Burning Desire by Marie Harte

Chapter Eighteen

Sunday morning, after leaving the station for the first of his next ninety-six hours off, Tex ran next to Bree at a slower pace than he was used to, but he loved watching her body move. Even clothed.

Tall and toned with curves in the right places, Bree looked amazing in shorts and a T-shirt as they jogged part of the Lake Union Loop, passing fellow runners and outdoor enthusiasts. The weather had warmed. The sun overhead shone brightly through spots of fluffy, white clouds, and birds chirped while squirrels raced up and down trees.

“It’s so nice out,” he said, confused, because Seattle liked to tease glimpses of the sun before whisking it away behind clouds and rain that came and went all day long.

“I mean, how hard is it to just save a small amount of time for your best friend?” Bree groused and picked up a little speed.

He kept pace, not liking all the attention she earned as they ran on the popular trail. He’d felt jealousy before but never so deeply.

“Right?” she asked, breathing harder.

“Huh? Oh, ah, right.” He nodded. “Why did Carrie ask her over?”

“She’s playing peacemaker. And taking sides,” Bree bit off and sprinted ahead.

Tex wondered if he should let her win, enjoying watching the back of her. Then his competitive nature kicked in, and he caught up with her.

She glared at him.

He smiled back and increased his speed.

She swore at him and ran faster.

They dodged a few fellow runners and walking groups before she started to slow. Tex kept pace, loving the burn of muscle, and finally stopped to walk with her when she moved to the side and bent over, breathing heavily.

“I hate you,” she wheezed while he stretched his neck and took in a nice breath, letting it out easily.

“Many do. It’s not easy to be this beautiful.” He posed with his left leg behind him and flexed his calf.

Two women running by whistled.

He laughed.

Bree shot him the finger.

He laughed harder.

When she stood and started jogging again, slowly, he fell in step next to her.

“It’s my job to be fit. Don’t worry. I bet you’re better than me at other things.” At the look she shot him, he bit back more laughter and said, “Okay, you’re better than me at everything. Let me have this. And weight lifting.” He paused. “And maybe drinking. I’m pretty sure I can drink more than you.”

She clamped her lips tight, but he saw the grin.

“And I’m funnier,” he just had to say.

“Shut it, Roger.” She chuckled. “You’re such a pain.”

“It’s like you’re channeling my brothers.”

They headed toward her car, having completed their run. The lake mirrored the sky, boaters enjoying the nice weather as well. Sailboats, paddlers, and a few motorized boats traveled the light waves while more people parked and came out to enjoy Lake Union and the sunny skies.

“Didn’t you say your brothers were coming soon?” she asked as they headed to his truck.

“Yeah. I think they’ll be here next week. I sent Wyatt a few messages, but he hasn’t returned them. The ass.”

She smiled. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

Tex considered her for a moment, and his smile left him.

“What?”

“I don’t want them liking you too much.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

“Because Wyatt’s an easy guy to like,” he growled. “At least Oliver’s married.”

Her frown cleared. “Well, now. Who’s feeling jealous?”

“I am.” He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her in front of all the jackasses looking too hard at her in that thin tee and those short shorts. But she’d get mad, accuse him of acting like an idiot, and then he’d be in the doghouse. And he’d been doing so well, lately.

She watched him, nodded, then waited by the passenger side of the truck.

When he unlocked it for her and held it open, she winked. “Good.”

“Good?” Man, he planned to make her eat those words later on.

“Now you know how I feel when we go somewhere and the women are eating you alive with their grubby little stares.”

“What about the men?”

“Them too.”

“Oh, well, that’s flattering.” He couldn’t help laughing. “I meant, how the hell do you think I feel when I see men gawking at you? You’re gorgeous and mine, and I can’t tell anyone about it.” The light moment turned dark, fast.

She sighed. “It sucks.”

“You don’t like it either?”

“No.” She shrugged. “But what do you want to do? Tell everyone we’re dating?”

