Chapter Five
“So that’s why I always loved that movie.”
Cara furrowed her brow. She was about to ask, “What movie?” then clamped her lips shut when she realized she’d be revealing that she hadn’t heard a word Joe had said for the last few minutes. Instead, she stabbed her fork enthusiastically at a piece of romaine in her Caesar salad and smiled. “Absolutely. I feel the same.”
He crinkled his nose. “Really? I don’t meet a lot of women who love Full Metal Jacket, especially that scene with the drill sergeant.”
Oh shoot. Was that what he’d been waxing on about? Well, thank heavens she’d tuned it out because he was spot on. There was no love lost between Cara and violent scenes in films. They weren’t her cup of tea at all. Give her a comedy with some slapstick humor, or a good old-fashioned spy movie any day. However, she couldn’t let on that she had been drifting off, her damn thoughts stuck like an old record on repeat, playing Ever since you came back last year, I can’t get you out of my head.
“No, it’s great. Love that movie,” she said, widening her eyes and feigning excitement as she speared a crouton.
“We should go see it, then. There’s a showing at a theater in San Francisco in a few weeks. Part of a Kubrik retrospective,” Joe said as he held up his fork to dive into his steak. A sandy blond, with green eyes and a trim build, Joe was as nice and as sweet as they came. So Cara slapped on her blinders and gave her full attention to the man across the table from her at the bistro in Sonoma, where they were having dinner courtesy of Kaitlyn’s matchmaking.
“Tell me more about the furniture you build, Joe. Are you like Magic Mike?” she asked, as she attempted to reclaim the conversation from the flotsam and jetsam of her driftwood brain.
“You mean am I a stripper?” he asked, shooting her a quizzical look.
“Magic Mike was stripping to try to support his dream to make custom furniture,” she explained.
He winked. “Gotcha. So did you want to see me strip?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Because I’m happy to call for the check if you do.”
Her cheeks flushed red. She quickly tried to redirect their chatter again. “That’s okay. I’m pretty hungry,” she said, digging her fork into her salad for another bite, as if to prove her famished point.
“Do you want to work up an appetite first, before I strip?”
She set down her fork and shot him a sharp glare. Enough was enough. “I was only teasing.”
“I know,” he said softly, a note of contrition in his tone. “I’m sorry. So was I. I would never think you’d want a striptease on a first date. Kaitlyn said you had a great sense of humor so I was playing along, and I pushed it too far.”
Her shoulders sank. Now she was the heel. She waved a hand as if she could rid them both of the awkward detour. “Don’t apologize. I started a lame joke. Anyway, I’m glad Kaitlyn connected us. I’m having a nice time chatting with you.”
She flashed a smile. Fake it ’til you make it, she told herself. Joe was great. Truly great. He deserved her A game.
“Me, too. You’re fun and pretty and I’m enjoying getting to know you,” he said, as he clasped his hand over hers on the table. It felt…nice. Warm. Pleasant.
Once they got past the first-date jitters, Joe really did have a good sense of humor. She had to give him some points for going along with her goofy comments. He was brimming with potential. She simply had to zero in on the present, not on the memories of the other night that still spun wildly in the front of her mind, zipping through her bloodstream on a hot trail of desire.
“Tell me more about you, Cara,” he said.
I’m almost thirty, I like dancing, both alone and with others, and I sing off-key in the shower, especially to Taylor Swift, Jane Black, and old Madonna tunes. I like to cook, to exercise, to volunteer at the local dog shelter, and my greatest joy lies in teaching animals to have better relationships with the people they live with.
Oh, and there’s one more teeny, tiny thing you need to know about me. It’s my Achilles’ heel when it comes to my stalled romantic life. Did I happen to mention that I’m hung up on someone else, and I simply can’t get him out of my system?
Later, Joe walked her to her car and opened the door. “I’d love to see you again, Cara. From what Kaitlyn told me, you and I are very similar and want a lot of the same things in life. I’ve got some business travel for a conference coming up, but would it be all right if I called you when I return?”
Damn. He was polite, too.
“Of course,” she said. Maybe by then, she wouldn’t be thinking about that other man. Maybe by then, she could give Joe a chance for real. He had so much promise, and by all measures, he seemed a perfect fit for Cara’s plans for her heart.
…
Henry wagged his tail and sat perfectly at Travis’s mother’s feet, his mouth hanging open, waiting for something delicious to drop into it, like a piece of a hot dog or hamburger that Robert was grilling on the porch.
“Mom, have you been giving Henry treats when you watch him?” Travis asked as he dropped off his dog for the next twenty-four hours that he’d be on shift. If it weren’t for his mom’s offer to take care of Henry while he worked at the firehouse, Travis would never have been able to adopt the dog in the first place. A few months ago, when he’d stopped by to repair a broken pipe under the sink, he’d mentioned offhand that he’d love to get a dog if only he didn’t have to be away for such long shifts.
