Hot Flash

by

Donna Kauffman

Chapter One

"You want me to what?" Ryan Connolly was going to kill Casey Flanagan for planting this lame idea in his sister's oh-so-gorgeous head. He waved a finger in Shea Flanagan's face. "Find yourself another model."

Shea merely smiled that implacable Irish smile that both Flanagans employed to great advantage. Only Ryan had no problem ignoring Casey and his troublemaker grin. Shea, on the other hand, was an entirely different story. It had been a hell of a lot easier to think of her as his best friend's little sister when he and Casey were both obnoxious 10-year-olds whose favorite pastime was hating "cootie-covered" girls. At 27, Ryan no longer hated girls. And he didn't imagine 25-year-old Shea covered in much of anything. Which was precisely why he wasn't going to let her get anywhere near him.

"Come on, Ryan," Shea wheedled. "This is your chance to do something for the community."

Ryan narrowed his gaze. "Silly me. Here I'd been thinking that running in and out of burning buildings, saving people, was doing something for the community." Shea laughed, not put off by his intensity. In fact, nothing he did intimidated her. She was like an exuberant puppy, bouncing along behind him, secure in the knowledge that those around her loved her no matter what they said or how they acted. It was a family thing, he supposed. At least a Flanagan family thing. And hadn't they been the ones to show him what family was?

He sighed. It had been almost 20 years, and he hadn't been all that gracious about it at the time. But the Flanagans taking him in, a homeless eight-year-old, had literally saved his life. Although they'd hate it if they knew how obligated he felt to them, the fact was, he did. And always would. "Okay," he said. "I'll do it."

Shea's blue eyes sparkled as she jumped up. He braced himself. Not for the force of her body colliding with his. He outweighed her by a good 75 pounds. No, he braced himself for an entirely different type of force. The kind a female body could wield over a man with merely the pressure of all those soft curves pressing up against him.

Even bracing for it, he wasn't prepared for the onslaught of what Shea's soft places did to his much harder ones. Some of which were getting harder all the time. If she noticed the strain tightening the skin around his mouth as he fought to get himself under control, she didn't show it. She was too busy gushing.

"I promise you won't regret it. This is such a great project for the kids. In times like this, they need all the role models they can get."

Ryan laughed. "Yeah, right. I'm not any kind of model. Role or otherwise. Come on, Shea," he added, cutting her off before she could argue. "If it weren't for your family, I'd probably have spent my formative years in some juvie facility. Just because they cleaned me up and found me a foster home, doesn't mean I'm some kind of model that kids should look up to. If anyone's a role model, it's your folks, or Bill and Dina for letting your dad talk them into taking on one more foster kid. Listen, maybe this isn't such a —"

Shea shook her head, making those black curls of hers dance. "I think that's exactly what makes you perfect for this calendar. Sure, the Harrisons rode your butt. God knows you didn't make things easy on them." Only her easy laugh kept his skin from coloring in remembered shame. "But you're the one who made something of yourself. You should be proud of that. I know they would be. When these kids hear your story, about —"

"Whoa, whoa, wait just a minute. I thought you said I just had to pose for a few pictures — in full gear," he pointedly reminded her, just in case she was having the same problems imagining him naked that he did with her. He should be so lucky. No, strike that. If he thought Shea had even remotely similar fantasies…well, he didn't think he'd survive it. And if Casey found out, he was certain he wouldn't. Casey would lay down his life for Ryan, and vice versa, but where Shea was concerned, her brother gave new meaning to the term "overprotective."

"You weren't listening," Shea said. "Yes, it's a couple of shots of you with your gear and the trucks. I was thinking we could get Barney in some of them, too." She smiled down at Engine 41's mascot, a mongrel that couldn't look less like a Dalmatian, who was currently curled up at her feet.

She looked back at Ryan, her expression all affectionate humor and warmth, and he swore his heart stumbled in his chest. Christ, she'd been here less than 10 minutes and he was already losing what little control he had. This was precisely why he avoided her whenever possible. He needed all the control he could muster just to survive the weekly dinners at the Flanagan house. Now he was literally signing on to have her around.

"But you also have to do a little interview." She raised her hand, cutting him off this time. "Just a brief question and answer thing, so the kids can learn why you decided to become a firefighter. You know, who influenced you as a kid, that kind of thing. Painless, I promise," she assured him with a beaming smile.

Painless. If she only knew how uncomfortable the fit of his jeans was at the moment. He silently begged the station buzzer to go off. A three alarm fire would be more than welcome at the moment.

"When can we get this over with?"

"Gee," she said dryly, "your enthusiasm is overwhelming." She leaned forward, which had the unfortunate effect — one Ryan knew she was oblivious to — of pushing her small, but nicely rounded breasts full up against the silky T-shirt she wore. "But since you're ready and willing —"

And close enough to me to be a sister. Fat lot of good that was doing to stifle his wayward hormones. He was pretty sure Morelli would understand perfectly.

She brushed off her jeans, then adjusted the fit of her bra. Right there. In front of him. Like he was Casey…or…or her mother, or something equally harmless. Jesus.

She shot him a grin. "Well, I suppose age makes no difference when it's about the opposite sex. So I might as well use it to my advantage, right?"

Ryan couldn't answer. He was too busy clawing his libido out of his throat. He watched her walk into Morelli's office, thinking his sense of obligation was actually more dangerous than his job.

Chapter Two

She simply had to stop picturing him naked.

This is a calendar for schoolchildren. Shea Flanagan shouldn't have to keep reminding herself. But staring through the lens at a carefully, if grudgingly, posed Ryan Connolly brought all sorts of images to mind. Images that would be more appropriate for boudoir photography.

"Come on, Shea," he prodded. "I haven't got all day here."

"Take your time, Ms. Flanagan," Captain Morelli assured her with a smile. "We want to show our department at its finest."

