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Rinsing the chickpeas, Jack said, “You don’t have to talk with Autumn unless you
want to. As a matter of fact, I’m the only one who consented to talk about Ground Zero.”
Silence held sway over the room for a moment as Jack stirred the chickpeas into the
skillet with the chicken and turned the heat down to simmer.
Ray looked around the corner seconds later. “Smells good. What is it?”
Jack’s lips twitched. “Slop on a stick.”
“Yum.” Ray grinned. “Looking forward to it. You’ve got a phone call, Jack. Want
me to take a message?”
“I’ll get it.” Jack handed Hank the spoon. “Stir. Keep it low and don’t do anything
else, or I’ll have to kill you.”
Hank saluted. “Yes, sir.”
Jack left the kitchen for the back office, grabbing the phone Ray had put on the desk.
“Jack Dillon.”
A woman’s sexy, smooth voice purred over the phone line. “Mr. Dillon, this is
Miranda Butterfield from KTMM in Billings.”
Jack had listened to the station before on the way through Billings. He also had a
sneaking suspicion why this woman wanted to talk to him. “What can I do for you, Ms.
Butterfield?”
Ms. Butterfield’s voice turned perky. “Have you ever heard my morning features
show?”
“No, can’t say that I have.”
“Too bad. Well, out there in Clifton you only have two country radio stations, right?”
A twinge of resentment built inside him. He preferred jazz and rock music over
country, but had nothing against country music per se. “One country station, one oldies,
and one rock station.”
“Oh, I see.” She breezed ahead. “In any case, Mr. Dillon, we at KTMM have a
proposal for you. We heard about your heroic efforts at the nightclub fire, and we want to
interview you. We also learned you participated in cleanup efforts at Ground Zero.”
Damn it. He didn’t like the sound of this at all. “I don’t think I’d be interested, Ms.
Butterfield.”
“But people are so fascinated by what you experienced. You’re quite the celebrity all
of a sudden.”
His patience wore down at the same moment tightness stretched across the muscles
between his shoulder blades. “I don’t think people are as interested as the media likes to
imagine. I appreciate your consideration, but the answer is no.”
A sigh spilled over the line. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, they hung up.
Chapter Twelve
Autumn looked up at the old brick firehouse. Mellow light from the fading sun
turned the bricks red. Built in 1905, this building was the first firehouse in the newly
founded Clifton. Over the years the structure was expanded to keep up with the
requirements of the community. Since 1905, four more firehouses had sprung up within
the district. Jack’s father had worked here until his death and so had her father.
Autumn walked inside, not sure where to go. Though she’d been in a fire station
many times, something about entering this one made her feel as if she was intruding. She
didn’t understand the feeling, and she didn’t want to decipher it right now. She’d called
Chief Hallam earlier in the day to confirm the appointment. The Chief explained since he
had several unexpected things he needed to accomplish today, Jack would be the only
one she would interview.
Nervous, she hesitated near a ladder truck. Her purse and briefcase felt like lead
weights. Deciding that taking in the lay of the land might calm her, she walked deeper
into the building. She caught the distinctive scent of wax and all the engines looked spit
shined. The entire place appeared organized.
A firefighter stopped to ask if he could help her, and she explained she was there to
see Jack. Quicker than she expected, he strode around the engine, a ready grin on his
face. His eyes sparkled, and her heart leapt at the sight of him. She shoved back the
emotion.
“Hi, Jack. I’m a bit early, so if you have things to take care of, I can wait.”
“I want to talk to you before dinner. In fact, you have some explaining to do before
this interview goes forward. If it goes forward.”
He gently took her by the elbow and marched her back toward an unoccupied
windowless office, closing the door with a definitive thud and locking the door.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, worried.
He didn’t offer her a seat; instead he stared down at her from close range. Before she
could react, he slipped his arms around her and drew her close. He pressed a hot,
devouring kiss to her lips. She moaned softly, shocked and wildly aroused. Need spiraled
through her body. His tongue plunged deep and without mercy, stroking inside with pure
sexual intent. He slipped one leg between hers until her womanhood rubbed against his
hard thigh.
She tore her mouth from his, her breath coming fast, her pulse pounding. “Jack. This
isn’t exactly a good idea.”
“Yeah, it is. I needed to kiss you, and I figured I’d take advantage before you could
think of some reason to keep your distance.”
Disturbed by his perception, she slowly pushed free from his embrace. She plastered
on a smile. “I don’t know what you mean.” [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]