For the Love of a Fireman. Vonnie Davis
too close to her past experiences with men and she didn’t like it. “Look, we close soon. If you want toys for your dogs, you’d better hurry.”
“True that. Quitting time waits for no man.” Barclay sauntered off in the direction she’d indicated for pet products, shooting the lowest of blows over his shoulder. “Double Chocolate Sin pie, Miss Molly. How much you wanna bet it’s sinfully rich?”
“I hate chocolate, bucko.” Liar.
His laughter, rich and deep, bounced off the walls. “The name’s Barclay. Don’t forget it.”
As much as she wanted to fire back a volley of putdowns, she didn’t want to give this arrogant fireman the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to her. No doubt he flirted with every cashier and waitress he came across.
Which was why she didn’t want to tell him she worked the early morning shift at White Sands as a waitress. No need to give him any encouragement. So what if he made her feminine parts sit up and beg for buttermilk, as her dad was known to say? Really, she had no right to enjoy their banter, even for one brief interlude, especially with her life so unstable. Besides, she needed to get back to the condo her dad hated and see how he was doing.
Still, how many men would come out this time of night to get something for their dogs? She sniggered and shook her head. Douches of all things. When she thought about it, his devotion to his pets was kind of sexy. She slapped a hand over her eyes. Enough. Men could be heartless creatures beneath the jovial, often gentle, façade.
She’d be better off praying for immunity from handsome men, like the one who charged into the drug store minutes earlier with vibrant sea green eyes, hair the color of corn silk and deep dimples when he smiled. Or wide calloused hands that could do wicked things to a woman’s body while she inhaled his lime and ginger cologne. Erotic visions steamed a sensual path through her mind, and she shook her head to clear the thoughts.
After her shift was over, Molly hurried up the street toward the tiny condo in an older building on a side street across the road from the beach. Normally she and her dad stayed at Verne’s Cabins on the beach side of Gulf Boulevard, but the place was closed for renovations this year. Last February, when her little family made their annual trek here, the cabin they rented had been nearly uninhabitable. Still, her mother loved those little beach bungalows. It almost seemed fitting their first trip without Mom would be to a different section of the gulf side community she so loved.
A dagger of lightning ripped through the night sky before thunder bumped the ragged edges together again. Drops of rain the size of grapes pelted her head and shoulders, and she yanked up the hood of her jacket as she started a slow jog from the small strip mall along the main drag. Three more blocks and she’d be at their temporary home.
If only she could convince her dad to sell the house in Colorado and move here to the year-round warmth. The change in weather would help his arthritis and with her job back home, a web design business, she could work anywhere. She loved this little community.
Every winter, her heart yearned to return here where she could listen to the waves and relax. Unfortunately this trip, with her dad’s mental confusion coming and going, there was little relaxation to be had. She had to find quick work in order to provide for groceries, personal necessities and her dad’s medicines. Buying a new computer strong enough to handle all the graphics she used in her business had slapped her credit card balance pretty hard. Luckily, restaurants and some stores were always hiring, or so it seemed.
What remained on her credit card balance, she had to keep to cover parking at the airport, gas, food and lodging for their return trip home. Only, home was the last place she wanted to go. She did not want to return to Breckenridge and the cold empty house without her mother to warm it with her laughter and love—or to Wade.
As the thought came into her head, she noticed a dark SUV, the model of her ex-fiancé’s, was parked along the street, setting her heart to beat double-time. She squinted in the rain, trying to read the state on the mud-covered license plate. Although this area of the charming beach town was somewhat dark, a convenience store and the White Sands Diner illuminated the end of the street. Was Barclay there, eating his pie? Not that she planned on joining him, but there was a level of curiosity as to whether he’d really intended to spend time with her.
One more block before she made the turn to the narrow street that housed the condo building. Another clap of lightning brightened the sky. Her eyes struggled to adapt to the change in luminosity before darkness blanketed her vision.
A car door slammed and footsteps pounded the pavement behind her, and she looked over her shoulder. Dear Lord, it was Wade! He ran for her. Her pace picked up in time with her alarmed heart rate.
Because she was distracted, her toe caught on the uneven pavement, and she wheeled through the air. Cement smacked her face, and she bit her tongue. Stars exploded inside her head and something warm ran over her lips. Pain throbbed all over.
Suddenly, Wade jerked her arms behind her and wrapped rope around her wrists as if she were a calf in a rodeo. He kicked her twice in the side before his hands roughly snatched her to her feet. A hard jerk on the rope yanked her to his chest. “Didn’t think I’d find ya, did ya, Bitch? No one walks away from me.”
She stomped on his foot with the heel of her sandal. His fist made contact with her face. Pain and stars exploded once more. She collapsed onto the sidewalk again, darkness creeping over her vision like the blanket of night being pulled over her head.
“How about you get your fat ass back to Breckenridge where you belong, Molly? I told you screwing Katlynn was just one last fling before the wedding. I don’t see why that got you so all fired mad.”
Barclay smirked at the three pieces of pie gracing the table before him at a booth in the nearly deserted diner. He hoped the sweet treats would be enough incentive to draw Molly in for coffee and conversation. By now, he should be home, bathing three dogs reeking with skunk spray. Since none of his canine girls could tell time, surely he could take fifteen or twenty minutes for himself to chit-chat with Molly—and maybe ask her on a date.
He stared out the window at the end of the table, his mind snagged on the sexy-as-hell beauty spot above the corner of her mouth. What he wouldn’t give to touch it with the tip of his tongue just before he captured her lips with his. Especially her desirable, full bottom lip that for some inane reason kept drawing his eye. Adding to her sensual allure was the fact she was a shade plump all over, just the way he liked his women—softness to his hardness. Her ponytail, the color of raven’s wings, made his fingers itch to remove the band holding it in place and run his fingers through those silky-looking tresses. It had been a long time since a woman attracted him like Molly. Even so, desire had to take a backseat to finding answers.
Something was off about her.
For one thing, she seemed jumpy. For another, she exhibited emotional and physical signs of abuse or an attack of some kind. Her neck bore faint traces of bruising as if she’d been choked. Her left bicep, peeking out of a red and white striped top, had yellow marks of a fading contusion.
By his estimation, she’d been beaten. Not spanked like he occasionally preferred during scene play, but a cruel pounding. She wore no ring and didn’t have the tan mark of one recently removed, so he doubted she’d been married. Had she been accosted by some stranger or worked over by someone she knew? Because she definitely wore her fear like a plate of armor. Some bastard had traumatized her.
He added sweetener to his coffee and stirred. Although he’d had the presence of mind to check for a wedding band, the possibility of a live-in or other type of relationship might exist. Yet with the prickly walls she kept throwing up, he sensed a troubled soul. Something about her called to him, which was a rarity since Bella Marie.
Damn him, he’d always been a sucker for a mystery…and a frightened stray. His