The Firefighter's Woman Page 2

  “I’m going to get a soda,” he announced. “You want something?”

  “No, thank you,” she said. “I’m fine.”

  “Okay, I’ll be back,” he smiled.

  Sarah tried for a smile and failed as John stepped out. Truthfully, she was glad for his company. The hour or two she’d been in the hospital had been both scary and lonely. Scary because she’d kept thinking about going home, then remembering that home was broken. Lonely because she’d found herself on the verge of tears and yet crying in a sterile hospital room was the last thing she wanted to do.

  She closed her eyes and tried to get a grip on herself, tried to force the tears down and the fear into the deeper recesses of her body. She managed to compose herself enough that she didn’t feel as though she was going to burst into sobs right away, which was an improvement. Minutes passed and she wondered if John was actually going to come back. She hadn’t been that nice to him, and he must have had a hard night’s work already.

  “Here.”

  Sarah opened her eyes to see a soft toy from the hospital gift shop, a little pink pony. She felt a hint of a smile spreading across her face, but averted disaster by converting it into a scowl almost immediately.

  “A pony?”

  “They had bears, kittens, and ponies. I guessed you were a pony sort of girl,” he smiled.

  “Thanks,” she said in aggrieved tones as she took the toy from him and set it on the little cabinet beside her bed, where it beamed happily at her. “But you don’t have to be nice to me. I don’t need anyone to be nice to me. I’m sure you’ve got family and friends to be with. Go see them.”

  John sat down in the chair that was far too small for him and looked at her, his handsome face assuming an expression of confusion. “Are you angry at me?”

  “Why would I be angry at you?”

  “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “For getting you out of that house before it collapsed, maybe?”

  He was far too close to the truth of the matter for Sarah’s comfort. “Why would I be angry at you for that?”

  “Well,” he said kindly, “that’s the question, isn’t it.”

  “I’m not mad at you,” she lied. “I’m just… my leg hurts. Those butchers stitched me up like a side of meat. And they won’t let me out of here because they want to ‘observe’ me, but I’m fine!”

  “They’re probably worried you might have gotten a knock to the head,” he said. “Your house did fall down around your ears.”

  “Well, I didn’t. And even if I did—I have a hard head.”

  “That, I believe,” he smirked at her. Again a smile rose unbidden to her lips.

  “Thank you,” she said. “For rescuing me. I don’t think I said that yet.”

  “You’re welcome.” His eyes crinkled in a warm smile. He was a very handsome man, a large man from whom care emanated like a force field. She imagined anyone finding themselves caught in that gaze would have a hard time not falling in love with him.

  “Well,” she said, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with her thoughts. “You can go now.”

  “I’d like to stay,” he said, taking her prickliness in stride.

  “You would? Why?”

  “Because I think you need someone with you right now, and I wouldn’t be happy with myself if I left you in a hospital bed all alone.”

  “But you barely know me. You don’t know me at all!”

  “Everybody needs somebody,” he said, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “And maybe I’ll get to know you.”

  She shook her head. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  He didn’t say anything in response to that, just gave her a look that strongly implied he wasn’t going anywhere. Sarah didn’t know what was wrong with this man. Any sane person would have gone and gotten a beer or something by this point rather than spend time around some rude woman they didn’t know.

  “You’re from around here?”

  “I was,” she said curtly. “Not anymore.”

  “How can you not be from a place anymore?”

  “When that place huffs and puffs and blows your house down,” she said. “To hell with this town.” A sudden burst of rage made her push the blanket off her. “To hell with this hospital,” she growled, more to herself than to him. “I’m getting out of here.”

  “Whoa.” He lifted a hand, as if he had some masculine force field that could stop her. “Easy now, you’re not ready to leave yet. You could have a brain injury.”

  “I don’t have a brain injury,” she shot back at him, sitting up. “This is just my personality.”

  He let out a surprised laugh. “I didn’t mean that,” he chuckled. “I mean they’re keeping you in overnight for a reason.”

  “To bill my insurance,” she said. “I’m fine. My foot isn’t even broken. It’s just a little cut up. All I need to get out of here are some clothes that don’t close in the back. Fuck!” She fell back, frustrated. “All my clothes are under rubble now, aren’t they. Of course they are. This is just the sort of thing that would happen to me.”

  “Why don’t you just take it easy,” he suggested.

  She shot him a vehement look. “Yeah, because that’s going to bring my house back, isn’t it. Taking it easy.”

  “Insurance will cover your losses.”

  “Who says I had insurance?”

  “Just a guess,” he said, raising his dark brow at her just a little. “The sort of person who refuses rescue in the middle of a disaster, doesn’t want to stay in the hospital a second longer than she has to, and takes a tornado personally is the sort of person who knows she needs as many fallback positions as she can get. I’d put money on you having insurance on your insurance.”

  Maybe he did know her a little. Or maybe he was just good at guessing things about people.

  “Insurance doesn’t get me a change of clothes,” she complained. She thrust the pink pony back at him. “Tell you what, take this back, swap it for one of those godawful sweatpant suit things they probably have down there, and I’ll pay you back.”

