My brother and I live in a large colonial set back from the highway. We’re about ten minutes out of town, which gives us the peace and quiet we need. Our jobs are stressful enough without adding city noise into the mix. Not that our small town gets too rowdy. Well, except for Friday nights at Boomer’s Bar. Things can get crazy there. Jeff keeps an officer on duty in the parking lot because alcohol and hot heads don’t mix, and that bar is full of both.

“Here we are.” I follow the circular driveway up to the front door.

“You live here?” Her voice is full of amazement.

“Yep. It’s been in my family for over one hundred years.” I beam with pride. “We own a hundred acres, well back into the woods. And because we’re not in town, we don’t get a lot of random guests. You’ll be safe here.”

“It’s beautiful.” She steps out of the truck, eyes wide. A slow smile brightens her face. “This is so much better than the women’s shelter.”

“I thought you might like it. Wait until you see inside.”

I lay my hand on the small of her back as I usher her up the front steps. I don’t know what possessed me to touch her, but I’ve been wanting to do it from the moment I spotted her at the police station. Even with remnants of soot clinging to her hair, she’s stunning.

“How old is the house?” she asks.

“It was originally built in 1892. There was a fire in 1917, so the kitchen area is newer.”

“Over a hundred years old isn’t new.” She smirks.

“Tell that to my great-great granddad.”

“He’s over one hundred?”

“Yep, and he’ll never let you forget it.”

A soft giggle escapes her lips. It zings straight to my cock. God, it’s been so long since I’ve been with a woman. Work keeps me busy as hell, and when I’m not working, beer and football take up the rest of my time.

“I’ll make up a bed in one of the extra rooms on the second floor.”

“You don’t have to go to all that trouble. I can sleep on the couch.”

“No way.” I frown. “You’re our guest. I have plenty of sheets and towels. Another good thing about living with my brother—we share everything.” Except women, I silently added before kicking myself for even thinking about sleeping with her. I’m supposed to be protecting her, not tumbling her into my bed.

Still, the sizzling connection between us can’t be denied. There’s something there for sure, but I can’t tell if she feels it too. She probably only thinks of me as the fireman who saved her from a blaze, but I hope it’s more than just that. For the first time in years, I’m interested in a woman. This woman.

I shake my head. God, I’m an idiot. Her life is a complicated mess. She’s the last woman I should want to get mixed up with. The last thing I need is more drama in my life. After what happened with Penny, I swore off women. But Ella… shit. I can’t stop wanting her, and I don’t even know her.

“I’ll go make the bed,” I say.

“I’m not tired yet.”

“Can I get you something for dinner? Have you eaten anything today?”

“Just hospital food.”

“Yuck. I’ll see what I can whip up for you. Don’t get too excited though, I’m damn good at cooking frozen pizza, but that’s about it.”

“Pizza sounds good to me.”

“Want a beer too?”

“That sounds amazing.” Wonder fills her voice, as if a cold beer is the most magical thing in the world. I guess she’s not wrong. It can be a lifesaver at the end of a bad day, and she’s on day three of her latest hellish encounter with her ex.

I head down the hall toward the kitchen. My shoes squeak across polished tile in the kitchen. The maid stopped by earlier today. It’s a necessity more than an indulgence. By the time we get home from work, the last thing we want to do is clean a giant house.

“I hope you like pepperoni,” I say.

“Love it. This kitchen… It’s incredible.”

“My brother designed it.”

I look at it, really look at it, for the first time in years. Jeff had remodeled it three years ago, just weeks before Penny died. I wasn’t living here at the time, so I didn’t have any impute, but he nailed it.

In addition to a huge multi-burner gas stove, we have a double oven, a huge island with multiple electrical outlets, and cabinets for days. Most of them are empty. They might hold a few boxes of crackers and some chips, if we’re lucky. The one thing we do fight about is who ate the last of the chips. The blame could probably be evenly split, but neither of us wants to admit it.

“I could live in a kitchen like this,” she says with a sigh.