The rest of Engine 41's crew heartily agreed. They whistled and clapped, tossing out a few catcalls as well. All of which had Ryan shooting daggers at her.

"I can't shoot with you looking so fierce." Shea should feel sorry for him, but she was too busy enjoying every second. "Turn your chin like I showed you." He just scowled. She sighed and stepped out from behind her tripod. Shaking her head, she walked to him. "If you keep jutting your chin out, the light won't hit it right. We don't have much light left, so help me out, will ya?"

"Just take the damn picture, Shea," he grumbled. "This has already turned into a circus."

She merely took his chin between her fingers and moved it back to where she'd put it not 30 seconds ago. "Right there. Don't move." She saw his throat work as he drilled her with that incredible clear green gaze of his. She had to fight not to draw her fingers slowly along his jaw and over those lips. They both gave new meaning to the term chiseled. She walked back to her camera before he could read her reaction. Not that he'd do anything about it even if he did. She was Casey's little sister and therefore, in his twisted male code of friendship ethics, off limits.

"Well," she murmured as she framed the shot, adjusted the shutter speed. "I'm not so little anymore, Ryan Connolly." And no matter what Casey thought, he didn't dictate who she saw. Naked or otherwise. She brought him into focus. Damn if he didn't make her heart just trip all over itself. Always had. "Don't move. Hold it, hold it, and…" She snapped several shots. "Got it!"

Just then the alarm went off, half scaring her to death. Ryan, on the other hand, looked relieved.

Morelli stopped him. "Stay and finish this, Connolly."

"It's my rotation, sir."

Shea had to hide her smile at the pleading "please save me" tone in his voice.

The captain shook his head. "You know how much community service means to me." He sent a wink toward Shea, then leaned closer to Ryan. "Besides, you know we're angling for more funding in this year's budget. Good press won't hurt. So buck up and answer the call. We'll handle this run without you."

"Yes, sir," Ryan responded, only his clenched jaw giving away his displeasure with the order.

Shea moved out of the way as three of the trucks rolled out and hit the streets, lights flashing and sirens screaming. Once the sound had faded, she turned back to Ryan. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not."

She grinned. "You're right. And so was Morelli. Suck it up for the team, Connolly."

His eyes flashed just then and Shea could have sworn there was something very…carnal in that look. Nonsense. He never thought of her that way. It was only her own overblown imagination at work. Or wishful thinking. Or both. She took in a steadying breath and pasted a not-quite-as-steady smile on her face. "I'd like to get a few of you in the truck. Maybe we could get the dog in these."

Ryan held her gaze a split second longer. Just as she began to question whether she had, in fact, been imagining things, he turned abruptly away. He whistled and Barney came trotting over, all wagging tail and slobbery grin.

"I know how you feel, pal," Shea muttered to herself. What had been up with that look anyway? But there was no time for analysis. The light was fading fast. "Okay," she said, walking over to him. "How about you open the door, start to climb in and freeze right —" she grabbed his hips as he went to climb into the cab, stopping him with one foot still on the step "— there. Look over your left shoulder…" She dropped her hands, palms suddenly sweaty, when he did just that. "Smile like you don't hate this," she said a bit shakily. "Pretend I'm Pamela Anderson or something."

"Blondes don't do it for me."

The tone had her glancing at his face again. She was going to pose his arm right and adjust his chin — again — but there was something too direct in his gaze. At the moment, touching him didn't seem wise. She turned to the dog instead. "Okay, Barney, here's your big moment." She shuffled him past Ryan, up into the cab so he got on the seat. She ran back to her camera, set the shot as quickly as possible, then snapped her fingers over her head. "Barney!" The dog turned his head, Ryan pasted on a smile and a series of clicks later, it was all over. "We're done."

Ryan relaxed, then caught an exuberant Barney as he tumbled from the cab into Ryan's arms. Laughing, he turned and dumped the dog gently to the ground before glancing up at Shea, who was busy snapping away.

"I thought you said we were done."

"Sometimes the best shots are the ones that aren't posed," she told him. Which was true. However, she knew these were for her own personal pleasure. Ryan, the way he normally was. Smiling, laughing, flirting. With everyone but her, that is. Well, that was going to change. If she failed, she failed, but a battle not fought could never be won. She swallowed her impatience and began putting away her gear.

"So, who do I talk to for this interview thing?" he asked.

She closed the lid of her last camera case and screwed down her tripod. "Me."

"But you're a photographer, not a journalist."

She smiled and handed him one of her bags. "Carry this out for me, will ya?" She felt him fall into step behind her. "And no, you're right, a journalist I'm not. But the team who is putting this together for the town council drew up a set of questions for me." She popped her trunk and stowed her gear, then turned and took the last case from him. "All you have to do is answer them." She pulled a small recorder from the trunk. "I don't even have to write it down. You just talk to me and they'll take it from there when they put the final layout together." She was talking too fast. But he was so good at avoiding her, she was just enjoying being close to him for a change. Really enjoying. "So. Where should we do this?"

His eyes flared again. And suddenly it seemed there was no space between them. He still had his turnout coat on and about 20 pounds of gear. But that didn't lessen the sudden intensity between them. And she wasn't imagining it this time. In fact, as their gazes locked, she swore — swore! — his dropped, just for a second, to her mouth. She couldn't help herself, her body just took over, she began leaning a fraction closer, just to see what he'd do.

When the alarm went off again.

"Dammit," she whispered before she could choke it back.

"This will have to wait," he told her, already jogging back inside.

She touched her lips, lips she knew he'd wanted to taste. "Haven't I waited long enough?" she whispered.

Chapter Three

Ryan Connolly picked the safest place he could think of for his interview with Shea. Flanagan's Pub. With her brother, Casey, tending bar, surely he'd find a way to look at her, talk to her, listen to her laugh, watch her eyes sparkle…and not want to take her hard and fast right there on her barstool.

