“Romero kept putting me off when I tried to set him up with my best friend’s sister for the Firefighters Ball next week, but I guess he just didn’t want to tell us he was bringing you,” Leon said with a wink. “Astrid is going to be really disappointed.”
“Maisey or not, I wasn’t taking Astrid anywhere, probie,” I grunted out.
I turned and headed for the stairs again, and this time, when the ping rang against glass, it was from a single knife. Looking over my shoulder once again, I found Stoney holding it.
“This isn’t a wedding reception, asshole.”
“Afraid to kiss the bride already, Romeo? You sure aren’t living up to your nickname.”
Damn him. Damn them all.
I reacted without thinking, sweeping Maisey into my arms, bending her backward, and planting my lips on hers.
It was supposed to be fast and light. Just enough to prove a point. But as soon as my mouth covered hers, every single spark, every single inch of chemistry that had been wafting through me for days now, burst into a fiery swell. Electricity shot through me from head to toe. Aching lust and pent-up need flooded my veins as the scent of her, that heady flowery smell that felt like coming home, surrounded me.
Instead of kissing her and backing off as I’d intended, I deepened the embrace, dragging my tongue along the seam of her mouth as if we didn’t have an audience. I was rewarded with a little gasp that added fuel to the fire burning inside me—oxygen and dry wood being thrown on an already out-of-control inferno.
Her hands tightened on my shoulders, and her heartbeat slammed against mine. It cracked the hard shell I had hiding the pink, tender skin beneath the charred exterior. Like lava seeping through granite, it threatened an upcoming disaster. I was a volcano ready to blow, and when I did, it would be impossible to return to my previous state.
But at the moment, I didn’t care. I only wanted to feed the fire. I wanted to feel her pressed up against me with nothing between us but skin. I wanted to listen to her gasps and whimpers and hear her chant my name in a whole new way, throaty and hoarse and full of desire.
A wolf whistle brought me back to reality.
To the loft in the fire station with my crew looking on.
I pulled back far enough to look down into her face.
Her blush had taken on a life of its own, curling over her from forehead to neck.
But the soft green of her eyes had turned as dark as a creek nearing the end of summer. Thick and slow and sensual.
And that was when the alarm sounded inside me.
I righted us both, twining our hands together to keep up appearances, before dragging us down the staircase. I hollered at my crew, “That’s enough of a show for you losers. Finish your meal and get to work washing the wagon.”
I was proud my voice sounded steady, even though inside my body was a tumultuous riot—desire and regret taking turns with doubt and fear.
We were past the engine and almost to the roll-up doors before she said, “I don’t think that was you keeping your hands to yourself.”
Usually, I’d bite back a tease, but I couldn’t. Because at the moment, the last thing I wanted was to keep my hands to myself. I wanted more of the heat and lust Maisey promised beneath her gentle façade. I wanted the passion I’d always known existed inside her but had now experienced firsthand.
I cleared my throat but dropped my voice to a whisper as I looked over my shoulder to make sure Stoney hadn’t followed us. “You were right. We’ll have to convince people we’re in love and not just getting married for the job. Otherwise, this won’t work. At home, when the door closes, I promise to keep my hands to myself.”
I’d have to find a way to do just that—for her sake as well as for my own. Because touching her in the privacy of my house, near a bed, would not end well for either of us.
Outside on the drive, I stopped and finally risked looking at her again. She’d pulled herself together. The blush had disappeared, but so had all the emotion. And because I really disliked it when she shut down, I did the opposite of what I’d just told her. I touched her, running a finger along a smooth cheek.
She grabbed my hand and pulled it away. “No one is here now. That’s two romance books you owe me.”
I glanced up to the second floor of the firehouse. No bodies appeared in the windows, but you never knew. Maisey’s eyes briefly followed mine.
Quiet settled between us. Not quite awkward but more uncomfortable than it had been between us in a long time.
It was Maisey who broke the silence, asking, “The Firefighters Ball isnext week?”
I nodded. “With the chief, the mayor, and the entire city council there, it would be the perfect opportunity for us to announce our engagement.”
“You were planning on going stag like always, weren’t you? How are you going to get a ticket?” she asked, swinging her keys again.