Page 5 of Controlled Burn

“They are for sure.”

“Awesome. So, did you get that book in you were telling me about last time? The one about the dragon rider who has his weapons tattooed on his body?”

“Oh yeah, we did. I’ll check and see if there’s a copy available, and if so, I’ll put it back for you.”

“Thanks, Caleb. I appreciate that.”

“No problem.”

“Okay, I’m gonna head on in and get set up. I have something to hand out for them this week besides the usual coloring books. Hopefully, they’ll like it.” He grabbed the bag off the counter and headed for the meeting room where we held story time each week.

I watched him go even though I knew I shouldn’t, but the way that man filled out a pair of jeans was flat-out mouthwatering. Being a firefighter meant staying fit, but come on, they didn’t all look like that, and I knew because not only was my dad a firefighter like Keith, but I’d met all his friends, and none of them were that hot.

Giles chuckled and shook his head. “Not your firefighter, my ass.”

“He isn’t, and you know it. Besides, even if I was interested—and I’m not—he doesn’t think of me that way. In his mind, I’m just a kid. Robert Callihan’s son and nothing more.”

Giles and I had this conversation every time Keith came in, and I wasn’t interested in doing it again. Not only was he my dad’s best friend and way older than me, but he was just as much of a player as my dad was. At least, that’s what I’d heard.

All of that, plus he was a firefighter, and if I’d learned nothing else from my parents’ disaster of a divorce, it was that I didn’t want that life for myself. So Keith Brooks may be the sexiest man I knew, and he may even be kind and smart and love to read, but he wasn’t for me.

“I’m going to go grab that book he wanted, and then I need to get our newest book order cataloged and ready to shelf. You know where to find me if you need me.”

I had better things to do than sit at the front desk and gossip with Giles, and someone else could take care of story time today. I’d spent enough time on previous visits watching Keith do his firefighter spiel for the kids, and it was just too freaking adorable. Seriously, was there anything sexier than a big, burly guy sitting on the floor playing with a bunch of little kids? If so, I didn’t know what it was.

By the time I heard the clattering of small feet and excited little voices that let me know they were finished in the meeting room, I’d sorted and checked almost all the new stock. I was tempted to go up front and make sure Giles gave Keith that book I’d dropped off up there, but that was just silliness. Giles knew how to do his job, and Keith knew to ask for the book. There was no reason for me to go up there.

“Stupid, sexy fireman,” I grumbled, shoving the box of books on the cart so I could take them to the front. There was one more box of books here somewhere, though. I was the one who placed the order for a set of native plant gardening books for the Master Gardeners group, and they should be here.

I looked around and finally found them on the top shelf. Dammit. They were going to be heavy, too. I didn’t know who thought putting them up there was a good idea. I reached up, grabbed the side, slid the box as far forward as I could without it falling, and then I put one hand on the bottom to catch it. Then I braced myself just in case and gave it a pull, but it was seriously heavy. Just as I realized I wasn’t going to be able to hold on to it, I felt a body behind me, and the box went weightless. I swung around to see Keith standing there holding it.

“Where do you want it?” he asked in a disapproving tone.

“Right there on that table will be fine.”

“I came back here to thank you for the book. Good thing I did. That box was too heavy for you to be lifting like that.”

“I wasn’t lifting it. I was taking it down. Besides, I had it,” I lied.

Keith lifted one eyebrow and looked at me. “If you say so. I expected you to come in for story time. I gave all the kids their own personal compass.”

“I bet they liked that.”

“They did.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black compass. “Do you want one? They aren’t anything fancy or anything, but they’re real. They work and everything.”

I looked at the compass in his outstretched hand. I shouldn’t take it. He bought them for the kids, and I wasn’t a kid. But I reached out and took it because, silly as it was, Keith was giving it to me.

“I’m seriously directionally challenged,” I said. “I can never remember which way is north.”

“Are you? You know, I read somewhere one time that having trouble with directions is a sign of being highly intelligent.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. It has something to do with all those thoughts going on up there.” He reached out and tapped the side of my head. “Instead of being aware of what’s going on out here.” He motioned around us. “So maybe that compass will come in handy.”

“Maybe it will.” I appreciated him saying that about having trouble with directions being a sign of intelligence. But what wasn’t a sign of being intelligent was telling hot firemen you’re directionally challenged. There was no reason he needed to know that.

I was trying to think of something less stupid to say when Giles hurried up to us.

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