He hadn’t been fishing for a sitter. But she leaped at the chance, insisting on taking care of a dog when he worked.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Of course not. He simply wants to please me,” she said, then winked at the dog and scooped him up in her arms. Henry rubbed his head against her and shot her that puppy dog look. She shooed Travis to the front door. “Be on your way. I need to spend the next twenty-four hours doting on this little boy.”
Travis’s stepdad Robert closed the screen door behind him, stepping inside the house briefly to say hello. He sighed heavily at the sight of his wife nuzzling the puppy. “That little guy has her wrapped around his paw.”
Travis laughed. “Yeah. He’s a chick magnet.”
Robert tipped his forehead to the lovey-dovey pair. “You should bring him on stage with you at the fireman’s auction. You’d surely win.”
His mom’s eyes sparkled and she nodded. “Oh that’s a great idea! Do that, Travis. You can finally break your Susan Lucci streak.”
Travis rolled his eyes. He’d lost out on first prize for three years running in the California Bachelor Fireman’s Auction, a fundraising event for volunteer fire departments around the state. “Thanks again for reminding me.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll tutor you on winning. Bookstore owners have all the right moves with the ladies,” Robert said, flexing his biceps and preening as he posed to the left with an arm pump, then to the right, to show off his guns.
Travis laughed. Robert wasn’t a beefy guy at all. Nor was he handy around the house, hence Travis’s regular appearances to fix anything that broke. Robert was, however, an extremely good guy, and he also didn’t risk his life every day, which helped his appeal in the eyes of his mother after losing Travis’ firefighter dad to a blaze long ago.
“Thanks again for watching Henry, Mom. I need to take off for the firehouse,”
“Be safe. Hope you have a quiet shift,” his mother said, clasping her hand on her heart. She worried about him every day.
“I will, Mom. I’m always safe.”
He dropped a kiss on her forehead and said good-bye, stopping briefly to linger in the hallway, where the wall was lined with family photos. An old wedding picture of his parents from years ago, his dad in his dress uniform and his mom in white. A shot of his dad pushing him on a swing. An image of Travis standing next to his father at the river, the two of them fishing. Then there were the blank years—no photos captured for some time, until he was older, finishing high school. Travis missed his dad, but he also missed that time with his mom. It was as if she’d been underwater then, and those years that followed his father’s death were the markers in his life. They were the proof, day after day, year after year, of how love could truly break a heart.
His family was hollow, his youth a black hole until he finished high school and his mom emerged from the sadness. He tracked the photos of his senior year. A few football shots as he played wide receiver, a picture of him dealing cards with some of the guys at the firehouse who’d looked out for him. At the end of the wall, a photo of him and Cara snagged his attention—the proverbial prom shot—him in a tux, her in a light blue dress with slim straps, his arm wrapped around her waist, both of them smiling for the camera.
A memory slipped past him: a reel of the two of them dancing under silver disco balls that spun from the ballroom ceiling at the local hotel where prom was held. She’d always loved dancing; she was a free spirit when music played, and she moved as if the notes truly inhabited her. She’d sung along to the faster numbers, then pulled him in close for the slower ones.
Later that night, they’d taken off, leaving the rest of the decked out seniors in a swirl of dust. But not for a hotel room, or one of their homes. They camped out at the end of Miner’s Road by the river, in a tent, with a radio playing some of their favorite music as he spent the night with her under the stars. He peered at the photo, as if the image had tugged his emotions back in time, too. He’d been crazy about her when they were younger, his heart beating fast just from being near her.
He scoffed at the memory, shoving it away. He was happy with her then, but that was because they were teenagers. They had a natural expiration date because of their age and their plans. They were heading off to college at opposite ends of the state. They didn’t make any silly promises of forever because they both knew it simply wasn’t possible.
Not then. Not now.
Being crazy for someone was a recipe for trouble. Besides, a serious relationship didn’t suit his lifestyle. He had his work, he had the firehouse, and he had a dog now. He didn’t need the problems that some kind of crazy longing for a woman would bring to his life.
He tapped his knuckles on the wall, as if he was saying good-bye to those kinds of feelings, then took off for the firehouse a mile away. He was an hour early for his shift, but that was the plan.
It was time for Smith to pay up. True, Travis hadn’t nabbed any additional days of car washing, as he would have if he’d won Smith’s “get her to go home with you” challenge. But he’d landed the lip lock at the club, and since she’d made it damn clear she didn’t intend to ever do a thing with him again, he was going to enjoy all he had—his clean ride.
“Be sure to make the hubcap sparkle,” he shouted as Smith set to work on the tires.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Watch it, or I’ll make some bet you can’t resist over how badly you’ll lose the fireman’s auction. Especially since you’re one of the few single guys left to enter.”
“No way am I losing this year. No fucking way,” Travis said. He wasn’t simply trying to win for male pride. He had a more important goal in mind this year, and he desperately wanted to meet it.
…
Twenty-four hours later, he finished his shift. As was their habit, he and his buddy Jackson stopped at Becker’s bar, The Panting Dog, on the way home. Travis couldn’t resist the burger special, complete with extra jalapenos and hot sauce.
