Page 4 of Hot Under the Collar

She stormed off, frustrated and shaking, then remembered something her therapist had told her once. Patterns keep you safe until they don’t.

Well, this pattern—with Leo, with Halloween—was now several fire extinguishers deep.

2

Leo (Then)

Twenty-one. Finally legal. The splay of empty shot glasses in front of him on the table proved that. And yet he felt like he was ten years old again, fumbling and awkward and just hoping Lynne would look at him long enough to prove he wasn’t invisible. Like if she saw him, really saw him, everything about who he was might finally make sense.

Tonight she did look. Several times, he’d noticed. Every time he glanced over at the bar, she was glancing back at him. But he didn’t know what he was going to do about it yet. This damn “costume” didn’t help. He was an idiot, throwing on the oldest, training-issued, spare firefighter gear he could find at the station at the last second for his Halloween birthday bash. It was heavy, stiff in all the wrong places, and after a few drinks was making him sweat. Far worse, though, was how it kept him glued to his seat, surrounded by friends who plied him with more rounds, instead of letting him get up and casually walk over to the bar and talk to Lynne.

He’d never seen Lynne like this before. It was like seeing her for the first time. Magnetic. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was dressed as a Grecian goddess, with silky white fabric draped along her chest and a gold rope wrapped around her waist. Her red hair was swept up in a bun with curls that cascaded to her collarbone—a switch from her usual center-parted, stick-straight, no-fuss style. Tendrils grazed along her collarbone as she maneuvered through the crowd with drinks for all the patrons except him. Her dad, Dale, was tending his table tonight instead—because of his birthday status—and somehow managing his rowdy friends.

He imagined what it would feel like, letting down Lynne’s hair, unraveling that belt from around her waist. He’d never wanted to touch her like this before. Now it was all he could think about. The image made his mouth suddenly go dry, and he reached for another sip of his old fashioned. He wasn’t supposed to have these ideas about her. Their families had known each other since well before he was born. Her dad and his dad once co-owned this bar. Leo was seven years younger than her. She’d been his babysitter, for Christ’s sake, then his older brother Michael’s high school sweetheart. So many reasons to ignore the fact that, tonight, Lynne O’Donnell looked like she was glowing.

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe he was putting her on a pedestal.

Some of his pals clapped him on the back and said they were headed off, joined by a few girls he’d just met at the bar tonight. They were dressed as butterflies in various sparkling colors, and the more they drank, the worse they got at accidentally ramming their wings into everyone around them. Still, Leo understood why the guys didn’t care. The girls were attractive, and nothing about their curves was hidden under those sparkling leotards.

They each bent down to Leo’s ear and whispered, “Happy birthday” and gave him a kiss. The blue butterfly, who had been hovering around him for the past few hours, did the same then grabbed his hand. But he held back. He regretted pulling her in with his cherry stem trick when the night was young, when he hadn’t assessed all his options, before he caught sight of Lynne at the bar.

“I’m gonna stick around, say hi to a few people I didn’t get to talk to yet.”

The frown she gave him should’ve melted him. But it didn’t. “You don’t want to come with us? I’ve got a birthday present for you,” she said breathlessly.

She really did make it sound tempting. A couple years ago, he absolutely would have taken her back to his apartment, and they would’ve made a fun night of it. Maybe even a short-term relationship. But then Lynne floated behind them toward a table in the back, leaving a warm, woodsy vanilla scent in her wake, those damn, perfect curls bouncing against the back of her neck. “I’m good,” he said, to the blue butterfly’s disappointment.

The blue butterfly slunk off, and as soon as the door closed behind her, Leo was up and headed for the bar. He felt a little untethered, like he was floating now, too, and a soft buzz rippled under his skin.

“Dude, you forgot your helmet,” one of the remaining guys called after him, and he ran it over while the rest laughed. “Don’t want to lose that before your first day. You need someone to walk you home, or you good, buddy?”

He wasn’t sure if they were gently hazing him like they’d been doing all night or if he’d misstepped on his way to the bar and hadn’t noticed. It didn’t really matter when Lynne’s face appeared on the other side of the bar.

He took the helmet back from his friend. “I’m fine, thanks.”

Lynne offered a smile. “Happy birthday, Leo. What’s up?”

She stared at him as if she expected him to ask to close out his tab or ask for another drink. Completely innocent. But this close to her, he could make out the faint shimmer on her cheeks and eyelids, her parted, glossy lips, the blue of her eyes. And her sweet smell hit him like a punch of adrenaline. God, she was gorgeous. Even prettier than he remembered her being when she and his brother were in high school.

When he didn’t reply, Lynne bit her lip and tried to fill the awkward silence. “Uh, nice costume. Looks authentic. I’m impressed.”

“That’s because it is authentic.”

The way she looked him over, top to bottom, seemed full of disapproval. It had been years since Lynne was in any position to disapprove of something he’d done. But as long as she was giving him this much attention, disapproving or not, it didn’t really matter.

“Right,” she muttered. “So you’re a firefighter now?”

“Yep. Well, once training ends this week I will be.”

Her blue eyes widened as she scanned once more, slower this time, her gaze snagging on the suspenders slung low on his hips. Her eyes snapped back up like she’d touched something hot, and she shifted her posture.

“I like a man in uniform,” she said softly. So softly he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. The flirtation took him by surprise.

“Yeah?”

A wash of pink crept up her neck as she nodded. “I mean—professionally. Good guys. Good members of our community. Not … whatever.” She cleared her throat. “But based on the crowd at your table tonight, it seems I’m not the only one. It’s like you were the unofficial center of gravity. You didn’t notice?”

He suddenly wished he hadn’t drunk so much. The words he wanted to reply with—I was staring at you all night—seemed caught in his throat right now.