Never Too Hot (Hot Shots: Men of Fire #3)(56)
Author: Bella Andre

“So that’s why you’re here.”

“Not having a job made it easier to come,” he agreed, “but I already told you why I’m here. My son needed me.”

“Must be nice coming in and playing hero.”

Her words hit too close to home for Andrew’s comfort and he opened his mouth to argue, but instead found himself saying, “I haven’t done any manual labor in thirty years. My body is killing me. Working out five days a week at the gym does nothing to prepare you to hammer nails for eight hours straight.”

“You used to love hammering nails.”

It struck him, powerfully, that only Isabel knew that about him. “You’re right. I did. And I’m learning to again.” He nodded toward the Hobart. “I don’t know if dish washing has quite the same magic, but just using my hands again is good. Regardless of what I’m using them for.”

She turned away quickly, but not before he saw the way her skin had started to flush, the way she’d quickly sucked in a breath. God, he wanted so badly to pull her into him. To run his hands through her hair, over her skin.

But it was too soon. He could see the truth of it even through the force of his desire. He needed to leave before he did something stupid, but at the same time he had to make sure he could see her again.

“Do you have anyone lined up for dinner?”

He could tell she didn’t want to answer, saw how much she hated saying, “No, I don’t.”

“What time should I be here?”

She picked up a knife, ran it under water, then wiped it off with a clean cloth. “Five thirty.”

He took the light glinting off the stainless steel blade as his cue to leave.

“Don’t be late. And don’t think that just because I’m letting you wash my dishes means I’ve forgiven you.”

“I won’t,” he said to the first, even as he hoped he could change the second.

Three hours later, after running a whole host of errands in town on foot, even though it was another cool and windy day, by the time Isabel got back to the restaurant she couldn’t wait to get out of her sweater and coat. If her hot flashes got any worse she’d need to spend the entire afternoon in the walk-in refrigerator.

No, she thought, as she laid out a half-dozen orange and yellow bell peppers, there really was no point in lying to herself.

Andrew had done this to her. He had made her hot all over. That afternoon she’d actually wished for one stupid second that he’d just stop talking, stop letting her tell him to stay the hell away, and take her right there on the stainless steel counter.

It shouldn’t have softened her to see him standing at the dishwasher, wearing the thick plastic apron, the big yellow gloves, but it had. And knowing he’d be back any minute now to do it all again — to save her ass — only set her nerves more on edge.

And filled her with sick anticipation.

The only way she could protect herself was to keep being suspicious of his motives, to look for the real meaning behind his smooth words.

Planning to grill the peppers, she turned on the gas on her stove and picked up her lighter, flicking it over the gas. The flames jumped higher than she expected and she was about to take a step back when strong hands wrapped around her waist, hoisting her out of the way.

She’d know Andrew’s touch anywhere. She’d never had such an intense reaction to anyone else, been covered in goose bumps at the same time her insides were burning up.

She whirled out of his arms, even though everything in her wanted to lean in closer.

“What the hell are you doing?”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. “You need to be more careful.”

Well, he wasn’t the only one who was angry. “This is my f**king restaurant. You don’t think I know how to operate my own stove?”

“Jesus, Isabel. Those flames were only an inch from your face. You could have gotten burned.”

She opened her mouth to tell him where he could stick it, when his words finally penetrated her brain.

Burned. He’d been afraid she was going to get burned. Like his son.

“Seeing your son get burned. I can’t imagine what that must have felt like,” she said before she could pull the words back.

He blinked at her as if he’d only just realized how extreme his reaction had been to her lighting the gas ring.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I overreacted.”

She started to reach out to him, and it was only at the last second that she stopped.

One touch, a split second of skin on skin, wouldn’t be enough.

“It’s just that ever since Connor’s accident-”

He swallowed hard and she saw all the love — all the fear he’d felt for his son — imprinted in the lines on his face.

“I can’t stand fires. Any kind of fire. Fireplaces. Fire pits. Even seeing people’s campfires glowing across the lake gets to me.”

“That makes perfect sense.”

“I wasted so much time, Isabel. I should have come here with Connor and Sam when they were kids. Should have been out there teaching them to sail instead of leaving it to my parents to show them how great the lake was.”

She didn’t know what to say, not when she’d been selfishly glad he hadn’t come. How could she have possibly faced seeing Andrew every summer with a wife and kids?

“You’re here now.”

“I’m afraid it might already be too late, though.”

“Then try again. And keep trying. Because that’s what parents do. Even when our kids act like they don’t want or need our love, that’s when they need it the most. So stop worrying about yourself, stop worrying about how you feel for once. And just do what you need to do for him.”

“Thank you for reminding me,” he said softly and Isabel instantly saw that she’d just jumped in so much deeper than she should have.

“I need to get ready to open.”

He nodded, moved back to the dish-washing station without another word. But she already knew it was only a temporary reprieve.

Fortunately, the diner had been incredibly busy and Isabel had no choice but to keep on task. The only problem was that she couldn’t possibly tell Andrew to go home early. But even though she wasn’t alone in the kitchen with him — Caitlyn and Scott plus two of her waitstaff were all there — he remained far too close for her comfort.

After plating her final order, she pushed out the back door, desperate for some air. The wind had picked up and she was wearing only a T-shirt, but she welcomed the chill.

Walking through the parking lot toward the water, she saw a young couple kissing and stopped cold. That was her son. And the blond girl he’d gone off to the movies with just a few days ago.

She didn’t notice Andrew was beside her until he said, “Can you believe that’s how young we were when we met?”