EXCERPT:

Jack Carrington watched the pretty girl with short curly hair snatch up her off-beat friend’s hand and drag her to a nearby bench. Letting out a huge rush of air, he relaxed, surprised to find he’d held his breath. In fact, he’d taken in his last breath right before she’d sat down in the car. In his, car not that he couldn’t imagine the sexy, fiery woman in the car. He could easily picture her in the back seat, her head pushed against the soft leather of the car door and her even softer legs wrapped around his waist. He studied her, liking the way she crossed, then uncrossed her legs. She grinned at her friend and he couldn’t help but grin, too.

“Damn, some babes are too weird for comfort. For a minute, I thought the girl with the porcupine hairdo might haul off and whack the guy.” Carl Metters, Jack’s best friend, took a chunk out of his sandwich. “Too bad. I think she’d have taken him.”

Jack shrugged, uninterested in Carl’s opinion of the girl’s fighting ability. Even if her friend was hotter than hell. He’d do well to forget about her. “I’ve got to own that car. After all, am I or am I not the best damn paramedic in the city? Hell, the best in the state.”

Muffled words stumbled out of Carl’s mouth. “You betcha.” Swallowing, he added with a grin, “Next to me, of course.”

Jack snorted. “Yeah, right. And being the best-” Refusing to bend to Carl’s ego, he continued, “-paramedic in the whole damn state makes me the best driver in the state. So, by all rights, the best driver should own a damn fine car.” He jabbed his finger at the Porsche. “That car.”

Carl engulfed another huge bite. “When you’re right, you’re right, my friend. Except, of course, about who’s the best driver.”

“Come on.” Coffee sloshed over the edge of Carl’s drink as Jack tugged him through the throng of people milling around the mall’s lobby. He made a beeline toward the sign and flyers. “Let’s find out how I’m going to get this car.”

He perused the flyer and relief flooded through him. “I’ve got this in the bag, man. Who has more of the ultimate holiday spirit than a man who works every holiday in the service of others? And I ask you, who’s more deserving of a new car than a life-saving paramedic?”

Carl, called “Jaws” by his fellow paramedics for both his skill with the mechanical jaws of life and his eating prowess, chewed on. “Sure. No problem.” “Good.” Jack ached to touch the shiny blue surface, but remembered the guard’s reaction to the pretty brunette. Instead, he cooed to the car, much like a doting father would to a child at bedtime. “Say hello to Papa, baby.”

“Excuse me, but don’t get your hopes up, bud. Baby Blue is as good as delivered. To me.”

Jack swung toward the lilting voice and came face to face-or rather her face to his chest-with slitted dark eyes. Those sparkling pools of cocoa ripped all thoughts of the car from him. Suddenly, he fell into their waters without a care for their unknown depths. “What’d you say?”

“Take me. Throw me in your new car and fuck me hard, Jack.”

Wait. Had she really said that? “Huh?”

A sculpted eyebrow shifted upward over a cute button of a nose scattered with adorable freckles. Her face, a perfect oval, presented a magnificent cream canvas for her rosy lips, stretched thin in a direct challenge. “My Baby Blue. You’re talking about my car. I’m going to win Baby Blue, so you may as well save your time and forget about entering.”

I wonder if she’s as fiery in bed. Or maybe she has to be in a car to go wild? Yeah, I’d rather think of her in the back seat like before. But wait. I wonder what she’d be like in the back of an ambulance? Some women go crazy doing it with the siren blaring.

“Baby Blue?” His mind refused to cooperate except to note how the material of her uniform hugged her full breasts. Full yet perky breasts. From what he could see, they were the perfect size for his hands.

Knock it off, Jack. She’s just a girl. One helluva sexy girl.

The words Foto Fancy called his gaze to her left breast where her name tag Hi, I’m Angie hung sideways. He gave up trying to fight the attraction and studied the curve of her breasts peeking out from under her top.

“Yeah, I named him.” She snapped her fingers under his nose, breaking the hold her chest held on his brain. “Ya wanna stop slobbering over my boobs and get your head-” she jerked her chin higher, then fastened her gaze on his eyes, “-the head on your shoulders, I mean, into the conversation? I don’t care what you do with the other head pointed my way just as long as you keep it zipped up tight.”

He shook his head, unsure of why he was doing so, and concentrated on her soft glowing face. Her glowing, glowering face. He was all for a girl having spirit because they were usually the most adventurous in bed, but maybe she had too much. It might be better if her attitude matched her angelic features. At least a little. Still, why not have a little fun with her? “What makes you so sure you’re going to win? You don’t seem like the Mother Teresa type to me.”

The rise of her chest with her sharp intake of air made him do the same. God, her tits are incredible. I’d love to nibble on those headlights. His gaze slid lower. Then I’d shuck all those clothes and check under her hood.

Angie glared at him. “I’ll win her because I deserve her. Baby Blue and I are meant for each other.”

