Fireworks Over Fairfield Read online

  “A little, blue car. He can’t give us more than that?” Mac asked.

  “Said it was ‘real blue’ like those little Dodge Neons.”

  Jake added, “That’s more of a girl’s car. Arsonists are usually men. Think we’re looking in the wrong direction?”

  “Maybe our arsonist is using his girlfriend’s car to keep from driving anything that could be identified with him.”

  “Jesus, fuck,” Mac cursed. Looking at Rob, he said, “And don’t you be telling your mother that I’ve been taking the Lord’s name in vain again. She’ll stop bringing pastries or coffee to the station for my penance.”

  The men laughed at Mac’s attempt to lighten the mood, but each knew that the arsonist, whoever they were, was a real threat and one who might kill before it would be over.

  Laurie watched as Jean checked her phone again and sighed heavily when no message was coming.

  “It doesn’t get any easier, you know?” Laurie said.

  Jean looked up sharply, realizing her actions had been noted. “No, I guess it doesn’t.”

  “I used to think that it would, but then I talked to Bernie,” Laurie continued, twisting her engagement ring. “With both Mac and Rob at the station, she has to worry about her husband and her son.”

  Carol added, “I never thought about what Tom did when we first got together. It just seemed like all the bad stuff happened on TV. Then…”

  Laurie reached over and clasped Carol’s hand giving it a squeeze. Carol had dealt with a stalker earlier in the year and Tom had to rescue her.

  “I confess that I hadn’t given Jake’s profession a second thought,” Emma said. “Now I’m worried.” Emma and Jake had begun dating right after the barbeque.

  “Ladies, listen to us. We’re so morose. We’ve chosen detectives and firemen to be with, but we can’t let worry dictate our lives. My Rick had a safe job, or so I thought, and then one day he was killed while working. We need to stay strong for our men.”

  Jumping up, Laurie agreed. “Jean’s right and I propose we have some wine, turn up the music and dance.”

  Catching Laurie’s enthusiasm, the others quickly joined in, and that was how the men found them an hour later.

  The four men walked up the front path to Rob’s house when they heard the sound of music and laughter. Looking at each other, they made their way to the porch window to peer in.

  The four women were dancing around the living room barefoot, giggling as they tripped over each other. Several wine bottles sat on the coffee table and it looked as though the women had consumed most of the contents.

  Brock looked at Jean, admiring her figure and youthfulness, and his daughter’s enthusiasm for fun. Rob opened his front door and the women all turned around to greet the men, each racing over each other.

  Jake swooped Emma up on his shoulders, gave her ass and pat and said, “Say goodbye, Emma girl.” Giggling, she waved at the others as he carried her out.

  Tom, towering over Carol, picked her up gently, kissing her nose. “You okay, angel?” She nodded and smiled as they headed out of the door also.

  Brock walked over to Jean pulling her in close. “You looked like you were having fun, sweetheart.”

  “We’d been sitting around worrying about you all so much, we just decided to drink and dance our worries away.”

  Chucking, he asked, “Did it work?”

  “Well,” she looked at Laurie who was standing in Rob’s embrace. “It was fun, but I can’t say it took away my worry.”

  “We’re fine. The fire was a larger one, but we’re hoping that maybe for the first time we have a witness to who may have started it.”

  Giving Laurie a hug, Jean turned to Rob, whispering, “Thank you for looking out for him.”

  She turned seeing Laurie hug Brock as well, saying, “Goodnight, Dad.”

  Taking Brock back into her arms, they walked down the path and into his truck. Giving his hand a squeeze, she looked over in concern. “Are you hungry? I can fix you something when we get home.”

  Home. Brock loved that word coming from her mouth. Having moved from base to base, home had been wherever the Army had placed him. Even his apartment for the last two years had not seemed much like home. But here with her…now he understood the word.

  “No, baby. I’m not hungry for anything but you.”

  “Me?” she smiled.

