Fighting the Fire Page 7

  “You have great hair.” He started to reach his hand out but then dropped it back to rest on the table.

  “I got it from my mom. One of the only good things I remember about her. She had hair like mine, long and shiny. It takes a long time to dry,” Mia stated. “It must be the Indian blood. I can only assume since I don’t know anything about my family, other than the fact that we lived on a reservation in Eastern Washington—or Idaho.”

  “Have you ever tried to find your family?”

  “No. Why would anyone want me as part of their family?”

  Cy shook his head. “I told you before. Don’t get into the dysfunctional Family Feud game with me, you’ll lose. No more pity parties for you.”

  Mia loved the way he looked at her with care and concern. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She was destined to be alone, not wondering what kind of future she could have with the man who sat across the table from her. “If I had a pity party would you bake me a cake?” Mia shot back as she tried to make a joke.

  Cy barked out a laugh. “That’s good. I’d bake you that cake, and with the first bite, it would be so bad you’d never have another. What about the eggplant, has it sweated enough?” They watched as little beads of moisture rose on the tops of each slice.

  Chapter 7

  The men didn’t just eat the meal, they devoured it. Mia gave all the praise to Cy, though he knew they didn’t believe for one minute that Mia hadn’t done most of the cooking. Large piles of red smeared plates were stacked precariously next to the sink as Mia stood washing hot, soapy water across the last of the dishes with a rag.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Cy said, feeling guilty. “I’m sure the last thing you want to do before you go back to work and have to wash more dishes.”

  “I like water, remember?”

  “So do I, but not in a dishwashing kind of way.” Cy took the plate from her, dried it with a towel, and then placed it back in the cupboard. “I was thinking.” She shot him a look. “I do that a lot,” he replied. “It’s a habit of mine you’ll grow to love or hate…when we’re married.”

  Mia dropped the plate she was holding, splashing water on both of them. Her mouth gaped as she stared back at him. She wiped the excess water into the sink with her hand. He followed with the dishtowel to dry the puddle.

  “Just kidding. Anyway,” he continued. “I think that you’re getting better at controlling whatever that power is inside of you, but maybe we need a little help?”

  “We? There is no we. No.” Mia pleaded. “Please don’t tell anyone.” She jerked her hands from the water and reached for the towel to dry them.

  “People need to understand so they can help.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re not the one that has to go off to some science lab for freaks if the word gets out. I’m not having a ‘pity-party’ as you called it, I just need to protect myself. It’s a fact you’ll never understand.” Her voice dropped low as she said, “Don’t do this to me.” She backed away.

  “Mia. I just want to help.”

  Taking a chance, Cy pulled her hard against his chest, firmly laying his hand on her back to hold her in place. “I do understand.”

  At first, her body was rigid, but then she slowly melted against him, allowing herself to be pulled in.

  She bunched her hands on the front of his -T-shirt as she laid her head against his chest. He whispered against her hair, “You don’t need to be afraid. Before it was you alone, but now you have me. Let me try and help.”

  Mia tipped her head back and looked into his eyes as if searching for something she needed to see.

  Cy didn’t want to admit to himself that this woman in his arms was different from anyone he’d ever been with. His chest tight from the emotion, he paused to think of the right words to say, though they never seemed to come. “You’re right, I don’t know if there is we. It takes two people to decide that, but I do know that no one’s going to hurt you. I know this for a fact because first, they’d have to go through me. I would never let that happen, do you understand?”

  She made a sound between a sob and a laugh. “You’re not very scary you know.”

  “I can be. You’ve never seen anyone cross me.”

  “I still don’t believe you.” She stood on her toes and ran the side of her face along his jaw. Chills shot through him as he smoothed the cotton fabric of her skirt over the slope of her rear-end. Her eyes were like dark pools of melted chocolate, with long black lashes fanning out to accentuate their depth.

  “Okay,” she finally said. “I guess if you trust this person. I’ll see if she can help.”

  God, she was beautiful, the breath felt tight in his chest.

  An understanding crossed her face and she smiled shyly like she’d read his thoughts. His breath hitched as Mia rose and kissed him gently.

  If he lived to be a hundred, Cy knew he would never get tired of the feel of her mouth. Mia had an electrical charge inside of her, but right now he was the one burning up. She had a way of doing that to him with one glance, one smile, and definitely with one touch of her lips.

  He spoke the words into her open mouth as he nibbled her lip, “We’re both getting better at this. I can read your body, and you can control it.”

  His mouth came down on hers deepening the kiss and his tongue caressed her lower lip. His lips slid off her mouth to her cheek, then down her neck, Cy teased and tickled as he went. She was dissolving his composure.

  He was happy he had on jeans. The seams would burst from the erection held behind the zipper as their breaths quickened. Ever since Mia had arrived he’d been hard, he couldn’t help it. He had never wanted a woman as he wanted her. Cy pressed her back against the kitchen counter wanting to take more.

  “Get a room!” Mario laughed. “Is this man hurting you, ma’am? Do I need to call the police? I helped put away the silverware. Do I get a thank you like that?”

  Cy had been so focused on the sweet slide of Mia’s lips he hadn’t noticed Mario, Ernie, and Ben come back into the room.