  His smile grew a little thinner as he shook his head. “Tell you what,” he said, tucking the pony in next to her. “You stay in bed, let the doctors and nurses take care of you without giving them any attitude, and I’ll refrain from taking you over my knee and giving you the spanking you need so badly.”

  For a second, Sarah could only stare at him. He’d made a similar threat after he’d pulled her out of the house, but she hadn’t really believed he’d said it. She’d thought she must have misheard him… or maybe she’d just been so stressed that her brain had addled the words.

  “Okay, I must be brain damaged,” she said finally. “Because I could swear you just threatened to…” she hesitated, almost reluctant to say the words that made her want to blush all over, “…spank me.”

  “I did,” he said firmly. “You’re acting like a little brat. Settle down.”

  “Fine for you to say,” she snapped back at him. “Once you’re finished doing your little feel-good hospital visit, I’ll still be stuck here. I don’t want to be here. I want to check out, go to a hotel, take some proper painkillers and chase them with enough vodka that I don’t wake up for a couple of days—and when I do, I won’t remember any of this. That’s what I want.”

  “Are you even old enough to drink?”

  “Yes,” she snapped at him. “I’ve been legal for all of… what time is it?”

  “One a.m.,” he said, checking his watch.

  “I’ve been legal for an hour.”

  “Happy birthday,” he said.

  “Thanks,” she scowled. “Now are you going to do any of what I asked?”

  “Nope.” He remained resolute. “And if you keep it up, you’ll be getting one heck of a birthday spanking.”

  Sarah cut her eyes at him. “I thought you were nice.”

  “I am nice,” he said calmly. “Part of being nice is not letting people hurt themselves just because they’re afraid an
d angry.”

  “I’m not afraid,” she lied yet again. “What I am is a prisoner. If you’re going to help them, you can go. I don’t want you here.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared daggers at him.

  “Is that right? Are you such a spoiled little brat you can’t settle down and just let yourself be taken care of for a little while?”

  “I am not spoiled. Fuck you,” she snarled with real anger. “You don’t know me. You don’t know a goddamn thing about me. You’re just some do-gooding jerk. And I’m out of here.”

  She pushed back the covers, swung her legs out of bed, put her feet to the floor and half-fell over his lap. It was an accident, of course, perpetrated by her stupid lame foot, which was not hurting, but also not working as intended or desired.

  “You really do want a spanking, don’t you?” John drawled above her.

  “Help me get up,” she snapped.

  A sharp slap to her left cheek, exposed thanks to the ridiculous hospital attire she was forced to wear, was his response, followed by a firm, “No.”

  Another slap to her right cheek made her yelp and caused her to realize that he was not at all joking. He clearly thought he had some right to do this to her, though she couldn’t think why.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I told you,” he said simply. “I’m giving you a spanking.” He proved the point by dropping two further swats to her left cheek and two to her right. They were not hard, but they did sting her bottom as well as her pride.

  “I hate to break this to you, cowboy, but this isn’t an old movie. You can’t just take any woman you see over your knee and hit her because she won’t do what you want. It’s not 1950 anymore.”

  Her clever words only earned her another round of swats, six in total, each delivered by a palm almost larger than the cheek it was slapping. He did have very big hands. He had a very big… everything, she imagined, with a little blush that rose in response to an involuntarily naughty thought about the part of his anatomy pressed against her hip.

  “I don’t know who the hell you think you are…”

  She didn’t get any further into that statement before being cut off by a flurry of slaps that made her squeal quite loudly. Far more loudly than anyone really should be squealing in a hospital. Loudly enough that a passing nurse stopped and poked her head into the room.

  “Help!” Sarah tried an appeal to the woman. “This man is…”

  “The patient was trying to discharge herself against medical advice,” John said by way of explanation.

  The arrival of the nurse might have been Sarah’s salvation… if she hadn’t already mouthed off at the woman multiple times since arriving. Sarah had always had a knack for making enemies quickly, and the nurse was clearly no exception.

  “Carry on, sir,” she said, shutting the door.

  “You see, even the nurses know you need this,” he said as the woman left Sarah to her fate over his thighs.

  “This isn’t fair!” Sarah’s voice cracked with frustration. “You’re doing this because you want me to stay in the hospital. And I have to stay here because I might have a head injury, so you said… right?”

  “Right…”

  “So what is it you’re doing now, punishing a brain-damaged victim of a natural disaster?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with your mind,” he chuckled, spanking her lightly. Even without any real pain involved, it was an incredibly embarrassing position to be in. Sarah wriggled quite furiously to try to stand up, but John wasn’t going to allow that to happen until he’d made his point. His arm was like an iron band around her waist, clinching her tight against his broad muscular thighs. She had never been in contact with such a large man before; more wall than man, really.

  “Are you going to settle down and let me put you back into bed?”

  “I’m allowed to discharge myself if I like,” she argued.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” he said, slapping her bottom once more. The sting was reaching a very uncomfortable point that made her feel as though she’d recently sat on a porcupine.

