Page 22 of Where We Found Our Home
“Good thing I’m not looking for her then. Now get me a chocolate chip muffin, woman.” I give her my best impression of a toxic asshole voice, and it works. She looks like she wants to kill me.
She scowls but grabs a chocolate chip muffin out of the case and goes to warm it up for me.
Before Sasha gets back, the door flies open and the woman I’ve been avoiding—yet so desperate to see—strolls in. Today she has on gray bike shorts that make my mouth water, a baggy graphic T-shirt, and Jordans. She looks adorable, and I don’t want to look away.
She startles when she sees me. Do I affect her as much as she affects me?
“Here’s your muffin, creep.” Sasha nudges me with the plate.
I grab it and start to head over to a hightop, but at the last second I detour over to Ciara’s booth.
“Mind if I sit?” She looks up at me for a split second but darts her eyes right back to her laptop screen.
“It’s all yours.” She bites her bottom lip as I sit directly across from her.
“How are you feeling?”
“Much better, thanks.”
“How’s the book coming along?”
“It’s really good. I’m about a quarter way through.”
“That’s really great. Congratulations.”
She looks at me with those chocolate eyes and smiles. “Thank you. Ooh, hold on.” Her fingers start flying across her keyboard, and I’ve lost her to the world she’s created in her head. I take a moment to admire her dedication. I recognize that dedication. It’s the same look I’ve had since I was five years old and witnessed a firefighter carrying a teenage girl away from a house fire that her dad was badly burned in. That was it for me. The moment I decided I wanted that to be my future. I see that same passion burning in her. It’s sexy as fuck. Her eyes are laser focused on her screen, and she doesn’t look at her keyboard once. She pauses and wraps a finger around one of her box braids in concentration, and I imagine her hands wrapping around something else much harder. She bites that bottom lip again that I want to suck into my own mouth. I have to have a conversation with the Big Guy to not embarrass me here. She goes back to typing ferociously for another two minutes before her eyes train their focus back on me. “Sorry, an idea for a scene came to me. I had to get it down before I lost it.”
Fuck, she’s cute.
“It’s no problem. I probably should let you get back to it anyway.”
“I’ll see you around, Linc.”
“Hey, when you become a best-selling author, will you include a dedication to me in your book?”
She giggles, and I have to hold back my groan. “Yeah, sure. It’ll say ‘to the cocky ass firefighter who saved my ass that one time, I hope your arm has healed by now and I expect you to drop me a pin to the meet-up spot when the zombie apocalypse hits.’”
I bark out a laugh. “That’s perfect.”
I wave good-bye to Sasha and ignore her sly grin.
“Pass me the reciprocating saw.” Isaiah motions to the saw on his workbench. I came over awhile ago to help Isaiah with the clubhouse we’re building for Reggie’s kids, Denise and Malcolm, and Nevaeh. Isaiah is an architect, so of course this clubhouse is more involved than I originally planned for, but they’re going to love it. This is where Isaiah shines. I pass him the reciprocating saw then go back to nailing the pieces of already cut plywood together.
“So now that you’re here doing the work and I know you won’t walk out on a project we’re doing for our nieces and nephew, I’m gonna ask you one more time. When are you going to stop being a pussy and ask Ciara out?”
I groan and nearly drop my damn hammer. “Fuck, why are you so invested in this?”
“Because from what Sasha and Dom said, you didn’t look at her like she was just another potential hookup. You looked at her the way you used to look at—”
No. “Don’t. Don’t go there.” I don’t want to talk about Erica. I thought I was doing better. That the hold she had on me had loosened to a dull ache, but spending time with Ciara has that ache increasing until it’s impossible to ignore.
He sighs in exasperation. “I mean what’s wrong with that? You’re not me, bro. This whole meaningless hookups thing is my ministry, not yours. I know she broke your heart and then the unthinkable happened, but you’re meant to have the real deal, Linc. It’s out there for you.”
“Meaningless hookups didn’t used to be your ministry either, hypocrite,” I spit out.
He points his finger in my face. “You’re fucked-up for bringing that up.”
I sigh. He’s right. I don’t want to throw his past in his face just because he’s doing it to me. “Just drop it, Zay. My head can’t process this shit right now.”