  He cleared his throat and adjusted the front of his pants, hoping it wasn’t too obvious.

  Mario offered, “If I dry the dishes can I have a kiss?”

  Cy glanced over in time to see Mia wipe a quick hand across her mouth which was still deep pink from his kiss.

  “Back off,” he said in a dark tone, as he walked over to put the last of the forks and spoons in the drawer.

  “Cyril. You know the rules of the firehouse.” Mario lifted himself to sit on the countertop next to Mia and then shot her a wide grin.

  Jeez. Was he going to have to punch Mario right here in front of the guys? It would be worth it to get more grunt duty. Then Mia would have to come over and feel sorry for him. Cy weighed the odds.

  Mia arched a dark eyebrow. “Cyril? I hadn’t thought of your full name. I’m not sure you look like a Cyril.”

  “You look like a sigh, Cy.” Mario faked a swoon and put his hand up under his chin, batting his eyelashes.

  Ernie yanked Mario hard by the arm and pulled him off the counter till his feet hit the floor with a thump. “Cy’s gonna clock you, and I wouldn’t blame him. Stop hitting on his girl.”

  His girl? He couldn’t help but smile. The guys had sided with him? That was a first.

  The captain came in, poured himself another cup of coffee, and then sat at the end of the table opening the paper.

  His girl. Cy looked back toward Mia as she stretched on her toes to put the spices away in the cabinet. The thought was getting easier as he watched her tall, graceful body move through the kitchen.

  Mia noticed him watching her and gave a timid smile. A blush added color to her high cheekbones. “I like the name Cyril, it sounds old-fashioned.”

  Cy cleared his throat. “I was named after my grandfather.”

  Not looking up from the newspaper, West added, “He was a good man, your grandfather, you should be proud to carry his name. Unlike you
r father...the S.O.B.” He stopped and apologized, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that in front of your friend.”

  “It’s all right, Captain. Mia already knows what a great guy my father is.”

  West’s gaze was serious, but he went back to reading the paper.

  Cy continued, “Yeah. My grandfather was a great man. I wished he’d lived a little longer. It may have made growing up easier.”

  Ernie came over and slapped Cy hard on the shoulder which made him take a step forward to keep from falling. “But then we wouldn’t have had our little Cy guy around under our feet all the time. He always asked a million questions about how things worked,” Ernie said with a laugh. “Can you believe him hanging out here every day with this bunch? And then on top of that, he was crazy enough to become a fireman and stay with us? Now that’s a glutton for punishment.”

  “Cy guy,” Mia said as she wiped her hands on the towel. “I think I’ll start calling you that.”

  “Now, I prefer Cyril. At least the guys didn’t give me a nickname like Pudge or Stinky. One of those nicknames that sticks with you for the rest of your life, whether you want it or not.”

  “See, things could always be worse.”

  Cy smiled and gave her hand a quick squeeze before he let go. “That’s what I've been trying to tell you since the first day we met.”

  ****

  Mia and Cy stood in the driveway as the last of the sun faded to deep pink. The temperature was finally beginning to cool and a breeze had picked up.

  “Thanks again for coming to the station and helping with dinner. Now the guys are spoiled for life. I only hope I can remember half of the ingredients that went into the dish.”

  Mia laughed. “Half would be good. I’ll write them down and bring them the next time I see you.”

  Cy leaned against the engine and ran his hand up and over the cool, steel railing. “I love this time of night when the sunset hits off the chrome of the engine. It makes it glow orange.”

  Mia looked at the ground, scuffing her sandaled foot and kicked pebbles. “I’ll talk to the person you were telling me about if you think she could do us any good.”

  Cy instantly caught the fact that she’d said us. He smiled and reached for her.

  She shook her head. “Not right now. It’s bad. I don’t know why—except maybe the kiss you planted on me back in the kitchen.”

  “Ah yes, I remember it well.” The memories flashed through his mind like a firestorm.

  With her voice a little strained, she continued, “I want to find why it happens when there’s skin to skin contact.” She ran a hand across his chest. Cy pulled in a breath from her touch. “Maybe this person will be able to help. I don’t want to worry every time I touch you.”

  He wanted to pull Mia against him and kiss her until they both couldn’t breathe but knew he couldn’t. He raised a finger a fraction above her lips to silence her. “Shhhh. You don't need to say anything. I want that too, but I’m not going to leave because we can’t be physical. Give me credit.” He felt a snap when she kissed the tip of his finger with her soft lips.

  These days with Mia had been different from any relationship he’d ever had in the past. He’d been with other women, but before it had always been now, needing that quick sexual relief. That’s all it had been, quick and hot. Nothing more. There had to be more. He wanted more.

  Mia squeezed her hands closed. He could tell she was frustrated when she spoke in a whisper, “I want to kiss you goodnight. I can’t. I hate this.”

  “Stop beating yourself up. I’m a patient man, even if I can’t cook, I make up for it with my virtues. And that kiss you gave me back in the kitchen will hold me for a while.”

  Mia’s beautiful, bottomless gaze rose to meet his. She kissed her index finger again and placed it over his heart.