  “You can’t keep hitting me forever,” she pointed out pragmatically. “So what are you going to do when you realize this doesn’t make a difference?”

  “I think it’s already made a difference,” he replied. “You’ve stopped calling me names and you’re thinking a little more rationally to try to argue your way out of this. Now will you get back into bed?”

  “It’s my birthday,” she complained. “I should be out having fun. Instead my house fell on my head and now I’m stuck in the hospital.”

  She felt his palm pass over her still very bare bottom.

  “Okay,” he said. “I guess this isn’t much fun for you, is it?”

  “No,” she said. “It’s no fun at all.”

  “Alright,” he said. “I’ll help you get out of here on one condition.”

  “Anything!” Sarah agreed quickly.

  He palmed her bottom, his warm hand cupping her hot round ass as Sarah squirmed. “You come and get a beer with me.”

  “Seriously? That’s the deal?” Sarah could not believe her luck.

  “You want to take it?”

  “Hell, yes!”

  Chapter Three

  Sarah looked a lot happier sitting upright on a barstool, and cute as hell even though she was wearing sweatpants and a sweater that didn’t match and were several sizes too big. Her dark blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail and the bottle of beer was pressed firmly to her lips as she took a long swig.

  “This might be the first day you’ve been legally allowed to, but that’s not your first drink, is it.”

  Sarah smiled and shook her head. “Not exactly.” Her blue eyes slid toward him. “Are you going to spank me for that too?”

  “No point spanking you retroactively when there’s plenty to spank you for right now.” He winked back at her and chuckled as her eyes narrowed and a blush rose to her cheeks. She’d quite liked being over his lap, he was sure of it. And he was just as sure she’d never admit it.

  “Thanks for the beer,” she said, changing the subject. “I needed this.”

  “It’s got to be about the worst birthday, I guess, having your house be hit by a tornado.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head quickly. “This isn’t the worst birthday I’ve had. Not by a long way.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” she said, her eyes sliding back to her beer, her fingernail picking at the label. “I don’t really want to talk about it. Just take it from me, I’ve had plenty of birthdays that sucked.”

  He believed her. They were written all over her face. She was young and she was pretty and she should have been carefree. It was her birthday. She should have been out with a gaggle of girlfriends laughing, drinking, and getting themselves into trouble, flirting with frat boys. Instead she was sulking next to him.

  “Well, maybe this is the last one that will suck,” he said, reaching out to pat her on the back. She gave a wry smile.

  “I doubt it, but thanks.” She let out a little sigh. “It just seems to keep getting worse. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “I do.”

  She half-smiled, half-scowled at him. “You know what I’m going to do?”

  “You’re going to come and stay with me,” he said. “I’ve got a two-bedroom place, that’s one bedroom more than I need. You’re more than welcome to stay in it until you get back on your feet.”

  Sarah looked at him with suspicion glittering in her gaze. “Uh huh. What’s the catch?”

  “The catch?” He had to think about that. “Well, I guess, if there is a catch, it’s that acting like a brat will get you spanked again. Aside from that, no catch.”

  “Oh, so staying in your house means you get to…” she glanced around and lowered her voice to a hiss, “spank me? What kind of BS is that, John?”

  “You’re worried you’ll deserve a spanking and get one,” he said, gr
inning.

  “No, I’m worried that you have some ideas out of a bygone era which make you think you have some right to punish women…”

  “Not women. You.”

  “Oh, me. The woman you didn’t even know until about five hours ago.”

  “You’re just that badly in need of discipline, I guess.”

  *

  Sarah stared at him. John made no apologies for what he was, or what he was saying. He wasn’t that old; she guessed he was maybe starting to push thirty. And yet for reasons she didn’t understand, he seemed to have gotten his personality from another era. John was an old-fashioned man who believed in discipline and taking care of the fairer sex, and she was one he’d happened to have taken pity on.

  “I’m surprised you don’t have your extra bedroom stuffed with waifs and strays already,” she said, draining the very last dregs of her beer. One really wasn’t enough, but she figured she’d be pushing it if she asked him to buy her another beer on top of everything else he was already doing for her.

  “So what do you say?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, her survival instincts kicking in. “I mean, it’s nice of you to offer and all, but you don’t know me and I don’t know you and my mother said never to stay at the houses of strange men…”

  “Well,” he said, nodding. “Under ordinary circumstances, I’d take you back to your place, but your place isn’t exactly fit for habitation at the moment. You’ve not tried to call any friends since we got here, so I’m guessing you won’t be trying to stay with one of them. Unless you want to spend tonight alone in a hotel, my place is the only option.”

  “I guess,” she said. “Thank you. For the offer. But I don’t want you getting any funny ideas. I’ll stay tonight. I’ll crash on your couch and tomorrow morning I’ll go and see about sorting out somewhere more permanent. I don’t want to impose.”

  “You’ll have to sleep in the spare bedroom,” he said. “The couch is already taken.”

  “By who?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Chapter Four