Chapter 8

1017 Words
It was stupid to be so nervous. Kristi had repeated that to herself a hundred times already. It was just a date. Maybe not even a real date. Maybe just dinner with a friend. Oh, who the hell was she kidding? The heat in Patrick's eyes when he looked at her was a clear indication this was a lot more than that. They'd danced around this for weeks now. The casual touches, the intense looks they'd exchanged, despite her best intentions. The s****l awareness that seemed to wrap around them like a thick cloud whenever they were together. She hadn't felt this way for four years and hadn't ever expected to feel it again. Remembered pain had been her strongest sensation. This all seemed to just creep up on her, and now, without any conscious decision on her part, they were taking things to the next level. Tonight was just dinner, but what would happen afterwards? For four years, she hadn't let a man get any closer than a platonic relationship. Friendship. And here she was, stepping into treacherous waters again. She knew Patrick wouldn't do anything she didn't want him to. Too bad she couldn't figure out what she wanted. And that was a big part of her problem. Was she ready to take a chance again, opening herself up to the possibility of more pain and heartache? She'd still been arguing with herself nonstop when she finally got home from her twenty-four hour shift. Worn out from the combination of her internal battle and some tough incidents, she'd barely had energy enough to do anything but strip off her clothes and fall into bed. But her sleep was anything but restful, with a black-haired god smiling at her with a look that said he'd like to eat her with a spoon. She awoke to sunlight streaming in her windows and realized she'd been so tired she hadn't even closed the blinds. Good thing her bedroom was at the back of the house. She threw back the covers and allowed herself a long, satisfying stretch. But then her dreams popped back into her head and a shiver of desire raced through her. Not good! Once upon a time, she'd wanted a stable relationship, one filled with passion and love and caring. Once upon a time. What she'd gotten instead had left emotional scars. Did she really want to put herself out there like that again, in a susceptible situation? Patrick is different, her inner voice kept repeating. You don't have to be afraid of him. He's not like...that. He certainly hadn't been like that in her dream. Could she put the past behind her and take another chance? Squashing the misgivings that kept after her like a mosquito, she got a glass of orange juice and drank it while she ran her bath. Because that's what she needed tonight, a bath not a shower. Her muscles were still stiff and sore from bending down so much the day before and kneeling next to litters to treat people. The bath would soothe her muscles and wipe away the smoke from her skin. Then she'd shower so she could wash her hair and get the remnants of smoke from where it had settled in the strands. By the time she'd finished both bath and shower, she was feeling much better and even anticipating tonight. She reminded herself the vibes she got from Patrick were good ones. And no one, not Keith or any of the men she worked with who got to know him, had a negative thing to say about him. She'd seen enough happy couples to know not all men were the same as him. Still, it had taken a lot of courage for her to accept his invitation. She had never told anyone at the fire station about her catastrophe of a relationship. He hadn't been a cop or firefighter so he hadn't crossed paths with anyone she knew or worked with. In the beginning, she'd kept it to herself because she wanted it to be private, just the two of them. Then she was too ashamed to tell anyone. And although the men she was friends with at Station 58, men who were like brothers to her, teased her about dating or not dating, she never said a word about her disaster. It was too humiliating. But, with Patrick, things were different. For one thing, he was now part of the McNally's Pub family. While, on the one hand, it meant he was vetted by people she trusted, on the other, there might not be a lot of chance for privacy. People would see them out together. Would note the change in their attitudes toward each other. They would ask questions. When you were involved with someone, it was almost impossible to act as if nothing was happening. And will it be happening, Kristi? She'd just have to see as they went along, assuming he even wanted another date with her after tonight. Oh, for heaven's sake, shut up and get dressed. It had been so long since she'd been on an actual date, she wasn't sure she remembered how to put herself together. Patrick hadn't given her any idea where they'd be going, but she had a feeling jeans would not be the appropriate attire. She pulled out a pair of black dress slacks and a light-blue silk blouse, an outfit that could go almost anywhere. For the first time in ages, she took careful pains with her makeup, brushed her hair into honey-colored waves that drifted to her shoulders, and added small gold hoop earrings and a bracelet as a final touch. She took a moment to examine herself in the mirror. Admire wouldn't have been quite the word. She had long ago stopped enhancing her femininity, comfortable in her work persona. Now, with unexpected suddenness, she was nervous about tonight. Would she know how to carry on a conversation? Dates were different than "hanging out." Would he like her perfume? Was she wearing too much? Holy s**t, Kristi. Get it together.
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