So far, it wasn't working out quite like he'd planned. But then, where Shea Flanagan was concerned, when did anything ever go as planned?

"It's too noisy in here for the recorder," she said between sips of her beer. "Why don't we finish up and head out somewhere more quiet."

Ryan went to take a sip of his own beer, then stalled. The longer it took him to finish, the longer he was safe. Then inspiration struck. "What about the library?" That was about as sacred as a church. And mean old Mrs. Handover, who'd been there longer than dirt, was an even better chaperon than Casey, who was presently so busy he hardly paid them any attention at all. For all Shea's brother knew, he could be stroking his hand up her thigh right this second, touching every inch of that satiny skin she'd so torturously bared with those overall shorts of hers. How a getup designed to be so asexual could be so entirely opposite of that, he had no idea. But on her it was. The skinny strap T-shirt she wore underneath didn't help matters any.

"It's past nine, Ryan. Library's closed." She arched one dark brow. "I wanted to meet for lunch, but nooooo, you were too busy. Just like you've been too busy all week. I've been dying to show you the shots and get your input on the ones you want me to send in for the final selection."

"I'll go with your judgment." The last thing he wanted to see was a reminder of that day. She'd thought it had been the catcalls that had him steamed under the collar. Well, that part hadn't been fun, but he had actually been thankful for the guys' presence. No way could he have predicted how — well, sexual was the only word he'd come up with — a photo shoot could be. And he'd had on 20 pounds of gear for Christ's sake! But every time she looked at him through that lens, he swore she could see right past the brotherly facade he was wearing…to the decidedly carnal fantasies being played out in his mind.

And then she'd had to go and touch him, pose him. The more impersonal her touch, the more aroused he'd become. It was pathetic how hot he'd gotten for her. He'd never been so thankful to head out on a call in his life.

"I really want your input, Ryan. Why don't we go over to my place right now?"

"Nope," Shea said, before Ryan could object. "Too noisy in here. We're heading over to my place, finish this thing up."

Ryan covered his long-suffering groan with a last sip of beer. And any hopes that Casey would rescue him from his own out-of-control libido died before he'd finished swallowing.

His Irish eyes, so much like his sister's, sparkled with humor. "Good. Free up these two stools for paying customers." Ryan had barely set his down before Casey popped their mugs off the bar. "Thanks for seeing her home safe, Ry."

"I'm 25, big brother," Shea cut in. "And perfectly capable of seeing myself home." She grinned as she slid off her stool and leaned suggestively against Ryan's arm before he realized her intent. "Besides, maybe I'm luring him to my boudoir to see my sketches."

Casey just laughed. "You'll always be my baby sister. And if you're going to torment me, pick another guy. The last person I'm going to worry about is this big lug." He clapped Ryan on the shoulder.

Just kill me now, Ryan silently begged. Because, lifelong friendship aside, he wasn't certain he could keep his hands off Shea if she was going to keep being touchy-feely with him like she had been all night. And when had she started with that? Other than the occasional hug at the family dinners, which he skillfully evaded more often than not, he steered clear of those clever little hands of hers. But this wasn't the first brush of her soft, sweet body she'd tortured him with tonight. No, she'd found a hundred reasons to touch him. And had made good use of every one of them. To the point that if he stood facing Casey right now, Casey just might have all the proof he needed to put him out of his misery.

Then she was slipping her hand in his and pulling him to the door, tossing a wave and a smile to everyone she knew on the way out. Which was just about the whole crowd. Several of whom looked twice at their joined hands and shot him a wink and a thumbs-up.

"Familial affection," he wanted to shout. Except there was nothing familial about the way he felt, and never had been. The locals knew about his ties to the Flanagans and almost everyone knew of his close friendship with Casey, especially here in the family pub. So he was surprised to see such encouragement. Surely they understood that he'd never jeopardize that friendship, much less diminish what he owed to Casey and Shea's parents, by doing anything that might hurt their daughter.

"Why don't you ride with me?" she suggested oh-so-innocently.

Or was she so innocent? They were in the parking lot, beside her car and he realized her hand was still tucked in his. He went to pull away, but her fingers tightened. Reflex, he told himself. And the way she was looking at him right now? A trick of the lamplight.

Her smile faltered then and he knew he should look away. Walk away. Jump in his truck and drive away. Somewhere, anywhere, where he couldn't put his hands on her. Because right now he wanted that more than he wanted his next breath. And, if he wasn't mistaken, that's what she wanted, too.

God help him. It was impossible enough to curb his own cravings, but if he had to contend with some wild idea that she wanted him, too? Had he given away his feelings? He didn't think so. So how had this happened?

"Ryan?"

He couldn't look away. Trapped as surely as a man on the top floor of a burning building. Only he had no idea how to save himself. Or if he even wanted to.

"We shouldn't do this, Shea," he said, his voice tight with restraint.

"The interview?" she whispered, but it was clear she knew that wasn't what he was talking about.

"I owe too much. To your parents. To Casey."

"We're grown adults, both of whom my parents and Casey happen to love very much. They'd be happy for us, Ry."

"I can't hurt you. It would kill them. And me."

"You won't hurt me."

"Shea —"

"Kiss me, Ryan. Or I'm going to kiss you. And once I start, I don't think I'll be able to stop."

His whole world was standing in front of him, and yet the tiniest step in her direction would send him plummeting off a cliff. One step. And there would be no going back.

"I warned you," she said softly. Then her lips curved as she reached up and pulled his head down to hers.

And, heaven help him, he didn't stop her.

Chapter Four

Just kissing Ryan Connolly was better than the best sex Shea Flanagan had ever had.

Any lingering fear of being rejected vanished the instant she pushed the tip of her tongue between those firm lips of his. His hands — God, she'd wanted them on her for so long — framed her face. There was no hesitance in his touch, not the tiniest waver in the way he took her mouth. It was almost as if he'd been wanting this as badly, and for as long, as she had.

