Chapter Eight

Matt would never watch another rom-com for as long as he lived. He knew this because he’d never see another one and not think of Lexi in his arms, her shallow breaths, pupils dilated, eyes half mast, heat distorting the scant bit of atmosphere that separated them. He still didn’t know what stopped him from kissing her, or how he’d managed to walk away.

Scratch that. He knew. He damn well knew. Long looks, they could fade. But if he ever felt the sweetness of her mouth on his, if he ever dropped his head and let his eyes close and just lost himself to whatever she’d give him, things between them would never be the same.

No amount of lust was worth that.

He must have told himself that a thousand times. Watching her now, he said it again. And again.

She stood a good distance away across a manicured lawn chatting up her new buddy Dave. As far as he knew, things hadn’t gotten physical between him and Lexi, but Matt really hated the guy for having the balls to do what Matt never had.

He’d asked the woman out.

But Dave didn’t have anything to lose. And Matt…he could lose everything. Watching them together, he realized he might already have.

They were all attending a fundraiser for the children’s wing at the local hospital, and not one part of his inner sainthood wanted to form a circle and start up a chorus of “Kumbaya.”

Even though Matt had vowed to himself to back off and let her find her picket fence, he couldn’t help wondering if she’d planned to be here with that guy or if they’d just run into each other, not that it mattered.

It killed him to see Lexi with someone else.

Especially a cop.

The problem was, Matt didn’t see himself with anyone long-term. Not even Lexi. And not one woman had ever tried to change that about him. As far as he could remember, it had never even come up. He just wasn’t that guy—yet another reason he needed to stop thinking about the softness of her skin and the length of her bare leg stretched across his guest sheets.

The day was sunny, the grass green, kids running all over the place. The event fit a classification somewhere between field day and carnival, with kid-centric favorites like a dunking booth, three-legged sack race, and some pie in the face thing that constantly launched its audience into uproarious laughter. Matt was there only because he’d promised a stint in the water tank. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he’d see Lexi there, but now he couldn’t think of anything else.

He low-key watched while she laughed, ate a hot dog, held the cop’s lemonade, cooed at someone’s infant, and generally proved to Matt that her picture-perfect life could exist just fine without him. He must have told himself a thousand times to let her be happy, and might have meant it if she’d been with anyone else in any other uniform, but Lexi’s idea of kids and a fence didn’t belong in some cop’s backyard.

Matt was suddenly glad they stood on hospital grounds, because with his heart in his throat and Officer Happy Pants standing way too close to Lexi, Matt was either going to end up in the emergency room or put the cop there.

He glanced down at his own FD T-shirt, wondering if he should go change before he did something stupid and Shane had his ass for doing it in department-issued threads.

A shadow crossed his chest. He looked up to find himself in the company of a woman wearing scrubs and a nametag that indicated she was Camille. “Hey,” he said, unsure if she’d actually spoken to him.

“Matt, isn’t it?” She smiled, as if she’d known all along. “I believe you’re up for the next hour in the dunking booth?”

“That’s me,” he said. “Are you one of the organizers?”

“Just running an errand for one,” she told him, then held out her arms, showing off the small white elephants that populated her shirt. She wore full scrubs, he saw then. “I’m a pediatric nurse. Most of the staff showed up in uniform as a way for the community to get to know us.”

He took in her glowing skin and glossed smile, pegging her for around his age. Lexi had to know it would kill him to see her with a cop. Just like he knew it would drive her nuts for him to not notice her with one—especially if his attention was so obviously elsewhere. Thank you, Camille. “Have you eaten yet?” he asked on a whim. “Those hot dogs smell great.”

“I wouldn’t eat a hot dog if I was starving,” she told him. He braced himself to hear about the miscellany of animal parts that purportedly found their way into the blender that produced them, but instead she smiled. “I’ll be happy to walk over with you, though.”

“I’d like that,” he said. “Think they’ll let me have your hot dog?”

She laughed. “I think they’ll let you have as many as you’re willing to buy.”

He took the suggestion to heart, paying for ten but taking only two. “Donation,” he said to the very surprised man who had the job of handing them out. “Or give a couple of freebies to someone who looks hungry.” Anyone but PD, he added to himself, not that he’d ever say that. Maybe anyone but that chump with Lexi. For a man on duty, he should probably take the occasional look around, but he hadn’t once taken his eyes off her.