“Man, I am looking forward to crashing when I get home,” Jackson said as he pushed open the door of the bustling bar.
“Same here. Nothing like a good night’s sleep after a long shift,” he said, because it had been a busy one, with several first responder calls.
As the door swung shut behind them, Travis scanned the crowded eatery, saying hello to a few familiar faces—the woman who ran his favorite coffee shop, McDoodle’s, as well as a cop he knew well, Johnny. Then, he spotted a ponytail he’d recognize anywhere. Cara was perched on a stool at the counter, chatting with his sister as they both nibbled on an appetizer of hummus and carrots.
“I’ll join you in a second,” he said to Jackson, who’d snagged a table that had just been vacated near the window.
He walked over to the women and said hello. “How are you ladies doing tonight?”
“Ladies?” Megan asked, arching an eyebrow. “Sounds like you’re talking about Mom. We’re no ladies.”
She elbowed Cara, and both of them laughed.
He rolled his eyes. “Gals? You prefer gals?”
“We prefer hot, smart, gorgeous women,” Cara said, chiming in.
He couldn’t agree more, but he wasn’t going to compliment the woman he wanted to fuck in the same breath that he complimented his sister, so he moved on. “Anyway, what’s going on?” he asked Megan, but his gaze drifted to Cara, and her short skirt, and those bare legs. His mind instantly returned to the club, and he could recall perfectly how she’d felt in his hands, and how sexy she’d sounded as she chased her pleasure. He shifted behind the stool to hide the evidence of his quick arousal.
Down boy.
“That’s great,” he said when Megan finished, though he had no clue what she’d just told him.
“So I’d better head home. I have a new client coming in tomorrow morning for a heart and arrow tattoo, and I need to finish the sketch work,” Megan added. Ah, she’d been talking about work. Megan had recently opened Hidden Oaks’ first tattoo parlor, Paint My Body, and she’d been quickly growing her business.
“I need to head out, too,” Cara said, reaching into her purse to grab some cash. “I’ll take care of the bill.”
Megan laughed and pressed her hand on top of Cara’s. “Stop it. You know Becker won’t let me pay. You came in with me, so it’s on the house.”
“I’ll leave a generous tip, then,” Cara said as she dipped her hand into her purse.
Travis fished some greenbacks from his wallet. He beat Cara to the punch, reaching between the women to lay the money on the counter. “Tip’s on me.”
“Thank you, Travis,” Cara said, and dropped her hand to his arm, squeezing it. She’d done that before. It was her gesture, her way of saying she appreciated something, and even that small touch turned him on. Being so near to her was dangerous, especially since she’d laid down the law the other day. But he couldn’t seem to resist. She was to him what peanut butter was to his dog. “Oh, and I wanted to tell you, for Henry’s lessons, I think he could benefit from a Martingale collar,” she added.
“What’s that?”
“Do you have a second? I have one in my car. I’ll show you.”
“Sure,” he said, and as Megan excused herself to say good-bye to Becker, Travis told Jackson he’d join him in a minute.
He followed Cara outside to her car. His eyes strayed to the curves of her ass, so damn tantalizing. Next, her bare legs. God bless summer, and the skin women showed in the warmer months. Her legs were toned and strong, perfect for wrapping around his waist as he drove into her.
He inhaled sharply, trying hard to rewire his brain when he was near her.
Hard being the operative word.
She craned her neck to look up at the dark blanket of night. “I love how clear the sky is here. You can see all the stars,” she said, pointing as they walked.
Stars. That would definitely take his mind off his hard-on. “Yeah, I think that’s the green dipper right there,” he said, deadpan, squinting as if he were studying the twinkling lights against the inky backdrop of night.
“Green dipper?” she asked.
He stroked his chin. “Isn’t that what it’s called? Or is it the jalapeno dipper nowadays?” he offered up, because he had jalapenos on his mind.
She laughed, then quickly played long. “Actually, it’s the Nacho Dipper. It was renamed recently.”
“And over there,” he said, reaching his arm up high, in the direction of three bright stars in a line, “that’s Orion’s Suspenders.”
She pointed at a shining star. “And isn’t that Cleopatra right by the Jalapeno Dipper?”
He patted her back, as if he were proud of her. “You are a damn fine astronomer, Cara,” he said as they reached her car, and she flashed him a wide smile.
“You are very clever,” she said as she unlocked the front door and stretched across the seat to grab something.
There went his focus-on-the-pretty-stars-in-the-sky plan. Like that, back bent, ponytail spilling over her shoulder, she was in a perfect position for him to take her. To hike up that skirt, learn what color panties she had on tonight, and then tear them off.
She turned around and dropped a dog collar into his hand. “There. Something like this will help him learn all his new tricks faster. Take this to the pet store and get one in his size.”
With the speed of a racecar driver, she said a quick good-bye and drove off into the night, leaving him with a hard-on and a dog collar.
As he headed back into The Panting Dog, it occurred to him that both man and dog would need to learn some new tricks. But, he realized, new tricks might be the perfect way to win the fireman’s auction.
He’d just need some help from Cara.