  This woman was going to kill him with just a look. Even through the cotton, he felt the electricity. She jerked her finger back and shook her head in disgust.

  “Are you sure that you’re going to be okay alone tonight?” He needed to know.

  She didn’t answer as she turned on her heels and quickly walked away. Cy felt the air grow cold where a second ago it had been warmed by her being there.

  The time Cy spent kissing her and then having to watch her walk away got harder, but it led to a rich fantasy life. He’d dreamed of a hundred different places where he could make love to Mia. He was happy she wasn’t a mind reader; she’d never talk to him again for being such a pervert. But he was a guy, and guys thought a lot about sex, right? What was wrong with that?

  Since she’d come into his life there had been no one else in those fantasies but her. In his waking hours and his dreams at night. It was always her.

  The obstacles between them only added to the anticipation and increased his need to be with her. It made him want to feel that forbidden, hot skin beneath the touch of his fingers and it was driving him mad.

  When they made love it wasn’t going to be something that either of them would forget.

  Cy paused and wondered if she fantasized about him? He was a firefighter after all. That should be enough to fuel some fantasies? Maybe he would bust in and save her from a burning building?

  Oh yeah, he’d done that...it hadn't turned out well. No fire, it would have to be something that would work for her. It looked like he had more time to think about his plan.

  ****

  Mia looked at the small clock radio on the dresser. The time flashed 9:50 in bright red blaring numbers. She’d been on her knees scrubbing for over two hours and had tried everything, but the odd colored opalescent circle around the bed wouldn’t come off. She’d even tried stronger chemicals from the kitchen upstairs but they’d only left her skin painful and raw and hadn’t removed the mark.

  “Hey. You down there?”

  It was Cy…early. She hated punctual men.

  “Damn. Damn. Double Damn.” She gave up and sat back on her heels pulling back her hair which was a disheveled mess. “Don’t come...” was all she got out.

  Cy rushed down by taking the stairs two at a time. His frantic face saying it all. “I smelled smoke. Are you -all right?” He covered the distance between them and stopped a few feet away. “Was there a fire last night” Fear tightened his handsome face as he fired questions. He dropped on his knees beside her.

  “I’m fine. It wasn’t a fire.” Mia snapped between clenched teeth. ‘What the hell do you want me to say?’ She yanked her shoulder out of his grasp. She stood and walked to the other side of the room. “Just fine, dandy. How about yourself?”

  He stayed on the floor, gazing from the cleaning brushes to the pail, and then brushed his hand over the concrete of the floor. “You told me last night your powers were bad. Shit. I should have listened. I should never have let you come back here alone.”

  “You’re blaming yourself? I’m the freak.”

  “You’re not a fr—”

  Mia cut him off, “I thought if I slept on the concrete. I tried to stay awake, but I was so tired.” She tried to be solid but heard her own voice break.

  “Did the blue aura come back?”

  “I’m not sure. I woke up and saw a flash, but it was dark. When I turned on the light, this mark was on the floor.”

  “It doesn’t look like it was made by a fire. Did Mickey come down?” Cy stood and walked over to her.

  “Everyone went home for the night. Thank God. What if I’d slept on the bed? It would have caught on fire, just like my house.” She choked on her tear-filled words. “Mickey’s such a nice man, and he’s helped me so much. It’s always just one mess after the other. I could have burned down his restaurant.”

  “Did you see flames? Are you sure it was a fire?”

  “It was the same as the night I burned down my house. I have to get out of here!”

  Cy slammed his fist down on the dresser, causing a small bottle of perfume to fall and shatter on the floor. He stared down at the broken glass and said in a low
tone, “What about you? When are you going to put yourself first? I have, damn it, and I can’t stand the thought that I can’t be here all the time to keep you safe.”

  “You can’t be around me twenty-four seven, in case I…combust.”

  “Are you sure the power inside you is the cause of fires? I was on my way here to tell you that I just spoke to the head fire investigator. They’re still examining the evidence, but they believe that the fire didn’t start in the bedroom.”

  -Mia felt her eyes widen. “That doesn’t make any sense. How else could it have happened?”

  “Don’t you see? If the fire started somewhere else in the house that night, then you weren’t responsible.”

  “I had to have caused it. I always mess up everything.”

  Cy pulled her against his body and soothed back her mussed hair. “What if it wasn’t your fault? What if this blue orb is something completely different?”

  Mia shook her head. “Take me to this person you know. Do you think she might be able to help?” She breathed in. He smelled like pine trees and soap as she tried to capture the smell, so she could remember it when he was gone. “I’m scared.”

  “You're scared?” Cy let out a short laugh. “Hell, you just took five years off my life when I came down the stairs and thought you’d been caught in another fire.” He (pulled) her hand up, and then raised it toward his lips, but stopped. “Oh, Mia...” His gaze dropped to her hands as his eyebrows knit in a grimace and led her toward the washbasin. “What were you trying to do? And what was that stuff you were using to clean, acid?”

  “Something I found in the cleaning closet upstairs.”

  Cy turned on the faucet, still holding her hands in his. Mia winced as the cool water washed over her cracked, blistered skin. “We have to get it off, or it will burn even more.”