Chapter Five

“Hey, isn’t that the woman we rescued from the stuck cast call?” Ward asked as Parker took a seat beside him.

Parker’s gaze locked on Tamsen, sitting with her friends a few tables away. When she glanced his way, he gave her a flirty wink. Her blush sent a burst of lust straight to his gut. He shifted in his seat, hoping the reaction didn’t show on his face.

“Yeah, that’s Tamsen.”

“That’s great, man.” Ward slapped him on the shoulder. “Now you can ask her out.”

“He can’t do that,” Díaz protested. “She’s a call—that’s totally inappropriate.”

Ward placed an elbow on the large table they were sharing, leaning in closer to Díaz. “No, she was a call, but now she’s just a woman in a bar, and we’re all off shift. He can go ask for her number, and she’s totally free to turn his ugly ass down.”

Parker snorted, lifting his beer to his lips. “Thanks, Ward.”

“Not everyone can be graced by the beauty gods, my friend.”

Now it was Díaz’s turn to snort. “I think you need a new mirror, Ward. One that isn’t so warped.”

Ah, the good old firehouse ribbing. The more everyone insulted you, the more they loved you. Some people might find it strange, but when you worked in a profession where you put your life on the line, you had to have coping mechanisms. And giving each other shit under the guise of affection was Station 42’s way. But with Ward and Díaz, it always felt like something…more.

“Whatever, I’m sexy and I know it.”

Ward bobbed his eyebrows at Díaz, who brushed him off, but Parker saw the tiny smile at the corner of her lips. Yeah, the woman had it bad, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. He liked his balls where they were, thank you very much.

“Technically, Ward is right,” O’Neil agreed. “And for a call with no fire, there were definitely some sparks in that apartment.”

What? Parker had been a complete professional during Tamsen’s emergency. On the outside. But his crewmates knew him; maybe he hadn’t hidden his attraction as well as he thought. Hopefully, Tamsen hadn’t noticed.

“Yup.” Ward nodded. “She totally has the hots for you, dude.”

“Hero worship,” Díaz argued.

O’Neil nodded in the direction of Tamsen. “You should ask her out.”

“I can’t.” With the party planning hanging over their heads, he wondered how often he would see her and how long it would take for this driving need inside him to see her naked—her long dark hair spread out on his pillow as he pleasured her in every way imaginable—to go away. Because as much as he wanted to ask her out, as much as he’d seen the spark of heat in her eyes that matched the raging fire of need low in his gut every time he so much as thought about the woman, there was one big problem. “Her dad is marrying my mom.”

A hushed silence fell over the table. It lasted a full minute until Ward opened his mouth and said with a smartass grin, “Hot for My Stepsister. I think I’ve seen that film.”

The table erupted in a chorus of groans. Díaz smacked Ward’s chest with the back of her hand.

“Ow!” Ward rubbed the offended area. “What was that for?”

“For having the maturity of a twelve-year-old.”

Parker tipped his drink to Díaz, who nodded back.

The MC got on the mic, announcing the start of trivia. Everyone settled down, pencils poised over their answer sheets to write down their guesses to round one questions. Parker’s head wasn’t in the game. It was twenty feet across the room with a dark-haired beauty who, thanks to his mother, was now completely off-limits.

Or was she?

It wasn’t like he was thrilled about his mom marrying Thomas, a guy she’d known for less than a year. A guy who appeared to be on another income tier compared to his mom. He remembered his mom said something about Thomas working at a library. That couldn’t pay much. Not that Parker had anything against working-class guys. Hell, he was a working-class guy. With a sizable inheritance he rarely touched. But he was wary, and rightly so, about any man who got involved with his mother. It wouldn’t be the first time someone wooed Victoria McMillian Kincaid for her money.

There was Charles, who told his mother he was some fancy oil tycoon. Turned out, after Parker had his PI do some digging, dear old Charles had been kicked out of the family and the oil business due to his gambling problem. His mother had been just another mark in a long line since his family cut him off.

Then there was Magnus, who almost got his mother to the alter on promises of love and happily ever afters, before Parker discovered that wasn’t even the guy’s real name. Magnus, aka Mike, was a long-time con man with warrants in two states.

Fucking bastards.

The moment he found out about the engagement, he’d fired off an email to his PI asking him to look into Thomas Hayes and now was awaiting the findings. Frank was a former detective with enough connections to dig up anything, no matter how deep someone tried to bury it. It’s how he discovered the last two guys his mom dated were gold-digging scum bags.

