Page 65 of Five Alarm Kiss

It would be a horrible idea to strip off her leggings and sweatshirt and hop in with him. And she definitely shouldn’t slide her hands over the hard planes of his chest and down the ridged muscles of his abdomen before she tasted his?—

“Fudgsicles! Stop already!”

She pushed off the couch and walked over to the fireplace. It was an actual wood-burning fireplace as opposed to an electricone, like most houses had these days. His house couldn’t be very old, so she wondered if he specifically requested a wood-burner. Who knows? Maybe he liked chopping wood.

Shirtless.

Glistening with sweat under the hot rays of the sun.

Jeans slung low with the top button undone, so all she had to do was slide them down and?—

“Oh, my heck! Get a grip!”

On his large, throbbing?—

Laurel scrunched her face and growled in frustration. “You are such a horndogger!”

“I’m a what?”

She squeaked and spun around, and the air dissipated from her lungs.

Holy Mary mother of marshmallows!

Jake was standing in the archway of the hall, bare-chested, rubbing his wet hair with a towel, wearing?—

911! Call 911! Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!

Gray sweatpants.

She was fairly certain her eyes bugged out of her head. She’d never seen a more perfect man’s body. Jake wasn’t built like a bodybuilder with bulging, overly exaggerated muscles and arms that couldn’t touch his sides because they were so freakishly huge. Instead, he was all reined-in power and sculpted, lean muscle honed from a physically demanding profession and hard work. And the way he filled out those sweats…

Her jaw dropped on an inhale. For the life of her, she couldn’t seem to shut it, so she nonchalantly covered it with her hand—because randomly slapping a hand over your mouth was something everyone did. She cringed internally, praying she hadn’t drooled on her shirt.

Tearing her eyes away from the promised land, she forced herself to look up... right into Jake’s glacially bright, blue eyes. She immediately dropped her hand when his lips twitched.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He rubbed the towel down his still damp chest to his waistband.

Laurel bit her lip—also nonchalantly, of course.

“Yesterday was laundry day,” he explained casually, as if he wasn’t incinerating her by his mere, half-dressed presence. “I may not be the best at emptying the dryer. Gotta grab a shirt.” He flashed a knowing grin. “Be right back.”

She nodded like a bobblehead before feasting on the dimples in his lower back as he turned and walked into the laundry room. She had a clear view because those sinful sweatpants were hanging low on his hips. So low, she could probably reveal what was behind door number one with a single tug.

Oh, my heck! What’s wrong with me?

She turned around and pressed a hand to her chest. Her heart was beating like she’d chased six-year-olds around the playground for half an hour.

She wasn’t one to ogle men, and she didn’t sleep with guys on the first date—or one and a who-knows-what-it-was dates either. So, why was she tallying all the reasons sheshouldsleep with Jake? And why couldn’t she stop?

The object of her obsession emerged from the laundry room. “Better?”

Laurel glanced over her shoulder. Jake was wearing a red T-shirt with the fire station insignia in white. His skin must’ve still been a little damp because the shirt clung to the hard planes of his chest.

No, not better.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed like her mouth was glued shut, not trusting herself to form words yet. At least her tongue wasn’t hanging out. “This is nice,” she said after an uncomfortablesilence, gesturing to a framed photo on the mantel. When Jake raised a brow, she followed his gaze to find she was actually pointing at a dead plant.

Whelp.

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