Everyone meant Battalion Chief John Gilchrist.

“I do, except, I think, maybe…”

“Exactly. We’re still new. We need to take it slowly.”

“I agree.”

“I mean, we’re being smart, right? We spend time at your place or mine a lot. But when we go out, we usually go to places where most of your friends don’t go. Or we go out on a Sunday morning, when most people are still in bed.”

Or in church. Dang. He’d say a few prayers later for missing.

“Yeah. We’re being smart.” He started the truck and headed for his place. Bree had packed a bag and planned to spend the day with him. Just the two of them being together.

Tex didn’t know how it had happened, but he enjoyed their downtime. Whereas before it had been all about getting down with a woman in bed, with Bree, he wanted to do things with her. Not just to her.

Today she’d promised to teach him how to make a six-tiered hazelnut chocolate cake. He couldn’t wait. And if they had extra frosting, he had plans to show her how inventive he could be with leftovers.

“Tell me about your brothers,” she said as he drove.

Immediately killing the need between his legs.

“Buzzkill,” he murmured.

She grinned.

“I told you about them.”

“Not details.”

They’d swapped a lot of stories about her family and his firefighter brethren but not so much about his family in Texas.

“Fine. I’m the youngest of four. There’s Liam, who’s thirty-four. He’s married to Nat. She’s the lawyer who reminds me of Carrie. Their boy is Jonah. He’s four.” Tex loved that kid. “He’s my mini-me. Got a mouth on him.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Next is Oliver. He’s a year younger than Liam and married to Sierra. They’re plannin’ on a baby in another six months. Just married too. Can you believe they had sex before saying I do?”

“The shock. The horror.”

He laughed. “Maybe you are funnier than me.”

“No maybe about it.” She stuck her tongue at him.

“Promises, promises.”

“And there goes our conversation. Right into the gutter.”

“Then there’s Wyatt,” Tex said, doing his best to ignore thoughts of Bree’s tongue when talking about his family. “He’s only two years older than me. He’s pretty bossy; probably why he’s still single.” Tex paused. “Wyatt and I are closest.” He didn’t mention his brother’s drinking problem, because that was Wyatt’s to share or not share. “I love my family.”

“And your mom and dad?”

“You mean Peter and Sara Ann McGovern? The patriarch and matriarch of the McGovern Ranch?”

“Oh, like, a real ranch? With cowboys and horses and everything?”

He glanced to see her eyes wide. “Yeah. Now how sexy am I? A real cowboy for you, darlin’.” Shoot. He’d left his hat at home.

“A cowboy in Seattle. Not as sexy as you think.”

“That hurts.”

She jabbed him in the side and grinned when he started. “Oh, ticklish.”

“Don’t even try it,” he snarled. “I’m driving.” He hated getting poked.

Her eyes twinkled. “Sure thing, cowboy. Safety first. Eyes on the road and all that.”

“Smart-ass.”

“So does your whole family work on the ranch? Are you the only one who got away?”

“We all get away and end up comin’ back, working at the ranch.” He paused, missing his family a lot all of a sudden. After clearing his throat, he continued, “It’s tradition that when we graduate high school, we hit the service. It’s our choice, though to hear Daddy tell it, only a real man goes into the Corps.”

“Corps?”

He sighed. “Marine Corps. Come on, Bree. Keep up.”

“I’ll give you something to keep up,” she muttered.

He bit back a grin. “So Daddy, like his daddy and granddaddy and so on before him, signed up. Got out as a gunnery sergeant years later, then settled down on the ranch and married my momma. Liam and Oliver both did their time in and got out after four years, though Liam rebelled by going Air Force. Wyatt served for six years before he got out. Had some hard times over there, but he’s straight and all now.” He glanced over at her.

Bree nodded, her eyes soft with concern. “What about you?”

“I played for a year in college, knowing I wouldn’t stay. Did my tour in the Marines. Six-year contract. Loved the hell out of it too.” He smiled, remembering his friends, his time served with pride and dedication.

