Читать книгу What a Girl Wants - Jennifer Snow, Jennifer Snow - Страница 10

CHAPTER THREE

“WOW, DID YOU see that takedown defense? That guy is insane.” Mark Adams used the sleeve of his shirt to twist the cap off a beer.

Inside the fire hall, the four men on duty and their friends had dragged every available chair to crowd around the thirty-six-inch television to watch the Saturday-night ultimate-fighter fight. Eight men and Bailey. Cold leftover pizza and wings from Luke’s party the night before sat on the table, and once again, Bailey was annoyed that she’d missed the celebration. At least here with the guys she wouldn’t have been forced to admit her feelings about Ethan. Not admitting to them had made them easier to ignore.

“There’s no way that takedown defense should have worked.” Sitting on the couch, Ethan extended his long legs out in front of him and raised his arms above his head.

Bailey tore her eyes away as his shirt rose, exposing his abs. She could blame it on the women the night before, but in recent months, she’d been finding it increasingly hard to conceal her long-repressed feelings for him. Without Emily around as a reminder that Ethan was unavailable, every time she looked at him, all she saw were the gold flecks in his chocolate eyes or the deep dimple in his chin or the six-pack under his shirt. Those things hadn’t escaped her notice before, but now it was near impossible to push the feelings of attraction away whenever she looked at him. And after watching him put out that car fire the day before...

She forced her gaze back to the television. “It totally works,” she argued, watching the slow-motion replay at the end of the fourth five-minute round of the champion match for the light heavyweight title.

“Prove it,” Ethan said, jumping up and turning to her in challenge.

“I think Sanchez just did,” Bailey scoffed, leaning around him to see the television screen. She took a sip of her diet soda, fighting to calm her raging pulse. Any other time, dropping him on his butt in front of the guys would be fun, but now the idea of physical contact made her heart race.

“I think he just got lucky.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah, come on, bring it on.” He danced sideways from one foot to the other.

The other men encouraged her.

“Come on, Bailey. Show him how it’s done,” Jim said, taking his wallet from his back pocket. He pulled out several bills and turned to the other men. “You guys want to place bets? My money’s on Bailey.”

Bailey stood as the men placed their twenties in a pile on the coffee table. Eyeing the stack as it grew, she reached into the pocket of her jean shorts. “My money’s on me, too,” she said, tossing two ten-dollar bills onto the pile, then she rolled the sleeves of her favorite UFC shirt.

“You really think I can’t take you down?” Ethan’s eyes shone with amusement.

“You do remember that both of my brothers train mixed martial arts, right? Aren’t you afraid I may have picked up a skill or two?”

“You may have me on skill, but I am a little bigger,” Ethan said, moving the coffee table to the side to make room for his attack. “Ready?”

“Let’s go.” Bailey got into defensive position as he approached.

Grabbing both of her arms, Ethan moved in closer. Bending quickly, he grabbed for her left leg.

Ah, a single-leg takedown. How many times had Brandon taught her to defend that one?

As his hand wrapped around the back of her knee, Bailey rotated her hips to the left, quickly switching position until she was now behind Ethan in a mount position. Freeing her leg, she straightened, forcing him off-balance, taking control.

The others whooped and hollered.

Removing her hand from his shoulder, Ethan turned to face her, towering over her, head down, nodding slowly. “Not bad,” he said, but in one swift motion he swooped her off her feet, slowly dropping her toward the floor.

Caught off guard, Bailey clutched at his shirt and stopped just inches from the concrete floor. Ethan hovered above her, a firm grip on her arms, holding her in place. Staring up into his eyes, she saw the amused look on his handsome face and felt her pulse quicken and her cheeks flame. Pushing him away, she scrambled to her feet and turned to the others. “That doesn’t count—you all saw I had him first.” She pointed to Jim.

“Hey, my money was on you, I’m not arguing,” Jim said with a laugh, handing over her portion of the winnings as the last round of the fight began.

Reclaiming her place on the sofa next to Ethan, she struggled to calm the pounding in her chest. It was just Ethan. So what if he was hot, fun, exciting...still brooding over his ex?

The sound of the guys cheering interrupted her thoughts. The fight had ended and the current champion had his arms raised in the air. His opponent was out cold on the mat inside the octagon. Crap, she’d missed the knockout.

“Did you see that?” Ethan exclaimed, turning to face her.

She forced enthusiasm into the lie. “Yeah, amazing.” So were his dark eyes, full mouth, solid chest.... She took a breath and stood, needing to put some distance between them. Opening the bar fridge, she took out a bottle of water and gulped its contents, aware of those mesmerizing eyes on her. She was in trouble; there was no more denying it. She was in love with Ethan, and without Emily standing in the way, there was nothing stopping her from going after what she’d always wanted.

