Hard to Resist - By Kara Lennox Page 0,29
The buzzers were loud enough to wake Kat, even if she was comatose. She’d also bought three fire extinguishers, one for each room. Maybe that was overkill, but the sight of all those red canisters was reassuring.
“If we had a fire, how do the firemen know where we are?” Samantha asked.
“That’s a good question. And you know who would know the answer? Mr. Basque.”
“Mr. Basque? Oh, the fireman.” Sam’s upturned nose wrinkled in distaste.
“Not just any fireman, but the one who rescued us. And Bashira. And I have to let you in on a little secret. This apartment…Mr. Basque owns it. He’s letting us live here until we can find a bigger place. He’s the one who fixed it up and painted the walls while we were gone today. In fact, he lives in the big house.”
Samantha’s eyes widened in alarm. “You mean that house right there? Right in the yard?” She pointed out the window. Although it was dark, she had the general direction right.
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“Is he there right now?”
“Yes. I imagine he’s asleep.”
“He won’t come in here, will he?”
“Not unless we invite him. But, Samantha, I think we should invite him. He’s offered to go over every inch of this place and make sure we’re one-hundred-percent safe. He puts out fires every day, so he knows all about how fires start. Now who better to show us how to be safe?”
“I don’t want him here.”
“Even if it’s just for a few minutes, so we can be safer? Personally, I’ll sleep better at night knowing we’ve done everything we can to protect ourselves, and I bet you will, too.”
Samantha wavered. “Will you be here?”
“Of course.”
“Okay, I guess he can come over, but only for two minutes.” Then she yawned. “Will you get in bed with me? Just until I fall back asleep.”
Kat considered that a reasonable request.
They snuggled spoon fashion—Kat, Samantha and Bashira, who didn’t seem to mind being squashed against Sam’s stomach. He purred so loudly it sounded as if a small lawn mower was in bed with them.
At least Sam had regained her affection for her kitten. And she’d agreed to let Ethan come over, even if it was only for two minutes.
Baby steps.
* * *
ETHAN WHISTLED as he loaded sheets and towels from the B shift into a large-capacity washing machine. Laundry was an easy chore. He could do it whenever he decided to, so long as everything was dry and folded by the time his shift was over.
“Somebody’s happy,” said Priscilla, as Ethan wandered into the kitchen to find a snack. She and Tony sat at the table, playing poker.
“Are you guys still at it?”
“We’ve created a monster,” Tony said. “Priscilla is the luckiest poker player I’ve ever seen, not to mention the most ruthless. She’s bleeding me dry.”
“Better quit while you’re ahead,” Ethan cautioned her. “Lucky streaks don’t last forever.”
“Not luck. Skill. I’ve got this game figured out. Any moron can win.”
“We better check my IQ, then,” Tony said, “’cause I’m losing.”
“You guys can’t think of something better to do?”
“Like what?” Tony shuffled the cards and dealt another hand of five-card draw. “I suppose you’ve been engaged in some noble activity that gives you deep, inner satisfaction at the same time it’s making the world a better place.”
“No, I’ve been doing laundry,” he admitted. He opened the C-shift fridge, frowned at the meager offerings, then checked the pantry. Half a box of chicken-flavored crackers. “We need to go shopping.” He settled for a cold Diet Coke and sat down at the table. “Deal me in.”
“So what’s got you so chipper?” Tony asked. “Is it Kat?”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact. She asked me to come over tomorrow night.” For a safety inspection, not a date, but still. If all went well, he planned to turn the evening into something more personal.
“Nice work,” Tony said. “Think you’ll kiss her?”
Priscilla kicked Tony under the table. “You’re not in high school anymore. No wonder your girlfriends never stick around long, if you take that attitude.”
“Hey, low blow.”
“You’re the one who told me your relationships have longevity issues. I didn’t make it up.”
Ethan was glad the conversation had turned away from Kat. She was too important to trivialize with such talk. She was special. And he had a date with her tomorrow.
Okay, it was only a two-minute date. But if he couldn’t make progress with Samantha, there was still Plan B.
He’d wanted to kiss Kat again when they’d been sitting on his deck, he’d settled for