He backed her up against the car, the sweet pressure of him, every hard inch, pushing against her, made her knees weak. And her panties extremely wet. She'd dreamed of having him, buried deep, so many times…and now, to feel him, so close. Closer than she'd ever allowed herself to dream. Could it be this simple? Could he really want her this badly?

But just as she relaxed, went to pull him closer, he was pushing away, letting her go.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding as breathless as she felt. "Jesus, Shea." He glanced around, as if expecting to find someone coming at him, fists swinging.

Okay, it wasn't so simple. But she was smiling rather than pouting. It had been a much better start than she'd anticipated. Much better. The man knew his way around a kiss. "Casey won't kill you, Ry. Not if he knows it's consensual."

Ryan swung his now dark green gaze back to her. "Don't use words like that." He raked his hand through his hair, looking both worried and a bit stunned. She liked that last part best. She felt a bit stunned herself.

"Nothing happened," he insisted.

She merely cocked her brow and folded her arms.

He narrowed his gaze. "Okay, then. Nothing else is going to happen. Just give me the list of questions and the recorder. I'll even deliver them to the council myself, okay?"

Although it was tempting to move forward, get back in his personal space, she stayed where she was. "Afraid to be alone with me, Ryan? You're going to have to be, sooner or later."

"I've managed so far," he muttered.

That stopped her. But only for a second. She tried to temper her grin, really she did. "Have you now?" She kept her arms folded, but shifted ever so slightly closer to him. "That's a bit of handy news to have."

He stepped back, but bumped up against the car. "Only if you pay attention to it. Shea, I'm not kidding. We can't do this."

"Oh, but I think we can. Quite well, if that kiss was any indication."

"Didn't I just tell you to stop talking like that?"

"You want to shut me up, I think you know the most effective way."

"Shh!" He glanced over his shoulder at the door to the pub.

Her smug smile faltered slightly. "Ryan, are you really so worried about Casey? Honestly, I'm a grown woman, you're a grown man —"

"Who owes a great deal to your parents. To Casey. Shea, without them…well, you know I wouldn't be standing here. I can't — won't — take any chance, or do anything to harm those relationships."

"And why are you so convinced kissing me will ruin everything? Have you ever stopped to consider my family might be thrilled to see the two of us get together?"

"No. Your parents have never even hinted at that. And Casey…we both know where he stands."

She waved her hand. "Casey doesn't want any man near his sister. Well, I hate to be the one to break it to you, Ry, but I'm no virgin. And my brother isn't in prison for homicide, so I'm thinking maybe you can stop worrying there."

Ryan said nothing. He was staring at her with the most unreadable expression on his face. Finally, he said, "Who?"

"Who what?" Her eyes went wide. "Who have I been to bed with? None of your damn business. All you need to know is there is no one in my life now." He just kept staring at her, looking all protective and murderous. And then it hit her. He wasn't feeling protective, not in a brotherly way anyhow. He was jealous. Jealous!

"Why me?" he suddenly asked. "Why now?"

She hadn't seen that one coming. How could she tell him it had always been him? "You're free, I'm free." She tried to shrug, afraid if he knew just how important this was to her, he'd run like hell. And it was more than important, it was her whole life.

"So this is just a fling you want." He made it a statement.

Meaning he wanted more? Or just thought she had. He went on before she could come up with an appropriate response.

"That's exactly why I stopped. I don't think your parents will be thrilled if we're just fooling around. Someone will get hurt, then there will be hell to pay." She started to speak, but he pressed a finger against her lips. "I've paid enough, Shea," he said quietly. "And I take enough risks. I'm not willing to risk you."

He let his finger drop away and she had to force herself not to sway toward him. He'd meant what he said, and she could see there would be no changing his mind. At least not tonight.

"Okay," she said softly, flinching inwardly when he visibly relaxed. Was he so relieved to let this go? Let her go?

"Just give me the tape and the questions." He'd asked gently. Maybe she hadn't been so good at hiding that flinch.

She handed everything over, careful not to brush against him, not even his fingers. Fingers that had been so close to touching her, peeling off her clothes, stroking her skin and-

"I'm sorry, Shea."

He was so damn sincere, she wanted to smack him. Or hate him. But she couldn't do either. She simply nodded.

"You want me to follow you home?"

"I only had one beer," she said. "I can find my way."

"Okay." He stood there a moment longer. "Okay, then." But he still stood there, his expression completely unreadable now. "If it wasn't for your folks, for Casey…" he started, then trailed off.

"I understand," she said, wishing she didn't.

"You are special to me, Shea."

"Yeah, I know." And she did. Dammit. She forced a smile. "But if you tell me I'm like a sister, I'm going to have to hurt you."

Now a hint of that charmer smile of his surfaced. "I don't believe I'd ever kiss a sister like I just kissed you."

She smiled back. It was that or cry. "I should hope not."

They stood there a moment longer, then he finally nodded and moved away.

She should just let him go. Live to fight another day. Because she wasn't going to give up. She needed to regroup a little. Okay, a lot. Figure out just how she could convince him that they could have something special. Maybe a forever kind of special. She knew it. Knew it. That kiss told her he had to at least suspect it, too.

Which was why she blurted out, "You're special to me, too, Ryan Connolly. More than you know."

He paused, looked back.

"And, for the record," she added, voice trembling just a bit, "I wasn't just interested in a fling."

Chapter Five

Casey Flanagan wouldn't have to kill him. Ryan Connolly would simply kill himself.

What in the hell had he been thinking to put his hands — much less his mouth! — on Shea Flanagan? He knew what he'd been thinking with.