His gaze snagged on Tamsen again, hunched over the table, speaking in hushed whispers with her teammates. She looked up, as if she could feel him watching her. A tentative smile curled her lips, and she gave him a little wave.

He smiled back, his entire body hardening from the simple gesture. The tiny gesture of a few fingers. Damn. He was in a sticky situation. There was no way he could sleep with Tamsen while investigating her father. The two might have nothing to do with each other, but from the outside, it looked sketchy as hell.

Maybe if the investigation came back clean… It wasn’t like he wanted to break up his mother’s relationship. He just wanted to make sure her fiancé wasn’t hiding any nefarious intent. It absolutely killed him to see the pain in her eyes every time some jerk tried to take advantage of her, but he would feel worse if he sat back and let it happen when he could do something to protect her.

Which meant no sex with Tamsen.

No matter how badly his body burned for her.

The first four rounds dragged as Parker found his attention divided between trying to help his team and sneaking glances of Tamsen. Never had a woman distracted him as much as she did, and she wasn’t even paying him any attention. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t have her that had him so fascinated.

Yeah, that had to be it. Parker Kincaid did not obsess over women. He liked them, loved them in fact, but he never lost his head over one. He’d seen what losing yourself in someone else could do to a person. The power it gave them. No, thank you.

He wasn’t even sure love really existed after years of watching his mother constantly try to please his father’s impossible high standards, always falling short. The requests and conversations that eventually turned into arguments and shouting matches. The nights he’d heard his mother sobbing in the kitchen when she thought he was fast asleep in bed. All the work of a man who claimed to love her? If that was love, he wanted no part of it.

By the middle of the game, The Lumbersnacks and Most Extinguished were tied for the lead, with every other team at least a dozen points behind. The MC called a short break before the second half. With eight rounds, the questions only got harder from here on in. Or maybe it just seemed that way because by the second half of the night most people were a few drinks in.

Parker jiggled the empty beer bottle in front of him. He was still on his first because his team liked to keep clear heads. Let the other teams drink themselves stupid. They were here to win. First place won a twenty-five-dollar gift certificate to the bar, but he didn’t care about the monetary prize. It was all about the bragging rights. Which was why he found it so confusing when every time Tamsen’s team scored more points, a small part of him secretly cheered her on.

Ward stood, motioning to everyone at the table. “I’ll grab the next round. Díaz, you wanna split some nachos?”

Ward and Díaz had come to trivia fresh off shift, unlike O’Neil and him. Sometimes the hunger took a few hours to hit.

“As long as you’re not cooking them, I’ll eat them.” Díaz smiled up at Ward, a wicked glint in her eyes.

“Oh ha, ha. Don’t quit your day job.”

Ward headed off to the bar to put in their order while O’Neil stepped outside to take a phone call. Parker turned to Díaz. “Kicking the puppy awfully hard today, D.”

She stared after Ward, who stood at the bar, patiently waiting his turn. “Got called to a traffic accident today.” Her jaw clenched. “One of the drivers didn’t make it.”

Shit. Fatalities were the hardest calls. It was a hazard of the job that you never got used to. And another reason he and a lot of his fellow firefighters preferred to keep their status in singledom. Navigating a relationship with such a dangerous career was tough.

Still, some of them managed to have families. Finn had Pru and the twins; Turner and his husband were looking to adopt. Hell, even the chief had four kids of his own, all grown now, but somehow, they all managed the tricky dynamic of being a first responder and having a family life.

“You guys didn’t need to come out tonight.” Now that he looked back, Ward had been kind of tense since he arrived, and the guy had been drinking soda, not beer. Shit, that should have been a big neon sign indicating something was off.

Díaz shook her head, eyes still trained on Ward. “You know Ward. If I treated him with kid gloves, he’d bite my head off and tell me to shove it up my ass. Better to act like normal and let him process in peace.”

That was certainly true. First rule of being a firefighter: when the shit gets tough, you hold it together until you can break down in private.

“I’m gonna hit the head.” He stood. She lifted her drink, which he just now noticed was also soda.

“I’ll keep the table from floating away.”

He chuckled at her weird sense of humor. He liked Díaz, and everyone he worked with at the station. Which was why it sucked so much whenever any of them had a bad call. When one of them suffered, it felt like they all did. But no one wanted to talk about it, because it didn’t take the pain away. Somehow it only seemed to amplify it. So they joked and teased to show they had each other’s backs.

Who needed a family when you had the firehouse?

