LIAM STARED OVER at Sophie and his heart swelled in his chest. She wore ordinary jeans, a peach blouse and a vest, but she looked like a supermodel to him. Besotted. That was the word to describe how he felt after just four days of their new arrangement. He’d made a therapy appointment for next week, but in the interim, they’d thrown caution to the wind, played hooky and had actually gone out together today.
Crossing the room and coming up behind her and, as if he had the right—which today, he did—he placed his hands on her shoulders. “What are you looking at?”
They were at the New York City Fire Museum on Spring Street, which wasn’t far from the pub. The building itself was a renovated firehouse and had character.
“This is so cool. These old-time fire engines are set up like they’re on parade. Can’t you just picture them coming down the streets of a nineteenth-century New York City?”
Mostly, in his mind, he could just picture her. Had been able to picture only her for days. “Yeah, sure.”
He took her hand as they moved from apparatus to apparatus in the fire engine collection. They’d already seen the 9/11 memorial and stood before it silently. He’d sensed a rightful sadness in her, and wondered what it was really like to be a firefighter and lose all those brothers in the Twin Towers.
Off in another room were hand-painted parade hats, speaking trumpets and leather fire buckets. Liam found these most interesting and read the descriptions earnestly.
All the while, they chatted like a normal couple, and that felt good, too. Really good. When they came upon the collection of modern firefighting equipment, he was fascinated by the tools of her trade, especially the Jaws of Life. The brutal-looking spreader with jagged edges on the blade was daunting.
“Have you used these, Soph?”
“A time or two. It depends on what else has to be done. The last call we needed them on was a few weeks ago. Bilotti ripped open the roof of the minivan because I was...” Her voice trailed off. She often stopped herself in the middle of a sentence.
Squeezing her neck, he said, “You can tell me, sweetheart.”
“You said you don’t read or watch the news about our runs.”
“Things are different now. You can talk to me about your work. I won’t go ballistic.”
On the Internet, Liam had discovered that a perennial problem with firefighters and their significant others was how to include the people they loved in their work and not scare the hell out of them. He was determined to handle her stories. If they were to make it together, she had to be able to tell them to him.
“I was in the vehicle trying to get a kid out.”
She was inside a car that had to be torn apart. He imagined the engine was compromised, like in the bus accident last week, but didn’t ask her about it. “Did you get her out?”
“Yeah. A three-year-old girl.”
“Good.”
They meandered around the museum, commenting on the various displays until they came upon a section where a tour was just about to start. The guide with a tag that said “Retired FDNY” smiled at them. “Want to come in? We’ve got room for one more.”
“No,” Sophie said vehemently.
Startled, Liam looked at her.
“It’s a fire simulation. I don’t want you to see it.”
“I can handle it.”
“Liam, I...”
He kissed her cheek. “Wait here.”
After listening to the introduction, Liam ducked inside with the others. The room was a mock apartment, equipped with lasers, black lights, safe smoke and other devices that illustrated common fire hazards and promoted safe living environments. Though it all fascinated him, the most striking thing was when they started the smoke—it was a white mist, really—Liam couldn’t see anything. Nothing. Sophie went into buildings like this? Blind? As he made his way through the apartment by holding on to a rope along with the others, his heart began to beat fast, he started sweating and he felt disoriented. Jesus!
She was waiting for him when he stumbled out. He strode over to her and drew her off to the side. Almost reverently, he took her face in his hands. “You have to be one of the most courageous people I’ve ever met.”
“Why?”
“Because you routinely go into those kinds of environments.”
“Anybody could do it with enough training.”
“I couldn’t.” He brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “I admire you so much.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Again, he took her hand. “Let’s go look at the gift shop. I want to buy you something.”
That something turned out to be an FDNY baby-doll T-shirt. It was pink and lettered with “Real Women Drive Fire Trucks” across the front. She said, “Oh, God, if the guys knew I had this, they’d rag on me bad.”
“Don’t worry. You’re certainly not wearing this skimpy little thing to the station house.”
She giggled like a schoolgirl. Down the aisle she found something for him—a pair of boxers. On the butt was scripted, “Find ’em hot, leave ’em wet.”
He laughed and took them to pay. At the counter they found a collection of chili. Liam leaned over and whispered, “Let’s get a package of this, go back to your place, cook it and eat it in our new undies. Just these and nothing else.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“The chili?”
“That, too.”
o0o
“LIAM O’NEIL, if I wasn’t married, I’d go after you with all I got.” Hannah grinned at Sophie. “Any sane girl would.”
“Why, darlin’, you made my day.” This morning he’d forgone the pub shirt and wore a black long-sleeved thermal top with gray jeans. He looked sleek and sexy. He’d continued to work out and it showed.