Enough already. He went back to wrapping hose and stowing gear. He'd turned the interview notes in a week ago and had successfully avoided the entire Flanagan family since. But tonight was family dinner night. He'd known he couldn't hide forever, but he'd hoped that by now he'd have been able to put that scene in the parking lot in better perspective. He hadn't. What he'd done was lain awake at night, trying like hell to convince himself that Shea was wrong. They couldn't have anything together, special or otherwise. And once they went down that path, put more than their hands and mouths on each other…there would be no going back to the way things were if it went bad. And he simply couldn't bear that. For her…and, honestly, for himself.

And, when he did sleep, his dreams did nothing to convince he'd made the right decision. In fact, they went as far in the opposite direction as possible. He'd told himself after waking to his fifth cold morning shower in a row, that he was simply working it out of his system. Better to do that in his dreams than for real. Maybe it was time to find someone else to occupy his thoughts…and his body. Only, no one measured up to Shea. In fact, he realized now, he'd always compared women to Shea. They'd always come up short.

How long had she felt this way about him? He slammed the compartment door shut and swore under his breath. It didn't matter. It couldn't. He turned to the next truck…and as if his thoughts had conjured her up, there she stood. "What are you doing here?" It had come out harshly, but he was in turmoil here and being caught off guard hadn't improved that any.

The bright smile she'd been sporting faded abruptly. "Here," she said, pulling her hand out from behind her back and thrusting something at him. "Congratulations. You made the cover." She walked away.

He glanced down, felt the color drain from his face, then looked back up. "Wait!"

"I've got other calendars to deliver." She kept walking.

He trotted after her. "Shea, stop, wait. I was abrupt back there. You just…caught me by surprise."

"You can't hide forever, Ry." She was climbing into her car.

He put his hand on the door before she could close it. "Wait just a damn minute."

She shoved the door open, surprising him into stumbling backward. "No, you wait just a damn minute, okay? I didn't come here to jump you. But I'm not going to lie to you, either. I don't regret a single second of what happened the other night."

He glanced over his shoulder. "Shh, keep your voice down."

"But it's obvious you do." She sighed. "I don't want to lose our friendship. And I don't want you avoiding my family because you're trying to avoid me. You didn't want this to happen. Nothing is going on between us, so there is no need to hide."

Easy for her to say, he thought morosely. She wasn't making love to him for hours every night in her dreams. She wasn't straddling his hips, arching her back, riding him like — "I don't want you mad at me."

She pulled the door shut and leaned on the open window. "Then stop acting like I have the plague, okay?"

He opened his mouth, had no idea what to say to her, so he just nodded.

"The council is going to contact you about speaking at one of the elementary schools."

"Excuse me?"

Now she smiled. "Deal with it, cover boy."

He just gave her a look. "What exactly do you mean by 'speaking'? I'm not a public speaker, Shea. I fight fires, that's it."

"It's a way to promote the program. You go in, they introduce you, you tell a little about what you do and they get to ask you questions. They're little kids, Ryan. I don't think they're going to be too rough on you." She paused, then added, "I'm going to be there, too. They want photos of the speaking events, for future promo, brochures, et cetera." She smiled up at him, but this time it didn't reach her eyes. "I'll protect you, okay?"

It wasn't okay. He thought he was done with this. Or more specifically, done with his close involvement with Shea. "Do I have a choice?"

"No." She smirked at him, but he still couldn't read her eyes. Maybe she wasn't as cavalier about walking away from what they almost started as she pretended.

For the record, I wasn't just looking for a fling.

Those were the words that had launched a thousand hot dreams. He couldn't get them out of his head at the moment either.

"You coming to dinner tonight?" she asked.

That snapped him out of it. "Uh —" He'd been hoping to pull a double shift, avoid going, at least for this week. But he wasn't needed tonight. And it was stupid to hide like this anyway. Besides, he seemed to be the only one with the problem here. "Yeah, I'll be there."

"Okay then. Good." She pulled her seat belt on, cranked the motor, put the car into gear…but went nowhere. Neither did Ryan.

"Shea —" He was bending down before he knew what he was going to say, before he could question why it was he couldn't just let her drive away. Again. "It's —"

"Late. I've got deliveries to make." She kept her face averted.

He kept leaning on the window, his face inches from hers. "Okay. See you tonight." If she turned, just turned her head, her lips would line up with his. And, in that moment, he wanted to taste her. Badly. To just have her, with no strings, none of the risks. "Why does it have to be so complicated?"

It wasn't until she turned to him, that he realized he'd spoken out loud. "Because," she said softly, her lips a mere whisper away from his own. "The best things in life don't generally come easily." She looked into his eyes, searching for…what, he wasn't sure. "You know that better than most."

"Yeah," he said. His voice had gone all gravelly and rough. "Yeah, I do."

She said nothing. And for a long moment, neither did he.

"But does it always have to be difficult?" he asked finally. "Shouldn't some things be simple?"

"It's as simple as taking it," she went on. "As complicated as wanting it enough to make it work out the way you want it to."

"And what if it doesn't?"

"What if the world ends tomorrow? What if you run into a burning building tomorrow and don't come back out? Ask yourself, what would you regret more? Going for what you want, for what might be the best thing you ever had in your life? Or playing it safe?" A little smile teased the corners of her mouth, though her eyes were huge and a bit sad. "And since when have you ever played it safe?"

He opened his mouth, only this time she stopped him. With a breath-stealing, body-hardening, but achingly gentle kiss. "Think about that, Ry."

And then she was gone.

Chapter Six

As it turned out, Ryan Connolly did end up on a call last week and missed the Flanagan family dinner.

Shea Flanagan pulled up at her parents' house. But he'd be here tonight, she thought. He'd better be. She smiled as she got out of her car. He'd been so wonderful with the kids earlier in the week. She'd known he would be. In fact, the council was so happy with how things were going, they'd put out a press release that had resulted in Ryan getting interviewed by several local papers. The story of his childhood had grabbed the attention of one of the major dailies and from there it had sort of mushroomed. Even Shea couldn't believe how fast this was happening.

