Page 12 of Off the Clock

More. More. More.The unspoken chant rang in my ears, my body clamoring for whatever Tony wanted to give me, hands hanging on tight for the ride. My stomach swooped like we were on a spinning amusement park ride. Had I really thought that first kiss was tentative? Unsure? Ha. There was nothing unsure about the way Tony kissed me now, tongue delving deep, mouth possessive, hands urgent on my back and shoulders.

My body surged, my back arching to get as close as possible. Our legs tangled, and hands grabbed, all gentleness long gone. All sense of space and time too. At least until a clattering sounded on the stairs up from the basement.

“Fuck.” Tony jumped away from me, wiping his mouth and straightening his T-shirt and shorts, right before Jonas entered the kitchen, followed by a dog.

“Hey, Caleb. Oh, hey, we did get some of that root beer.” For a big man, Jonas moved gracefully. He strolled over to the counter and helped himself to a soda. Too casually? I studied the guy’s bland expression but didn’t see any signs that he’d spotted Tony and me kissing. Soda in hand, Jonas wandered out to the deck, dog trailing behind.

“That didn’t happen,” Tony said sternly, as if he could will it so. I personally was never forgetting, but I nodded anyway.

“Understood.” There was a pile of reasons we couldn’t afford a repeat, starting with being coworkers, but hell if I didn’t want more right that very minute. Tony might be able to wipe his memory, but I wasn’t nearly so lucky.

Chapter Seven

Tony

The scents of barbecue and fresh-cut grass hung heavy over the riverfront park on the Fourth of July. The park teemed with people for the annual Mount Hope Independence Day parade, festival, and fireworks show. I’d been assigned to assist with the fire department’s presence downtown, and I had more than enough to keep me busy working our booth at the park.

However, Sean, in all his acting-captain wisdom, still had me tagging along with Caleb, and no amount of busy could counter Caleb’s effect on me. He was a natural at working the festival, charming everyone from seven weeks to seventy, handing out water bottles, assisting in minor first aid, and issuing reminders about fireworks and dehydration dangers. I was at serious risk of overheating myself simply from watching Caleb all damn morning. Further, every time I turned around, I was smacked with the memory of that damn kiss.

I wish I knew what had possessed me. One second, Caleb had been talking about his journey to becoming a firefighter, and the next, I was kissing him. I could blame his hypnotic eyes or theway his story had made my chest uncomfortably full, emotions I didn’t care to unpack. I could blame a years-long dry spell. Playing the hook-up game at bars near the base had lost its appeal a long time ago, but neither abstinence nor Caleb was to blame for my total lack of control.

And we’d almost been caught, something which should have iced my balls, not given urgency to every fantasy I’d had since. At least I’d managed the past few days without having to discuss the kiss with Caleb. But thinking? That I couldn’t escape any more than I could stop watching the flex of Caleb’s back muscles under his fire department T-shirt.

“Damn, it’s hot today,” he said as he pressed a cold water bottle to his forehead. A droplet of water rolled down his face, and the urge to lick his skin was a near-palpable need.

“Ha. Hot for Oregon.” I forced a light tone. “You should try a summer in the south.”

“No, thank you.” Stepping away, Caleb pulled out his phone but quickly pocketed it again when he noticed me watching.

“Everything okay?” Not wanting Caleb to get in trouble, I glanced at the other side of the booth, but Sean was deep in conversation with Suzy and another firefighter.

“Yeah. Sorry.” Caleb followed my gaze. “I know better than to check my phone on shift, but I’m worried about Scotty.”

“I can see why.” I gestured out at the rest of the festival. In addition to families, clumps of teens had invaded like weeds. Teen boys stunted on skateboards in violation of park rules while mixed groups ate piles of junk food from the food court and sundress-wearing older teen girls danced to the live music. And I wasn’t so old that I couldn’t remember all the fun of fireworks and friends. “It’s certainly a weekend for teen trouble.”

“Exactly.” Caleb let out a heavy sigh. “And Scotty’s at home, probably dreaming up God knows what prank with fireworkslater. Too much time on his hands. He still hasn’t taken my advice to find a part-time job.”

Closing his eyes, he moved his water bottle to the bridge of his nose. In his weariness, I saw my younger self, the ever-present worry about what my sisters were getting up to and with whom.

“Here.” Acting fast, I pulled out my phone and typed a brief message. “Cosmo and John were talking about walking around the festival. I just texted them and reminded them the new kid would likely appreciate an invite to hang with them.”

“You didn’t have to do that. But thanks.” Caleb offered me a crooked smile as his eyes stayed cautious. We might not be discussing it, but that kiss was as present as the July sun.

“No problem.” I didn’t have a chance to check my phone for a reply from Cosmo because a trio of giggly nineteen- or twenty-year-olds approached the booth for help with blisters from their strappy sandals. They were only too happy to let Caleb apply bandages to their heels. I had to hide a laugh when Caleb smartly declined their request for a group selfie.

After the young ladies, we handed out more water bottles to a group of stroller-pushing moms and lectured a frisbee golf team attempting to play around the crowd of festival attendees. I avoided speaking to Caleb for a good hour, but then I spied Cosmo, John, and Elliot with Scotty in tow.

“Hey, it worked.” Gesturing, I pointed out the kids. Caleb grinned widely, all farm-fresh sunshine and dimples, and oh, how I wished I didn’t feel that grin all the way to my toes.

“Wow.” Caleb beamed as the boys approached our booth. “They got Scotty out of the house. Looks like he might have even showered.”

Scotty did indeed have damp hair and his usual scowl had been replaced by a bland expression and deliberate slump, the sort of teen posture universally adopted to play it cool.

“Need a water?” Caleb reached for the cooler as the quartet reached our table.

“Sure.” Scotty accepted a cold bottle from his brother. “Got any cash? The guys are gonna light fireworks over in the school parking lot with some other kids from the team after the town show.”

“That’s not—” Caleb started to protest but abruptly shut his mouth and swallowed before fishing a twenty out of his wallet and handing it over. “Just be safe. Please. And text me when you’re home by midnight.”

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