“Jeff told me you were living in Memphis before moving to Blues Town?” I punch in the temperature for a pizza without bothering to look at the box. I know it by heart.

“Yeah.” She slides onto a stool and starts playing with the ornamental place settings Jeff insists on keeping on the island. I don’t see the point, but he says it makes it feel like one of those homes you see in magazines. I couldn’t care less, but whatever. If he wants this place to look like it belongs in Home and Garden, then go for it. It’s no skin off my teeth.

“How long did you live in Memphis?” I open the fridge and grab two bottles of craft beer.

“My whole life.” She takes a bottle. “Thank you.”

“You grew up there?” I join her on the stool next to hers. I could have sat anywhere else, but I need to be closer to her. Not just to stare at her perfect heart-shaped face, but because I want to be by her side. I don’t know. It’s a weird urge, but I’m unable to deny it.

“Born and raised. What about you?”

“I grew up in Austin. Lived there until three years ago.” I avert my gaze and take a long swig of beer.

“Why did you move?”

Shit, if she only knew how loaded that question was.

“I needed a change of pace. My brother was working at the police station out here. He got me a job with the fire department. He’s friends with the chief.” I leave out the fact that he had to drag me out of the bottom of a bottle and force me to be sober long enough to get through training.

“Were you a fireman back in Austin?”

“No. I specialized in laying pipe.” The edge of my mouth quirks.

Before I met Penny, I laid all kinds of pipe around Austin. My friends had nicknamed me, “The Stallion”. It was a ridiculous name, but it stuck. Penny changed all that. From the moment I met her, I never looked at another woman. Even after losing her, I haven’t looked at another woman, until now.

“It sounds like you made a big change,” she says.

Observant as hell, this one. I’ll have to be careful around her. I haven’t talked to anyone about the night Penny died, so I’m not about to open up to a complete stranger.

The preheating alert dings. Grateful for the distraction, I get up to put the pizza in the oven. When I return to my seat, I decide to push her a bit more.

“How long were you married?”

“Five years.” Her eyes glass over. “I was twenty years old. I thought I knew everything.”

“At that age, the world hasn’t broken you yet. You don’t realize that people aren’t always who they pretend to be.”

“God, isn’t that the truth?” She finishes her beer. “Can I have another?”

“Sure.” I retrieve one and hand it to her. “So, five years… When did things start going south?”

“Before we got married.” Bitterness mars her features. “I should have seen all the red flags.”

“If you’ve never been in that kind of experience before, you wouldn’t even know what to look for.” I’m trying to comfort her, but she’s too busy reliving the past. I can see it in her eyes.

“When we were dating, he started commenting on what I wore. He didn’t like any of my friends. He wanted me all to himself because he loved me so much.”

“That’s how they get started.”

“You know about abusers?” She sits up.

“Just what I see when I’m working. Most of the time we get called out, it’s not for fires. It’s for medical emergencies. Lots of heart attacks, but also lots of domestic violence. I’ve heard things over the years. I never could understand why women stayed, so I read up on it.”

“You don’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late.”

“It’s never too late to leave.” I put my hand over hers. She slides her hand into mine. The soft friction is enough to stoke the fire burning inside. It’s not lust. It’s something more. I want to protect her.

“I know. The night I left, he tried to kill me. He choked me until I passed out. It’s a miracle I’m still alive.” Her grip on my hand tightens. “I was so scared. I didn’t think anyone would help me, but my parents did.”

“Why aren’t you staying with them?” I ask gently.

“I tried. He found me there. He beat my father and terrorized my mother. He was lying in wait when I got home from work. I barely escaped.”

“And the cops couldn’t help?”

“They said he had an alibi.”

“But your parents were witnesses.”

“He told the cops that I was just trying to throw him in jail so that I could take the house. He called it his house, but it was ours. I didn’t want his stupid house. I have nothing but terrible memories of that place. He can have it.”

“So, nothing happened. The police did nothing?”