* * *

ETHAN STOOD AND stretched. “Okay, guys, I think that’s it for me. Thank you for stealing my money. Good night.” He checked his watch. A little past one o’clock. Everyone else had taken off after the fights, but he’d stayed to play cards with his coworkers on duty that evening. He was spending a lot of his free time at the fire hall these days, which only reminded him how much time he’d devoted to his relationship with Emily. His shifts at the fire hall and coaching his nephew’s soccer and hockey teams just weren’t enough to keep him occupied. The days weren’t the challenge; it was the lonely nights.

He grabbed his wallet and keys from the table and waved as he left the hall. Taking the steps two at a time, he jogged upstairs to his loft-style bachelor suite. It had been a long-standing tradition in Brookhollow for the captain of the fire team to live in the apartment if he or she was single. While it essentially meant he was always on call, he loved his nine hundred square feet and the fact he was only seconds away if he was needed in an emergency.

Inside, he kicked off his shoes and headed straight for his upstairs bedroom. He was exhausted after the late night and early morning. He just hoped that his inability to keep his eyes open would mean a good night’s sleep for a change. In the six months since Emily had left, sleep had constantly eluded him. He wished that for just one night, the last thought he had wouldn’t be of her. Removing his shirt, he tossed it into the corner laundry basket as his cell phone rang on the bedside table.

Oh, come on, it was almost one-thirty in the morning. She couldn’t possibly expect him to answer. He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his forehead. What was he supposed to do? He reached for the phone just as the emergency alarm sounded downstairs. Dropping the ringing phone onto his bed, Ethan bounded back down the stairs and out the front door of the apartment without even stopping for his shoes.

Inside the fire hall, the men had rushed to the duty racks. Derek’s face paled as he listened to the call from dispatch. “Yeah, okay. Yeah, two units are on it.” He motioned for the other men to suit up.

Ethan grabbed the report as it came over the machine. The familiar address in bold, block letters on top of the emergency reporting page caught his attention. Doug’s Motors. Grabbing the report, he ran toward the duty racks and grabbed his boots.

Derek approached and grabbed the report. “What are you doing? You’re off duty.”

“It’s the shop, man. I’m coming.” Ethan slid his jacket over his bare shoulders and grabbed his gear.

Derek followed behind him toward the unit. “I think you’re a little too close to this one....”

Jim jumped into the passenger seat of the first response vehicle. “He’s right, Ethan, you’re out. Your emotions are running too high right now.”

Ethan ignored him and jumped into the driver’s seat of the truck. “Any fire in Brookhollow would be close for any of us. Now let’s go.”

“Ethan, I’m not speaking as your brother, but as a member of this squad. I think you should sit this one out.”

“As captain, I respect your opinion, Jim, but on duty or not, I’m leading this one.”

Jim looked about to argue, but Derek said, “We’re wasting time, guys.”

“Fine, but for the safety of everyone involved, you’re on pump only,” Jim insisted.

“No, you’re faster on pump. I’m going in.”

“Only if you can get a grip.”

Ethan just nodded as he flicked on the emergency lights and sirens and tore through the bay door into the street. His thoughts ran wild—the garage, Bailey’s shop. His hands shook on the wheel and he tightened his grip in an effort to steady them under Jim’s watchful gaze. He forced a calming breath. Jim and Derek were right. He was a little too close to this one and he needed to keep a clear head. Not only did Bailey depend on him keeping his focus and his safety training in mind, but his team, as well. One of the many benefits of small-town life was that everything was close, and at this hour of night the streets were deserted, but as the speedometer reached forty, Jim shot him a look.

“I said, get a grip.” His brother’s voice was stern.

Ethan slowed just a fraction as the big truck made a right off Main Street onto Vermont Avenue and the shop came into sight. Thirty-six seconds later—it felt more like thirty-six minutes—they pulled into the lot, followed by the wailing sirens of the ladder truck behind them. Thick, dark gray smoke billowed from the side bay doors and he could see flames through the shop’s big front window.

“Okay, let’s do a 360.” He motioned to Jim as they jumped down from the first truck. The perimeter check was important to locate the fire and confirm that no one needed immediate rescue, as well as identify any possible hazards to their own safety. A propane tank or any flammable waste materials near the building could cause serious problems. He wasn’t taking any chances with his team.

Jim nodded his understanding as he put on his self-contained breathing apparatus and followed Derek around the side of the building.

“Back door is locked, preventing access,” Jim called over the radio to Derek and Mark as Ethan secured the nozzle of the hose on the back of the truck.

Bailey always kept the back door dead bolted at night. Even in a town as safe as Brookhollow, she didn’t take chances with her clients’ vehicles.

“Is there an internal sprinkler system?” Derek asked.

“No.” Why hadn’t he insisted that Doug install the proper security measures years before? Without a doubt the damage this fire would cause could have been eliminated or at least reduced had a system been installed to respond to the first signs of smoke or flames. There was nothing he could do about it now. “Check for open windows and doors,” Ethan said.

