Chapter Two
Caitlin glared at the egotistical jerk with his stereotypical hero-complex, smirking at her because she’d been scared by a bridge.
Okay, so maybe his little trick deserved a smirk, but he was a first responder. Weren’t they supposed to be above reproach and maybe not staring at her boobs?
He might rank as some kind of wizard for his ability to get her off that death span without her realizing it, but that didn’t earn him the right to ogle her. Not even with those amazing whatever-color-they-were eyes. She bounced back and forth between hazel and chocolate before realizing she really didn’t—shouldn’t—care, and then wanted to kick herself for getting lost in his irises. But she could only see so much square jaw with the helmet in place, and height and broad shoulders meant nothing to a girl who couldn’t get onto a barstool without a boost. In short, he had nothing to offer her, so her rampaging ovaries could shut the hell up.
Or at least find someone who hadn’t enjoyed a front row seat to the most embarrassing moment of her life. “I’m fine,” she said, lifting her chin. “Thanks for your help.”
Maybe he’d go away and take his entire fleet of flashing lights with him. Now that she wasn’t in danger of falling in and drowning, she dared a look at the river. Yep, lights on the boat, too. And a crowd had gathered, some watching and holding up phones—great—with the rest staring at their devices in their hands, probably telling the whole world what they’d witnessed. Traffic jammed the business district behind the lane closures, and she imagined the other side looked the same. A couple of blocks down, she could just see the signage hanging from the tavern-style wrought iron arm that poked from the front of her bookstore.
If she could only get there and hide.
It was all she could think of.
Behind the smirking firefighter, an ambulance eased toward them. It, too, blasted light, but at least the siren remained silent. She didn’t need a ride—if anything, she needed to kick Mr. Hot and Bothering Her in the shin—but if she left in the ambulance, at least no one would see her walk directly to her store. Maybe she could avoid being that woman for a few more minutes, as if anyone could outrun the gossip of a thousand flashing lights and the dead stop of morning traffic.
Her fresh start was suddenly about as palatable as a gulp of lumpy milk.
Captain Ego glanced toward the guy who hopped from the ambulance parked a few feet away.
“Everything okay, Lieutenant?” the guy asked.
Okay, so Lieutenant Ego. She stood corrected. And she didn’t need him to answer for her. “I’m fine,” she said. “I had a moment on the bridge. It’s over.”
Ambulance Guy’s brow rose. “If you need resources—”
“I’ll make sure she knows who to talk to,” Lieutenant Ego cut in.
She hated both their pitying tones. Hands on hips, she fired back, “I don’t need resources. I’m afraid of the water. Deep, swirling, suck-you-under-until-you-die water.”
Both men stared.
Oops. She hadn’t planned on including the confession, and that left her flustered and seriously considering making a break for the mountains that backlit the city. Morning sun still dusted the peaks, where she knew, geographically speaking, there probably weren’t raging rivers. Even the mighty Colorado started as droplets up there. She could handle that. No flash floods, no terrifying moments trapped with her family in a truck swept away by dark churning water.
Nope. Not thinking about that.
The men exchanged glances like she’d just admitted to never having bathed. Lieutenant Ego was the one to speak. “There’s no water up here, ma’am.”
His voice sounded funny, like he was trying to choke back laughter.
“I’m afraid of the water under the bridge,” she clarified. And also heights, apparently, but no need to give them anything else to ridicule. “Either way, not going over the side, so you can stand down. With my thanks and apologies for disrupting your morning.”
“Yes ma’am,” Ambulance Guy finally said, backing off with a nod. But not before his eyes cut briefly, blatantly to her chest.
What was with this place? She scowled.
“You missed a button,” Lieutenant Ego offered helpfully.
She looked down at her shirt, saw the gaping hole, and snatched the fabric back together. “I appreciate your concern,” she said through her teeth. “If we could all go our separate ways now, that would be great.”
Ego Man reached into his jacket to dig through his pockets, shoving aside enough of the heavy gear to reveal some serious heat beneath those layers. Flat abs and a chest that strained at the dark blue T-shirt he wore underneath.
Annoyed, she blew at the hair that whipped her face. Double standards much? But that wasn’t even the problem. The problem was the surge of attraction that hit, and he was so not her type. Not that she had much of one. Her singular goal in dating was to avoid the overbearing men she seemed to attract back home. Showing up in a new town for a fresh start only to have her loins swoon over Mr. Overbearing himself was failure personified.
He removed his helmet and handed her the card he’d retrieved from his jacket. Lt. Shane Hendricks. Her fingers tingled where they’d brushed against his. “9-1-1 won’t do the trick?” she asked.
His gaze tipped lazily from where he’d zeroed in on that tremble of her hand—surely he hadn’t missed that—to her eyes. “This way’s a bit more direct and won’t bring the city to a grinding halt.”
She legitimately blushed when he uttered the word grinding. Probably innocently—maybe not—but regardless of how he meant it, her face blazed red with her interpretation. The hitch in his smile suggested he noticed. His eyes seemed darker now, a shade richer than her favorite mocha. Her knees actually weakened, like she was some dopey teenager and not a grown-ass woman.
One who needed a lieutenant in a shining fire truck to get her off a bridge.
With the entire city to witness it.
But it wasn’t the city that bothered her. It was a certain sex-on-a-stick firefighter who had the nerve to undress her with her eyes.
And her own traitorous body for responding.