Читать книгу Fanning the Flames - Victoria Dahl - Страница 7

Chapter Two

LAUREN SHOULD’VE WORN a regular work outfit and changed at the end of her shift. Sophie had been making flirtatious comments all day, and now Lauren felt supremely self-conscious as she hid behind the closed office door and slipped off her flats to replace them with heels. But when she’d gotten out the black dress this morning, she hadn’t been able to force herself into something more frumpy.

She’d bought the dress during a rare trip to Salt Lake City, telling herself that everyone needed a simple little black dress. But that had been a year ago and she hadn’t gotten the chance to wear it until today.

She smoothed her hand over the skirt. It was tight enough to take off a few pounds, the material was thick enough to hide some flaws, and she loved the way it made her feel perfectly curvy.

Once the black heels were on, Lauren untied the royal-blue silk scarf she’d worn around her neck to hide her cleavage. Then she brushed her hair, powdered her nose and slid on deep pink lipstick. The sight of that new berry shade reminded her instantly of the cougars Sophie had spoken of. Lauren looked like a woman on the prowl.

Maybe that was just what she needed. One night in bed with a hot young stud who’d be thrilled to let her take the edge off these new needs. She’d use him, he’d use her and they’d both leave spent and happy.

A sharp shock of lust pulsed through her at the thought of a man above her, his shoulders slick with exertion, her nails digging into his skin as he filled her over and over.

God. She needed that. It had been more than a year, and longer than that since anyone had really made it worth her while.

Someone knocked on the door. “Ready?” Sophie called.

Lauren stood, grabbed her purse, and opened the door. “I’m ready,” she said, and meant it.

Sophie’s eyes widened. “You look perfect.”

No, not perfect. She wasn’t as thin and young as Sophie. And there was no competing with that pretty red hair and tiny waist. Sophie adjusted her scarlet lipstick and pulled the pin from her hair twist. “Let’s go.”

Lauren tried not to grin, but she couldn’t help the extra swing in her step as she followed Sophie to the back door. By the time they walked outside, she was laughing for no other reason than it seemed funny to wear such high heels when the sun was still up.

She startled a little when she realized the boys from the fire station were playing basketball. But she watched idly as she nudged the door closed behind her. She’d noticed that a lot of them shaved their chests out of some misplaced vanity, wanting to show off their twenty-something muscles. Idiots. Jake’s hairy chest was much hotter.

That guilty thought killed her smile entirely when she saw that Jake was leaning against the wall of the station, watching his men play. Or she assumed he had been watching them. Now his eyes were locked right on her.

“Hi,” she said, the syllable half-strangled by her shock.

“Lauren.” His gaze slipped to Sophie and then back. “You ladies hitting the town?”

She nodded, but her throat somehow only produced a nervous laugh. Her hand rose of its own accord to cover the unusual amount of cleavage she was showing, but instead of shielding it, she only drew Jake’s attention. His very brief attention. After a quick look, he blinked and his eyes locked with hers again.

“The Crooked R,” Sophie volunteered. “In case you’re out later.”

Lauren felt her eyes go wide. Why the hell had Sophie told him that?

But Jake seemed unfazed. And uninterested. “I’m sure I’ll be tucked into bed by then. It’s been a long week.”

“That grass fire,” Lauren blurted.

“Yeah, we put in some extra hours on that.”

“Right,” Lauren said. “Good.”

His eyebrow rose and Lauren frowned.

“I mean, I’m glad you were there. As a firefighter. Not that I want you in danger. Just...thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His gaze slipped away, but not before dipping lower along her body again. Lauren glanced down and realized her modest hand had now morphed into the equivalent of a flashing neon sign. Her fingertips rested temptingly against the rise of her own breast, the perfect example of a woman trying to display her wares.

Dropping her hand, she spun toward Sophie and called, “Have a nice evening!” as she rushed away.

There was no mistaking Sophie’s giggle of amusement behind her. “Lauren, my car is the other way.”

“Dammit,” she muttered, turning on her heel to head to the other side of the parking lot. She wasn’t going to look back—she was never going to look at Jake again—so she could only hope that Sophie was following.

Lauren lunged for the car door as soon as it beeped. But when Sophie got into the driver’s seat, her laughter made clear that they weren’t off the subject yet. “That was totally smooth.”

“Shut up. My breasts are halfway out.”