“That’s right.” More than a hint of sarcasm infuses her tone. “Not a damn thing. So, you can understand why I’m skeptical of your brother’s instance that they’ll be able to stop him. No offense, but if Memphis police couldn’t stop him, how is a small-town cop going to do it?”

I should be offended on my brother’s behalf, but I’m not. I can see the pain she’s in. She’s just lashing out. I understand the need all too well.

The buzzer sounds. I pull a piping hot pizza from the oven.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” she mumbles.

“You’re hurting. It’s okay to vent.”

“I just want it to stop. How long will it take the crime lab to get any results?”

“A few weeks. It’s not like TV. It won’t happen overnight.”

Her bottom lip trembles. I set down the pizza cutter and circle around the island. Without thinking, I pull her into my arms. I gently massage the back of her head while she trembles.

“I’m so tired.”

“Do you want to go to sleep now? I can wrap up the pizza.” I press my face into her hair. The scent of smoke overwhelms me. “How about a shower? Or a hot bath?”

“A bath.” She pulls back and sniffs. “Can I take pizza with me?”

“Of course.” I smile and set several slices on a plate. “The bathroom’s upstairs.”

She silently follows me up the stairs. I show her the large claw-footed tub.

“If you need anything, my room’s right next to yours. Just knock.”

“Thank you.” She sets the plate down on the sink and moves back into my arms. Her face presses against my chest. “I know we just met, but you make me feel safe.”

“I’ll take care of you until my brother catches your ex.” I trace the edge of her cheek with the backs of my fingers. My thumb glides across her bottom lip. Her pupils dilate. Her breath quickens. I swallow hard.

Instead of moving away from me, she leans into me. She’s too close and far too tempting. The desire to kiss her delectable lips overwhelms me. I dip my head slightly, moving slowly, giving her plenty of time to push me back or walk away. I’d never take anything from her that she isn’t willing to give.

When our lips meet, her soft moan blows across my chin. She sinks her fingers into my hair and draws me closer. My hands slide around her waist. I pull her tight against me. I want her to feel every inch of the need she’s created in me. I haven’t been this hard in years.

I quickly shove aside that thought. Anytime I’m drawn back into the past, I’m dropped into a world of pain. Right here, with Ella, there’s nothing but pleasure.

Her lips move over mine. Softly, tentatively, before becoming more demanding. I follow her lead, letting her set a luxurious pace. When she deepens the kiss, I slide my tongue between her parted lips. We melt together into a passionate embrace that goes far beyond simple lust. There’s a need burning inside both of us that can only be met one way.

I’m stripping her clothes before I realize I’m doing it. I pull back and look into the storm brewing in her eyes. She grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it overhead. It hits the floor with a whisper of sound.

My hands slide up from her waist to cup her white lace-covered breasts. Her bra can’t contain her heat or her hard nipples, which poke and strain against the fabric. I fumble with the clasp behind her back.

Once revealed, her breasts are perfection. Creamy skin fills my rough palms. I groan and bend to take one plump nipple between my lips. She gasps and shivers. Her hands drag my shirt over my head. I break away only long enough to let her strip it away.

When I return to kissing her, she tosses her head back. Gloriously silky blonde hair trails down her back. From this position, I can see every angle of her perfect curves in the mirror.

I lavish her nipples with silky kisses before licking the tips until she’s squirming. We still have far too many clothes on, so I unbutton her jeans. She wriggles out of them, leaving her body on display. I’m destroyed by her beauty. The curve of her hips, the softness of her thighs, the way her white, lacy panties cling to her damp folds—it’s madness. I have to have her.

She strips my jeans and boxers before shimmying out of her panties. I drop to my knees. I hold the backs of her thighs as I spread feathery kisses up the insides of her thighs. She backs into the shower where a long stone bench runs the length of the wall.

When she sits on it and spreads for me, I groan. I don’t know how we went from sharing pizza and beer to this, but I’m not about to question it. We both need this, and if she wants it, I’m not going to turn her away.