Page 18 of Where There's Smoke
Melody
Tiptoeing into the kitchen, I did my best to keep my footsteps light so that I wouldn't disturb anyone. The puppy was bundled up in my arms. She was definitely ready for a feed because she was nipping at me like she was looking for a bottle. I’d come to learn her cues well.
The firehouse late at night was quiet and peaceful, though if the alarm went off—something that still scared the crap out of me every time—that peace would be destroyed in an instant.
“Hey,” a warm, soft voice called out, making me jump.
“Holy heck!” I exclaimed, looking around. My eyes landed on Samson sitting in the corner of the kitchen, a book in hand. “I didn’t see you there!”
He was reading by lamplight, so I hadn't noticed him in the darkness of the firehouse.
“Sorry, I decided to come out and make some tea while I read,” he said, his voice deep and soft. “Is the baby due for another bottle?”
I nodded, chuckling a little, since it was very much like having a baby. “Every two to three hours.”
Samson frowned, putting his book down. “You need to get some rest as well, you know.”
“I will. In a few weeks, once she's a bit bigger,” I said as I walked over to him, my nerves settling some. “What are you reading?”
He glanced down at the book before smiling slightly. “It's a fantasy series I've been reading for a few weeks. There's like twelve books, so it's taking a while to get through them all, but I’m enjoying it. Even if each book is like six-hundred pages.”
“I had no idea you were such a bookworm.”
He shrugged. “I've always liked that kind of thing. There's something about fantasy that's a nice escape.”
“There is,” I agreed. “Is that your favorite genre to read?”
“Sometimes I’ll dip my toes into sci-fi. I tried reading a historical book once, but I couldn't get into it. Besides, half the fantasy books I read are rooted in historical events.”
“I know, but adding dragons to historical battles and coups makes everything so much better.”
He beamed. “See, you get it! My pack mates don't agree. Hey”—Samson nodded down at the puppy—“do you want me to hold her while you make the bottle?”
“Would you?” I asked thankfully. “She's starting to wiggle around, and I don’t want to drop her.”
“Well, we can't have that,” he said, plucking the puppy out of my arms with surprisingly gentle hands. “You’re so pretty, little lady,” he cooed.
There was something about watching a muscular man holding and doting on such a tiny puppy that made my brain temporarily short-circuit.
“I, uhhh… What was I doing?” I muttered.
Samson laughed. “You were getting a bottle. I think sleep deprivation is getting to you.”
“Yes, totally the sleep deprivation…” I agreed, nodding, even though I knew full well that wasn’t why my brain was going gooey. I would have rather jumped headfirst into a volcano than admit the real reason I was having trouble thinking straight, which was new for me. I was usually so clearheaded.
I was staying in a firehouse, though. I had to get used to there being lots of incredibly sexy firefighters around so that I could staunchly ignore them.
“How long have you been here?” I asked as I put the kettle on the burner, trying to hide how my hands shook.
“At Station Seventeen? Years. We worked over at another station for a few years once we graduated from the academy, but once Elliot got promoted to this station, of course, we followed him.”
“It's nice how close-knit packs are. Having someone who will always have your back must be wonderful.”
“Do I sense a bit of longing in that statement?” Samson asked, cocking his head to the side. Even though his attention was fully on me, he was still scratching the puppy’s ears and giving her attention.
He could even multitask. Could he get any hotter?
“Maybe. It would be nice to have someone,” I admitted. “My family isn't exactly close.”