But it was happening. Ryan was suddenly in the spotlight. And, amazingly, so was she. Both as the photographer on the project…and as part of Ryan's now well-known childhood. The town council was eating it up. So was Ryan's captain, who was seeing dollar signs in the upcoming budget vote.

Which meant Ryan and Shea were flying to Chicago tomorrow as the guests of a national talk show, to discuss the project and how other communities might get involved. Her family was excited about it and the possible professional opportunities that might unfold for her. They were also excited and proud of Ryan, who, despite being a reluctant role model, had stepped up and done his best to promote the project.

The only person she hadn't actually discussed it with was Ryan himself. But that would change tonight. No way was he leaving here without talking to her. After all, they had to share a flight tomorrow. And adjoining hotel rooms tomorrow night. She had to clear this thing up with him once and for all.

She shouldn't have kissed him. Shouldn't have pushed herself on him. When he'd avoided her after their first kiss, she'd promised herself she was going to let it go, do whatever it took to salvage their friendship. But, dammit, he wanted her. And if she didn't push, how else was he ever going to see what was right in front of his face?

The tooting of a horn made her jump. Ryan. She walked to his truck as he pulled in behind her. "Hey."

He got out, but stayed by the door. "Hey, yourself."

"Hell of a week," she said, walking around to his side.

"You got that right." He shifted his weight, looked down, then back up at her. "Listen, Shea, about this thing tomorrow in Chicago."

"You're not backing out, are you?"

He shook his head. "But…we should talk."

She folded her arms. "I know. I tried to corner you after that talk you gave at the community center last night, but —"

"I was surrounded," he said. "And when I finally got free, you were talking to one of the councilmen. I had to get back to work, so —"

"I know." She blew out a long sigh. "Ryan, I never meant for this to become a wall between us. It's just —" She stopped, biting down on what she so badly wanted to say. Let it go, Shea. Just let the man go.

Then his finger was beneath her chin, tipping it up so her gaze met his. And, dammit, she trembled. His touch did that to her. And she'd ached for it for what felt like forever.

"I know, Shea. That's what I want to talk to you about. I thought about what you said. About regrets. In fact, despite the nightmare our lives have become —"

"It's not that bad," she said, cutting him off, suddenly terrified by what he was going to say.

His fingers stroked along her jaw. "I've thought of little else," he went on, as if she hadn't spoken. "I can't get you out of my head. And, if you want to know the truth, you've been there for a very long time." He let his hand drop away, then blew out a long breath. "There, I said it."

She was stunned. "How long?" she whispered.

"A lot longer than you should have. Forever it seems." He lifted a hand when she started to speak. "I have to know something, before we say anything else to each other. Why me? Why now?"

She smiled, tried to stop her thighs from shaking. "It's always been you." She thought she'd melt into a puddle as his pupils shot wide in reaction to her admission. "As for why now? It's a bunch of things. My turning 25, finally finding success with my job, becoming confident about myself, about what I want." She looked down, then back up at him. "I've always wanted you, Ryan. I just…I just never thought I could have you. Do you remember that fire on Franklin, a couple of months ago?"

He frowned. "The warehouse? Turned out to be a faulty generator. It was nothing, why?"

She gave a half shrug. "I was downtown that day. I saw you run into that building. I — I know you've tackled fires far worse than that one, that you really weren't in any danger that day. But it was the first time I'd ever seen you doing what you do. Risking what you risk. Every day. And I thought, 'Shea, here he risks his life, and you're afraid to risk your ego, your heart, because he might say no.'" She lifted her chin. "So, I decided to take some risks myself."

He grinned, but his gaze was zeroed in on hers. "That was three months ago."

She smiled. "It took a while longer to build up my courage. I'm not as brave as you."

He laughed then. "Like hell. I'm just as scared as the next guy. Everything is a risk, Shea. Just leaving your house in the morning." He stepped closer. "Which is what I've been thinking about."

"Leaving your house?"

He gave her a look and she laughed. He moved closer still. "About taking risks." He tipped her face up. "I think we've already taken that step that can't be taken back." He took a breath. She held hers. "So why don't we take another. And another after that. See where it goes."

"Ryan —"

"I don't want to hurt you. And I don't want to hurt your family. So, if you'll make me one promise. Let's do this on our own, out of the spotlight. Just for a little while, until we know where it's going. Can you do that for me, Shea?"

"I would. But how are —?"

"We're going to Chicago tomorrow. We'll…start then. Away from here. Just give me the next couple of days to deal with you. With us." He laughed nervously. "Us. Wow. I can't believe I'm even thinking of there being an us."

She grabbed his arms when he went to step away. She looked him right in the eyes. "There's always been an us. Always will be."

"I know," he said quietly. "I don't want to lose that, Shea. Above all else, I don't want to lose that."

"Me either."

"Okay then. Tomorrow."

Shea nodded, unable to actually process what he was offering. Oh, she knew what he was offering…but it was so much bigger than a night in a hotel. In his arms. Oh my God! That was so huge she couldn't focus on anything past it just yet.

"Shea? Ryan? What are you doing out there behind the truck?" Mrs. Flanagan called out. "Come inside, dinner's ready."

If the panic in his eyes hadn't so clearly reflected her own, she might have laughed. "No backing out." She gripped his hand and dragged him to the house. Before they both jumped in their cars and ran like hell.

Chapter Seven

The flight had been awful. Ryan Connolly paced his hotel room. The attendant had recognized him, and monopolized his attention until they landed. Shea had been tucked right next to him, and he hadn't been able to do a thing about it.

The instant they'd stepped off the plane, it had been mass chaos. Media attention right in the airport, then the rush to the studios to do the taping, then dinner out with the television people… Shea had seemed to enjoy every bit of it. All Ryan could think about was what came after the media glare went away. When they went back to the hotel. Alone.