How could he make her take another big breath? He swallowed, caught up in his craving to see her chest heave again, and almost forgot to follow their conversation. Maybe if she takes a big enough breath, the buttons will pop off.

Carl snickered and punched Jack in the arm. “Don’t be so sure. We’re paramedics and you know how people love paramedics. We’re heroes, you know.”

Shut up, Carl. Let her talk. I want to hear her voice again.

Carl squared off in front of the prickly-haired girl who stood next to Angie. Munching on the candy he always kept stored in his pockets, Carl attempted to match the intensity of the other woman’s expression and failed. Uneasy about what the strange girl might do, Jack elbowed Carl, breaking the staring standoff between them.

“Ha! Heroes? I don’t think so. Glorified orderlies is what you are.” “Spike”, as Jack nicknamed her, planted her feet, crossed her arms, and sneered at Carl.

Carl sputtered at the insult and muttered a curse under his breath. Seizing the moment to get the conversation on civil ground, Jack jumped in, taking the heat off his friend. Besides, he couldn‘t let her get away with the glorified orderly comment, could he? “Really? Then I guess if you were injured in a car wreck you wouldn’t want any glorified orderly saving your pretty little butt and getting you to the hospital in the nick of time?”

Damn, she’s cute when she’s hunting for a come-back. He forged ahead, keeping her off balanced for as long as possible. “So Angie, I guess you’re a Good Samaritan Extraordinaire, huh? Tell me. Where do you do your good deeds?” He gestured at her name tag. “At Foto Fancy?”

A quick thrill surged through him at her blush. The pale pink hue made him happy even though he couldn’t pinpoint why. He wondered if she’d blush in bed and he fought the sudden desire to throw her over his shoulder, drag her home and find out.

Angie’s glare intensified. “None of your damn business.”

A cold chill ran through him and he faced Spike, determined to break the strange fixation Angie held over him. She was an amazing girl, but he had to keep his mind on the business of winning his car. Spike sported the same uniformed top and an identification tag claiming her name to the world.

“Sasha, I’m not the one getting all antagonistic here. You and Angie started this conversation. Don’t blame me if Carl and I hold our own against your attacks.”

Glancing at Carl, he noticed he’d stopped eating. For the first time in recent memory, Carl held a piece of food and didn’t immediately shove it into his mouth. His burly friend stood awe-struck, waiting for Sasha to say something else.

“Who started the conversation doesn’t matter much. Who finishes it, matters the most.” Sasha gave Carl a strange look before turning away to glower at him.

Shit, Sasha’s a real ball-buster. But why’s Carl sniffing her out like a dog in heat? Good old conservative Carl isn’t attracted to the weird bitch, is he? Jack darted his gaze between the two, not ready to admit what his intuition told him. Sure, Sasha’s body put most girls’ physiques to shame but she couldn’t hold a candle to her friend. Angie would make any testosterone-filled male beat his chest and holler. He didn’t dare glance down and see if his johnson was already flying high.

Determined to get on better footing, he splashed on his best smile and showered all his charm on Angie. “How about we agree to disagree? After all, we’re not going to be the only ones going for the prize, are we?” He hoped his patented dealing-with-a-possible-nut-case tone would help to ease the tension between them.

The ripple of emotions cascading over her features told him he’d struck gold with his argument. He hurried on for the close. “Besides, we’re not the judges, so our opinions don’t count. How about we wish each other luck and go on our way? Or maybe let me buy you a drink? I’m Jack Carrington and this is Carl Metters.”

He knew he’d gone too far with the drink bit. When would he learn to recognize an impossible case when he saw one? Her face hardened, tightening the lips into an even thinner line. I wonder what else she can do with those lips?

“Are you kidding me? A drink with the competition?”

Both girls laughed loud, boisterous laughs and he cringed under the scrutiny of bystanders. But Angie’s words threw him for a loop.

“I wouldn’t have a drink with you even if you gave me Baby Blue.”

Whirling around, the girls headed toward the nearest department store, glancing over their shoulders to let out a round of chuckles. When they reached another contest sign by the store’s entrance, they swiveled and wiggled their fingers at them.

Carl raised his hand to return the wave, but Jack yanked his arm down. “Don’t wave at them, man. They’re making fun of us.” Heat unrelated to his dick swelled up inside him and he wished he’d left the Nice Guy routine at home. After all, Angie may look like an angel, but she was all devil.

Yet Carl didn’t agree. “No they’re not. I think they liked us.”

Jack choked at his friend’s naiveté. “Oh, sure. They liked us. How could I have missed all the signs?”

The frown lines between Carl’s eyebrows emphasized his confusion. “Signs? What signs?”

Jerking his head at the girls, Jack quipped, “Yeah. Like the one they’re giving us right now.”

Carl followed his lead and faced the girls again. Sasha and Angie stood beside the contest sign, arms linked together as they flipped them the finger.