The guys chimed in. Cooper asked, “How often do you serve a real Irish breakfast?” The meal consisted of bacon and other pork products, as well as eggs, potatoes and Irish tea Liam had made today.
“Not often.” Next to Sophie’s chair, he bent over to clear plates. His arm brushed hers and she could feel his heat. “It’s bad for your arteries.” He winked at Hannah. “I don’t eat it much because I have to keep my girlish figure.”
“How’s the gym working for you?” Murray wanted to know. Sophie’s coworker had mentioned he’d seen Liam at Paddock’s the other day.
“Lately I’m only getting there twice a week. I need to go more.” He threw Sophie a pointed look. “I’ve been...tied up.”
The guys talked while Liam finished up and cashed them out. His movements were swift and economical, but Sophie knew he could be slow and smooth. When she handed him a ten, his brows knitted. “You work here, Sophie.”
“Not today. I pay my way.”
Reluctantly, he took her cash.
As he stacked dishes, the guys talked as if he were one of them. “Another arson last night,” a firefighter from another truck company said. “Don Lucas from Squad 28 got hurt.”
Almost imperceptively, Liam stilled. Sophie saw his eyes narrow.
“Any leads on the torch?”
“Tyler?” Murray asked. “You talked to Carusotti?”
“Joe said it’s looking more like the guy knows what he’s doing.”
“Can’t believe it would be another firefighter,” Jules commented again. He seemed to be having a lot of trouble with that possibility.
“It’ll be a shame if it is.” The captain blew out a heavy breath. “I hate what that does to morale.”
They lapsed into talk about other arson cases, then slowly began to leave. When Mackenzie reached the door, he glanced back at Sophie. “You coming?”
“No, I’m gonna stick around and help Liam finish up.”
When he came out of the kitchen with a cloth to mop up the table, Sophie was alone in the pub and staring down at the jukebox. “They all gone?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.”
From her peripheral view, she could see him cross to the door and lock it. Bailey’s didn’t open for lunch until 11:30. He came to the machine and braced his arms on either side of her, effectively imprisoning her from behind. The sensation was more than pleasant as his body, his scent surrounded her. She leaned back into him. “What are you doing?”
“Stealing some time with you.” He kissed her neck. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
“Aren’t the guys coming in?”
“Nope, Pat has the day off and Dyl called last night and said Hogan had something at school today he’d forgotten about. And Ma and Pa are out shopping.”
“So it’s just you and me.”
“I like the sound of that, Sophie baby.”
Moving to the side, his hand slid into his pocket and changed jingled. “Wanna dance?”
“No thanks, I watched you Halloween night. And Dylan told me your mother taught you guys ballroom dancing. “
He arched a brow. “You mean I can do something physical better than you?”
“Forget it.”
He dropped change into the slot. They still had an old-fashioned jukebox, not a digital one. Some sexy Latin music blasted out. “Liam, I—”
“Hush, I’ll teach you the salsa.” On the dance floor he set them up facing each other. “Now, here’s the routine. You go back in a one-two-three step. Quick, quick. slow.” He demonstrated the move. “And I go forward. The man always leads.”
“Of course he does.”
“Let’s try it.”
His hands settled at her waist, his touch firm, possessive. “Added benefit.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I get to hold you in public.”
They did the simple step. “Pick your feet up, don’t bounce.”
She caught on quickly; he went further, showing her another step where they turned to the side. Intent, and completely focused, it took her only about a half hour to get them down.
“This is fun.”
“Nah. This is the fun part.” Placing his hands on her hips, he ran them up and down. “Hmm. Now move your hips. Swish them. Yeah, that’s it.” He pulled her close and pressed his lower body into her. She could feel his muscles tighten like they always did when he was around her.
“I do like this.”
“A dance for lovers,” he whispered in her ear.
“I think I could dance with you all day.”
“Maybe some of the day. Then we’d get to the lover part.”
o0o
AT THE END of the week, Sophie worked the last of her night shift and Liam went over to her place after he’d cooked breakfast at the pub. He brought with him some DVDs. She took one look at them and shook her head. “Let’s not watch these.”
“I wanna know more about your job.”
This wasn’t good. She felt it in her gut. When she was married to Ray, they used to watch all the firefighter shows like Third Watch and Rescue Me and the movies that came out, but he was a paramedic in the business and knew what the job was like. She didn’t want to subject Liam to the nitty-gritty.
“Backdraft isn’t very realistic. They show guys going into burning buildings without face masks, and there’re flames in the scenes, but hardly any smoke, which is just plain stupid. A fire doesn’t happen that way.”
He put in one of the discs, led her to the couch and pulled her down beside him. “Yeah, but there’s that scene on the fire truck where William Baldwin makes love to his girl. I wanna see that.”
