Читать книгу Men On Fire - Susan Lyons - Страница 14

From: Jade Rousseau [jade_rousseau@shaw.ca]

To: ‘Amarjeet Nagra’; ‘Kimberly Brock’

Subject: My pathetic dating life: Granny’s friend’s nephew George

A high-powered accountant who nickels-and-dimes life to death! I asked why he drove 3 blocks to lunch. He said it saved him 9 minutes’ time, which could be billed at .2 hr, and he had an exact dollar value for that. LOL! (Which I almost did, in his face!) When I said I work for a charity, he said charitable contributions are good as long as they’re effective tax deductions. Ack!!! (Frog detector rule: Don’t date a guy who isn’t generous about supporting good causes.)

Now to the HOT (steamy, sizzling!) news. I had mind-blowing sex with Quinn!!!! It was FABULOUS. And before any I told you so’s, it was JUST SEX. Nothing serious. (Frog detector rule: No dates with risk-takers!)

PS—No, I’m not DATING Q.

PPS—Did I mention the sex was SPECTACULAR!!! <G>

Saturday, I dressed in white cotton pants and a sleeveless top of cinnamon-colored silk, and added simple copper jewelry. I pulled my hair back into a loose knot, applied minimal makeup, and slipped my feet into braided leather sandals.

I had told Quinn I’d pick him up, and I’d instructed him to dress along the lines of khakis and a short-sleeved cotton shirt or golf shirt. By that point in the evening, his eyes had been glazed from information, instructions, and barely contained annoyance.

No question of there being a second round in the bedroom, which my brain said was a good thing. Maybe I shouldn’t have indulged in the first round, but breaking my dry spell had sure felt damned fine. All the same, best to keep things between us businesslike from here on. I only hoped he didn’t screw up the afternoon, particularly if he was still pissed off at me.

Top down on my chili red Mini Cooper, I drove toward West 6th and Oak, where Quinn had said he’d meet me. There he was, leaning against a telephone pole, in tan khakis and a black golf shirt. No real-life golfer, not even Tiger Woods or that guy Adam Scott from Australia, had ever made a golf shirt look so sexy.

And I’d had sex with this man. Superlative sex. Despite my anxiety, my body hummed with arousal. As I pulled over to the curb, I tried to remember this was business.

Quinn slid into the passenger seat flashing that sexy smile with the dimple. “A pretty lady in a cute convertible.” He pressed a kiss to my cheek. A slow one.

Arousal turned to pure lust. Hurriedly, I pulled away from the curb. “You’re in a better mood than when you left the other night.”

He shrugged. “Strange evening. Great sex, then that weird conversation about compatibility, then you snowed me under with details.”

“And now?”

“When I volunteered for the auction, I took my chances. The downside was having my ego kicked in the balls and having to study all the info you gave me. But the upside’s just fine.” His hand settled on my thigh, burning through my pants.

“What upside?” I asked warily.

“Compatibility where it counts.”

“In bed.” The words slipped out. Damn, this wasn’t supposed to happen again. It was easier when he’d been grumpy.

His hand moved higher, inches from my crotch. “When I was inside you, you promised me a next time.”

Had I? “Wasn’t that you who said something about next time?”

“We both know it’s going to happen.”

“It shouldn’t. We need to focus on the role-play.”

“Okay.” He slipped on dark glasses. “I’m role-playing a patient fiancé who got dragged along to his girl’s work thing, and can’t wait to get her home and in bed.”

Despite myself, I laughed. But I was torn. Why resist another plunge into box number three? Besides, his improved mood would make things easier this afternoon, so I’d best not shatter it. “Let’s see how we feel later. In the meantime, please, please be on your best behavior. Now, let’s do a quick brushup on this event.”

“It’s a picnic, but not a shorts and baseball caps one.”

“Right. It’s a fund-raiser—”

“Put on by the Families First Foundation—Triple-F—for donors and prospective donors. Low-key, because funds should go to programs rather than glitzy fund-raisers.”

“Very good.” Despite his frustration, he had been listening.

“And you said something about showcasing some funded programs?”

“Yes, for example, there’s one for abused women and their kids. Shelter, counseling, job skills for the women and the older kids, clothing and basic necessities, help finding accommodation, and a Big Sibs system for kids who’ve basically lost their fathers.”

“As in, big brother or sister?” At my nod, he said, “Cool.”

“Yeah. Anyhow, the women have prepared the food and it’ll be served by the older kids, assisted by Big Sibs volunteers.” I filled him in on more details as we drove toward ritzy Shaugh-nessy, where one of the board members had a giant house with a huge yard.