“Why did you get out?”

“I felt it wasn’t gonna be my everything, you know? I was a grunt. Basic infantry. The hard work, the backbone really, of the USMC. I was good at it.”

“I’ll bet, Mr. Muscles.”

He grinned. “But then I moved out here and fell in love with firefighting. My parents weren’t happy I didn’t come home to stay.” He pulled into the driveway, and they left and locked up the car. “But what can you do? Texas is my home, my family. But so is Seattle.” He smiled at her.

“Do you think you’ll move back any time soon?” she asked, though he thought he heard something deeper in the question.

“Who knows? Not anytime soon, for sure. This is a good life. I have great friends, a kick-ass girlfriend, and a dream job. Hell, I might even get my face in an art gallery. Can’t be doing that in Texas now, can I?”

She laughed and slung her bag over her shoulder. “No, you can’t. But you know what you can do?”

“What?” he asked as they walked into his home and were greeted by an enthusiastic Bubbles.

“You can get that water running. I need to clean up before I make you the best Sunday brunch cake you’ve ever had.”

“Brunch cake. Sounds perfect.”

Except he didn’t get the dessert he’d really been hankering for—a side of wet, naked girlfriend in the shower. Bree insisted on bathing alone, despite his wheedling, and forced him to clean up after she’d finished first.

When he returned, fresh as a freaking daisy, she was at work in the kitchen making him a hell of a breakfast.

“Surprise.” She smiled. “I know you hate mornings. And you listened to me rant for a good mile.”

“More like two.”

She continued to smile. “Don’t be an ass. As I was saying, this breakfast is for you.” The pancakes had been decorated with eggs for eyes and a strip of bacon for a mouth. A cup of fresh fruit sat to the side.

He looked at the food, back up at her smile, and felt his heart race off the cliff and break at her feet. The warmth of her care had him feeling so much, and he had to take a step back from the emotional precipice for fear of making a terrible leap before she was ready to catch him.

What had he told the guys? That he’d make her fall in love with him?

Yeah, right.

“Tex?” She frowned.

“I just…” He coughed to clear his throat. “I’m so disappointed.”

“You—what?”

“I was expecting a naked Bree covered in a half apron serving me cake. Like, cutting it and feeding it to me.” He sighed. “I guess this is good too.”

He laughed when she balled a towel and threw it at his head. Hurrying around the kitchen island to hug her in thanks, he muffled her anger with kisses.

She pulled back, grumbling. “That’s a little better.”

“If I tell you how amazin’ you are right now, your head will get too big. Then you’ll leave me for a prettier fella. And I’ll never be the same.”

“You got that right.” She poked him in the side, and he flinched. “Ha. I know your vulnerable spots, buddy. You just watch yourself.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He kissed her again and sighed against her mouth. “Thanks for the happy pancakes, Bree.” He pulled back. “Can we eat together now? We can talk about how awful Melissa is and how much my brothers are going to like you.”

“Oh, well, that sounds like a plan. And don’t think the chocolate cake is off the table. I’m making that after we’re finished here.”

Tex tucked away a stack of pancakes and could have eaten more. “Woman, you can cook. This is even better than your baked chicken.”

“Wow, that good, huh?” She laughed, still working through her breakfast. She paused before taking the next bite. “Can I tell you something?”

He sipped his coffee, wondering if taking a few more pancakes would make him look like a pig. Probably.

“Tex,” she said.

“Huh? Sorry. My brain is full on pancakes.”

She smiled, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes. “Can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything. I mean it.”

“I’m worried.”

“About…?” Him? Her dad? Their relationship? Carrie?

“The art grant.”

He frowned, not having considered that. “Why?”

She put her fork down and ran a hand through her hair, which she’d left down. It was so pretty, a curtain of gold framing the most interesting face in the world.

Tex loved watching her, not just to take in her beauty but to study the expressive way she reacted to things. And then she’d talk, and he’d hear all that intelligence and think what a hell of a package Bree Gilchrist really was.

