The Spark Between Us by Stacy Travis

Chapter Twenty-Six

Braden

I leanedagainst the passenger door of my truck, as had become my habit at the end of every workday. Maybe my life had become too much of a grind without enough surprises. Maybe I’d forgotten that it was possible to be happy.

But since Sarah had moved in with me, happiness seemed within reach.

And it freaks you the hell out, admit it.

For the first few weeks, I wasn’t sure what to make of any of it. I just reveled in the fact that I could feel again for the first time in two years.

Then I started to crave the feeling like an addict.

For weeks it was easy to live in the present like we’d agreed upon when we made our rules. Six months felt like an eternity. There was no reason to think ahead. Six months of fun and great sex would surely satisfy my needs, and there was no need to think about what my life would be like when she moved back to Berkeley.

But I was starting to think. Then I was doing my damnedest not to think. Because it didn’t get me anywhere. The whole point of us was to live in the present and not think.

Sure, just keep telling yourself that.

All I knew was that standing outside the lab each afternoon had become a highlight of my day. Every time Sarah walked through the double doors at the entrance, my heart swelled to the point that the ache was almost painful. I marveled at how much I liked this woman, how much I wanted her, how much I . . . could not fall for her.

Except that I already had.

Today, Sarah wasn’t alone when she came through the doors. Walking next to her was a man, slightly older but easily the silver fox type who probably had his pick of women. He had a full head of white hair and a solid build, no middle-aged paunch or sag about him. He was laughing at something Sarah said, and his perfect teeth glinted in the sunlight.

When they got to the driveway, Sarah turned and hugged him. For a little too long, if I’m honest. Then he kissed her on the cheek and went back into the building. She bounded over to me and her lips sunk into mine. I almost forgot about the silver fox. Almost.

“Hi! I’m very excited about our field trip.” She wrapped her arms around my waist and looked up at me, eyes sparkling.

I’d forgotten that I’d couched my plan in the form of a field trip. At the time, I’d thought it sounded bookish and scientific. Now, my eyes still saw the silhouette of the silver fox when I looked at Sarah.

“Who was he?” I made no pretense of my distaste for the man she’d hugged, even though I knew it was irrational. For months, she’d spent almost every night with me. It wasn’t physically possible for her to be dating other people—there was no time in the day.

Except that there was time. Every day. How did I know what—or who—she did at work all day long?

This is crazy. Irrational. Get a grip.

Sarah was looking at me like I’d grown an extra set of arms and was using them to signal alien aircraft. “He? You mean Earl?”

Earl? What kind of a name was that? Was he an actual earl? “I dunno. The guy you walked out with. I’ve never seen you with any of your colleagues.”

“Oh, yeah. He wanted to keep talking, and I didn’t want you to be waiting out here forever, so he walked me out.” She didn’t want to keep me waiting. The jealous guy she was sleeping with. I needed to chill.

“Got it. So how was your day?”

A grin spread over her face. “Great, thanks for asking.”

I opened her door and waited until she hopped in. She’d given me enough grief over the past few months that I’d finally decided to dispense with grabbing her hand and helping her in. But she hesitated, turning her aqua eyes up to me. “I know, I know. You’re a capable woman. I’m not trying to help you into the truck,” I grumbled.

Pressing her lips together, she couldn’t suppress her smile. “I guess I . . . I kind of got used to it.”

“Does that mean my self-sufficient damsel likes a helping hand?” It was hard to hide my smirk.

“I guess I like your helping hand.”

“Then Damsel, I’m at your service.” With a slight bow, I helped her into the truck, loving that I’d bent her to my will a tiny bit. There was no doubt in my mind she could climb into the truck. It was never about that. I liked the formality of chivalry, almost like a courtship dance, and I liked having her as my partner.

After I’d pulled away from the lab, Sarah turned to me. “Hey, how come you never pick me up on the motorcycle? That could be fun.”

“No way. Not happening,” I said.

She cocked her head. “Why not?”