Only, he hadn't expected to be this alone. "Where is she?" he muttered. She'd been held up in the lobby by a call at the front desk and had waved him upstairs, promising she'd be right up. That had been 30 minutes ago.

She'd chickened out. He knew it. Had almost convinced himself to call down and see if she'd gone. Then he remembered that look in her eyes before she'd taken the phone. The same look she'd privately flashed him every chance she'd gotten throughout the day. The one that said, "Later, you're all mine."

His pulse leaped, amongst other things, just thinking about it.

They'd been good all day. Not touching, hardly even speaking. Wanting to explore this…this thing between them in complete privacy.

A tentative knock at the door stopped his pacing. Shea.

Here. Right on the other side of the door. Now. Waiting for him. If he wasn't so damn nervous, he'd laugh at himself for being so damn nervous. It was Shea, for God's sake. Shea, the woman who'd known him all her life. The woman who'd kissed him as though she wanted to stick around for the rest of his.

He yanked the door open.

"Hey," she said with a quiet smile.

"Damn, but you're beautiful." It just came out. But he'd never meant anything more. And you're mine, he couldn't help but add to himself.

She blushed, but laughed, pushing past him with a roll of her eyes. "I look like a woman who hasn't had a moment's rest since she got up at four this morning."

He snagged her arm and swung her around…and right into his arms. "You're beautiful to me."

She tried to smile, but he saw the nerves playing around her eyes.

"So, I'm not the only one scared out of my mind, huh?" he said.

"You sure don't…feel scared." Her smile grew as she pushed forward and bumped hips with his.

His eyes widened in surprise, but he grinned. "We're really doing this."

"We're not doing anything yet," she pointed out.

He leaned down to kiss her, take her, do all the things he'd been dreaming about, but stopped just a breath away from her lips. "Are you sure, Shea? Absolutely sure?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck, wove her fingers into his hair, and pulled him the rest of the way to her mouth. "Mmm-hmm," she murmured against his lips. "I want all of you. For as long as you'll let me have you."

His control snapped. He'd meant to go gently, slowly. Do everything in his power to make this the most perfect moment for her. So she'd stick around. Forever. But she tasted like…Shea. Like the best of everything.

And he was hooked, addicted, gone, from that moment.

If his kiss was consuming, hers was just as ravenous. They battled for possession of each other's mouths, their hands pulling at clothing, their bodies shuffling toward the bed. His shirt and shoes were history before they collapsed on the mattress. Shea was down to her panties and bra.

"Did I mention you're stunningly beautiful?" This time it was Shea talking.

And Ryan blushing. "Come here." He pulled her to him, and under him. He took her mouth again, using his tongue the way he was dying to use his body. And he was going to. Finally.

It should have been awkward, Shea thought. It should have been nerve-wracking, letting him see her naked for the first time. Well, the first time since first grade when she'd lost her suit in the community pool and Casey and Ryan had stolen it and kept her trapped in the deep end for an hour.

"You've filled out," he teased, as if reading her mind.

And she wouldn't be surprised if he was. She'd always felt in tune with him, had wondered how that would translate to lovemaking. Now she knew. And it was better than she'd ever dreamed. She slid a hand between them…and downward. "So have you."

His eyebrows shot up, then he laughed and rolled to his back, pulling her astride his hips. "What in the hell took us so long?"

He gripped her hips and moved inside her. "Jesus, Shea," he gritted out. "You fit me like —" His words were cut off by a deep growl of satisfaction when she tightened around him.

"Like I was made for this? For you?" She leaned over and caught his bottom lip in her teeth, keeping her thighs clamped to his hips. "I was. I am."

"If you don't stop that, I'm going to —" He rolled her to her back again, pinned her roaming hands to the bed above her head. "I want this to last longer than five seconds, okay?" He was panting, but he was grinning.

"We've got all night," she responded, unable to wipe the grin off her own face.

"Oh, we've got longer than that." He leaned down and caught her lip this time, then her earlobe, then the curve of her neck, then he moved lower. She whimpered when he slid out of her, but her protests died when he pulled her nipple between his lips.

"I plan to have you for a long time," he promised. He kissed her intimately and she bucked beneath his lips. "A very —" another kiss "— long —" a prod of the tongue "— time."

Her response was the climax that ripped through her.

And then his weight moved deliciously over her again, and she was clawing at him to get on top of her, inside her. "Please, Ryan. Now."

"Hold on to me." He wrapped her legs around his waist just as he thrust inside her, and kept on thrusting.

She met every one, her climax reverberating inside her each time he pushed deep. She reached for more, wanting it all. And got it.

Ryan was still shuddering from the force of his climax when he carefully shifted his weight off of her. Never in his life had he felt anything close to what they'd just done with each other.

He pried open one eye, reached out and stroked the hair off her damp forehead. "You okay?"

"Mmm-hmm," she murmured, eyes closed.

"Not too rough."

She smiled and shook her head. "Again."

He tried to snort, but it came out like a whimper. "Give me a few minutes, okay?" Then, because she was way too far away from him, he tugged her closer, draped her leg and arm around him, tucked her close. She was already asleep. He smiled and stroked her cheek, her lips. "There is no going back, Shea," he murmured, pressing his lips against her hair. "I've always loved you. Now I know it's forever."

He relaxed, letting the soft sounds of her breathing lull him to sleep. She was forever. Now all he had to do was explain that to her family.

Chapter Eight

"I think we should tell them as soon as we get home." Shea gripped Ryan's hand. She felt as if it had always been there, strong and dependable. And hers to rely on. She could only hope he felt the same way about her. She smiled. The way he was holding on to her, she believed he did.

Ryan peered out the window of the plane as it taxied toward the terminal. "They probably figured it out when we stayed in Chicago through the weekend."