“Sometimes, I don’t think I can do it. I’m not that good, and people will find out.”

“Not that good?” He blinked. “Are you kidding?”

She blushed. “No. I’m a good photographer. I can capture a smile, a pose, an aspiration of art. But the real emotion, the life behind the still, sometimes I think I’m only seeing what I want to see. And I want to be a great photographer, not just good. A true artist. So, tell me I can do it. That I have it in me to be great.” She looked at him for hope. Guidance. Advice, maybe?

He had plenty. “You’re on crack.”

“I—what?”

“Bree, everyone can see the way you work. You have an eye for it. Even Carrie said so.”

“She’s my friend.”

“She’s also known for telling the truth. And honey, you’re hot as hell. But no way they gave you twenty-five grand because you’re pretty when you hold a camera.”

She flushed. “No, I earned that grant.”

“Then why the lack of confidence? I understand nerves. It’s a big fuckin’ deal. But come on. You’re the one telling me how lucky I am to have you. Are you telling me you’re not worth it?”

“This isn’t a relationship thing, Tex.” She flew out of her seat and started pacing. “Don’t you get it? It’s such a huge deal. Everyone I know, who knows me, who knows my dad, will see my work. And that’s just at the showing. Then there’s the gallery. The. Gallery. What if my project isn’t up to IAG standards?”

“Then fuck ’em.”

She stopped pacing and stared at him. “That’s your answer? Fuck ’em?”

“Look, you’re an artist. And you’re blond,” he said to get a rise out of her. “It’s pretty much a given you’re going to be flaky.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“But, honey, no way anyone is going to blow smoke up your ass and call it a masterpiece. If that IAG chick called to ask you to show your stuff, it’s because she knows you’re a quality date.”

“Huh?”

A quality date: you’ll blow and swallow, and that don’t come cheap—a phrase his brother had once used on his fiancée as a compliment. That Natalie still married Liam had baffled everyone. But for some reason the phrase made sudden sense to Tex.

“What I’m trying to say is you’re smart and talented, and you don’t seem to know how rare that is. That you’re not all conceited and bitchy.” She just stared at him, so he tried again. “Ever heard the phrase ‘you’ll blow and swallow, and that don’t come cheap’?”

“I… I want to say you’re complimenting me, but I can’t figure out how.” Her eyes narrowed.

He flushed. “I know that was crude. But I’m trying to make a point.”

“That I’m weak-willed because I’ll swallow on the first date—which I didn’t, by the way? Or that I’m a dumb blond?”

Well, at least now you look pissed at me and not scared of the heavy weight on your shoulders.“I’m saying the IAG lady knows art. She knows what an honor it is to get that grant. And she’s seen your work. You’ve been around long enough for people to know you with or without this huge hairy deal. And damn, girl. I’ve seen your stuff, and you’re the Ansel Adams of people.”

“You do know there’s more than just Ansel Adams who’s known for photography?” Her lips twitched. Finally.

“Who cares? I only know I like you. And so does the art council.”

“Council?”

He shrugged. “The fancy folks who voted you in to do the project. They believe in you. I do. You should believe in you.”

“I do.”

Annoyed, he glared at her. “Then why all the drama?”

“I just had a moment of insecurity. I have those. I’m an arteest.” She moved closer and poked him in the side. “Deal with it.”

“I will. But you better quit poking me.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll poke you back.”

***

Bree felt like a complete idiot. She’d let her self-doubt get to her, and she’d told Tex. And like a big doofus, instead of listening and nodding and letting her get it all out, like Carrie usually did, he’d tried to solve her problems by telling her…something about being a good date?

Now Tex glared at her, her sweet, manly boyfriend with bulging biceps and a heaving, broad chest, offended because she hadn’t wept in his arms and thanked him profusely for giving her that pat on the back she needed. She wanted to both thank him for his support and correct him for not listening. All she’d wanted was a simple “you can do it.”

