Up in Flames: Steamy Firefighter/Single Mom Romance Page 6

  Ada was surprised she and Jake hadn’t done the deed, even though she’d explained George was in the house. Her reaction led Hope to believe he wasn’t the type to hold back from sex for any reason. Especially not when he had a half-naked woman lying next to him. Which had her questioning his desire for her…again.

  “Well, I hope you achieve this hookup sooner rather than later. You’re starting to obsess over the guy. I’m worried you might end up getting hurt.”

  Ada was a good friend, and while Hope could tell Ada genuinely liked Jake as a person, she insisted he wasn’t a good bet for the long term. According to her, he’d never—not once in the time she’d known him—spent more than a month with the same woman. Hope appreciated her warnings and reassured her friend that her only goal when it came to Jake was one night in paradise—er, his bed. After that, she promised to return to the land of responsible adults, to resist all future bad boys, and to set her mind to the task of finding George a good dad.

  She and Ada headed for the field, and Hope did a double take when she realized Jake was kneeling down in the midst of all the kids.

  “What’s he doing here?” she murmured.

  “Didn’t he tell you? Jake is the coach,” Ada answered.

  And just like that, tee-ball went from the last thing on earth Hope wanted to do to something she would live for each and every day. She suddenly found her smile.

  Ada groaned. “Shit. It’s already too late. You’re a goner.”

  She wasn’t. Or…at least she hoped she wasn’t.

  All she wanted was sex with Jake, just to get her pesky hormones under control. Then she could commence seriously dating someone who would be a good father to George.

  She and Jake hadn’t managed to seal the deal yet because life kept getting in the way. For two days after what she was referring to as one of the best nights of her adult life, Jake was battling a nearby brush fire. On Friday, George came down with a nasty stomach virus that kept both of them home from school. Then, sadly, it had been Jake’s weekend to be on call at the fire station, so here they were, a week away from that orgasm and seeing each other for the first time.

  She was nervous, excited and—dammit—horny.

  “Hey, Hope,” Jake said when she and Ada walked over to him.

  “Coach, huh?” she asked with a grin.

  He winked at her. “Wanted to surprise you.”

  “It worked.”

  She could feel herself blushing, something she was certain was driving Ada crazy and proving her point that Hope was in over her head. Mercifully, Jake didn’t have time to notice as another kid approached.

  “There’s my boy.” Jake reached down to playfully tug the boy’s cap over his eyes.

  “Stop it,” the boy said, swatting Jake’s hand away and laughing.

  Hope recognized Scott Garrett. He was a first grader at Earhart Elementary.

  Garrett.

  Jake’s last name was Garrett, and she suddenly put something together she hadn’t before.

  “Steady, girl,” Ada said, when she noticed Hope’s face. “You got it all wrong.”

  Hope glanced at her. “What?”

  “Scott isn’t Jake’s son. He’s his little brother.”

  “Oh. That’s a huge age difference.”

  “You’re not kidding. Get Jake to tell you about his family some time. It’s a hot mess and probably the main reason the dude has serious commitment issues. Come on. Let’s grab a bleacher. It looks like they’re getting ready to start.”

  She and Ada sat with a few other parents, everyone chatting sociably and laughing at the shit show on the field. The kids were running in a million different directions, chasing after the missed pitches, and the actual tee took way more hits than the ball. Hope watched as Jake patiently put it back on time after time, demonstrating how the kids should hold the bat and swing.

  It took George three times before he connected with the ball, sending it just past the pitcher’s mound. Hope cheered loudly as Ada rolled her eyes. “You’re going to be one of those moms, aren’t you? The one who believes her kid is destined for the Major Leagues.”

  Hope shrugged, grinning at her joke. “All I’m saying is Georgie hit it in three tries. Clara took at least a dozen swings before hitting a foul ball.”

  “Bitch,” Ada muttered with a laugh.

  Hope was surprised when Jake called the players together to offer some last-minute instruction before reminding them that their next practice was Thursday. The hour she had expected to be a long, hard slog had flown by.