“You’re the full package,” Camille said, once again dragging him from his thoughts. “Attractive, generous, and willing to take a turn in the tank.”

“Don’t read too much into it,” he said with a laugh. “Every guy on my shift has to take a turn. Lieutenant’s orders.”

“Does that include the lieutenant?” Camille asked, returning his smile with one of her own. She was pretty, and probably liked kids, considering her occupation. A couple of weeks ago, he would have had her number by now.

Today, his heart just wasn’t in it.

“If it didn’t,” Matt said, thinking of Shane’s orders to hit the tank and his utterly convenient previous obligation, “I’d find him and hose him down myself.”

She laughed, and he wondered why he couldn’t dredge up the desire to ask her out. She seemed interested enough, wasn’t wearing a ring, had a great laugh, and judging from the number of kids who greeted her with cotton-candy stained smiles, was probably good at her job. But all he felt was distracted.

He noticed Lexi standing with Dave, a large burlap sack in her hand. She gestured with animation, but despite his broadening smile, the cop only shook his head. Camille must have followed his gaze because she commented, “It’s almost time for the race to begin. I don’t want to get my scrubs dirty or I’d participate, but do you want to go watch?”

“Sure,” he said, “But you know, if you get dirty you can take my turn in the dunking booth.”

“As much as I appreciate your generosity,” she said drily, “I’m going to pass.”

Camille must have known Lexi’s cop, because as they drew near, she called out to him, “Don’t tell me she’s talked you into racing. Aren’t you on duty, Officer Kemp?”

The cop glanced at Lexi, grinning. “I told you I had to abstain.”

“Abstinence,” Matt said with a slight snort. “Now there’s a quality in a guy.”

Lexi shot him a death look while the cop laughed. “Definitely not something for the dating profile,” he agreed.

Okay, so the guy had a sense of humor. And a dating profile. But he was still a cop.

“Trying to talk him into the race?” he asked Lexi. “Not a bad idea. I hear the PD can run better than most.”

Kemp looked a little harder at Matt, his gaze zeroing in on the FD emblem on his shirt. “Every now and then we have to chase someone,” he agreed with a smirk. “Gotta stay on our toes. It’s not like we can solve all our problems with a garden hose.”

Matt held out his hands in false surrender. “When you can carry an unconscious man down a dozen flights of stairs through a burning building, you let me know.”

“Should be easy enough,” Kemp said, his brow quirked. “You boys spend enough time blowing smoke.”

“It’s not as hardcore as what goes down at the donut shop,” Matt conceded. “But I hear you like your coffee black, so don’t let anyone tell you you’re not living on the edge.”

“And on that note,” Lexi cut in, sending Matt a disapproving look, “the race is starting soon. Are you sure you don’t want to run, Dave?”

“Sorry, Lexi,” Kemp said. “I would love to, but like I said, I’m on duty. Weapon and all.”

“I’ll do it,” Matt told Lexi, then looked toward Camille. “If that’s okay.” He needn’t ask her permission—they’d literally just met—but he sure didn’t mind asking in front of Lexi.

“Of course,” Camille said, smiling.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he told her. “I’ll be back.” He slung an arm around Lexi’s shoulders and steered her away, toward the starting line. About twenty-five pairs of runners milled around, some attempting to get into the bags and toppling with their efforts.

“What was that about?” she asked tightly when they were out of earshot of Kemp and Camille. “Are you trying to ruin things with Dave?”

Kemp’s name on her lips was like nails on a chalkboard—a feeling Matt wholly ignored. Lexi wasn’t wrong about his caveman instincts, but if she wanted to date a cop, whatever. “You wanted to do the race, right?”

“Not with you.”

“We’d better practice our technique,” he said, ignoring her. “I want to win this thing.”

“There are ten-year-old kids out there who are going to bury us,” she said, watching a pair somewhere in that age range run like they didn’t each have a leg mired in burlap. “Lower your expectations.”

“What’s wrong? Can’t handle being that close to me?”

Lexi looked him up, then down. “Oh, yeah. I can. But can you handle being close to me?” She then proceeded to step out of her long silky skirt to reveal a tiny pair of gym shorts underneath. Grinning, she dropped the skirt against a tree that neighbored the clearing and slipped out of her sandals. Her tee fell just low enough to suggest she didn’t wear any pants, which was probably worse than the sight of her in those little shorts.