Instead, she poked him again.

His eyes darkened…in both anger and lust. A glance down his glorious body showed her how much he wanted to set her straight.

He wore a T-shirt and athletic shorts that reached his knees. Thin, cotton shorts that lovingly clung to every part of him.

“You poked the bear, baby. Now prepare to pay the price.”

“Bear?” She blinked as he got naked right in front of her.

Bubbles, she noticed, slunk away and buried herself in the living room under a blanket. At least one of them had some dignity. Bree wanted to mount his maypole. And it was June.

“A hungry bear. I was going to wait for chocolate cake, but I think it’s time you learned your lesson, Goldilocks.”

She bit back a laugh. “Oh. But which bear are you?” She couldn’t look away from his erection, even as she mock-cringed and taunted, “Baby bear?”

“You know, you really aren’t funnier than me.”

Then he pounced.

She shrieked and laughed, not having expected the fast move. Darting around the counter in her attempt to evade him, she feinted left then right and raced down the hall.

Tex caught her easily and pinned her against the wall in the middle of the hallway.

“Pay up, or shut up.”

She closed her mouth, zipped her lip, and tossed an invisible key.

He loomed over her, grinning. “Nah, you need to pay.”

She opened her mouth, and he kissed her.

His hands were moving, her clothing flying one way then another, but he kept kissing her.

She groaned and twined her arms around his neck, hugging him closer, and sighed when her bare breasts grazed his chest. His mouth trailed to her throat, his hands busy touching, exploring.

Then he lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. God, the size of his erection against her belly was massive.

“You need something to help you feel better, Goldilocks?”

“What do you have in mind?” she said between kissing his chest, his neck, anywhere she could reach.

He slid his hand between them, angling down, and his finger disappeared inside her.

“Oh,” she gasped, staring into his eyes as he moved the digit deeper, grazing her clit with his thumb.

“Yeah, so hot for me.” He smiled, his expressions mesmerizing. Satisfied, turned on, and intense. “I think what you really need is a good fuck.”

“I think you’re right.”

He removed his finger and replaced it with something bigger. “Let’s see if this size fits just right.”

“Oh my God, stop talking.”

His laughter turned to a groan as he sheathed himself inside her. In one fast, deep thrust, he filled her completely. But her big bear didn’t give her time to get used to him. Instead, he gripped her ass and moved. In and out, deeper, banging her into the wall.

The fast, hard thrusts hit her in just the right spot time after time, until she was seeing fireworks behind closed lids and screaming her pleasure.

He followed not long after, jetting into her as he ground against her.

After some time, he leaned back to look down at her. His face flushed, his eyes dark and sleepy, he smiled. “You know, with all your insecurities, we should probably do that again. I mean, we need to find a bed that fits you, right? Because this wall just won’t do.”

“You have totally ruined fairy tales for me.”

He chuckled.

“When do you play the Big Bad Wolf who eats Little Red Riding Hood?”

“I should say I’m full from breakfast. But actually, you’re the one who’s full, aren’t you, Goldie?”

“Just stop. Please.” She tried not to laugh. Then she started and couldn’t stop.

He watched her slide down the wall in tears. “And think, we can add more innuendo on top of all my hose jokes. Man, this day just keeps getting better.” He pulled her to her feet, then hefted her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

“Oof.” So much for a romantic carry to his room. Dangling over his shoulder, she slapped him on the ass. “I’ve got one for you. Fire in the hole!” Her giggle turned into a snort then more laughter.

“Darlin’, ain’t no fire ever going near that hole. I can promise you that.”

She couldn’t help more laughter as she slapped him again. That ass was just begging for it! She wondered if her glutes would ever get that tight. Just…wow.

Tex gently jostled her on his shoulder. “Say, I like this fairy-tale theme. Have you ever seen the porn version of Cinderella? The prince never wears pants.”

Bree smiled at his dimpled butt. “Oh? Do tell…”