“Yet somehow that didn’t bother you until it was Jake looking at them.”

Oh, God. Sophie was right. So horribly right. Lauren’s skin was hot with awareness, not because she was showing cleavage, but because she’d shown it to Jake. The most pitiful part was that men would look at any cleavage, at any time, given any opportunity. So he’d only done what any man would do, and yet she was sadly aroused.

“I think he’s got a crush on you,” Sophie said as they pulled out of the parking lot. The words sent a jolt through Lauren’s nerves and her pulse sped, but laughter jumped from her throat.

“Jake Davis? With a crush? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. He’s so...”

“Yes, he has that strong, silent thing going, but he could barely tear his eyes away to acknowledge me.”

Lauren glanced at Sophie’s button-down blouse. It was sexy in an understated way, like everything Sophie wore. White and fitted and modest. She only showed the tiniest hint of cleavage. “He’s a man, Sophie. Yours are covered. Mine aren’t.”

“Is it really so hard for you to believe a hot guy wants you?”

Lauren shook her head, not wanting to answer. It was more complicated than that with Jake. Yes, she’d been divorced for a long time, and both she and Steve had very much moved on. But Jake had known Steve longer than Lauren had. They’d gone to junior high together and been teammates on the high school wrestling team. Jake had come to Lauren’s wedding. And Lauren had gone to his. But maybe it wasn’t awkward loyalty to Steve making her hesitate. Maybe it was the memory of sweet Ruth.

Ruth had been the kind of wife and mother who’d always made Lauren feel inferior. She’d been sweet and patient and always smiling. She’d probably never cursed in her life. Or gotten drunk. Or considered going to a bar and picking up a younger man for a meaningless lay.

Yeah. Lauren could never live up to a woman like Ruth. And she couldn’t live up to the cute young things Jake had likely dated in the past year or two.

That was the most pitiful thing of all. She’d always thought she’d had self-confidence, but at forty-three, she no longer relished the idea of getting naked in front of a new man.

Frustration tightened her next breath into a sigh. She was all about positive body image. She thought women of all sizes should be proud of their bodies and their sexuality and the years they’d put in on earth. But somehow it was just too personal when it came to her own naked body. She’d perfected the art of self-induced orgasm long ago, so why rock the boat?

Then again, boat-rocking could be fun. Lauren made herself relax as Sophie drove toward the restaurant they’d chosen for dinner.

“How’s your family?” Lauren asked, hoping to keep the subject off her sex life for a while. “Has your brother gotten a job yet?”

Sophie groaned. “My brother will never get a job. He’s a twenty-six-year-old man-child who helps around the ranch as little as possible and still lets me do his laundry.”

“Then I’m glad you moved into town. You shouldn’t be the family maid.”

“It’s only temporary,” Sophie said immediately. “My dad still needs my help. When my great-uncle realizes he’s not coming home from assisted living, he’ll sell his house and I’ll move back to the ranch.”

“Sophie...” Lauren started, but Sophie’s eyes flashed a warning. They’d had this discussion many times. “Fine,” Lauren said. “But some day I’m going to write into Dear Veronica about you. Maybe you’ll listen to her advice.” The new advice column was their favorite part of the local paper, and everyone else’s, judging by the way that section got crumpled and creased in the library’s reading area.

“I don’t need advice,” Sophie countered. “You do.”

“Oh, really?”

Sophie grinned. “My family might be crazy, but my sex life is just fine, thanks.”

“How am I supposed to buy that when you never discuss it?”

“You’ll just have to believe me,” Sophie said, before chirping “We’re here,” as she pulled into a parking space and cut the engine. “Now, let’s go find so much fun that you’ll be writing into Dear Veronica for advice about how to juggle your many admirers.”

That was so ridiculous that Lauren let out a belly laugh as she followed Sophie into the restaurant. The only thing she’d likely be juggling was her collection of vibrators, but Sophie was sweet to be so hopeful.

* * *

“SO YOU’LL BE tucked into bed?” someone said from behind him.

Jake glanced over his shoulder and spotted his future son-in-law watching with a crooked grin. “What?”

“You told them you’d be tucked into bed tonight. Instead of, for example, going to meet two beautiful librarians at the bar they purposefully told you about.”

Jake grunted and crossed his arms, turning back to watch the pickup game.

“Seriously, Pops, you should go to the Crooked R. No doubt.”