Wendy Etherington - Can't Help Falling In Love

Briefly, she considered scrambling down the tree it had taken her more than thirty minutes to climb, but one look below at the park’s summer green grass changed her mind. She swallowed hard. Had she really climbed so high?

Worse, a small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk. Two elderly women had their necks craned backward as they stared up at her. A couple of kids—was school out already?—danced around Roland chanting, “Jump, jump.” Their words caused passersby to grind to a halt. People pointed and whispered. Cars stopped in the middle of the street. When Roland shook his head at the kids and shouted “Stop that right now,” they only chanted louder. “Jump! Jump! Jump!…”

“Hells bells.” Resting her forehead against the rough tree bark, Skyler cursed her impulsive nature. She’d fought against the “hero” mentality of her family all her life by being planned, controlled and cautious. Her father had lost his life in a fire being the hero, never realizing the financial and emotional strain he might leave behind. Her brothers, Ben and Steve in the fire department and Wes as a cop, strove on a daily basis to live up to his legend, while she, at least on most levels, fought to live it down. She cared for her mother—who’d never fully recovered from the loss of her husband nearly twenty years before—she paid her taxes, attended to her customers, went out every other Saturday night with her friends for girls’ night, and fought nervous sweats and panic over her brothers’ dangerous jobs.

She had stock to unpack, customers to call about her upcoming sale and books to balance. Why had she decided to take on an ornery feline as her one heroic gesture in weeks? If only Roland hadn’t cried….

“Don’t jump, dear,” someone called up.

Skyler glanced down to see one of the elderly women had moved to the base of the tree. “I’m not jumping,” she returned. She had no intention of listening to the ridiculous suggestion of a couple of obnoxious five-year-olds.

“Just stay calm. Remember life is so precious.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You have so much to live for.”

Of course…Skyler narrowed her eyes as realization dawned. That lady thought she wanted to do herself in. From an oak tree? In the middle of the park? Good grief. Feeling ridiculous for having to explain why she’d climbed the tree, she pointed at Fluffy. “I’m just getting a cat.”

“You don’t have to make up a story, dear.”

Skyler clenched her jaw. “I’m not making—”

“We all love you.”

Pushing a group of leaves out of her way, Skyler craned her neck to get a better look at this goofy woman. She’d never seen her before in her life. We all love you?

“I’m just here to get the cat.” She stepped over one branch closer to Fluffy.

The crowd gasped. The kids chanted louder. “Jump! Jump! Jump!” The lady held up her hand imploringly. “No, don’t move.”

Then the fire department arrived. In the ladder truck. And the pump truck. And the ambulance.

Skyler sighed, sitting on a branch with her back braced against the tree. “Well, Fluffy, we’re getting the full show today.”

Captain Benjamin Kimball—her oldest brother—leapt from the passenger seat of the ladder truck, just as Steve, his junior by five years, jumped from the driver’s side. Drivers and other firemen scrambled out of the other trucks, all jogging in the wake of their captain. Looking away from the whole, humiliating scene, Skyler absently wondered when the police—and her third brother—would arrive.

Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten lunch. Fluffy butted her head against her arm, purring like crazy. She was probably hungry by now, too. Skyler rubbed the ornery feline between her ears. “You know, you could have decided to be friends twenty minutes ago, then we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

The cat crawled into her lap, flexing her claws as she found a comfortable position.

“Ouch!” Skyler flinched and grabbed an overhead branch to steady herself.

The crowd gasped. The goofy lady squealed. The kids chanted. “Jump! Jump! Jump!…”

“Skyler?” a familiar voice shouted.

Skyler waved her hand in Ben’s general direction. “Here.”

“You’re not planning to jump, are you?”

“Not today.”

“Can you climb down?”

“If you really think I should.”

“Skyler…” Ben said in his best don’t-mess-with-me warning tone—the one he used whenever he was forced to bail her out of some scrape her impulsiveness had driven her to.

“Coming.” Skyler planted her feet on a lower branch, using one hand to balance against the tree, while holding Fluffy beneath her other arm. Scooting on her bottom, she managed to move down one branch, but Fluffy panicked at the movement and dug her claws into Skyler’s arm. They both teetered. Fluffy hissed, swiped her claw down Skyler’s arm, then scrambled onto another branch. Her arm stinging like hell, Skyler swung one leg over the branch she was sitting on, clutching the rough bark between her thighs. Her stomach pitched and sweat trickled down her back. “Okay. That wasn’t fun.”

“Jump, Jump, Jump!…”

“Shut up already!” she yelled down, past frustration and embarrassment. She examined the inside of her arm, where a thin line of blood had appeared. Glaring up at the cat, she again began her descent. “You’re on your own.”

Before she could get more than a few feet down, though, she heard the familiar sound of a hydraulic lift. The ladder. Again, she leaned her forehead against the tree’s rough bark. “Why me?”

The cat hissed.

“You said it, Fluffy.”

“Name’s Jack, chère, not Fluffy. You wanna give me your hand?”

Skyler jerked her head around at the unfamiliar, deep, sensuous voice—and promptly bopped her head against the thick branch next to her. Wincing and rubbing her forehead, she looked down at the man who’d spoken.

She found herself staring into a pair of warm, whiskey-brown eyes, the exact shade of the Jim Beam her father used to drink. Along with those incredible eyes went jet-black hair, an arresting, sculpted and tanned face, broad shoulders, muscular arms, then…

Leaning over to get her fill of her gorgeous savior, she nearly lost her balance.

Quick as lightening, he grabbed her wrist.

Her pulse drummed against his hand. The warmth of his skin seeped into her veins, and she found her whole body heating to his touch.

“Hold tight, chère,” he said. “I’m tryin’ to impress my captain.”

Skyler blinked. Of course. The new firefighter/paramedic Ben had mentioned last week at Sunday dinner. Grew up in a small, southern Louisiana town. Met him at a convention. He wants to move up. A real go-getter.

Another hero.

Who at the moment was going to save her butt, so she had no business quibbling with him over the dangers of his job.

Still grasping her wrist, he gently tugged her arm. “Come on. I’ve got you now.”

She smiled. That sounded pretty nice. As she climbed onto the ladder it wobbled. She thrust her arms around the fireman’s neck, and the heat of his body infused hers. His sculpted face was inches from her own. He smelled pleasantly of sweat, pine and musk, as if he’d applied aftershave that morning, and the scent had melded with his duties during the day. The muscles along his shoulders tickled her fingertips, and for the first time in a great while she found herself tempted by male flesh. Tempted beyond her brothers’ tendency toward overprotection. Tempted beyond her staid reputation.

Smiling, he held her waist snugly as his bold gaze slid down her body. “This is my kind of rescue.”

Skyler’s heart fluttered. It had been a long time since a man had looked at her so brashly—and survived her brothers’ fury to tell the tale. Curious herself, she let her gaze rove him as slowly as he had her. He wasn’t model beautiful, she decided…he was better. Rugged. Strong. And big. His tanned, muscular arms and broad chest were covered by a white shirt with the Baxter Fire Department logo stitched over his left breast pocket. His black uniform pants glided over his lean hips and thighs as if they’d been custom-made…and she certainly wouldn’t have minded being the tailor.