Page 9 of She's Got that Fire

He comes around the side to help me out of the truck, then keeps an arm around me. "Yeah. It's a great location, and came with a lot of land, so I jumped on it. Maybe someday I'll have a whole family here, who knows."

There's something odd in his tone, as if he's forcing himself to sound light. It seems strange that he would throw his intentions out in the open so soon. Or maybe it's a subtle warning for Miss Weirdo: if I'm not into the whole marriage and kids and vegetable garden situation, now would be the time for me to run.

Yeah, he’s not getting rid of me that easily.

Liam takes the camera bag from my shoulder, then holds my hand as we walk into the house. I'm relieved that the inside is clean, but less picture perfect. The bookshelf is overly stuffed in a non-artsy way. The cushions on the couch are clearly for comfort, not decoration. One end of the long dining table is set up as a makeshift office space. It's homey and comfortable, and I can already picture myself spending a lot of time here. Mainly because I already want to spend every possible moment near Liam.

We stop and he pours us each a coffee in his huge farmhouse kitchen, then we head out to the back deck. His concrete pavingstones are the fancy interlocking kind, and the barbeque is fifteen feet from the house.

Wow.Nowthat’sa barbeque.

He chuckles as my jaw drops. It could easily cook thirty burgers at once, probably more. One side has an iron grill, the other a flat surface for frying. It’s massive.

"My house is vaguely in the middle of the VFFT catchment area. So sometimes I'll have the guys back for a quick cookout. A couple of us put this monster together," he explains.

"It's amazing." I step closer, peeking into the strangely deep belly of the beast. "So you basically make a big wide campfire in here?"

"Exactly. It takes a while to create some charcoal so the heat is nice and evenly distributed. I'll show you. You can film it if you like."

Liam brings me another coffee, then I plop into a chair to watch his huge muscular frame as he quickly chops cedar logs into kindling. If I had the camera on him right now and could talk him into taking his shirt off, we could probably make a fortune. His body is a work of art.

Over the next hour, he arranges different types of fire zones across the grill. High and leggy. Short and even. Intense and bright. He's an expert at playing with flames. In less than half an hour, I get a bunch of incredible stock footage, with Liam holding flat black or white pieces of paper a foot behind the flames to create a clean background.

Quite frankly, he's the best assistant a girl could ever hope for. Yet every time we’re both at least three feet away from the heat, he finds a way to make our own. The way his palm grazes slowly across my outer thigh. My hip. The curve of my ass. The way my hand trails along his chest, slowly sliding my fingers across his abs.

This is the only time in my life I've had a camera in my hand and wanted to put it down. But I force myself to be disciplined, and I capture some incredible detailed footage. Zooming in more, I'm hypnotized by the dancing flames until Liam clears his throat.

"You're, ah, getting extremely close there."

His comment makes me realize that I'd had the lens within a foot of the flames. My feet automatically shuffle backward. "Crap. Thanks."

It feels like an amazing sign that he's not stopping me, just guiding me – even though it's clear he has reservations about what I do. He trusts me.

Once I feel like I've captured enough footage for the day, Liam makes burgers stuffed with cheese and minced red bell pepper, adding "incredible chef" to the list of things I really like about him.

I'm not accustomed to his attention to detail. Would I like extra cheese or caramelized onions on top? Do I have enough ice in my lemon seltzer? Am I a sit-in-the-sun or prefer-the-shade kind of gal? It's wonderful to feel so pampered and let him be in charge of everything.

By the time we're roasting marshmallows at twilight, our conversation has twisted all over the place, from favorite childhood foods to the best way to shop for stuff online. He loves my trick of leaving something in your cart for twenty-four hours to see if they'll poke you the next day with a discount code.

I love that even though Liam is older than me, and obviously worldly, he listens to me as if every word I say is important. He's as excited to learn from me as I am from him.

I've always been terrified what people will think when they discover I'm an artist. The oddball name doesn't exactly help. Plus my chosen subject matter is the sort of thing that puts a lot of people on edge.

We have one more marshmallow each, then curl up together on a massive bench that's more like a wooden couch. From the way his heavy arm curls around to “keep me warm”, I have a pretty good idea what he's thinking.

"Opal." His low voice is husky. "When the sun goes down, and I invite you inside, I hope you realize I'm only going to get certain ideas if you want me to." His eyebrows go up and down as he grins, but he's reading my expression carefully.

My answer is to slip my fingers into the back of his hair and pull his lips to mine. I think this is the first kiss that I've initiated, and he responds by pulling our bodies together, our mouths exploring hungrily. I could get so lost in this man. In his sweetness. In his warmth. In the way he's so open, and sometimes a bit silly, especially when teasing me.

Mostly, though, it’s the way he makes me feel. Like an adult who's making her own decisions. Everyone else in my life has known me since I was a child. Liam only knows grownup me. It fills me with hope that he's going to see me as an equal.

I want to be his girlfriend. To allow…whatever this is between us to develop.

Liam pulls me closer, our chests brushing together as I realize my nipples are tight, pressing right through my sweater. He kisses me softly but with increasing intensity as he lets out a slight growl. "Delicious," he murmurs. "Opal, you're the sweetest little thing ever…"

He captures my lips again, and I gasp when I feel his hand lifting my sweater and his rough fingers wandering across my belly.

As his mouth skims down my throat to graze my collarbone, my body shivers as a flash of lust flickers through me. I want him. Want to know what he'll do to me if we end up in the bedroom.

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