“It’s dangerous. I’m not putting you on a bike. Not ever.”

She parked her hand on my thigh and leaned in. “Because you think I’m accident-prone?”

“No. Like I said, bikes are dangerous. The same way you feel about me going into a fire scene, that’s how I’d feel about you on a bike.”

“And yet you still ride.”

She had me there. “I ride less than I used to.”

“Uh huh. Hypocrite.” She had me there too.

A few minutes later, we pulled up to the firehouse of Engine 97. Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Did you forget something at work?”

I shook my head, feeling a little smug about my plan. “Nope.”

“Okaaay . . . am I coming in or should I wait in the truck?”

I slipped out of my seat and went around to her side. She smiled when I opened the door and extended a hand. “You’re coming in.”

She looked at me quizzically, but matched me stride for stride up the walkway to the station. “Am I getting a tour?”

“You are.” I felt my body hum with anticipation.

“Seriously? I’ve always wanted a tour of the fire department.”

I wished I could have captured her look of delight and bottled it for posterity. “You could have asked me weeks ago.”

“I know, but I didn’t want to seem like a firefighter groupie.”

“Firefighter? I thought I was a fireman.”

“You’re my fireman. That’s different. All the rest of these guys are firefighters. Not that I want them to get hurt either. You know.”

I did know. I also knew how to give a good tour of the firehouse. Over the years, we’d had school groups, church groups, and potential recruits come through for tours, but I’d never felt prouder to show the place off. Sarah bounced on her toes, so giddy that I felt more fissures form in the carefully erected walls around my heart.

And as much as I couldn’t let anyone break down those walls entirely, it felt good to let Sarah swing at them for all they were worth. Because maybe they weren’t worth shit.

“What do you want to see first?” I spread my arms wide.

She didn’t even hesitate. “The kitchen. Natch.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to cook me something. I skipped lunch because Earl and I spent like six hours working with the lasers, and I’m starved.” Earl again. I tried not to think about what she and the silver fox were doing with such intensity that it would make Sarah skip a meal. That was unlike her.

I pushed through the swinging kitchen door to the room I’d never bothered to show anyone except probies. It had a metal table with six metal chairs in the middle of the room and white painted cabinets. It was about as nondescript as a kitchen could be, unless someone was cooking, in which case there would be ingredients spread out everywhere and a mess of pots and pans.

I leaned against the sink while Sarah walked around the room, peeking inside cupboards and opening drawers. Her curiosity amused me. Her hugging colleague still did not.

“What were you and Earl working on?” I tried to keep my voice casual and curious. Not jealous.

“Oh! This is so great. We figured out a way to use the same lasers we earmarked for the project, but we made an adjustment that increased their power by tenfold. Which means we can solder the metals more quickly to prevent any melting. The whole thing I’ve been stressing about for weeks, I think we nailed it!”

I wanted to share her excitement even though about half of what she was telling me about lasers was lost on me. But I couldn’t get the niggling image of Earl kissing her on the cheek out of my head. “Do you and Earl work together daily? Is he a big part of your team?”

She stopped moving around the room and looked at me. Then she walked over to where I stood, wrapped her arms around me, and laid her head on my chest. She didn’t tell me about Earl or explain that the sixty-year-old physicist wasn’t any kind of threat. She didn’t need to.

I stroked her hair, and inhaled a calming breath. To hell with Earl. I had everything I needed.

Lifting her face from my chest, I brushed a gentle kiss against her lips and reached for her hand. I opened the fridge to check the inventory of leftovers and catalog whether we had any decent ingredients. “How about a grilled cheese?”

Sarah licked her lips. “Perfect.”

A few minutes later, I’d hustled up two sandwiches and a couple cans of sweetened iced tea, and we continued our tour of the place.

“Where is everyone?” Sarah looked around the bay, craning her neck to check the corners where she must have thought the guys were hiding.