  She walked over to George, who was talking excitedly to Scott. When he saw her, he grabbed her hand. “Mommy, Jake and Scott are going to the arcade and having pizza for dinner. Can we go too?”

  “George…” She was about to explain to her son that it wasn’t polite to invite yourself to someone else’s plans when they were interrupted.

  “I asked George if the two of you could come along,” Jake said as he walked up. Then he pointed to Scott. “Have you met this rascal at school yet?”

  “I think we’ve passed each other in the hall a few times. Hello, Scott.”

  “Hi, Miss Connor. Can you all come with us? I want to show George the Skee-Ball machine.”

  “Well.” She glanced at Jake. “If you’re sure we’re not imposing.”

  Jake stepped closer, too close, and she looked around. Most of the others had already left, Ada included, but there were still a couple families nearby.

  “How are your Skee-Ball skills, Miss Connor?” he asked, placing a kiss on her cheek.

  George and Scott both giggled as she narrowed her eyes in warning. Hope hadn’t dated anyone since George was born, so she wasn’t entirely sure how to handle Jake’s display of affection. They both knew this was going to be a casual fling, so the last thing she wanted was for George to get the wrong idea. The kid was already too infatuated with Jake.

  So was she, for that matter.

  “Behave,” she murmured. “And my Skee-Ball skills are stellar.”

  Jake tossed an equipment bag over his shoulder. “I’ll be the judge of that. You know where the arcade is or do you want to follow us?”

  “I probably better follow.” Bootlick wasn’t a huge place, but there were more than a few streets she’d never driven down. Until this moment, she hadn’t even known there was an arcade in town, and she was definitely sorry that George suddenly knew about it. She had a feeling he was going to start begging to go there a lot from now on.

  They walked to the parking lot together, then she pulled out behind Jake, after he’d stowed the equipment in the back of the truck. It was a ten-minute drive from the field to the arcade and George talked the entire time, asking if she’d seen him catch the ball or sharing some advice Jake had given him.

  George had been harboring a fair amount of hero worship for Jake since he’d joined them for dinner, mentioning his name countless times in the past week. Now that Jake had moved from Mommy’s friend to Coach, George’s fascination with the man was off the charts. Hope made a mental note to ask Jake not to kiss her or try to hold her hand in front of George. It would confuse her little boy too much.

  Once they arrived, they parked next to each other in the lot, and Jake and Scott waited for them on the curb as they got out.

  Just as she feared, Jake reached for her hand. She shook her head subtly, watching as he gave her a confused look. The boys raced ahead of them, waiting at the door.

  “I don’t think we should act like a couple in front of George,” she said.

  Jake rubbed his jaw. “Would it be an act?”

  She laughed. “You know it would be. I swear, you’re incorrigible. Ada warned me you were a heartbreaker. I see what she means now.”

  Hope meant her words to be funny, but she wasn’t sure Jake took them that way. At least not at first. He gave her a look that almost had her believing she’d hurt his feelings, but then the same affable grin she was becoming too fond of returned.

  �
�No holding hands in front of George. Got it. For the record, that’s going to cost you when we’re alone.”

  “Cost me?”

  “If you’re going to tie my hands—figuratively—in public, I’m going to tie yours—literally—in bed.”

  Hope wasn’t aware that her jaw had dropped until Jake closed her mouth with a finger under her chin. “Careful. You’ll catch flies.”

  She tried to laugh, but even she could hear how breathless it was. Jake’s eyes zoomed in on her mouth and she thought he might forget the deal and kiss her. And she realized she wouldn’t mind if he did.

  “Jake,” Scott called. “Come on.”

  Jake and Hope reached the front door and the boys propelled them inside, directly to the machine that gave tokens. Jake slid in a five-dollar bill for each boy, even though Hope insisted on paying for George’s. When he went ahead anyway, she said, “I’ll pay for the pizza.”

  “We’ll see,” Jake said.