“You’re a sex maniac.”
“Hey, I’m making up for lost time.”
“Fine by me.” She reached for the remote.
He stayed her hand. “What happened?”
She looked down at her wrist where there were crisscross burn marks. They’d puckered up and looked like hell. Shit, she’d forgotten. “I took my glove off to test a door. A beam fell nearby and shot burning pieces of wood every place. One caught my wrist.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Nah.”
His face was pained. “I’m sorry.” But he shook whatever he was feeling off and turned to the TV.
They watched all of Backdraft and had started Ladder 49 when Sophie felt her eyes close. The next thing she knew, Liam was picking her up. She nosed into him, felt herself being carried then laid down and covered. He started to draw back.
She grabbed his hand. “Get in with me.”
“If I get in, you won’t sleep.”
“I will. After.”
Chuckling, he stripped and slid into the bed with her.
She felt like she was floating in a half-dreamlike state. Everything he did was hazy, all his tender ministrations and even her orgasm was soft and fluid.
She awoke about four, fully refreshed. She had to be to work at the pub by five. Intuitively, she sensed Liam was gone. Rolling over, she found a note on the nightstand. “See you later, Sleeping Beauty.”
Grinning, she leapt out of bed, showered, dressed in nice black slacks and the pub T-shirt, took a few minutes to fuss with her hair, and yeah, put on a little makeup. She arrived at the pub forty-five minutes later.
“There she is,” Patrick said from behind the bar. As she got closer, his gaze narrowed on her. “You look fantastic. Good day?”
“Hmm, the best.”
“You work last night?”
“Yeah, but I got enough rest.” She removed her leather coat. “I’ll just hang this in the back. Is, um, Liam there?”
“Yep. Mike and Kathleen, my girl, are with him.”
Sophie headed for the kitchen and found Liam at the stove. He’d changed his clothes and put on soft jeans and a pub T-shirt over a long-sleeved navy top. The two kids were on either side of him, each standing on chairs, each watching a pot.
“How long does it take to boil, Uncle Liam?” Kathleen asked.
“Not too long. Just remember to stay back so steam doesn’t burn your face. It can be as dangerous as hot water.”
In a minute, he handed them noodles. “All right, put these in. Be careful you don’t splash the water...there, that’s right...good girl, Kathleen. You too, Mike.”
When they finished, he carefully helped each kid down from their perches. He was whistling as he turned and looked up.
“Hi, Liam.”
“Sophie.” His voice was husky.
“Sophie!” Mike raced to her and hugged her around the waist.
“Hey, Mikey.”
He drew back and his hand slid down her arm. She jerked when he grasped her wrist. Mike frowned, looking really like an O’Neil. “What happened?”
“I got a little burn.”
He stilled.
“Does it hurt?” Kathleen asked.
“Not now.”
Mike’s brows were knitted when he looked up at her. “Dad just told us how bad burns can be. How they hurt.”
“I was talking about boiling water, Mike.”
“A fire’s gotta hurt, too, Dad.”
Sophie squeezed his shoulder. “Uh, yeah, it does.”
“I saw the picture of you climbing out of that school bus.” He hadn’t mentioned that before. “It blew up.”
“I was far away when the engine gave.”
The back door opened and Aidan came in. Even Sophie could feel the strain in the room. He said, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Liam shrugged.
“Sophie got hurt, Uncle Aidan.”
She held up her arm. “Just a burn.”
Nonchalantly, Aidan crossed to Sophie and inspected her wrist. “Ah, that’s nothing. Remember when C.J. got hurt saving Rory?”
“Uh-huh.”
“That was worse than this and she was okay.” He ruffled Mike’s hair. “People get hurt. They mend.”
“I guess.”
“Come on, you two, let’s go have a Coke.” With a quick glance at his brother, Aidan shuffled the kids out.
Sophie hated the look on Liam’s face. “This is what we’re dealing with,” he said. “Sometimes I forget.”
“I know.” Thinking about the dreamlike state she was in when she and Liam had made love only hours ago, she added, “Reality sucks!”
o0o
JAY YOST SAT on a stuffed chair across from Liam and Sophie, who were next to each other on the couch. “Nice to meet you, Sophie.”
“You, too. Liam speaks highly of you.”
He nodded.
“Jay won’t tell you I talked about you in these sessions, Soph. But I want you to know I have.”
She smiled shyly and gave a nervous shrug of her shoulder. He noticed she’d dressed up, too, in a long maroon skirt and white sweater. “Good stuff?”
“Yep.”
“So, what can I do for you today?” Jay asked.
“We need some help. It’s about Mikey. I know you don’t normally let me talk about him for the whole session, but this is different.”
“Shoot.”