“Out on a call. Downed power pole, so they need to be onsite in case the wires spark up during removal. They were heading out when I left to get you.” I hesitated, knowing she got nervous at the thought of me being in danger, but I had to tell her. There was a good chance that tonight’s shit would get real.

She studied me. “What aren’t you telling me?” I recalled asking her the same thing when we were at the bike shop, and I saw the depths of concern in her eyes about losing her license. Apparently, she’d learned to read me too. I liked it. A lot.

“There’s a decent chance we’ll get called out tonight on something bigger. Grisley Fire. It’s burning out in Mount Diablo.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Oh, yeah. I heard about that. Is it bad?”

I wanted to lie and allay her fears, but the fire was zero percent contained, and we were heading into a potentially rough night. “It’s not great. Already burned over ten thousand acres. So far, we haven’t been called for backup, but we’re standing by. The real danger is tonight if the wind doesn’t do what we’re expecting.”

“What are you expecting?” She took a step closer to me, protectively. I wasn’t too worried about the fire, but I loved knowing she cared.

“Well, the weather report shows easterly wind in the evening, which would be great because it would force the fire back over the area that’s already burned. So that’ll give us time to regroup and get a handle on it.”

Sarah exhaled a breath she’d been holding, and her shoulders dropped. She blinked up at me and nodded. “Oh. Okay, well, that sounds good. I feel better knowing that.”

I knew she was nervous, but I didn’t want to sugarcoat things so much that it was as good as a lie.

“Yeah, it’s just . . . fires are weird because fires create their own wind, so even when we think we know what the weather is going to do, the fire can do something else. That’s when things happen, like when the whole town of Paradise burned to the ground. It happened too fast for anyone to predict it. The fire burned four football fields worth of brush a second.”

“Jesus.” She was silent after that, and I knew her mind was racing with the implications. And I knew the question that would be on her mind next. “You think you’ll get called tonight?”

I nodded. I couldn’t lie to her. Didn’t want to. “It’s likely.”

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders like she was getting ready for battle. “Okay then, let’s tour this place and hope for easterly winds.”

* * *

Everyone hastheir favorite part of the station, and I was no different. I leaned into the history.

Knowing Sarah, there was a decent chance she’d done her research and already knew about the odd artifact I wanted to show her, but I held out hope it might still surprise her.

We walked into the front gallery, where I guided her to what looked pretty much like an ordinary lightbulb. Encased in a wooden display box, it burned dimly. “It’s called the Millennium Light. And it holds a world record.” I pointed at the barely shining bulb, which glowed like the dying light of a ten-year-old flashlight. The thing wouldn’t impress a soul without a history lesson.

“Really? For what? I feel like I should have heard of this.”

“Nah, not unless you live around here. You can see it’s not super bright, just four watts, but this thing has been burning for over one hundred and ten years.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yup. It’s in the Guinness Book.”

Dude, you’re showing her a geriatric lightbulb.

Did she even care? What was I doing?

Her bright eyes told me she did. “Well, that’s something to crow about. Go, little light bulb.” She smiled, but when her eyes drifted over my face without looking me in the eye, I knew her mind was churning.

“And . . . she’s gone. Lemme have it, Damsel, what’s going through your head?”

She shrugged. “I’m just trying to figure out how it’s possible. I mean, the thing should burn out like any other bulb. So what’s the angle?”

“I don’t know, but it was hand-blown and has a carbon filament, so maybe that’s the secret sauce.” I read from the plaque on the front of the case. “Originally installed by Oscar Damascus Walton, it’s been maintained for generations. I think it was disconnected a few times to move to other stations, and there’ve been some power failures, so I guess the world record thing takes that into account.”

“Very cool, fireman. And the carbon filament part is super interesting. I guess they don’t make them like they used to, huh?” She nudged me with an elbow and grinned. The simple gesture made my heart do a backflip.

I had it bad for her. It was getting harder to talk myself out of that fact.

It was also becoming worrisome because we were way past the halfway mark of her time here, and I knew I’d feel a huge void when she left.

Everyone leaves.

