Feisty Firefighters Bundle

“Sure it is. You just say, ‘I do.”’

She stared at him, and incredibly, he found himself wishing she’d come to him months ago. He would have been so thrilled to see her. He would have drawn her close for a hug and probably never let her go.

But marriage? His stomach cramped at the thought. Yet how else to resolve this? He hated the thought of Taylor feeling illegitimate. Hated the thought of being separated from her after he’d just discovered her. “If we were married, then neither of us would have to be away from Taylor. Seems logical to me.”

She gave a short, amazed laugh. “Logical.”

“More than the alternative anyway. I just found out I have a daughter, Amber. I can’t turn my back on her. Or, for some reason, you.”

“I’m not an obligation.”

“No,” he said softly, thinking of the life-altering experience they’d shared. “You’re not.”

“Dax…”

Again, that thing shimmered between them. Heat. Passion. Need. But it annoyed him, and if he was truthful, it also scared him. “Look, it’s simple. Yes or no.”

“You’re serious,” she breathed, then she shook her head. “No.” Her shoulders straightened. “I won’t marry for anything less than…” She looked down at her hands, which were tightly clenched. She opened them, let them fall to her sides. “I am not going to marry a stranger.”

“We stopped being strangers the day of the quake, when we spent hours in each other’s arms, terrified, waiting to die.”

“I don’t usually act like that. I never act like that.”

Dax thought it was a shame, but she didn’t relent and he let out a sound of frustration. “Look, we’re parents. Together. We can’t be strangers, even if we wanted to be.”

“The answer is still no.”

“Fine. You don’t want to get married.” He wouldn’t admit his disappointment because he couldn’t believe he felt it in the first place. But neither could he ignore the feeling that, despite her calm control, she was frightened of him.

Much as he wanted to hold onto his anger and resentment, it was hard in the face of that.

“I intend to be a father. A good one. I want my daughter. Just as you do. We’re adults. We can share.”

She nearly sagged with what could only be described as profound relief. “You want to share her?”

For some reason that made him mad all over again. Dammit, he wasn’t the one who should have to prove his trustworthiness! “Hell, yes, I want to share.”

“You’re not going to fight for custody?”

“Do I need to?”

His tightly spoken words stabbed through Amber. He stood there looking so certain, so fierce. She hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected him to actually want Taylor as much as she did.

But she’d been in business a long time, and what she hadn’t learned there, she’d learned from her father. Bottom line, she knew how to win a deal. Start out asking for the moon. Take all if you can. Settle for less only if you have to. “I want Taylor with me.”

“Sure.” He nodded agreeably. Even sent her a smile that could steal the breath from a nun. “Half the time.”

Her stomach twisted. “But-”

“Stop,” he said firmly, in that voice of rough velvet. Closing the distance between them, he touched her arms, slid his big, warm hands over her skin. Immediately, heat flooded her. Her body remembered his touch vividly, had craved it nearly every night since that time she’d first experienced it. The sensation of being this close to him again was so overpowering, she had to close her eyes for a moment, or reveal everything she felt.

“Look at me.”

Shocked at the command, she did.

“I understand you think we’re strangers,” he said. “And there’s a real fear in that. I’m not going to kid you. This isn’t going to be easy, we’re going to have to work hard. Together.”

Amber tried not to panic at the thought of what getting to know him would entail. Intimacy-and she wasn’t thinking of sex, but the other aspects-all of which terrified her.

With surprising gentleness, he slid his fingers up and down her arms. “I have the feeling you think I’m out to hurt you, or trick you. I’m not into games, Amber. You’ve been hurt before, maybe so much so that you feel you can’t trust me…” He paused, studying her when she was unable to maintain eye contact.

“I see,” he said quietly. He spoke huskily, as if he cared, and it hurt to hear it because she knew all too well how little she deserved his kindness.

“I’m not like him,” he told her, his hands still on her. “The ex-fiance, or whoever hurt you.”

He remembered. She couldn’t believe he remembered so much about her.

“I’m not trying to frighten you, or threaten. I’m not going to bully you. But Amber-” He lifted her chin. “That baby is mine, and I plan on being a damn good father. We can do this and make it work. Together. It would be good. But it’s together. That’s the key.”

God, that voice. It brought her back to the terrifying magical time she spent with him, a time she could never forget because she’d felt so safe and warm and…wanted.

Unbelievably, she felt wanted now.

“It has to have been hard to do this all alone,” he murmured. “She’s a little handful. You must be exhausted. Wouldn’t some help be nice? From someone with as big a stake as you?”

Amber felt a tiny seed of long-dead hope take root. Was it possible he could forgive her? That maybe he could want her as much as he wanted Taylor? That he could grow to love and care for her as well as Taylor, the real her, the way no one else ever had?

She allowed herself to think about it. To consider it. To dream.

“We’ll make up a schedule,” he said, dropping his hands and stepping back. “That’s the easiest way, unless you have a better idea.”

“A schedule?”

“It’s the civil servant in me.” He flashed a surprisingly self-deprecating smile. “I like routine.”

“I don’t understand.”

“To divide Taylor between us so there’s no problem.”

“Divide her,” she repeated inanely, her stomach dropping to the ground.

“I don’t plan on being a weekend dad, Amber. I’m willing to share, but we do it equally.”

Well what did she expect? She’d turned down his marriage proposal. But still, the hope within her died a cruel death. He wanted Taylor, not her mother. Amber lifted her chin, because no matter what he said, she could depend on no one, no one but herself. “Fine. We share.”

“Equally.”

Oh, God. She was actually going to have to do this, give him Taylor. Her eyes burned, threatened to flood. “I said fine.”

“Good.”

She needed him gone. “You can start tomorrow. Bring your schedule if you must, but for now, for today, she’s mine alone. I don’t want to share my day.”

Dammit, he looked hurt again. “It doesn’t have to be so cut-and-dried.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Why?”

Because she knew nothing else. “All we’re sharing is Taylor. There’s nothing else to worry about. Absolutely nothing.”

“Are you talking about our attraction?”

“There is no attraction. None. None at all.”

His eyes narrowed. “Who are you trying to convince?”

“I’m already convinced.”

He took a step toward her and she fought against instinct and stood still.

“So you look at me and feel nothing?” he wondered aloud.