Feisty Firefighters Bundle

appointment, and she hated that. She was never late, yet here she was racing through the parking lot with baby Taylor in her arms and a huge diaper bag hanging off her shoulder, hitting her with each stride.

If she’d gotten up on time, she chided herself, she wouldn’t be rushing now. But she was always so tired lately. It was all the change, she decided. Becoming a mother. Coming back to town after a yearlong…what?

What did one call it when a person ran away from her job, her home, her life?

A vacation, she reminded herself firmly. She’d never in her life taken one, certainly she’d been entitled. Just because she’d taken it immediately following the earthquake didn’t mean it had anything to do with the choices she’d made.

Neither did one rugged, sexy, unforgettable Dax McCall.

Nope.

God, what a liar she was. The cooing sound stopped her cold. Staring down into her daughter’s face, her heart simply tipped on its side.

Baby-blue eyes stared back at her. So had a kissable button nose, two chubby cheeks and the sweetest little mouth.

Love swamped her. Amber had never imagined herself a mother, but Taylor was the greatest thing that had ever happened to her, and looking into that precious face, she had absolutely no choice but to smile.

In response, Taylor let out an ear-splitting squeal and grinned, while cheerfully, uncontrollably waving her arms.

Amber’s heart twisted again and she bent, touching her nose to Taylor’s. “You are the sweetest baby that ever lived,” she whispered fiercely. “I love you.”

Taylor drooled, making Amber smile again, though her smile was bittersweet this time. Taylor was her family, her life, her everything. They were alone together.

And together the two of them would be just fine.

That’s what Amber repeated to herself as she strode breathlessly to the elevator and hit the button for the second floor. It didn’t matter that they were unwanted-Amber by her father, Taylor by hers.

They would survive.

As she waited, she smiled at her daughter and wondered for the thousandth time if Taylor had her daddy’s eyes. Were the light, crystal clear baby blues, the kind one could drown in, from Dax?

It still hurt, the not knowing. She’d tried, she reassured herself. The day after the earthquake, after she’d made the rash decision to go to Mexico for an extended vacation that had turned into a yearlong leave of absence, she’d attempted to see Dax.

In spite of her embarrassment at having to face the man she’d thrown herself at, she’d wanted to thank him for saving her life, for she held no illusions. She never would have survived without him, without his quick thinking and razor-sharp instincts, without his warm, safe arms and incredibly soothing voice.

She had no idea where he lived, but knew that as a fire inspector, he had to work out of the main fire house downtown. Somehow she’d summoned her courage to thank him in person, but when she’d gotten there, most of her bravery had faded in the face of reality.

She’d found him all right. He’d been in the break room with one of the firefighters. A woman. And they’d been laughing and teasing and flirting.

She’d prepared herself for anything, anything but that. Standing in the doorway watching, yearning, she thought she’d never seen anyone so open, so absolutely full of life.

He was definitely far more man than she was equipped to handle, and with her words of thanks stuck in her throat, she’d turned tail and run. Not exactly mature, but it was done. To make up for her silliness, she’d sent a thank-you card and flowers before she’d left town.

It hadn’t been until later, much later, that she’d discovered her condition.

Her pregnant condition.

The elevator doors of the medical building opened and Amber got on, straightening her shoulders and hugging Taylor close. To her credit, she had indeed again tried to reach Dax, and at that memory, she reddened with embarrassment.

She’d called his office from Mexico, not wanting anything from him, just needing to tell him. She figured she owed him that. He had a right to know.

He’d been in Montana, helping to fight the out-of-control range fires there. She’d left a message with an unsympathetic secretary, explaining where she was and only that she needed to talk to Dax.

He hadn’t returned the call.

She understood. He’d moved on.

Yet whatever his faults, he’d once been compassionate and caring to her, and because of that, he needed to hear the truth from her own lips. In person. Though it had been easier to hide all this time, she couldn’t continue it.

He had to know about Taylor.

And he would, she promised herself, now that she was back in town-just as soon as she figured out how to do it right.

The elevator doors opened and she entered a huge reception area, filled with women; young and old, sick and healthy, and very pregnant. Most had little children with them. Resigned to a long wait, Amber signed in and stood there, surveying the grumpy crowd, trying to find an empty seat. In her arms, a wide-awake Taylor shifted, stared at all the chaos around her, and let out a happy little gurgle.

“Glad someone’s so cheery,” Amber said with a helpless laugh. She dropped the heavy diaper bag to the floor and sighed in relief at the loss of the weight. Another grateful sigh came when she sank into an empty chair. Sitting had never felt so good.

But then, from across the room, a sea of waiting people between them, stood a man. Not just any man, but the one who could stop her heart cold.

Dax McCall.

And, oh God, he was staring right at her. What should she do?

All semblance of control flew out the window. So did reasoning. Sure, she could run, but even if her legs were working, running seemed so undignified. She could lie, but that was no good, either. Not only was she horrible at lying, she could never live with herself.

No, she alone had brought on this awkward situation, she would face it. Easier said than done, she thought wildly, still pierced by Dax’s unwavering, highly personal stare.

For a second she allowed herself to think-hope-he wouldn’t recognize her. After all, the last time he’d seen her, she’d been covered in dirt and debris, battered and afraid, and very unlike herself. And then after that, he’d not returned her call, nor acknowledged her card and flowers.

She should have known better. He recognized her.

Strangely enough, around them life went on. Babies cried, though not Taylor, who was blessedly silent. Parents chatted. Moms-to-be flipped through baby magazines. Medical staff buzzed noisily, going about their rounds and duties.

Amber saw and heard none of it, her gaze held prisoner by Dax’s stare. He was exactly as he’d been in her dreams-tall, powerfully built. Unforgettable. He wore snug, faded jeans that fit his athletic physique, and a plaid flannel shirt, open and untucked over a simple white T-shirt.

Plain clothes, not such a plain man.

It didn’t help that Amber could remember exactly what lay under those clothes. Though she had never actually seen him in all his naked glory, she’d felt him, every single inch, and what magnificent inches they had been. She knew his every muscle intimately, had personally run her hands over those broad shoulders, his wide chest, his flat stomach, those long, tough thighs…and what lay between.

In her mind she was back there, back beneath that desk, hot and panting for him. If she remembered right, and she was horribly certain she did, she’d actually begged him to take her. Begged.

Heat flooded her face and she was thankful he couldn’t read her mind.

Still, he stood there, strong and silent. Charismatic. Even now, as he remained frozen, there were any number of women in the room shooting him frank glances of admiration.

He didn’t appear to notice. In fact, he seemed to notice nothing but her.