  The two of them grabbed sodas from the fountain machine, placed an order for two large pepperoni pizzas, then found a table, watching as the boys raced from machine to machine, both of them feeling rich with their pockets full of tokens.

  “I’m sorry we couldn’t get together before now,” Jake said.

  “Me too. You have no idea how much.”

  Jake chuckled at the way she emphasized that fact. He leaned closer. “Sweetheart. I was the one who went home hard and hurting. I think you can trust me when I say I might be sorrier.”

  Hope rested her cheek on her hand as she leaned over the table. “Hey, hotshot. I offered.” She hadn’t flirted with a man since…God, since Alan in college. It was fun.

  Jake split the distance between them again, until their faces were only a few inches apart. “You’re making it very hard for me to behave myself. Keep in mind, every single time you bat those pretty eyelashes at me or lick your lips, you’re adding to the tally.”

  God, everything he said was way too hot. And then, without conscious thought, Hope glanced at his gorgeous mouth and licked her lips.

  Jake chuckled, then threw her own word back at her. “Behave.”

  She took a deep breath, then looked away, glancing around the arcade until she found George. He and Scott were playing some Old West shooting range game that looked like a throwback from the sixties. Bootlick was one of those towns that didn’t seem to have fully committed to the twenty-first century yet.

  Scott was cheering George on and she realized the Garrett boys were inherently kind.

  “So Scott’s your brother?”

  “Half brother.”

  “Ada said you have an interesting family.”

  “That’s one way to describe it. A nice way.”

  “I actually think she said it was a hot mess.” Hope purposely didn’t tack on the part Ada added about his family dynamics impacting his ability to make long-term commitments.

  Jake took a sip of his soda. “She’s not wrong about that. My mom and dad split when I was six. I was the only child from their marriage. Dad remarried three months after the divorce was final and had two more kids with my stepmom, Bernice. Then he had an affair—Bernice caught him in bed with her hairdresser—and they divorced. Dad married the hairdresser, Scarlett, who graduated from high school a year ahead of me.”

  “Scarlett?” Hope asked.

  “Yep. Name probably says it all. She’s Scott’s mom. Meanwhile, my mom married her boss at the insurance agency, Harold, about ten years ago, after test-driving a shit ton of boyfriends. They have a couple of kids together.”

  Hope tried to tally up the numbers in her head. “So you have five half siblings, three stepparents, and you went to high school with your most recent stepmom?”

  Jake laughed at her summary. “You nailed it.”

  “Wow. I guess I can see why you’re still single.” Once again, she had meant her words as a joke, but Jake didn’t take it that way.

  His face sobered and he nodded slowly.

  His response to her observation surprised her. “Exactly. When I do get married, I’m going to be damn sure I’m marrying the right woman. Divorce sucks.”

  All the gossip she’d heard indicated that Jake was never getting married at all.

  So was he saying that for her benefit? Saying things he thought she wanted to hear.

  Hope recalled Alan at school, telling her she was different from the other girls, that she’d turned his head and made him want things he’d never wanted before. It had all been bullshit, of course. Empty words used to make him more appealing to her. And it had worked.

  Was Jake employing the same method as part of the seduction?

  Hope could have told him he didn’t have to pretend to be something he wasn’t.

  She wanted sex. He wanted sex. There were no hurdles, and he certainly didn’t have to try so hard to impress her.

  The pizza arrived, and they called the boys over. She’d thought two pizzas would be too many, but three hungry males proved her wrong quickly.

  The boys ate at the speed of light, both chomping at the bit to spend their last few tokens, then hit the prize counter with their tickets.

  Once every crust was gone, they asked to be excused and were off again.

  “So…” Jake said, once they were alone, leaning closer to murmur, “What were we talking about before? Oh yeah. Me tying you up in bed.”

  Hope laughed at his lousy segue. “I don’t remember talking about that.”

  “If we weren’t, we should have been. Here’s how it’s going to go down.”

  Despite her better judgment, she shifted until their faces were far too close again. She wanted to kiss him, wanted to straddle his lap and dry hump his crotch.

