All Riled Up: Trapped! / Riley. Lori Foster

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СКАЧАТЬ Rosie, and keep her out of this.”

      Of course she didn’t listen to him. She wouldn’t be Rosie if she did. “Why? That’s what this is really all about, isn’t it? You got jilted and you’ve been playing the wounded swain ever since.”

      “It’s none of your business. You’re a friend, not my mother, not my confessor.”

      “Damn right I’m your friend.”

      She put her hands on her hips again, but this time Ethan was too annoyed to admire her cleavage. Rosie’s anger struck him in waves and left him a little awed. He’d only witnessed her fierce temper a handful of times.

      “I’ve had enough of you dragging around with your tail between your legs.”

      “I don’t.”

      “Don’t growl at me, Ethan Winters. What would you call it? You date every single girl within a three-hundred-mile radius—but only once. You make cracks about women all the time—and in case you’ve failed to notice, I’m a woman.”

      “I noticed.”

      That shut her up, even left her bemused, but only for a moment. Her chin lifted. “Yeah, well, when you belittle half of humanity—”

      “The female half. And I don’t belittle them, I just look at them realistically. I see them for how they are.”

      She rolled her eyes. “You make yourself look defensive.” Her expression softened. “You make yourself look...well, lovesick.”

      The humiliation of being jilted in front of half the town and all his friends and family would be burned on his brain for the rest of his life. It wasn’t the sort of thing that a man just got over.

      It wasn’t the sort of thing that Ethan would ever forget.

      Rosie took a step closer to him. “Getting drunk and picking up strange women is certainly not the behavior of a hero, a role model for the community.”

      Because he didn’t like the way she looked at him, and he especially didn’t like the topic, Ethan backed up. “Screw that. I never asked to be called a hero.”

      In fact, part of the reason he’d started drinking last night was the ceremony honoring him. It had been every bit as bad as he’d imagined. He’d felt ridiculous, the center of attention for the first time since the wedding. And he’d felt undeserving.

      “Ethan.” Rosie’s tone chastised as she continued to advance, nearly backing him into the pantry. “You’re a firefighter and that’s heroic enough. But you risked your life to save those people.”

      He sidestepped away from the pantry and found himself in a corner, next to the stove. “I did what any guy would have done, especially a firefighter. I did my job. That’s all there is to it.”

      “In near-zero visibility? Knowing that the house could have collapsed at any moment?”

      Ethan dropped his head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling. Three weeks ago when he’d entered the flaming residence, he hadn’t had heroism on his mind. Through the crackle of burning wood and shattering glass, he’d heard people calling, pleading for help. Their voices had been raw from the thick smoke, desperate. Weak. Ethan had simply reacted.

      He’d done what he was trained to do.

      It hadn’t been easy to carry the man out while dragging the teenage son. Everything was ablaze, the smoke so dense he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. He’d made his way through, inch by inch, but he’d managed, and they’d all lived. He was grateful for that—and embarrassed that so much hoopla had been made about it. He didn’t ever again want to find himself as the focus of a crowd; it always reminded him of that awful wedding day when he’d been left standing alone at the altar.

      Yet there he’d been last night, at the damn ceremony, being applauded by the very people who’d looked at him with pity the night his bride had failed to show. He’d been dressed up then, too, and he’d felt just as numb.

      The memories assailed him, churning through his blood, ringing in his ears. He breathed hard, nearly panting, but it didn’t help.

      God, he was going to puke again.

      Rosie touched his chest, gently stroking his right pectoral muscle. Her fingertips grazed his nipple.

      It so startled him, the awful memories faded beneath a new emotion. He felt his body stir with sexual awareness.

      “I was so proud of you, Ethan, when they gave you the Fire Commission’s Valor Award. But then I’m always proud of you. You risk your life all the time without a second thought. You do what most men won’t do—to help others. You’re always so tall and commanding and direct. And last night you looked so incredibly handsome in your dress uniform.”

      Trying to ignore his unwanted arousal, Ethan focused on her soothing voice and eventually on the familiar features of her face. Rosie smiled at him and rested her palm over his heart.

      “You know, you owe it to yourself for the person you are, and to the community for the person they see you as, to stop being a self-pitying jerk.”

      He lurched at the shock of her words, such a contrast to the mood she’d created. Rosie poked him in the chest. Her voice was no longer quite so soothing. “I understand how you feel, Ethan—”

      “You can’t have a clue.”

      That seemed to make her angrier. “You’re obviously, rightfully, embarrassed that Michelle jilted you.”

      “In front of two hundred people.” He hadn’t meant to shout, not that it fazed Rosie at all. No, if anything, she stepped closer until he felt her legs against his.

      She tilted her head way back so she could stare him in the eyes. “When you carry on the way you do, it looks like you’re still pining over her.”

      Ethan snorted. Personally, he thought just the opposite to be true. People saw him with different women, saw him enjoying his bachelor life, and it proved that he was over Michelle, that he didn’t care.

      That she hadn’t ripped his heart out.

      Leaning closer still, until her nose nearly touched his chin, Rosie said, “But I know you’re not lovesick, Ethan. I know, because you didn’t love her.”

      Ethan grabbed her shoulders to keep her from getting any closer. He would have moved away from her, but she had him boxed in. That thought almost made him smile. He weighed a smidgen off two hundred pounds, and Rosie couldn’t possibly go over one-thirty, yet she did her best to intimidate him with her body.

      Her best was pretty damn tantalizing, he admitted, when he felt her soft belly against his crotch.

      All humor vanished.

      She stared up at him, her eyes the color of an approaching storm. “You want people to know you’re over Michelle, that she didn’t really affect you? Well, I have a better suggestion than what you’ve been doing.”

      Ethan could barely breathe. Her mouth was right there, so close he could smell the toothpaste she’d СКАЧАТЬ