidence—or flames—were stacked against us. “I think about it when I’m asleep, I think about it when I walk outside and can still smell the smoke, I’m usually thinking about it when I should be looking for a new job.”

  It seemed once I started talking, I couldn’t stop. “I’m thinking about it whenever parents leave me to look after their children. I think about what I’d do if the fires hit us in that minute and I’m the one that has to protect
other people. I get scared that other people, children, their lives would be in my hands and I can’t cope. I start shaking and I, I don’t know. When I go upstairs each afternoon, it’s because I know that there’s going to be that moment when my heart catches and I can’t breathe. It all comes flooding back and I feel like it’s happening all over again.”

  Unlike well-meaning friends from interstate who’d only seen the news, Reece didn’t try to tell me everything would be okay. He didn’t bother to tell me that one day the nightmares would end. He just held me tighter. Into his chest. With his body, he made me want to believe.

  “I’m so scared. I don’t know how you do it, how you did it. We were all relying on you and you were responsible for all of us. I don’t know how you did it and I don’t think we’ll ever be able to thank you.”

  I buried my face in his chest, not wanting him to see me cry, but his wet shirt would probably be a giveaway. Drawing comfort from his hands running the full length of my back, in long and predictable strokes, while his lips brushed the top of my head.

  We’d gone from first date to full on relationship in a heartbeat.

  This man.

  My hero.

  This man.

  My heart.

  Without raising his lips from my hair, his words started softly, “The truth was, I wasn’t thinking. All of the training, all the years out with my father and you’ve gotta remember that this wasn’t our first bushfire season. It all came back. I was acting on instinct, relying on the training to tell me in the moment what I needed.”

  “But all our lives—”

  “I didn’t think about that at the time. I think if I’d counted how many of you were in the pub, I would have crumbled.”

  When his voice cracked, so did my resolve. We could be weak and strong, together.

  “Oh, Reece.”

  “Maybe,” he said so cautiously, as if testing out the words to see if they were true, “Maybe that’s what I’ve been doing since then. I can’t move out of the moment because it’s all about survival and choices. “What if I’d fucked up and what if the pub wasn’t the safest place for you all. What if all I’d done was sentence you to death. My nightmare is that I’m the only survivor and I have to live with knowing I’d killed you all.”

  “You had your team. All of you worked together.”

  “You helped.”

  “I did nothing.”

  “You kept everyone calm. I knew that I could trust you to tell me if anyone was missing.”

  “There wasn’t.”

  “Which meant we could just focus on keeping the pub safe and you all alive.”

  “Which lead us to today.”

  “A pathetic excuse for a first date, Zoe, I’m so sorry. I should have thought this through better. I should have taken you away from this shit storm. A beautiful café on the edge of a river. Watching the sun go down over a bottle of expensive wine.”

  “What’s the purpose of a first date?” We’d been stuck back on the day of the fire for too long. Reece needed to loosen up a little, and I needed to laugh, a lot.

  “I dunno, a second date?”

  “Maybe for you, but for me a first date has three purposes.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Firstly, can the man make me laugh, and you’ve come close, but I’m still to feel my stomach muscles hate you.”

  “Duly noted, and challenge accepted.”

  I gave him a small giggle. Slightly forced, but an offer of things to come.

  “Secondly, I want a kiss that can stop coherent thought. A kiss that will encourage me to throw away the rule book and offer myself to a man, body and soul.”

  “A man—are we talking offering your body to any man? I mean, can I kiss you and then sell you to the highest bidder.”

  At that, Reece got a full chuckle.

  “You’d probably get more for my room than for me.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it. You can see everything you need to know in the room within an hour, day tops. You, my delicious little vixen—” Reece interrupted himself to surprise me with another kiss. Stopping my heart, my breath.

  A kiss that could stop time.

  “—are too complex to fully comprehend in less than a lifetime”

  Still shaking, but drawing strength from the way his arms had never left my hips, I tried to force a witty reply, “Hope you’re a quick study.”

  “Nah, why rush something when you’ve got all night to start.”

  “Reece Sinclair, I like your thinking.”

  “What’s the third reason.”

  “Huh?”

  “You said the purpose of a first date had three reasons.”

  “Oh, yeah.” I’d lost track of coherent thought, ticking the second reason for a first date. “The third and most important purpose of a first date is to get a second date.”

  “And has it? I mean, has this first date gotten me a second date, yet?” My legs were covered in goosebumps as Reece’s fingers drew figure eights up and down my thighs. Oh, yes, this man was going to be great.

  “I dunno.” I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could fake.

  “Woman!” Reece growled before taking the decision out of my hands.

  With another kiss.

  If our first kiss was perfectly spontaneous and full of exploring, and second was almost part of conversation, then our third was—full of all the emotion from the fire.

  Even before I could tilt my head up to find his lips, Reece fisted my hair, pulling me up with an urgency I couldn’t explain—and didn’t want to fight.

  I needed to feel him, needed more than standing in the middle of a wasteland. Giggling, I tested the sturdiness of the collapsible picnic table, pushing aside the box so there was room to sit, open my legs and feel Reece between me.

  Grinding.

  One hand kept my head in place while his other, rested under my skirt, playing with me through the thin, lycra shorts. I didn’t know how he could wriggle his fingers, trapped between my ass and the table, but my hero was proving that he let nothing come between him and what he wanted.

  “Oh, Reece,” I moaned, loving the way his name dripped from my tongue. The tongue that had found his neck. The salt of his sweat mixed with a little ash. Perfectly him.

  Again, my fingers counted his abs, just to make sure none had gone missing since our first kiss. All the while, I wanted him to devour me. Right here and now. Despite being out in public where anyone could drive past and see.

  I didn’t care.

  My need for this man felt primal. Without rules.

  Still, my heart raced with every thrust of his mouth. My legs trapping him into grinding until I knew I could come, but that wouldn’t be fair. Not if I couldn’t give him the same pleasure at the same time.

  Gently, I cupped his face and extracted my lips from his.

  The table continued to wobble as he raised my ass enough to retrieve his hand.

  Our eyes locked together, neither of us willing to speak first.

  Slowly, he played with my hair until, also cupping my cheeks, he brushed my face with his thumbs.

  “That was not a first date kiss.” I needed to say something before the silence got awkward. We’d crossed boundaries and it scared me, but with the same butterflies that I got bungee jumping. Yes, I could die—but what if I lived!

  “Would you stop it with the first date nonsense?” Wet kisses followed the stroke of his thumb. “This is us. Maybe, there’s a different set of rules for first dates after we went through that day.”

  “Can you imagine what the media would make of this—you and I getting together?” I wanted to be the one to tell Danielle Stone. Just so she’d stop—whatever. She could look at Reece however she wanted, as long as he came home to me.

  Home.

  Two kisses and one picnic and I was already mentally unpacking boxes at our new home.

  Luckily, he couldn’t read my mind, yet.

  “I can see the headline now,” he laughed. “Love out of the ashes. But, unless you want to make a public announcement, I don’t think any of our friends are gonna go running to journalists.”

  “But where do we go from here?” I didn’t mean from this block of land.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if we go back into the pub—where we are both living—holding hands, everyone’s gonna know and make a big deal out of it.”

  “You mean if they see us going into the same room? You think they’ll start making jokes about freeing up one of the rooms?”