We went upstairs to see the bunks where we all slept on overnight shifts. Boots lined the wall with our pantlegs draped over them so we could throw them on and go. “I feel like I’ve seen this setup in movies, but I guess they’re based on fact. You really do hop into your boots. Do you slide down a pole too?”

Gesturing behind her, I indicated said pole. “You want to take it for a test drive? I’m not gonna lie—ever since you told me you were a pole dancer, I’ve been fantasizing about seeing you wrap your legs around this thing.” It had been my ulterior motive when I’d concocted this little field trip.

The wicked gleam in her eye told me everything I needed to know. “I wouldn’t exactly call myself a pole dancer. I do it as a workout.”

“Semantics.”

She grinned. “I think I can make use of this.” And without hesitation, she leaped forward and slid down the pole. When she was free and clear at the bottom, I followed and moved to the side.

With her hand on the pole, Sarah walked around it in a circle, assessing the feel of it and the obvious weight of my stare on her. Would she dance? Or was the whole idea of me ogling her going to make her uncomfortable? I didn’t dare say a word, lest I discourage her.

She tipped her head back and jumped onto the pole, spinning around it easily once before dismounting and nodding at me. “Yeah. This could work.” The sight of her fingering the pole and winding her legs around it got me hot in an instant.

“Oh baby, it’s already working.” The instantaneous throb in my pants confirmed it.

Sarah stared down at her creased black pants, considering. “There’s really no one here? You promise?”

“Couple guys are out back, but unless they want to be looking for a job tomorrow, they’re not coming in. It’s just us, Damsel.”

“Okay, then.” Peeling off the conservative work pants, she revealed a hot pink pair of cheekies. “I need a little more freedom of movement.” My greedy eyes fixated on her fingers deftly undoing the buttons of her light pink cardigan sweater, revealing a ribbed tank top that fit her like a second skin. The delight in her eyes when she gazed at the pole made me certain my gamble had paid off—she was into my idea.

Grabbing her phone from inside her purse, Sarah shuffled through her playlists until she found one she liked. The first notes from “Blow Me a Kiss” by Pink danced from her phone, and Sarah jumped onto the pole again.

I had no idea what to expect. Admittedly, my experience with pole dancing came from a few guys’ bachelor parties that landed us at strip clubs. I stood slumped against the ladder truck with my jaw hanging open while she amazed me with the strength of her abs and her legs, which were flexing and gripping the pole as she hooked a leg around the metal and spun in a circle.

She was no longer the pragmatic scientist who weighed every decision and chose based on the best outcome. She danced without a care or a plan, letting the music guide her body slower as she flipped upside down and spread her legs into a V and back upright as she gripped the pole with her thighs and leaned back for a luxurious spin.

She took my breath away with her inhibition and her grace. Curling her bare foot around the pole, she held on with one hand and leaned away, twirling slowly until she came around to where I stood. Leaning as close to me as possible, she smiled. “Thank you for letting me do this. I’ve missed it.”

I was the one filled with gratitude.

And also some prominent wood.

“I love this side of you.” I kissed her lips before she wound her legs around the pole again and moved faster with the music. A sheen of sweat gathered on her skin, tempting me to lick it off. But I didn’t dare move.

“Most of the time, I’m focused on the workout.” She wrapped her legs around the pole so she could flip upside down again. Tendrils of hair fell out of the clip at the back and landed around her face, framing her soulful eyes. “But right now, I’m focused on you.”

“Is it a distraction?” Much as I enjoyed watching her, this was about her. I’d leave the room if it would help her loosen up and get the workout she wanted.

She wrapped one knee around the pole and swung in another circle. “Yes . . . a good one.” That was all I needed to hear, and as she dropped down to the floor and readied herself to leap on the pole again, I stood agog, mesmerized, and impressed.

After twenty minutes or so, Sarah lowered herself to the ground and mopped the sweat from her brow with the back of an arm. The look of satisfaction on her face was everything I wanted for her. It wasn’t just her skin that glowed. The relaxed, contented expression on her face rivaled the way she looked when she rode my cock.