“Sophie and I are seeing each other. We tried not to, but it didn’t work out.”
“Is that a bad thing?” the psychologist asked.
“No, it’s good. But we haven’t gone public with our relationship because of Mike.”
Jay gave him a pointed look.
“I know you don’t think I should build my life around him, but if we tell him about us, and he gets even closer to Sophie than he is, we’re worried about his mental state.”
Sophie added, “He got upset when I fell off a ladder in a fire and had a bad reaction to a burn I got the other day.” She sighed. “He also saw a school bus blow up behind me—just after I climbed out of it.”
“A lot for anybody to take in.”
“We need ways to help him cope with the danger of Sophie’s job,” Liam said. “If we’re to keep seeing each other.”
“Are you?”
“Are we what?”
“The first question I have to ask would be is this a fling or are you serious about pursuing a relationship? Because if it’s a fling, I recommend you leave Mike out of the whole thing.”
No response from either of them.
Finally, Liam picked up her hand. He was feeling a little anxiety himself right now. But fuck it, as he’d told her, he was done dancing around life. “It’s not a fling for me.”
“It isn’t for me, either,” she answered quickly.
Liam’s heart lightened. His grin, when it came, matched hers.
Jay smiled, too. “Well, then, let’s get down to business.”
Keeping her hand in his, Liam addressed the therapist. “I’ve been reading about childhood anxiety disorders on the Internet.”
“Mike might have that to a degree, but since there’s no irrational fear here—Sophie is in danger every time she goes to work—he doesn’t fit the parameter that a lot of the kids’ fears are manufactured. Not real.”
Liam frowned.
“But we can apply some of the tenants of dealing with childhood anxiety to your predicament. The first thing I’d recommend is that you don’t put the burden of your relationship on him.”
“What do you mean?”
“If he thinks you’ll stop seeing each other if he reacts badly, it’ll cause him even more anxiety.”
Sophie asked, “But how do we work with him if he doesn’t know we’re worried about him.”
“Just tell him you’re seeing each other without implying he has a say in it. That it’s a fait accompli. Then talk openly with him. Tell him Sophie’s in danger—don’t hide that. He knows it already and if you cover it up, he’ll be confused. Instead, help him express what he’s feeling.”
Liam nodded. “We can do that.”
“Let him express his fears, encourage him to. He can cry. Say he’s worried when he is.” He took a bead on Liam. “That’s something you should think about.”
“What do you mean?”
“I imagine you worry about Sophie, too.”
“If I do, I can control it.”
“Maybe.” Jay didn’t look convinced. “But don’t deny your fears, either.”
Sophie squeezed his hand. “You do that sometimes.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Also, Mike’s going to need coping skills to handle his anxiety.”
“Like what?”
“Karen Lang can help there, but you can, too. It might be something as simple as having someone else he can talk to about this, besides you two. A place to vent where he doesn’t have to worry about you.”
“Dr. Lang?”
“Yes, and maybe one of your brothers or your sister-in-law.”
“He’s close to Brie and C.J.”
“Another thing you can do, Sophie, is take him to the firehouse, explain precisely what you do. Tell him what’s reasonable fear and what isn’t.”
“The guys on my group have families. I can ask them how their kids deal. Maybe he could talk to kids of other firefighters.”
“Good idea.”
“Cara Cahill’s father is a policeman,” Liam said thoughtfully. “I just found that out.”
“That’s his little friend?” When Liam nodded, Jay agreed. “He might talk to her. Check with her mother, first.” He thought for a minute. “We could also get him into a more formal support group.”
“Aidan was in one.” Liam explained how the Secret Service had set up a group for spouses of agents after an agent was killed protecting Clay. “And there was an online group he belonged to.”
“Maybe you should visit that. Like I said, I’m worried about you dismissing your fears.”
He wished they wouldn’t keep bringing up his feelings. “Let’s concentrate on Mike for now.”
“All right, today we will. But next session it’s all you, buddy.”
“Where do we go from here?”
“Let me talk to Karen. I’ll tell her what we brainstormed, and see what she has to say. Meanwhile, take the first step. Let Mike know you two are dating. Be casual about it. Will he be glad?”
Liam smiled over at Sophie. “How can he not be? He cares about her, too.”
When they left the office and walked outside, the wind blew and the air was cold, so Liam drew Sophie off the street under an overhang. He cupped her face with his hands. “Some big admissions in there, woman.”
The expression in her eyes was warm and loving. She smiled broadly. “I meant everything I said, Liam.”
“I did, too.”
“So, onto the next phase I guess. Telling people.”
“My brothers are gonna have a field day.”
“Will they be happy?”
“Yep.”
“Are you?”
“You betcha, baby.” He grabbed her hand. “Let’s take the next step.”