When we arrived, it didn’t help my anxiety that my boss’s wife, who’d been at the bachelor auction, was first to greet us. “Hello, Jade. This is your fiancé?”

“Yes, Melinda, this is Quinn O’Malley. Quinn, this is Melinda Daniels. She’s—”

“Married to your boss, Fred.” He held out a hand and gave an easy smile. “It’s a pleasure.”

She took his hand with a baffled smile. “You were at the auction. The firefighter who said you were a bachelor because you hadn’t found the right girl.”

Quinn flashed his dimple. “No, I said a man has to wait for the right woman to come along. Never said mine hadn’t.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, glad I’d prepared him.

“But…” She shook her head. “I’m confused.”

I took over. “Quinn volunteered for the auction because he supports the cause. And then he and I got serious. They’d printed the catalogs and he didn’t want to leave them in the lurch. I got a friend to bid on him so the auction would still raise the money, but no other bidder would be disappointed at getting a man who wasn’t really a bachelor.”

“Well, good for both of you for supporting such a worthwhile cause. And, Jade, I’m delighted to meet your fiancé. You have excellent taste in men.”

Quinn put his arm around me. “And I have great taste in women.” For a moment our gazes held and I felt a twinge of longing. Almost as if I wished this was real. Him and me.

No, surely it was just a longing to be engaged for real. To Prince Charming, not the daredevil firefighter.

Melinda beamed. “You’re a beautiful couple. Let’s find Fred. He’ll want to meet Quinn.”

For the next hour, Quinn and I wandered around the manicured yard hand in hand, chatting with people. To my surprise, he fell easily into character. He got along equally well with board members, wealthy donors, and the nervous kids who were serving delicious snacks.

As my faux fiancé, he was considerate, affectionate, demonstrative, but not inappropriately so. All the same, the constant touches, smiles, and kisses on the cheek took their toll on me. If he’d been fondling my breasts, I couldn’t have got much more turned on.

When we were alone for a moment, I murmured, “You’re doing a wonderful job.”

He shrugged. “I have some experience.”

“From firefighter open houses and fund-raisers?”

“Yeah.” He gave a wry smile. “Plus the fact that my dad was an oncologist, my mom a gynecologist, and my grandfather one of the leading cardiothoracic surgeons in the city. I grew up with people like this.”

“Wow. Sorry for making assumptions.” I’d been so busy briefing him about me and Triple-F, I hadn’t asked much about him. Some faux fiancée I was.

We accepted mini-quiches from a shy serving girl, talked to another board member, then went to the bar for fresh drinks. I was playing it safe with Aranciata, a nonalcoholic orange drink, needing no Raining Mens–type loss of judgment. Quinn was drinking Corona with lime, but had only gone through one in an hour. As we waited behind an older woman who was having a long chat with the bartender, Quinn stood slightly behind me, rested his hand on my hip, and squeezed gently. “Can’t wait to get my fiancée alone.”

I leaned back against him, feeling the press of his firm chest against my back, resting my head against his shoulder. “I’m feeling tempted.”

He gave a sexy chuckle, his breath brushing my hair. “I’m being good. I deserve a reward.”

Male throat-clearing from behind us made us both start.

Bert Masterson, a board member, had an amused expression on his face. “Sorry to interrupt, but, Jade, can I steal you away to talk to a prospective donor? He has some questions I think you’re best equipped to answer.”

“Of course. Quinn, you’ll—”

“Find something to do. Go ahead.”

Could he keep up the act when he was on his own? It wasn’t his personality I was worried about, but the minimal time I’d had to brief him. Candace, my main competition, was bearing down on him, and I had no choice but to follow Bert.

As I spoke to the donor, I kept an eye on Quinn. He and Candace got drinks—he switched from beer to something dark brown served in a highball glass—and were chatting like old friends. One of the serving boys, a lanky redhead who looked about twelve, went over, carefully balancing a platter of snacks, and got drawn into the conversation. Then Candace left Quinn alone with the boy.

When I’d finished with the donor, I joined them. They were discussing baseball. “Okay,” Quinn said, “I’ll check into those tickets.” He grinned at me. “Jade, meet Timothy. D’you have a pen and paper in your bag?”

“Hi, Timothy.” I rooted around in my purse, finding a pen and the small notebook I always carried. “What’s up?” I handed them to Quinn and he gave me his glass to hold.