“Small open window on the left side of the building,” Mark confirmed.

Thank God. An open window eliminated several possible dangers in a situation like this one. An airtight space had the potential for a backdraft or flashover when a firefighter had to force entry. The last thing they needed was an unexpected explosion increasing the danger level.

“Parameter check complete,” Jim announced. “Several discarded car engines and an old battery have been transferred off the premises.”

Ethan tried the front door.

“Front door is locked. I’m breaking in.” He grabbed an ax and shattered the thin pane of glass in seconds.

Derek and Jim joined him with the hose line, and all three dropped to their knees to crawl under the heavy blanket of thick, dark smoke that made it impossible to see past several feet. The emergency lighting through the back of the shop and the illuminated exit signs were their only source of light.

Ethan stood as he reached the swinging door to the back bays and peered through the small window. The Volkswagen Jetta in the middle bay was completely engulfed in a violent orange blaze and the flames extended to the surrounding walls. He scanned the area and his pulse quickened at the sight of spray-paint cans lining the shelves just inches above the reach of the flames. That wasn’t good. In another minute those cans would start to explode. Pushing the door open, he stood back and motioned the other guys through, pointing to the burning car.

Jim and Derek moved closer and opened the nozzle on the flames.

When the fire was mostly contained, he said, “Bulk of the fire is knocked down. Let’s create a cross draft of air flow. I don’t want any airtight areas and we need to get this thick smoke out of here to secure the remaining area.”

“All clear,” Derek reported.

“Windows are all broken out,” Mark said.

“Heavy smoke only, no more flames.” Ethan gave the final all clear and a collective sigh of relief could be heard over the radios. Jim shut off the water access and disengaged the hose.

Great, now for the hard part, Ethan thought as he scanned the charred walls and ceiling above the bays. The sound of Bailey’s motorcycle approaching made him sigh. He’d hoped to do this without her watching.

* * *

FRANTICALLY, BAILEY CUT the engine on the bike and pulled off her helmet.

“What happened?” she asked, approaching Ethan, who was exiting through the broken glass in the front door.

The sound of crunching glass under his boots made her cringe, and she stared blankly at the burned shop with its broken windows and melted bay doors.

“I was just here a couple of hours ago.” She’d stopped by the shop on her way home from the fire hall and noticed that Nick had left the back door wide open. Nick... She’d bet almost anything that he had something to do with this. Why had she agreed to let him work in the shop for the summer? Anger mixed with her shock and confusion.

Ethan met her gaze, but hesitated.

“What are you not telling me?”

“The fire was started by a short circuit of that Volkswagen Jetta’s battery cable.”

The disabled car on the highway. Her knees weakened and she placed a hand to her stomach as a wave of nausea made her dizzy. She’d brought the car in...disregarding Ethan’s advice not to. This wasn’t Nick’s fault; it was hers.

“You okay? Here, sit.” Taking her arm, Ethan guided her to the back of the fire truck and gently forced her to sit. “Take a deep breath.” His voice sounded far away.

“We’re about to start the overhaul.” Jim’s voice came over Ethan’s shoulder radio and Bailey saw him flinch before giving the go-ahead.

She forced herself to sit straighter. “Overhaul? What does that mean?” Her mouth was dry, but her skin was damp with sweat as she fought another wave of nausea.

Ethan cleared his throat, and despite the August heat, he retrieved a blanket and draped it over her shoulders. “He means the teardown—we need to make sure there isn’t any hidden fire in the walls or ceiling.”

The loud crashing noises behind her made her jump, and discarding the blanket, she stood and moved closer to the garage. Ethan’s hand on her arm prevented her from going too close.

“No farther,” he said.

The front wall of the shop collapsed in front of her and her hand flew to her mouth. “They are destroying the place.” She turned to Ethan. “Make them stop.” The damage from the fire was more than enough mess to clean up.... If they kept tearing down the main structures, the entire garage would need to be rebuilt from the ground up.

“I can’t, Bailey. This is protocol. It’s a safety—”

“You know what? I’m sick to death of your safety measures. This is my shop, Ethan, it’s my life, my livelihood—they can’t just tear it down.” Enraged, she blinked away the tears that stung her eyes.

“There could be more fire somewhere in there. We can’t take the chance. I’m sorry.” His voice was calm but she heard a note of anguish.

Desperate to argue but knowing it was no use, she watched the back ceiling give way, falling to the floor of the shop in a heap of rubble. Her shoulders slumped as she lowered herself down to the gravel parking lot, tucking her knees under her. “So that’s it. They’re just going to continue pulling down the entire building?” she said, more to herself than to him.

Ethan knelt beside her, wrapping an arm around her bare shoulders. “We won’t leave until we’re certain that we’ve put water on anything glowing.”