“Is that even legal?” he asked when his tongue decided to work.

“Check the rules,” she said. “I’ll wait.”

“There are children.”

“Yes, and unless you have the point of view of an oversexed Neanderthal, I’m covered.”

“Is this why you wanted the cop to race with you? So you could show him your legs?”

“Yeah, I thought it would be super romantic if I distracted him and we both fell on our faces in front of a hundred witnesses.”

Matt looked down at his own basketball shorts, regretting his otherwise wise decision not to wear jeans to a dunking booth. He’d known the slide of her leg against his a thousand times in his life, but his perspective had shifted. His body was already in full-on response mode. Penile fractures were a real thing, and being on hospital grounds offered little comfort.

When he glanced back at Lexi, her smirk was almost his undoing. “You’re totally doing this on purpose.”

“I believe you started it.” She slipped one leg in the burlap bag and batted her eyelashes at him. “What do you say, Matt? Want to crawl in the sack with me?” With a knowing grin, she added, “You did offer, right?”

“Not quite what I meant,” he said under his breath. Nevertheless, he stepped in alongside her, wincing when she hauled the bag up and it threatened to separate the twins. “I have never been happier to be taller than you,” he grumbled, taking in the seam of the bag where it rested between her legs. “But if you like the friction,” he said pointedly, “I’ll take my chances.”

She looked down, apparently just then realizing she had the bag tugged up against a spot he suspected she liked to feel some pressure. “Seriously?”

He looped an arm around her waist, mimicking the position many of the racers had adopted, but all he could think about was dragging her behind a tree and giving her something real to ride.

They nearly fell over twice on the slow walk to the starting line. That didn’t exactly bode well. He was in the middle of second and third thoughts when the buzzer sounded, which he supposed was the more PC version of a starter’s pistol. All the kids leaped ahead, while the handful of adults didn’t fare so well.

Then he heard Kemp calling Lexi’s name.

“All right,” Matt said. “It’s on.”

Lexi barely had a chance to look at him before he scooped her up against him, hip to hip, both of her feet off the ground. “Hold on,” he said, hoisting the bag with his free hand, running easily as he literally carried her across the field, besting all of the adults, holding back just enough not to beat any of the kids who were still in it. He caught himself against a tree at the far edge of the course, several feet from the finish line, momentum causing him to stumble, dragging Lexi in tighter.

Her heartbeat thudded against his chest, and the moment bloomed between them. His gaze dropped to her lips, knowing the sweetness that awaited, but they weren’t exactly alone…or hidden.

And he hadn’t exactly let her go, either. “You’re not even winded,” she whispered.

“And yet you are.” He didn’t have to say the rest, because they both knew she hadn’t been running across that field. Her heart did that for another reason entirely.

“I have to carry that department dummy up and down flights of stairs and over mountain terrain,” he reminded her. “No offense, but you don’t have anything on that dummy.”

“Just this once,” she said with a laugh that biologically damned him, “I won’t be insulted.”

Most of the audience and racers had already gravitated away from them, he noticed, toward the far end of the clearing where the food vendors and carnival games made a wide path riddled with kids running amok, parents angling strollers out of the sun, and a frenzy of colorful displays. Even Kemp and Camille had their attention turned elsewhere, with Camille speaking animatedly with a young family while Officer Do-Right knelt before a wide-eyed toddler, who touched his badge with chubby fingers.

Lexi and he were a world away from everyone else—something she must have noticed, because she subtly angled her hand against him, grazing his erection. Clearly not an accident. A half dozen responses bounced brokenly through his mind, none of the pieces coming together to form sentences.

“Um.” He gracelessly mumbled the scholarly response. Then he noticed the gleam in her eye and realized this was payback for the sofa thing, which he’d yet to quit thinking about. And which he’d also had the decency to perform privately. This… This was not a fair fight. And if he didn’t resist the urge to let her know what he thought of it, he’d probably get them both kicked off the grounds, traumatizing a bunch of kids in the process. Thank goodness for the slight camouflage of the tree and the stand of hibiscus separating the bulk of the largely vacated clearing from the rest of the event.

Then she grazed him a bit more deliberately, her hand moving subtly against his shorts, directly along the shaft. “Want me to take care of this for you?”

