Page 56 of Five Alarm Kiss

Chalk one up for the bad boy.

Chapter Fourteen

It’d been four days since they’d gone axe throwing, and Laurel still couldn’t get Jake’s words out of her head.

“You’ve never been with a bad boy, Laurel. But you want to. With me.”

She groaned and tossed the kitchen towel she was holding onto the counter by the stove. Today was the last day of school. She loved her job, but by the time summer rolled around, she was ready for a break. It’d only been a four-day week, with today being a half-day. To celebrate, she’d decided to make fried chicken, instead of eating one of her premade meals. Call it a late lunch or early dinner, she really didn’t care which, because she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and was starving. Plus, it was something to focus on other than a certain hot fireman.

Yeah, good luck with that.

The chicken still had a way to go until it was done. At least, she thought so. She’d never made it before, but having to concentrate on a new recipe had kept her brain occupied and off of Jake.

She walked around the kitchen table to her couch and flopped down on the cushions. Her apartment was small, but thecheaper rent made the lack of extra space worth it, since she was trying to save money to buy a house.

Her parents had pointed out multiple times she’d already own one if she was on a college professor’s salary—another dig at her choice to stay at the grade school—but she didn’t care. She’d almost saved up enough for a decent down payment and hoped to be able to start house shopping next summer after the school year ended.

She sank into the throw pillows on the couch with a sigh. The school year had ended on a Thursday this year, for which she’d never been more grateful. The kids had been wired higher than a power station today, and another day of summeritus crazy would probably have been the death of her.

Still, it was a little sad knowing they’d be moving on, and she wouldn’t have them in her class next year. She always got attached to her students, and this year was no different. One of the bittersweet parts of her job... missing their little faces smiling back at her from their desks. But she’d still get to see them, since they’d be at the same school next year. That was a perk of teaching first grade. She had five more years of running into them in the halls. She honestly didn’t know how Amy handled teaching sixth grade. When her kids moved on, they went to the junior high miles away.

Laurel had a handful of weeks to sleep in before she began tutoring a few kids on the side. Last year, some of her students’ parents had asked if they could hire her for one-on-one summer sessions with their children. Since she hadn’t had anything planned while school was out of session, she’d said yes. A few other parents had heard about it, and instead of the two children she’d tutored last summer, this year, she’d be working with five. It was actually perfect. It gave her something to occupy her time, since she always went a little stir-crazy during the summer months, and she could put extra money toward her house fund.

The only real responsibility she had before tutoring started was working on invitations for a fundraising dinner her mom was co-chairing with a colleague from the college. They were raising money for a scholarship fund, and since Laurel had taken up calligraphy as a hobby in high school, her mom had put her penmanship skills to work.

Not that Laurel minded. Spending time addressing two-hundred-fifty invitations was a lot better than getting suckered into being on the decorating committee. Aside from doing the invitations—which she’d already finished—she only had to make an appearance at the fundraiser to appease her parents, and that would conclude her “Mom” obligations.

Laurel closed her eyes, leaned her head back, and started rubbing her temples. She loved her mom, but got quite enough “advice” seeing her as often as she did. If she’d had to spend more captive time with her doing extensive decorating, it would’ve been exhausting. There were only so many times you could hear how bad your career choices were before it got to you.

She was already drained listening to her dad razz her about her almost-wedding every time she saw him. She shouldn’t let it bother her, but the Chinese water torture was designed to wear its victims down slowly, until they cracked. And Laurel felt like she was about to crack.

She was afraid to imagine what her parents would say if they knew she was dating a firefighter. Doctors, lawyers, high-powered executives… that’s who she was supposed to be with. Not a blue-collar public servant like a fireman. Never mind the fact they put their lives on the line every day to save said doctors and lawyers and everyone else who needed help. According to her parents, if a guy didn’t have a fancy degree and a six-figure salary, he wasn’t worth her time.

Laurel groaned and covered her face with her hands. When did her parents become such snobs? Had they always been thatway, and she’d just never noticed it when she was young? She may be a huge disappointment in their eyes, and that was fine, but she wouldn’t stand for them putting down Jake. Not that she’d ever let her parents meet him. She and Jake weren’t even in a serious relationship, so why would she introduce him to her parents anyway?

Ugh, get a grip. We’re not in a relationship at all, let alone a serious one.

They’d only been on two dates, which hardly constituted a relationship. And did axe throwing even count as a second date, since Emery had coerced him into going?

But he had kissed her—wow, had he kissed her—and insinuated doing a lot more than that, so…

With a frustrated sigh, she rolled over and face-planted into the couch cushions, whimpering “fudgesicles” as her vivid imagination filled in the blanks.

What in bells is wrong with me? I can’t fall for the bad boy.

But was he really a bad boy?

“Do you want to know what I’m thinking, Laurel?”

Remembering the heat in his eyes when he’d asked that made her core clench, and she tingled all the way to her toes.

Heck, yes, she’d wanted to know what he’d been thinking! If she was a braver person, she’d have made him tell her all the dirty things occupying his mind—she’d imagined they’d been dirty. At least, she’d hoped they’d been dirty. Then she’d have made him act them out. With her.

Cranberries! This is ridiculous!

Jake was a flirt. A self-professed bad boy. Did she really want a relationship with him? Did bad boys even do relationships? Maybe he was strictly in it for the sex, even though she’d been telling him from the beginning she wasn’t going to sleep with him.

Then I melt in his arms every time he kisses me. If that’s not a mixed message, I don’t know what is.

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