  Right here.

  In the arcade.

  “Or should I say how I’m going to go down?” he corrected.

  Panties wet. Check.

  Nipples hard. Check.

  Pussy clenching. Check. Check. Check.

  Only with Jake had she ever experienced a need so powerful, it physically hurt.

  “Keep talking,” she urged.

  “I’m going to tie your hands behind your back, around the pole at the station. Then I’m going to tug off those godawful jeans that hide way too much of your sweet ass and throw them away.”

  “They’re my mom jeans.”

  “I repeat, they’re going in the garbage. At that point, you’ll be hot for me, begging me to take you.”

  “I don’t beg.”

  Please God. Yes. Take me. Take me right fucking now.

  “Like I said, begging. I’m going to kneel in front of you and put one of your legs over my shoulder.” He glanced down, then placed his hand on her left knee. “That one. That one’s going up. Then I’m going to put my lips on your—”

  “Hey, Jake.”

  Hope moved away from Jake quickly, her response the same as if her parents had just come home and caught her with a boy in her bedroom. Jake grinned and gave her a quick wink. She had no doubt her cheeks were flushed and she was struggling to catch her breath.

  As she leaned back in her chair, she barely restrained a groan when Lauren Rogers sashayed to the table, looking like she was walking the catwalk in Paris during Fashion Week.

  Hope glanced down at her baggy jeans—Jake was right, they sucked—and her favorite faded Queen T-shirt. Her hair was still in the braid she’d plaited this morning, and she hadn’t bothered to touch up her makeup either.

  Why would she?

  Her original plan when she’d left the house this afternoon had been to sit like a moody bitch on the bleachers at tee-ball practice. If she’d known Jake was the coach, she would have tried a hell of a lot harder.

  Of course, her current appearance hadn’t occurred to her until she saw Lauren. Probably because Jake looked at Hope like she was gorgeous. A girl could get used to those looks of his. Which was probably why his track record at charming women out of their pants was so great.

  Lauren had touched up every
thing before coming out tonight. She’d added fresh mascara and lipstick and not a damn blonde hair was out of place as it hung loose and wavy over her shoulders in a sexy style that—as Hope looked around the pizza place—was achieving Lauren’s desired effect. Hope counted at least three guys staring at the blonde, practically drooling.

  Lauren had changed out of what she sneeringly referred to as her school uniform—which was basically appropriate shirts and dress pants. Apparently, her idea of Monday night pizza and arcade attire was a miniskirt and a low-cut shirt with no less than a dozen bangle bracelets on each wrist.

  Lauren narrowed her eyes when she saw Hope, then smirked at her outfit. “Oh. Hi, Hope. I didn’t see you there. Taking a quick break from housecleaning to pick up a pizza?”

  Before Hope could come up with a suitable retort, Jake took over the conversation. “Hope and I grabbed some dinner with the boys after tee-ball practice.”

  Lauren glanced around and saw Scott. She called out his name and he waved. “Hey, Aunt Lauren.”

  Aunt Lauren? Was Lauren part of Jake’s twisted family tree?

  “Honorary name,” she said to Hope. “I’m really close with Jake…and his family.”

  Hope didn’t imagine the pause the other woman had inserted. Lauren was making sure it sounded like she was close to Jake’s family because of him.

  “Scarlett and Lauren were best friends in high school,” Jake explained.

  “Gotcha,” Hope said, grateful that he’d taken the time to clarify.

  Lauren dismissed her presence at the table, all her attention focused on Jake. “I’m picking up a pizza to take back to Scarlett’s. We’re doing a little girls’ night with margaritas.”

  “On a school night?” Hope wanted to kick her own ass the second the question flew out because it only solidified Lauren’s impression of her as the world’s most boring “good girl.”

  She rolled her eyes for Jake’s benefit. “That’s our Hope. Ever the rule follower.” Lauren glanced at her phone. “It’s nearly seven. I’m surprised you’re out so late. Aren’t you worried about missing curfew, Hope?”