“Quinn’s going to get me and my mom box seats for a Vancouver Canadians game at Nat Bailey Stadium!” The boy’s blue eyes sparkled.

“You are?” I glanced at Quinn.

He winked. “I know a guy who knows a guy.”

“Sweet!” Timothy said, then told Quinn his phone number. Quinn noted it, then wrote his own name and phone number on another sheet and tucked it in the boy’s shirt pocket.

Timothy grinned. “Thanks. I’d better get back to work.” He took off across the lawn.

Thirsty, I sipped from Quinn’s glass before handing it back. The drink tasted like straight Coca-Cola. “What’s up with Timothy?”

“He and his mom are having a rough time, and Big Sibs hasn’t paired him up with anyone yet. He likes baseball…” He paused. “Maybe I could use a little brother.” A shadow crossed his face, and I remembered him saying, during our briefing, that his only close relative was his grandfather. “How do I get involved in the Big Sibs program?”

I stared at him. “You want to be Timothy’s big brother?”

He shrugged, and for the first time since I’d met him he looked awkward. “He’s a good kid.”

“I’m sure. But…” Did Quinn have any idea what was involved?

His eyebrows went up. “You think I don’t mean it.”

“You just met him. It’s a long-term commitment.”

“Yeah.”

“How could you leap into a decision like that so quickly?”

“Told you I’m impulsive.” He glanced down, shuffled his feet. “He reminds me of my brother.”

“I thought you didn’t have any siblings.”

“Not now.”

“What?” He had me totally confused.

His mouth tightened. “I had a brother. Patrick. Three years younger. I got the black Irish looks; he got the red hair and freckles. Like Timothy.”

Softly, I asked, “What happened to Patrick?”

“Died. Along with Mom and Dad when I was fifteen.”

“Oh my God.” I gripped his arm, as much for my own comfort as his. “What happened?” And then I knew. “A fire.”

He nodded, throat working, then took a long swallow of Coke. “Heritage house. Electrical problem.”

“How did you…?”

“Survive? Somehow I walked through the smoke, the flames, and made it out safely. It seemed natural, automatic. I never thought…just assumed my parents and Patrick had done the same. When I got outside, I saw the engine, the ladder truck, firefighters rushing around with hoses and axes. It was exciting.” He closed his eyes. Swallowed. “I was actually excited. Until I started looking around for my family.”

And they weren’t there. My heart ached for him. “You became a firefighter.”

“I didn’t rescue them.” His dark gaze was fierce. “Fire’s not going to claim any more lives if I have anything to do with it.”

Each time he went into a fire, did he think about his parents and brother? I couldn’t ask. “Quinn, about Timothy…If he reminds you of Patrick, wouldn’t it be hard to be with him?”

“Maybe.” He sighed and gazed at me, eyes troubled. “But it feels right. Like maybe he and I can…”

What? Help each other? “You are serious.” I had a habit of underestimating this man.

One corner of his mouth lifted. “Yeah.”

A rush of emotion dampened my eyes and I blinked quickly. “On Monday, I’ll put you in touch with the Big Sibs people. There’ll be paperwork to do.”

“Hate that stuff. You ever think how much would get done if it wasn’t for paperwork?”

I stared him in the eye. “You ever think how many kids would be abused if that paperwork wasn’t done properly?”

He winced. “Sorry. Yeah, there’s a point to it in this case. Besides, I’ve probably gone through most of it anyhow, to be a firefighter.”

A man who could admit he was wrong. I was liking my faux fiancé more and more. “I’m sorry for misjudging you. I’m not used to people being so impulsive.”

His face lightened and he stepped closer, into my personal space, so I could feel that energy he gave off. “I have good impulses. As a matter of fact, right now I’m having an impulse to take you inside and find a room with a door that locks and—” He reached for my waist.

I stepped backward. “Quinn!” There were kids around, not to mention colleagues. I wasn’t going to jeopardize my job for the sake of sex. Even spectacular sex with a man who was handsome, warmhearted, complex, and damned near irresistible.

“Relax, I’m teasing. I’m just saying, I can’t wait until we’re alone.”

“Nor can I.” I no longer had any second thoughts about enjoying another round in bed. The more I saw Quinn, the more I wanted him. He’d behaved perfectly today, saving his teasing for when we were alone. He had a generosity of spirit and an ability to get along with almost anyone. Even the dark side—the death of his brother and parents and his own fierce commitment to fighting fire—added to his appeal.

He made his dimple flash. “How much longer?”

“Can you be good for another hour?”

“Yeah, but I’m going to be even better when that hour is up.”