  “Oh yeah, sweetheart. Seeing you shake that gorgeous ass in there has my dick twitching, and you telling me that we were going home has made my heart want to hold you all night.”

  Arriving at Jean’s house, they entered quickly, undressing as they moved straight to the bedroom.

  “You need anything, sweetie,” she asked, concern on her face.

  “I had a quick shower at the firehouse, but I wouldn’t mind another one here, just to make sure I’ve got all the smoke and soot off of me.”

  Jean pulled her shirt over her head and with a wink, asked, “You want some company in there?”

  “Hell yeah, woman,” he answered.

  Jean stepped into the shower once the water was warm, but looked askance at the shower wall. She had never had shower sex before and was not sure of the mechanics.

  He noticed her reticence and smiled at the look of uncertainty etched on her face. “You afraid, babe?”

  “Um, I guess I’m not sure how this works,” she said, a blush appearing on her breasts and rising to her hairline.

  Brock let the water hit his back to keep it from her face as he watched the water droplets slide down her luscious body. “Let me worry about that and you just give it all over to me.” He watched as a smile lit her face and he leaned in to kiss her. Hard. Wet. Full of passion.

  She gave into the kiss, his tongue moving deeply in her mouth creating sensations that shot to her core. With her arms around his neck, she began to hold on as the power of his kiss lifted her higher.

  She felt her back against the wall, realizing that his kiss had stolen all rational thought. Her legs circled his waist and his erection tip was right at her entrance.

  He used one hand to palm her breasts and pluck her nipple, all the while his tongue continuing its torturous explorations. Slowly his hand moved to her nether lips as he circled her clit before plunging two fingers inside. Riding his fingers, she moved her hips up and down, desperate for the sensations that were deep inside. Without warning, her orgasm rocked her and she leaned her head against the shower wall, allowing his tongue to wander along her neck, nipping at the sensitive area where her pulse beat.

  With just a slight jostle, he set her on his aching cock and seated her fully. He watched as her eyes flew open, the feeling of fullness and then friction almost taking her over the edge again. Their eyes stayed on one another as he lifted her up and down his dick, her warm core clutching him tightly.

  It did not take long for her inner muscles to begin pulsating as they milked him and throwing his head back, he roared through his orgasm at the same time. Holding her carefully as he slowly pulled out, he set her down not letting go until her legs were steady underneath her.

  Peering down at her, he saw her blush once again. “You’re not embarrassed are you, sweetheart?”

  Laughing, she said, “No. It was…amazing. I’m just realizing how many firsts I’m having with you.”

  Not able to help his caveman pride, he pulled her in for a spine-tingling kiss. “As long as I’m your lasts, I’ll be happy.”

  Later, tucked into bed, watching her sleep he knew that he could not believe this beautiful, amazing woman was lying in his arms. Forever. That’s what I want. Forever. And baby, I’ll be your last.

  Chapter Nine

  The early July sun was already beaming down on the ground as Jean pulled the lawn mower from her garage. Splurging on the electric start mower was making the job easier, knowing she would never be able to get the pull cord cranking. Putting her earphones in, she began the job.

  Mowing in the front first then around the back, she wa
s almost finished when she was suddenly grabbed from behind. A scream ripped from her as her legs and arms flailed.

  “Jean,” a familiar voice shouted through her fear.

  She stopped struggling immediately, twisting to see Brock’s angry face glaring at her while his strong arms held her tightly.

  “Brock? What are you doing scaring me like that?”

  “I’d like to know why the hell you’re out here doing this when I said I’d be by later this afternoon to do it for you.”

  Jean pulled out of his arms, hands on her hips and glared. “It’s supposed to be in the upper 90’s by this afternoon, so I figured I’d go ahead and get it done this morning.”

  Glaring back, Brock continued, “I was coming to do it now when I didn’t get called in today.”

  “Well, I didn’t know that, did I?”

  “You would have if you’d answered your phone.”