Shea didn't fight the wicked grin that curved her lips. The past three days had been the best of her life. And it was only the beginning. She and Ryan had fit together in every way possible. He made her laugh, he made her heart sing…and her body had never been so incredibly content. And this morning, in the shower, he'd impatiently demanded that she marry him.

She'd delightedly said yes, thinking that would make an interesting story to tell their children, when they asked how daddy had proposed.

"I didn't exactly explain why we were staying. I'm sure they assumed we were doing more publicity." She tugged at his hand until he turned to look at her. "They're going to be thrilled for us, Ry. Stop worrying. My mom will have a wedding to plan, she'll be over the moon. And Casey —"

Ryan groaned. "Will kill me for what I've done to his little sister."

"Hey, you're making an honest woman of me." She pulled him close, kissed him gently and smiled up into his eyes. "And now you'll be brothers for real."

"I didn't think about it like that," he said, then dropped another kiss on her lips. Then another. "You're amazing, you know that. Why did we take so long to figure this out?"

"I think we needed to be ready."

He laughed. "I guess I should be glad you took the initiative. I might have been taking cold showers every morning for the rest of my life."

She nudged him. "About those dreams…any others I should know about? Any we haven't made come true yet?"

He flashed her a wicked grin of his own. "We still have the honeymoon."

"Oh, I imagine we won't run out of things to do to each other for, say, another 50 or 60 years."

"Only 50 or 60? Shoot, and here I had such high hopes for my 90s."

She laughed. "By then we'll have forgotten half the stuff we've done and have to start over."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

They were still smiling as they left the plane, hand in hand. It took them a moment to realize the cheering section standing at the gate was for them.

"Um, Ryan?"

He stopped nuzzling her neck long enough to look at her. "What?"

She just nudged and pointed.

"Oh my God."

There stood both Shea's mother and father, along with Casey, several of Ryan's firefighter buddies, and about half the regulars from Flanagan's Pub. All holding signs that spelled out some variation of "Congratulations Ryan & Shea!"

"No way could they know," he whispered.

"Maybe they mean congratulations on the television program." She squeezed his hand. "Although I'm pretty sure since you had your lips locked to my neck a moment ago, they've realized there might be a bit more to celebrate."

Ryan looked up in time to see Casey charging at him. He instinctively pulled Shea behind him and put his hands out. "I love her, Casey. I'm going to marry her."

Casey didn't stop coming…until he'd wrapped Ryan up in a big, Irish bear hug. "Damn straight you are! It's about time you figured out what was right in front of your face."

"What?"

But before Casey could explain, they were enveloped by Mr. and Mrs. Flanagan, who were laughing and crying and hugging them both. "Did I hear something about a wedding?" Mrs. Flanagan gasped.

Ryan managed to nod, while simultaneously being swallowed up against her more than ample bosom.

"Oh," she sniffed, "this is the most wonderful news I've ever had. I've been hoping for this moment for as long as I can remember."

Shea and Ryan managed to disentangle themselves, both looking a bit shell-shocked. "You have?" Shea said. "But you've never once given even a hint you thought we should be together."

Her mother arched a finely shaped brow. "Now, would you have listened to me if I'd pushed you together then? Of course not. I could only sit back and hope you'd find each other before I went completely gray."

Shea laughed, but still looked a bit stunned. Her father stepped forward and took Ryan's hand in his. "Welcome to the family, son. Again."

Ryan's eyes burned as Jim Flanagan pulled him close and clapped him on the back. "I'll take good care of her, sir. The best."

Jim stepped back, the same blue-eyed smile of his children twinkling in his eyes. "Oh, I've no doubt of that, boy-o." He pulled his wife and Casey close. "We'll be watching your every step."

Ryan swallowed hard, but nodded confidently. "I won't let you down."

Mrs. Flanagan pulled away from her husband, batting at his hands. "Oh, now don't go and scare the boy." She patted Ryan's cheek. "You never have let us down. We just want the best for both of you."

Ryan pulled Shea into his arms. "You've given the best to me. And for that I'll be forever grateful."

Shouts of "Kiss her! Kiss her!" came from the peanut gallery. Never one to disappoint, Ryan swung a laughing Shea into a dip and planted one on her. But the hoots and whistles rapidly faded the instant he had his lips on hers.

When they finally straightened, neither's knees were steady. He traced her cheeks with his fingertips. "I love you, Shea."

"I love you, Ryan." She took his hand in hers, her eyes bright and shining. "Don't let my family make you crazy. We're going to be great."

"Your family made you, didn't they? And they're my family, too."

"Did I mention how much I love you?"

He kissed her again, then holding hands, they turned as the rest of the throng descended on them, surrounding them with well wishes and congratulations.

Several hours and more than a few celebratory pints at Flanagan's later, Shea and Ryan escaped back to Shea's apartment. Ryan had her up against the wall before the door was kicked completely closed.

"Thank God. I've been dying to taste you again."

Shea was already pushing his shirt off his shoulders. "Me, too. I love my family, but I never thought they'd let us leave."

"Maybe we should elope," Ryan murmured as he nibbled her collarbone.

"Yeah, that'll happen. My mother would disown us both." She stepped out of her skirt and finished unbuckling Ryan's pants. "But there's nothing to say we can't get a jump start on the honeymoon."

"Amazing," he said, cupping her breasts, leaning down to capture one tight nipple in his mouth. "I was just thinking the same thing."

Shea pulled away before she ended up naked on her own foyer floor. She danced past him and grabbed her camera as she raced to her bedroom. Ryan caught up with her at the door.

"What is that for?"

She aimed the lens at him. "You're not the only one with hot dreams."

"Shea —"

"Just for me." She snapped one before he snatched the camera away.

"Okay hot flash, fair's fair." He aimed the camera at her.

She squealed and grabbed a pillow to cover herself. Ryan laughed and tackled her on the bed. "We'll make our old dreams come true later. Right now I'm more interested in building some new ones."

And they did.

The End