He glanced over his shoulder, glad his back was to everyone. What the hell was wrong with her? Was this payback for the sofa? Because she needn’t trouble herself. Unable to shake the image of her lowered eyelashes, to forget the speed of her pulse fluttering beneath his fingertips, he’d paid for that a thousand times over. “Here might not be the best place,” he said cautiously.

She stepped out of the bag, and for one ridiculous moment he thought she was going to get on her knees. But instead she backed away and gave him the most devilish of grins. “No, not here.” She tilted her head. “Over there. Just you and me.”

He blinked. “What?”

She shrugged. “Well, you, me, and a few witnesses. You’re up at the dunking tank, Matt, and I call first dibs.”

…

Lexi wasn’t first. She’d been waylaid by Dave and Camille, each of whom offered an excessive amount of congratulations for what Lexi considered a minor feat. It hardly counted as teamwork when Matt had carried her across the field, especially when being able to do so effortlessly was in his job description. That he’d intentionally held back so the lead pack of kids would finish ahead of them only upped the ante.

She wasn’t ready for that.

Not when they teetered weirdly on the edge of whatever they were supposed to be. She thought of the small screen friends-with-benefits situation that he’d mocked and wondered how he’d really feel about it if she walked up to him, let something silky fall from her shoulders, and waited. The idea made her breath catch. Would his?

She needed him too much to find out.

Still gazing absently after him, she slipped back into her skirt and sandals and met back with Dave and Camille, wondering why they didn’t just couple up themselves. She liked Dave and she’d been happy to run into him here, but sparks still hadn’t flown. He’d likely recognized as much, not seeming to be in any rush to make a move on her.

Glancing at Camille, she asked, “How long have you known Matt?”

“I met him today,” the woman responded. “You?”

“Too long,” Lexi muttered, not missing the look Camille and Dave exchanged. “Long enough to want to see him get wet.”

“Now you’re talking,” Camille said, laughing.

“Prepare to nurse his wounds,” Lexi said. She wished Caitlin could be there to see this, but she and Shane had another obligation, which at least spared Lexi the smug, knowing looks she knew would have come her way.

Matt hadn’t been dunked yet, Lexi noted. By the time she made it to the line, there were only a couple of preschool age kids in front of her. Matt wasn’t in any danger, though he pretended he was about to go in despite the lobbed balls not getting anywhere near their target. The kids laughed at his antics.

Lexi’s ovaries wept.

She paid for two rounds of balls—six tries—and while she waited, found herself watching him. Staring at his hands, knowing how tender those rough palms could be against her skin. She shook her head, willing thoughts of him to vacate.

A small crowd had gathered by the time the attendant handed her the first ball. Matt held out his hands in a classic whatever you got gesture…and she missed by two feet. She quickly threw another one, closer this time, but missing the target. “Come on, Lexi,” he called. “I know you can handle a pair of balls better than that.”

“Wow,” Camille said. “Let’s just hope that goes over the head of just about everyone here.”

“It sure as hell didn’t go over mine,” Dave remarked.

Camille didn’t say a word in response.

“Please,” Lexi retorted. “Like you’ve never struggled to find the right spot.”

“Okay, wow,” Camille said. “I’m guessing these two are old…friends.”

Dave cleared his throat. “Very.”

Lexi heaved another ball, dinging the target but not hitting it squarely enough to dunk Matt. “Look who’s not finding the right spot,” he yelled back, dragging a series of cheers from the crowd. He raised his arms in victory, nearly inciting a riot from a chorus of predominately male voices.

Lexi grinned, guessing that in light of his celebration that Matt must not have realized she had three more tries. The ball retriever guy must have realized it, too, because he covertly handed her the next ball.

And she nailed it.

Matt went down with his arms still raised in victory, the surprise on his face not fully registering through the windowed tank until he hit the bottom and pushed up. By the time he broke the surface, fifty people stood around them, cheering. He shook his head, flinging off water, shoulder deep in what she’d been promised was an unpleasantly chilly bath. Camille shot Lexi a high five.

Then Matt began to haul himself up the ladder, and both women froze. The soaked basketball shorts clung indecently to everything. Everything.

“If that’s him cold…” Camille said.

“Heaven help anyone who gets him hot,” Lexi muttered.