  “This argument is ridiculous, Brock. I’ve been mowing my own yard for the past fifteen years. I think I’m perfectly capable.”

  “Fifteen years, huh? So did Rick let you mow it when he was here?”

  At that, Jean’s blood began to boil. “No. He never lived in this house. He died before we could move in.” Turning, she stomped toward the back door leaving the mower in the middle of the yard.

  Brock heard the door slam as he stood there, the hot sun beating down and hung his head. Well, fuck. I coulda handled that better. Looking toward the house, he wondered when he should go apologize. Letting his gaze fall back on the mower, he walked over and started it again, deciding to give her a little space first.

  Quickly finishing the back yard, he pushed the mower into the garage and headed back to the house. His hand hesitated on the doorknob, wondering if she locked him out. He technically still had the efficiency until the end of the summer but rarely stayed there. He had all but moved into her place, but now wondered if he would be welcome.

  Steeling himself, he heaved a sigh of relief when the knob turned easily. Stepping in the cool of the kitchen, he saw her standing at the sink with her back toward him.

  Jean turned, handing him a glass of iced tea. Not ready to look at him, she kept her face down but knew that would never work. He walked over, taking the glass from her hand and set it down on the counter as he stepped closer into her space. With his hands on either side of her, she was effectively blocked in.

  “Sweetheart?” he said softly.

  She looked up, blinking back tears. He saw the unshed tears and as she blinked one more time a single tear escaped down her cheek. Gently, he wiped it away with the rough pad of his thumb, allowing his fingers to cup her smooth face.

  “Baby, I’m so sorry,” he confessed. “I shoulda never brought Rick up like that. It was cruel and wrong and I promise…promise I’ll never do that again.”

  She heard the sincerity in his gravelly voice and leaned her head into his hand, loving the feel of it on her skin. “I’m sorry too, Brock. I just…I don’t know…” giving a little shrug, her words hung unsaid.

  Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her in close to his heart. She fit perfectly. Her head just under his. He smelled like fresh mown grass and his own scent of man. Not aftershave or cologne. That would not be his style. Just man. Intoxicating man.

  She breathed deeply, taking him in, allowing her tense muscles to relax and feeling his do the same.

  “Did we just survive our first argument?” she asked, with a slow smile on her face.

  “I think we did, darlin’ and it wasn’t too bad was it?”

  She shook her head and allowed him to lead her into the living room. As he sat, he gently pulled her down with him.

  “I meant what I said. Rick is a part of you, but your life with him and your life with me are separate.”

  “But Brock, you also have to remember that I was very young when I was married. I’ve been on my own for fifteen years. If my sink leaked, I dealt with it. I bought the lawn mowers and mowed the grass. I dealt with my tire going flat. When it snows, I shovel my driveway.” When she saw him about to protest, she cut in, “Yes, I’ve had good neighbors and friends who have all helped, but I have been a woman living alone for a very long time.” Giving her shoulders a delicate shrug, she added, “I don’t really know the rules of being with someone again.”

  Brock gave her a gentle kiss, rubbing his thumbs over her soft cheeks again. “There’s no rules being with me, Jean. I’m not that kind of man. I know you’re capable and strong and independent. I just want to fit into your world in a way that works for both of us.” He watched her carefully to see how she was taking his words, pleased to see her eyes smiling again.

  “If I’m here, I’d like to do the mowing and anything else that’s heavy. If I’m not around and you can do it, then that’s fine too. I don’t want you doing anything that could hurt yourself, but other than that, I know you make good decisions.”

  He kissed her again, this time a little longer and deeper. Pulling back, he said, “And one last thing, sweetheart. I meant what I said about my promise. I’ll never mention Rick in anger ever again.”

  With that promise, she grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss. This time, she took over plunging her tongue in to taste his. Yep, I was right. He even tastes like all man.

  The next day, Jean was recounting the argument to the girls as they met at Bernie’s Bakery to plan for the Fourth of July picnic.

