Free Into The Flames (Firehouse Fourteen Book 4) by Lisa B. Kamps

full glass. Where in the hell had she found wine? Dale didn't drink it, didn't have any in the house.
    No, that was wrong. There had been a bottle in the back of the cabinet, left over from the last time Lauren and Kenny had been by. Leave it to Lauren to find it and bring it out, to offer it to Smurfette. Dale just hoped she was a fast drinker.
    "Guess what, guys? Melanie has never been to a hockey game. She's never even seen one before."
    "Why am I not surprised?" Dale muttered the words as he moved past them to the dining room, looking for his beer. From the look on Lauren's face, he must have been louder than he realized. She frowned at him, but only for a second because her expression cleared, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
    She raised her glass and touched it against Smurfette's then took a small sip. Dale grabbed his own beer, ready to drain it.
    "So she's coming with us this weekend."
    Dale paused, the bottle halfway to his mouth. He stared at Lauren, thinking he must have missed something. "Who's coming where?"
    "Melanie. She's coming to the game with us this weekend. I told her she could drive with you."
    Dale stared at Lauren, his mouth hanging open in shock. Then, very slowly and very deliberately, he tilted the bottle and drained it, placed it on the table, and stalked into the kitchen.
    This called for something stronger than beer. A lot stronger.

Chapter Seven
     
    Melanie heard the knock, knew instantly who it was. Him. Her neighbor. Dale. She knew not just because it was close to the time they were supposed to leave but also because of the knock itself. Hard. Demanding. Full of authority. It was just so…so… him .
    And was she really going to a hockey game? Was she really? Not just with him , but with his sister and her boyfriend and 18,000 other complete strangers. What had ever possessed her to say yes to something so barbaric and out of character?
    Melanie frowned. Now that she thought about it, actually consciously thought about it, she didn't think she ever really said yes. His sister had said something, that led to her saying something else about something, and suddenly Melanie heard that she was going to a hockey game. She hadn't even agreed, or even disagreed. She wished she could say it was because she had been so surprised and caught off-guard but that wasn't the case. No, if she was honest, she had to admit—to herself, at least—that the reason she hadn't said anything was because of him . Because he had looked so surprised and so speechless and so discombobulated and so…frantic. Yes, he had actually looked frantic, like a wild animal caught in a trap he couldn't escape from.
    And now here he was, knocking on her door. To take her to a hockey game. She was actually really going to a hockey game. Together. With him .
    Not him . He had a name. Dale. She needed to start thinking of him as Dale and not him . But oh sweets, she was afraid to. It was much safer to think of him as…well, him .
    The knock sounded again, a little harder, a little more forceful. He—Dale—was probably getting impatient. Well, let him. He was early and she wasn't quite ready yet so he could just wait.
    Except she was ready. She was dressed, she had her small bag hanging across her body, with her wallet and keys. She didn't need anything else. All she needed to do was walk across the room and open the door and that would be that.
    Melanie took a deep breath for courage then moved to the door, pulling it open just as he was about to knock again. His hand kept moving forward, meeting air, and he stumbled, catching his balance a second before his body would have tumbled against hers. Melanie took a hasty step back, her heart pounding. Why? From excitement? Ridiculous. Why would she be excited?
    Maybe he—Dale—was attractive. Okay, yes. He was attractive, no maybe about it. Tall. Hair the color of light coffee mixed with shades of peanut, not too short, not too long, a little shaggy on the top. Deep brown eyes,