Feisty Firefighters Bundle

“It wasn’t necessary.”

He’d have liked to prove her wrong, right there on the floor of his office. He had no doubt he could do it. She had passion and heat simmering just beneath her surface, all he had to do was set fire to it. The way they kissed, it should only take two seconds.

But he wouldn’t, because he didn’t like how easily he’d come to forgive her, and he sure as hell didn’t like the way he yearned for her, even now. “Even before I knew about Taylor, I wanted to see you again.”

“Of course you did. I slept with you after only knowing you an hour.”

“Are you talking about when we made love?”

“Sex,” she said calmly enough, but the words came out her teeth. “We had sex.”

“That’s not how I remember it.” He smiled wickedly, figuring her imagination could taunt her with exactly what he was remembering. It would serve her right, since he’d been doing nothing but remembering.

“I acted cheaply. I don’t like thinking about it.”

“Cheap?” he asked incredulously, oddly hurt. “That’s the last thing that comes to my mind when I think of that day.” She turned away but he took her arms, forcing her to look at him. “God, Amber, we were terrified. We thought we were going to die. We needed to feel hope. We needed to feel alive, and we did, in each other’s arms. How could you have forgotten all that?”

She might have pushed away, but he held her still. “No, listen to me.” Somehow it had become critical to him that she not regret what they’d shared. “You didn’t betray yourself that day, it just happened. And it was…right. Very right, dammit.”

Her tortured look faded somewhat. “It gave me Taylor,” she said quietly.

“It gave us Taylor,” he corrected. “And I’ll never forget it.”

They stared at each other, so close that he could have leaned forward a fraction and kissed her soft, very kissable lips, but he didn’t. Much as his body ached for hers, she’d burned him before, and he wasn’t interested in getting burned again. “And as for tonight. You’re not taking advantage, I offered. I’ll even bring dinner.”

“Why?”

“You know, all that mistrust is getting really old.”

“I’m not mistrustful.”

He laughed. “Granted, it’s well hidden behind that sophisticated, sleek business front, but it’s there.”

“Why are you bringing me dinner?”

“See? Right there. Mistrust.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m bringing dinner because I’ll be hungry.”

“Oh.” She thought about it and started to give him a suspicious look, which she quickly squelched. “I suppose that would be all right.”

“Good.” He’d have shown up whether she liked it or not. If he knew his little daughter, and he was beginning to know her quite well, he figured Amber hadn’t had a hot meal or a decent night’s sleep in over three months. That was going to change.

“Go on,” he said, pulling her up, nudging her to the door. “We’ll see you later.” Then he ushered her out before she could gather her wits to resist, which he knew she would have done if she hadn’t been dead on her feet.

When she was gone, Dax turned to Taylor, hands on hips, a mock frown on his face. “You’ve been tiring out your parents,” he said, picking her up and holding her close.

Taylor gummed a wet smile.

“It’s got to stop. You hear me?”

She let out a sweet little giggle.

Dax kissed her noisily, making her wriggle with delight, which in turn warmed his heart in ways he’d never imagined.

He couldn’t fathom being without her.

He was beginning to understand he felt the same way about her mother.

DAX ARRIVED at Amber’s condo at exactly 7:07 p.m. with Taylor in one arm and dinner in the other. Not that Amber had been pacing, watching the clock for the past hour and a half.

She reached for Taylor and squeezed her so tight the baby mewled in protest. Amber couldn’t help herself; she’d missed Taylor so much. She kissed the baby’s nose and then her face, and then nearly leaped out of her skin at the sexy, unbearably familiar voice behind her.

“I’ll take one of those.”

Slowly, she turned. “You’ll take one of what?”

“A kiss.”

Her tummy fluttered. “Hmph.”

He grinned, and the butterflies in her stomach took wing. What was it about him? He should have hated her. Or at the very least, still been furious. That he wasn’t, and that he looked at her in a way that both confused her and made her…hot, was greatly disturbing.

“Hungry?” he asked, lifting a bag from a local deli.

“It’s my father’s birthday,” she said slowly, her mouth watering at the smell coming from the brown bag. “I was going to call him.”

“Call him. See if he’ll join us.”

He wouldn’t, Amber knew that. But she found she couldn’t admit any such thing to Dax. So, as he watched her with that quiet intensity of his, she picked up the phone and dialed the number.

“Hello, Dad,” she said calmly when her father answered, as if her heart hadn’t leaped into her throat at the sound of his voice after so long. “I wanted to wish you happy birthday.”

Her voice was steady. Steady was important, even if she was so nervous she felt as though she might shatter at any moment. “I was also hoping you’d come for dinner and meet your granddaughter.”

“Not likely,” came the voice that had ruled her childhood. “Not when her mother is a slut.”

Dax moved closer, but she held the phone tight to her ear so he couldn’t hear. “I’m sorry you’re still upset with me, but there’s no need for it.” She hesitated, then said softly, “I’m not like Mom. Really, I’m not.”

“Did you marry that baby’s father?”

“M-marry?” She glanced at Dax over her shoulder and found him still looking right at her. “Uh…no.” With a carefully blank face, she pointed to the living room, gesturing him away. Anywhere, as long as he was far from her and this conversation.

Dax just settled back and lifted a brow.

With a sound of impatience, Amber covered the phone. “Go,” she whispered.

“Maybe I should have extended the invite,” he murmured. And then he grabbed the phone right out of her hands.

“Give that back!”

“Not yet.” He held the phone out of her reach before bringing the receiver to his ear. He had to use his other hand to hold Amber off, but he did so with no problem, slipping one strong, warm arm around her. His forearm banded across her back, his fingers came to just above her rib cage, holding her stronger than a vise.

All she could think was that his fingers were pressed against the curve of her breast. Unbelievably, because she hated being restrained, her nipples tightened. Her breath quickened.

As if he could tell, Dax looked down into her face, his own breath coming a little faster.

“Give me the phone, Dax,” she murmured.

His fingers spread wide and brushed the underside of her left breast.

She melted a little. “Now.”

He shook his head. “Hello,” he said politely into the phone, his fingers driving her to distraction. “I’m Daxton McCall, Taylor’s father.”

Amber groaned. Her father had never approved of her, and this wasn’t going to help. He was convinced she led a wild, out-of-control lifestyle, and very likely, this conversation would confirm it.

She shouldn’t care that she disappointed him, but she did, and still, to this day, wished she could make