Page 56 of Nanny for the Firefighter

“Bridget. It’s fine.”

I eye him right back. “It’s more than fine. I remembered the spicy mustard. So?”

Our stares connect, and it’s like a light switch flips in the room. What was in the dark is suddenly illuminated.

Or maybe it’s more like the slow gas leak that’s been building up between us has finally found a spark and everything is exploding.

Maybe it’s the conversation I had with my mom, with Meredith.

But something is different.

And some part of me knows there’s no going back now.

Mason’s stare burns into me, licking down my spine with an intoxicating focus. I feel like the only person in the entire world right now, trapped under his intense gaze.

“You’re not going to leave it, are you?”

Mason’s voice is gruff and quiet, and I know without a doubt that he’s not talking about the sandwich.

“I…” My voice trembles in return, and I have to swallow hard to find it again. “It’s not just me, Mason. You could just take the food or…”

The air hangs so thick with tension that I can feel it on my skin. Several long moments pass where we just stare at each other, and I’m caught there—a fly in a spiderweb.

Faster than I can process, Mason yanks me down onto his lap, and his lips crash into mine. The air flies out of my lungs, and that dormant spark is reignited again, flaring higher into the stratosphere than ever before.

He feels like heaven, even better than last time, but my brain spins too hard, kicking up images of Hudson and Mia.

“Wait,” I mumble against his lips before pulling myself back enough to speak, “we shouldn’t.”

Mason grips me, holding me to his chest as one of his hands cups the side of my face.

“What do you mean?”

My stare drops, and there’s a terrible ache in my chest that makes my eyes sting.

“You’re Hudson’s best friend. You have a daughter to be concerned about. I can’t…I can’t mess up your life. You’d be dragged into all my shit, and that’s wrong. I won’t do that to you.”

“Bridget,” Mason’s tone is so deep, and he pulls my face up to look at him with both hands, “I want to be dragged into all your shit.”

He chuckles, and I can’t help but do the same. Mason’s thumb brushes over my cheek, gentle and soothing.

“All I have ever wanted—since I was a damn teenager—is you. No one else. Even when…you know. It was still you, Songbird.”

The furious ache in my chest cracks me open, and tears flow despite me fighting them back.

“I’m such a mess. Why would you want that?”

He kisses me softly before resting his forehead on mine. “No one is perfect. No one has it all figured out. But I’m tired of waiting for this, Bridget. I want to do this—withyou.”

As I meet his eyes, all I see in their glowing depths is warmth. He’s been so open with me since I arrived.Since before I left.

I’ve always wanted Mason, even when I wasn’t supposed to, and for the first time in years, I’m not scared of the man who’s holding me in his arms so tight.

There’s a beat of silence where Mason searches my expression, waiting for my response.

I’ve never been excellent with words when I’m under pressure, though. So, I go with what I know he’ll understand.

My lips meet his again, and I fully give myself to the feeling.

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