Page 44 of Fire Fight
I hadn’t been this sure of anything in a long fucking time.
“Positive. In fact,” I said, rising from my seat and pulling her up with me, that inexplicable electrical current coursing through my body at the contact. “Follow me.”
I led her through the station until we reached the locker room. Opening mine, I fished around in my bag until my hand closed around my keys, and I handed them over.
“Take my truck,” I told her as I rifled around the top shelf in search of the stack of sticky notes and a pen. I quickly jotted down the code to my security system and pressed that into her palm. “The opener will get you in the garage, this key”—I indicated a silver one—“will let you into the house, and that code will disable the security system long enough for you to get settled. Then you can arm it again.”
“What kind of firefighter are you?” she asked, glancing up at me.
“One with a brother who owns a private security firm.”
Aspen eyed me suspiciously. “How many brothers do you have?”
“Five,” I said, ushering her back out of the locker room and toward the side exit of the building.
“There aresixof you?”
“And a baby sister.”
“Jesus Christ,” she muttered as I pushed her along, my handon the small of her back, the heat of her skin seeping into my palm through the thin material of her shirt.
I chuckled. “Jesus had nothing to do with it.”
We reached my truck then—a brand spankin’ new Chevy Silverado 2500HD, completely blacked out with a tool box in the bed—and Aspen spun toward me, placing her hands on my chest to halt my progress.
Curl your fingers into my shirt, darlin’, I silently urged.Pull me closer.
She didn’t, and I’d be damned if I wasn’t a little disappointed. Aspen simply let her hands linger, staring up at me. “What’s your brother going to say?”
“Fuck my brother.”
“Crew…”
“Aspen.”
“Be serious.”
“I am being serious. Lane doesn’t get to dictate your life because he’s the sheriff. You have as much right to be here as anyone else, and if the rest of the town won’t welcome you in, I’m making it my job to fix that.”
Gently, I settled my hands on her hips and shifted her out of the way, then opened the driver’s door for her. Even with the running boards, she was so petite it would clearly be a struggle for her to get inside, so I took pity on her and lifted her into the seat myself.
“Fire it up,” I said, indicating the button to start it. “Foot on the brake.”
After inching the seat forward so she could reach the pedals, she did as I asked, the engine roaring to life. God, I loved that sound.
“Now what?”
“Tap into the GPS and punch in my address.” I rattled it off, and that creepy robotic voice filtered through the speakers, telling Aspen where to go first. “It’s a bit out of town, but you’ll be safe there. Make yourself comfortable. There’s only one guest roombecause I use the other as my office, so I’m sure you can figure it out. Now give me your phone and keys.”
She did as I requested, and after pocketing the keys, because I’d have to take her SUV home when I got off shift, I punched my number in her phone, then sent myself a text to make sure I’d have hers.
“Text me if you have any issues. I’ll be home around 8:30 tomorrow morning, and I’ll likely sleep most of the day. Once I’m up, we can figure out what’s next.”
Aspen narrowed those gorgeous cinnamon eyes on me. “Why are you being so nice?”
Because, inexplicably, I care about you.
But there was no fucking way I could tell her that, not when this was effectively the second legitimate conversation we’d ever had.
