Can't Help Falling in Love

“That can never happen again.” She shook her head, that hair he’d had his fingers buried in just seconds ago falling over her shoulders like crumpled silk. “Never.”

Gabe got off the bed and pulled on his boxers to give himself time to think before replying. Back in her apartment their discussion about staying away from each other made sense. Perfect sense.

But now...well, there sure as hell wasn’t anything perfect about keeping their distance.

After his jeans were back on, he turned to the beautiful woman watching him so warily and said, “Never’s an awfully long time. Especially after—” He gestured to the bed. “Seems to me instead of saying never we should be discussing things.”

The shock on her face was better than that wary fear. “What’s there to discuss?”

He wasn’t at all pleased to note that his name on her lips was no longer the almost-prayer it had been when she was coming beneath him. “Seems like there’s plenty, Megan.”

She all but flinched at the way he said her name, still a caress, as if they were still in bed together, rather than standing at opposite ends of the room throwing the word never around.

“No,” she said, her hands clutching even tighter at his shirt, “just because we—” This time she was the one looking at the bed. “Nothing has changed.”

“Everything has changed.” He didn’t want to have to push her like this, but he sure as hell didn’t like the way she was pushing him.

“Yes. Okay. Fine.” Each of the words was clipped as they fell from her kiss-swollen lips. “We had sex. And it was great, but—”

“More than great.”

“You win,” she replied in a hard voice, as if they were on opposite sides of a war, rather than in this together trying to figure out where to go from here. “It was more than great, but it doesn’t change anything. You’re still you and I’m still me. Which means that it can never, ever happen again.”

All she wanted was for him to agree. He could see that. And he’d promised her anything, just minutes ago when they were making love.

But how the hell could he agree to never?

“Tell me about her,” she suddenly asked. “About the victim you saved. The one you dated that it didn’t work out with. What was her name? What did she do for a living? What color was her hair?”

His surprise at her questions was tempered by the fact that he knew what she was doing: She was forcibly trying to remind him of his reasons to walk away from her. Probably before she reminded him of hers—of the husband who’d died in his dangerous job and left her and her daughter all alone.

“Kate. Teacher. Dark.”

Gabe watched her carefully as he answered her questions. For all that she was saying she wanted him out of her life, there was no doubt in his mind that she hated putting together a mental picture of his ex. Just as much as he hated to think of her in Summer’s father’s arms, more stupidly jealous of a dead man than ever now that he knew just how much warmth, how much passion, how much sweetness Megan had to give.

“What happened? How did you save her?”

“It was an apartment fire.”

“Like mine?”

He shook his head. “No. Not nearly as bad as yours.” But Kate had been crying, shaking, so scared that he’d pulled her into his arms and hadn’t let go of her until the ambulance arrived.

“How did you start dating?”

He didn’t want to tell her the truth. But his mother hadn’t raised him to be a liar. “She came by the station. To thank me.”

Megan flushed. “Of course she did. I should have guessed.”

“She was nothing like you.”

“Right,” she said in that same clipped voice, so at odds with its husky warmth when she was pleading with him to make love to her. “Strange how similar it all seems, though.” Her eyes were overly bright as she looked back at him. “Did she have a child, too?”

“No. She was young. Only twenty. Still in college.”

“Was she pretty?” She held up her hand. “No. Don’t answer that. Of course she was pretty.” She took a deep breath. “So, what happened?”

“We broke up.”

Just like that, the strong woman moved back to the forefront. “You told me, and I quote, ‘It never works out.’ Why not?”

“She was young. We both were.”

“Sure,” she said, “I believe that. But I’m pretty sure this whole firefighter–victim thing is bigger than just you and Kate and how young you were.” She looked like she’d tasted something rotten as she said his ex’s name. “Tell me exactly why being with a fire victim you’ve saved is such a bad situation. I want to hear why it never works out.”

Damn it, this was the problem with smart women. They knew how to box a guy into a corner.

“Do you know why I’m a firefighter?”

“Because you love to help people.” She paused a beat, then lifted her chin in a clear challenge. “And you love the thrill of danger, too.”

“Most people, once they learn what I do for a living, that’s all they see. The firefighter.” Damn it, he didn’t want to tell her this, not when he knew exactly what she was planning to do with the information. “When that moment where their life is on the line is the first time you meet—”

“It’s all they ever see.”