But not quite.

“That was so. Goddamn. Sexy,” I growled. How had it taken me this long to come up with the pole idea?

A shadow of her more self-conscious side emerged. “That was amazing. I didn’t realize how much I missed it,” she said, still breathless from the exertion.

I tapped the pole. “I’m . . . never going to look at this fucking thing the same way again.”

“Good,” she laughed. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she leaned in for a sweaty kiss, and I took the opportunity to lick the salt from her neck. Her body gave an involuntary shiver as I ran my tongue down to the curve of her shoulder.

“Are you cold?” It was always freezing in the station.

“A bit.”

I grabbed my fire jacket off the hook and wrapped it around her. The thing fit her like a tent, but with her long, bare legs and wild hair, I’d never seen anyone look so gorgeous.

The next song on her playlist was something sexy by Bruno Mars. “Wanna dance?” She tipped her face up to mine.

I put a hand on the small of her back and pulled her in close. “This would kill my man cred if anyone saw us.”

“Don’t do a lot of dancing at the fire station?” She rested her cheek against my chest, and I inhaled the lavender and mint scent of her shampoo.

“Nope.” My dick was still rock hard, but I wanted to dance with her more than I wanted to push her against the hook and ladder truck and have my way with her. I wanted to romance her, which meant I’d fallen so far over the edge for her already that I might as well give in. I’d pick up the pieces later. I had no choice.

She seemed to agree, pressing tighter against me. “I’ve never danced in front of anyone before. But it got me kind of hot.”

“Kind of?”

“Okay, very.”

“That’s easily remedied.” I moved us across the floor until her back was up against the wall and lifted her so she could wrap her legs around my waist.

“Yes, please. You. Now.” Her voice came out in that raspy, needy tone I loved.

But then . . .

The station siren went off in an angry blare, and we had the misfortune of standing right beneath it. Sarah clung to me in shocked fear until she realized what it meant. Her look turned to dread.

“You think it’s the Grisley Fire?”

I nodded and gently lowered Sarah to the ground, kissing her on the cheek seconds before the incoming dispatch crackled with what was needed and where. She shimmied back into her clothes—I’d never seen anyone move so quickly, and I worked with guys trained in suiting up on a dime.

Guys who’d been hanging in the backhouse flooded in, jumping into their boots and throwing their arms into the sleeves of their coats.

“Pleasanton got called a couple hours ago. Everyone’s getting overtime,” I told Mitch when he came in with his jacket already on and his helmet in his hand. It was his habit to take it wherever he went instead of leaving it with his pants and boots. All the guys had their own quirks, and that was his.

Sarah saw the grim look on my face when I assessed the incoming messages. “I’m sorry, Damsel. I’ve gotta go.” She nodded, and I could tell she had questions and worries, but there was no time to answer them. I grabbed my keys from my pocket and handed them to her. “Here. Take my truck back to the house, and I’ll call you as soon as I can with a status report.”

“Okay. Be careful, fireman.” She tried to smile, but her face was too clouded with concern to be convincing. It broke my heart to leave her like that, which was a whole other problem I had no time to deal with.

I kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t worry.”

With that, she took the keys and headed for the side entrance where we’d come in. There was a faster way out, but I had to turn my back and get our guys into the rig and out the door. She’d find her way out.

From that second, I was on autopilot, running through the mental checklist of everything we needed to fight a brushfire and pinging the on-call guys to let them know they’d probably be needed. If we were getting the call before the weather patterns had shifted, it meant things were already looking bad.

Sarah didn’t need to know that.

And I couldn’t help feeling guilty about the fact that rushing into a danger zone still filled me with an adrenaline rush like no other. As soon as she was out of sight, my head cleared of all distractions, and I went through the checklist for the rig before we headed out. There was a reason I chose this profession, and so far, nothing else had provided the same high.

Well, until I met Sarah.