  Each had their phones out as they were noting who was going to bring what, while discussing relationships at the same time.

  “I’ll do my deviled eggs again,” Carol said, eliciting moans of delight from Laurie.

  “Oh my God, they’re so good. I can never figure out what you put in them, but they are amazing.”

  Emma looked at Jean, confessing, “I’ve been on my own for a long time too Jean, so I know where you’re coming from. Although…” she smiled, “I have to tell you that if that had been Jake, he’d have apologized while paddling my ass.”

  Laurie burst into giggles as she looked around and then whispered, “Rob, too. A few times I’ve had that pleasure also.”

  The idea of Brock trying that suddenly did not seem like such an abhorrent thought. Hmmm, I just might have to check that out.

  “What about dessert?” she asked, noticing that a few other patrons were glancing their way.

  “Bernie will bring dessert for the whole group, so we don’t have to worry with that unless you have something special you want to do,” Carol said.

  “I’ve got a killer banana pudding,” came the reply.

  Laurie moaned again. “Ya’ll are killing me. I’ve been needing to lose a couple of pounds but it won’t happen this weekend.”

  “I’ve got the baked beans,” Emma called out, then turned back to Jean. “So how did the argument end?”

  Jean had to laugh. “Our conversation must sound strange to anyone listening. We’re talking about arguments, lawn mowing, getting spanked, and baked beans all at the same time.”

  “So?” Laurie asked. “We women can keep up with lots of things at a time. It’s just men who have trouble thinking beyond their dicks.”

  Bernie walked up, then blushed. “Well, you may be talking about my son, but having been married for thirty-five years, I would have to agree.”

  Laurie blushed not realizing that her comments had been overheard, but they all burst into giggles once again.

  “So, how did it end?” Carol asked.

  “We talked. Apologized. And then made out like crazy,” she admitted, smiling at the memory.

  “Oooh, make up sex is the best,” Carol stated emphatically.

  “Honey, all sex is the best,” Bernie added.

  Driving back to her house, Jean got behind a slow moving vehicle on her street. They must be looking for someone’s address, she thought as she slowed behind them. The car was crawling by the time she reached her driveway and as she glanced to the side, she noticed her elderly neighbor struggling to get her groceri
es out of her car. Parking on the street, she immediately walked up her neighbor’s driveway, but noticed the blue car now driving quickly down the street and turning the corner.

  Must have been on the wrong street. Not giving it another thought, she hopped out and helped her neighbor. “Mrs. Phillips, you shouldn’t lift something so heavy. If you ever need help then just call me.”

  “Oh thank you dear. I looked over in your driveway to see if your young man was there, but he must not have heard me. I didn’t know he drove a blue car.”

  Blue car? “No ma’am, he doesn’t. He drives an older-model, black pick-up truck.”

  “That’s what I thought. Well, when I called out to whoever was there, they just jumped in quickly with the girl and drove away.”

  “They were in my driveway?” she asked, thinking of the blue car she had followed down her street. Had they been looking for me, left and then were returning when I saw them?

  After helping her neighbor get the groceries into her kitchen, Jean drove into her driveway. Her house looked undisturbed, but the strange words of Mrs. Phillips ran through her mind once again. Knowing the garage was going to be stifling in the July heat, she left the car under the shade of one of her large oak trees.

  Maybe they were delivering a package, but when she approached the front door there was no package to be seen.

  Hauling her groceries into the kitchen, she began to make the banana pudding. Her phone rang and she answered it, putting it immediately on speaker while needing both hands to hold the bowl and stir.

  “Hey sweetheart,” the familiar voice said. “How was your morning with the girls?”

  “Um, it was interesting, to say the least,” she replied, a blush appearing.

  “Interesting?”

  “Well, do you want details?”

  “Absolutely,” he answered. He’d secretly been nervous, figuring she would talk about their argument and wondering what the other women’s reaction had been.