Page 8 of Turning Up the Heat

I half-sighed, half-giggled. “I know, Mars, but you do not understand the Miller dynamics. If things went sideways—whenthey went sideways, because let’s face it, they always freaking do—life would get very messy. And I can’t cut and run like I usually do. I have this bakery now. I’m here. No back-up plan.” I leveled my gaze at him. “It’s a bad idea.”

“Perhaps, but it would be afunbad idea.” Mars waggled his brows at me.

“Mars!” I slugged him on the shoulder. “Stop it! I can’t go there.”

“That’s exactly what makes me know deep-down in my dark little soul that you will get with him. I’m betting by Thanksgiving.”

“Nope. No way.” I shook my head with force.

“Uh-huh, sure.” Mars winked at me, a playful grin on his face. “How much do you want to bet?”

“Fifty dollars.”

“Deal. You owe me fifty bucks when you kiss him.”

“IfI kiss him. Which I’m not going to do.” I stuck my hand out and we shook on it.

I was totally confident that I’d be making fifty dollars soon. Because there was no way I could risk losing everything for a fling—with my brother’s best friend, no less—no matter how hot he was.

* * *

Despite my personal misgivings, two hours later we had four batches of lemon bars ready to deliver to Fire Station 54.

“You take them over, Mars. I’m gonna just clean up here and hit the hay.”

“Uh-uh. No way. You’re coming. Otherwise I might be out fifty bucks.” Grabbing me by the arm, he dragged me towards the door. “Here’s your coat, missy. It’s cold out.” He handed me my white puffer jacket, wrapping a charcoal scarf around his neck.

“Fine,” I said, sighing. “But we’re dropping them off, then bolting. I don’t have time to mingle, I’m exhausted and the grand opening is tomorrow. We still have a lot to do!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” He shoved me towards the door, cutting the lights on his way out.

We piled into the only vehicle we had between us, a white delivery truck withLanie’sscrawled in baby blue paint across the side. It wasn’t particularly sexy, but I could only afford one car right now, so it had to be practical. The van was big enough to hold wedding cakes, dozens of cookies, platters of pastries, whatever needed to be delivered. Backing out of my parking spot, I eased onto Main Street and turned right. The bakery was conveniently located only a block away from the fire station. If we didn’t have a huge tray of lemon bars and it wasn’t forty degrees, we could have walked.

I pulled into the lot. Josh’s SUV was there, but Ben’s truck wasn’t. At least there’d only be one brother assessing the situation.

I parked and Mars jumped out of his seat, eager to carry in the goodies.

“Geez, calm down, Mars,” I said, ribbing him. “This isn’t Fashion Week, it’s a regular old night at the fire station.”

“What? I can’t be excited to share treats with our hardworking first responders?”

I rolled my eyes, shoving my hands into my pockets as we walked to the station’s doors. It was freakishly cold for November in the South.

“Just relax. They’ll love you, you’re with me,” I said, ringing the station’s bell.

“I’m not worried,” Mars said, even as he shuffled from foot to foot, the giant tray of lemon bars jostling in his hands.

The door swung open. “Delaney! Mars! What are you guys doing here?” Josh gave me a quick hug, then stepped aside, ushering us in.

“Just dropping off some lemon bars for you and the guys,” I said. “To show our appreciation. And to plug our grand opening tomorrow.”

“Great.” Josh scooped the tray from Mars. “Can’t wait to dig in.”

“Man, this is so cool.” Mars looked around the large room in awe. “I’ve never actually been in a fire station before.”

“Really?” Josh asked.

“Really,” Mars confirmed.

---