Coming back from the restroom, he passed by the women’s bathroom when suddenly the door swung open. Right into his face. Parker skidded to a halt, but it didn’t stop the hard oak from slamming right into his forehead.

“Sonofabitch!”

He heard a soft gasp, and the door swung back to reveal a horrified Tamsen.

“Oh my God, Parker. I am so sorry. I didn’t know anyone was there. I swear I just nudged it open with my hip. I must have bumped it too hard. I don’t like touching door handles because gross…there’s like so many germs on those things. Seriously the amount of people who don’t wash their hands and then get their grubby bacteria-infested mitts on all the door handles of the world would surprise you. I read this article once that said thousands of microbes are living on—”

“Tamsen, Tamsen.” He held up a hand to stop her adorable, but headed into disturbing, ramblings. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

She bit her lower lip. Cheeks blushing a dusty rose as she stared up at him, her pupils grew bigger, causing her eyes to darken as the black overtook the bright blue. “Are you sure? Let me see.”

She stepped closer, grasping his head in her hands and tilting him down so she could stare at the wounded area. He happily bent his knees to bring himself closer for inspection. Her warm, soft hands set his body on fire, sending signals straight to his dick to wake up for fun time. He willed the eager appendage to stand down. That wasn’t what this was. But he couldn’t stop the feeling of absolute enjoyment coursing through him at her touch.

This close, he could smell the aromas of acrylic paint and greasy hamburgers wafting from her skin and clothing. It was an odd combination, but somehow, on Tamsen, it worked. He noticed how blue her eyes were. Not a speck of green or brown in them. Just pure, pale blue, like a summer sky without a cloud in sight. She also had a faint smattering of freckles running across the bridge of her nose. And those lips, full and pink, just begging for him to taste them. He was so close. All he’d have to do was lean in another inch or so and he could—

“I don’t see a lump. Just a bit of redness.” She sighed happily. “Phew. I’ve already embarrassed myself enough around you. No need to add giving you a concussion to the mix.”

He pulled back, grateful she interrupted his wayward thoughts before he could do something outrageous like act on them.

Yeah, I’m super grateful I’m not kissing this beautiful woman right now.

“You guys are pretty good,” he said, leaning back against the wall to put as much space as possible between them in the tight hallway. It didn’t help much.

She scoffed, cocking out a hip and placing her hand on it. “Good? We’re destroying you.”

Oh, so she liked smack talk? “Last time I checked, the scores were tied.”

“Only because we’re going easy on the heroes. It’s a courtesy that ends now.” A wicked smile lit her face. “Little tip, we always crush it in the last half of the game.”

“The same way you all crush paper towel logo wear?” He reached out to tug on the tail end of the flannel, knotted at her waist, just above the black leggings that were hugging every dip and curve of her legs and ass. Not that he’d been staring. Much.

“I look adorable and you know it.”

He grinned at her sass. “I was going to say hot as hell, but adorable works, too.”

Oops. Where had that come from? He knew he wasn’t supposed to be flirting with Tamsen, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Her eyes widened, cheeks flushing red.

Lifting a finger, she pointed it in his face. “Don’t try to distract me, Parker. You guys are going down.”

“Those sound like betting words.”

“Wanna put a wager on the game?”

Yes, he did. But not the kind of wager he should.

“Okay, Mr. Hot Shot Firefighter.” Her arms crossed over her chest as her eyes danced with overconfidence. “Name your stakes.”

“Sex on the beach.”

Her jaw dropped, mouth popping. Heat filled her gaze as her face flushed. Her tongue came out to swipe against her lower lip in a move that he was sure wasn’t intentional but had him groaning all the same.

“Colorado doesn’t have any beaches,” she whispered in a breathy voice.

He leaned in close until their faces were centimeters apart. Arching one eyebrow, he answered, “I meant the drink. It’s what you had earlier, right?”

The flush on her cheeks turned bright red, a nervous laugh escaping her as she shook her head. “Oh right, yes. It was. You meant bet for drinks.”

He hadn’t. Not really. But he’d have to settle for outrageous flirting and taking extra-long cold showers for the next…however long this weird chemistry thing lasted.

“Loser buys drinks.”

She held out her hand. Knowing it was a bad idea to touch her, even her hand, but unable to stop himself, Parker grasped her hand in his and shook. Electric sparks shot through his blood at her touch. It felt like the first time he picked up a hose. Thrilling and right. Weighted.

When her team did indeed crush it in the second half of the game, Parker sent over her drink and watched with pained fascination as she sucked from the straw, wishing like hell Colorado had just one fucking beach.