Chapter 2

2

CLAY

I t was a bad time to have an erection.

That was my one thought as I raced through the tattoo parlor, checking each room, both visually and using scent. I’d spent seven years as a Navy SEAL, doing special ops, participating in raids, and all kinds of other things. But I was new to Rosewood Ridge and its volunteer fire department.

I was still in training, so it wasn’t like I knew exactly how to handle an alarm going off. I just rushed across the street because I saw a white sedan in the parking lot after hearing it. I didn’t even know if it was a burglar alarm or a smoke detector. Either way, if someone was inside, I had to check and make sure everything was okay.

The gorgeous brunette was no longer naked as I reentered the lobby area. She wore a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, and she was holding a purse. Yes, instead of exiting as I’d said, she was still here, staring down at her phone screen.

“Everything looks fine,” I said. “Let’s get you out of here and I’ll call my buddy. He’s the captain of the volunteer fire department. He can send someone to check it out and make sure there’s nothing I missed.”

She looked up at some point during that speech, eyes wide. For some reason, she started shaking her head before I reached the end of it.

“It won’t open.” She looked toward the door. “Do you think the alarm locked it up automatically?”

The noise was getting on my nerves. I needed to find the source of it and shut it off. Or maybe it was the memory of those huge tits that had my brain all screwed up. Whatever the cause, I couldn’t think straight.

“I doubt it,” I said as I wandered the area looking for the source of all the noise.

I finally found it. An alarm keypad was mounted on the wall close to the door. The screen let me know the alarm had been activated. Yeah, like I didn’t know that.

“Do you have the code?” I yelled back.

As I looked over at the brunette, I regretted the volume of my voice. It was necessary to be heard over the ruckus, but those big blue eyes had an innocence to them that made me want to be gentle with her.

“My boss would have that,” she said. “He’s traveling with his wife and kids right now.”

“The alarm company should have called him, though.” I turned back to the keypad. There had to be a way to disable the sound. “Surely, he would have tried to get in touch with you.”

“I’m not supposed to be here this late,” she said. “The place is closed. I was just trying to warm up. The thermostat’s locked down so we can’t adjust the temperature.”

That sounded barbaric, but to her boss’s credit, it didn’t feel that cold in here to me. In fact, I was on the verge of breaking a sweat. But it could also be that seeing her topless had gotten my motor running, boosting my internal temperature.

“Let me call my roommate,” she said. “She works here too.”

How she could call anyone with this noise going on was beyond me. But texting might not get the immediate answer we needed. She plugged her right ear and held the phone to her left as she wandered from the room and down the hallway where the tanning beds and tattoo rooms were.

I, meanwhile, was punching numbers and hoping I didn’t make the situation worse. If this alarm system was connected to anything, the local sheriff would probably show up at any minute, followed by the volunteer department’s lone fire truck.

“Two-three-nine-eight,” I heard her call out before she even emerged from the hallway. “Then hit the pound key.”

I did exactly as she said and, sure enough, the sound stopped mid-screech. I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d never appreciated silence so much, but somehow that changed things. It made me fully aware that I was alone in this place with a beautiful woman. And she was stuck with me.

It brought to mind all the things I wanted to do to her. Things I’d been imagining since seeing her mostly naked in that tanning bed.

“Now we can work on getting out of here,” I said, heading over to the front door.

I needed to stay busy. I needed to take my mind off the breasts I’d seen earlier.

“I think the lock’s jammed,” she said.

At those words, guilt shot through me. I’d fiddled with the lock to get in. The alarm had been going off and the light was on, and I also saw a purse right out there in the open—an invitation for burglary, if I’d ever seen one. I’d panicked.

It had taken me exactly two minutes to pick the lock and get inside. But in doing so, I might have damaged some things.

I could unjam it. I just needed to work on it a little.

“Do you have a flathead screwdriver?” I asked, turning toward her.

She was standing near the counter now, the purse back on top of it. Obviously, she’d given up on getting out of here anytime soon. That just made me more determined than ever to prove I could free both of us.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t even know where he’d keep tools like that.”

“Maybe behind the counter?” I asked.

I started toward her, breezing past her to go behind the counter. She smelled like summer. Like the beach. It took a second for me to realize she probably had on some sort of suntan oil. She’d been in the tanning bed when I arrived, after all. Or maybe she always smelled like coconuts.

“I’m texting my coworker to see if she knows where a screwdriver would be,” she said.

“Don’t.”

The word came out more abruptly than I’d intended. Her eyes were wide as her head popped up.

“I don’t want it to get back to your boss that I fucked up his lock,” I blurted.

Oh crap. I’d just admitted I was the cause of this. I was supposed to be her hero right now, not the man making her life more difficult.

That thought gave me pause. Why did I want to be her hero? I’d just met her. Still, there was no denying this draw I had toward her. This feeling that I could fall in love with this woman.

Focus on the task at hand, Clay , I thought to myself. I deliberately tore my gaze away and started opening drawers and cabinets, looking for anything that I might be able to wedge between the door and the door jamb.

“Did you break in?” she asked.

“The alarm was going off,” I said without looking at her.

“So you did it to save me.”

Well, I technically didn’t know it was her at the time. But I wanted her to see me as her hero, so who was I to correct that?

“Yes,” I said. “I’m still early on in my firefighter training, but that’s what we do.”

“You’re part of the volunteer fire department?”

Hadn’t I mentioned that already? I was pretty sure I had. But in all the chaos, I couldn’t blame her for forgetting.

“Name’s Clay,” I said, coming around the counter. I’d exhausted the whole area and found nothing. But I was holding out a hand as I stepped toward her. “I’ve only been in town a few months.”

She eyed my hand warily for a second, then extended her own. “Amber,” she said. “I’ve lived here all my life. Moved away for college, then came back when my friend said she could get me a job here. I needed something that could pay the bills but would also let me work on my graphic design stuff when things were slow.”

Graphic design. So my girl was creative. Smart and beautiful. A killer combination.

Wait, since when did I start calling her my girl? It sounded right, though. The more I rolled it around in my head, the more I wanted it to be true. And one thing my buddies knew about me was that when I set my mind to something, I got it.

This might be a bit more challenging, though, especially since she was looking at me with confusion. Her gaze suddenly lowered to where our hands joined, and I realized we’d been shaking for an abnormally long time.

Yeah, that was my bad. I liked the way her hand felt in mine. I liked her being close to me too, that coconut smell drifting over to me. I liked everything about this. But I had to step away, or I’d freak her out.

“Is there anywhere else he might keep tools?” I asked, withdrawing my hand and looking around. “A closet?” I looked up toward the ceiling. “Maybe an attic?”

“I’ll help you look,” Amber said.

That gave us a chance to separate. And separation was something I needed right now. I needed a little space—just to get my head clear.

As I headed toward the back, though, I glanced over my shoulder at the door. No sign of a fire truck or the sheriff outside. Yeah, it was becoming clear that the alarm was not connected to a monitoring service. No help was coming. I’d have to find a way out on my own.

And in the meantime, I was trapped here with this woman who was gradually taking over all my thoughts. And the part of me that wanted to be her hero was at war with the part of me that wanted to be stuck here with her for the rest of my life.

I wondered which part would win out in the end.