by Marie Harte
She’d made herself wait a solid three minutes before answering.
And now she sat in Green Lake, at the best bakery in the city, and looked for him.
“So, when’s a hunk of burning love showing up?” asked one of her favorite people.
“You’re so not funny.”
Elliot Liberato, owner of Sofa’s Bakery, laughed. “I really am.”
“In ten more minutes.” Avery guzzled her coffee.
Elliot shook his head. “Man, you are frazzled. Let me grab you more caffeine.”
“Which I probably don’t need.”
“But it will make you feel tougher. I’ll be right back.”
She’d done an interview on Sofa’s owners two years ago, enthralled with their famous Halloween display. One of the owners, Elliot Liberato, had remained a friend ever since. Like Gerty, Elliot made friends without trying. He had a funny personality, was incredibly good-looking, and genuinely liked people.
He returned with her coffee and sat, waiting, his green eyes unblinking. She’d often likened him to a black cat she’d seen around the neighborhood. Both had sleek, shiny black fur (hair) and those same green eyes.
“You want to see him, I take it?” she asked as she sipped. “Oh, vanilla. I love you.”
“They all do.” Elliot grinned. “And yes, I want to see him. Again. I’ve already been to three Pets Fur Life adoptions in the past two months. I saw the Viral Viking, who would be so much cuter without the beard—just saying. And your studly firemen are all anyone’s talking about. Sofa’s gets taken care of by a different firehouse.” He glanced around and lowered his voice. “Great guys, but no one on Station 44’s level of hotness.” His voice returned to a normal volume. “I live in Queen Anne, so I’m not getting saved by your guys there either.” He sighed. “With any luck, my car will catch fire south of Rainier. Wait, where’s the station again? Maybe I’ll need mouth-to-mouth in front of their building.”
Avery laughed. “Please, if you do, let me film it.”
“I’ll do my best. But nothing beats you and Banana doing the tango.”
She groaned.
Elliot laughed, then turned to the woman who’d slapped him in the back of the head. “Ow, hey. Cut it out.”
“We have work to do. Quit flirting.” His sister waved. “Hi, Avery.”
“Hi, Sadie. Sorry for taking your brother from you.”
“I’m used to it. I’m always picking up his slack.”
Elliot stood and glared. “One, I’m not flirting. This is called being friendly to the customers. Friendly,” he said slowly. Avery watched, loving the family dynamic. Elliot bounced around with a smile. Sadie glowered at everyone, had arms like a streamlined weightlifter, and wore nothing but Blackstone Bikes T-shirts no matter how much Elliot complained. Avery, like many of the other customers, enjoyed the sibling banter as much as she enjoyed the food. Plus, she had a feeling people hoped to see Sadie’s fiancée, a former reality TV star who now crafted custom motorcycles for a living.
Sadie muttered something else under her breath and left to tend the counter.
Avery asked after his other sister, who had given birth to twins not long ago.
Elliot smiled. “She’s coming back in a few more months, I think. She misses the bakery, but she’s loving the kids.” He leaned closer. “The boy looks just like me. It’s awesome. He’s going to be my very own mini-me. Just as soon as I can get his dad out of the way.” Elliot stood. “Well, I’d better get back. But don’t be surprised if I bring you guys some cookies on the house. You know, to show my appreciation for the city’s selfless firefighters.”
“Slick.”
“I know. I’ve got moves. You could learn a thing or two from me.”
“Yeah, like how to get out of work,” Sadie called from the register, in front of which a line was forming.
“Man, you’d think finding a man would have made her nicer. No such luck.” Elliot left on a sigh.
Avery had always wanted a family like Elliot’s, with siblings and parents who doted on her. She knew from her interview that Elliot and his sisters ran the bakery, that his father couldn’t be prouder, and that Sofa’s was indeed a labor of love.
She hadn’t talked to her parents in a while, but she didn’t think they’d missed her much. Her mother loved her but for some reason had been too busy to pick up the phone lately. Her father, well, he was what he was. Avery would have been more bothered about her mother, except that Brad now occupied her every thought when not at work.
And even at work. Earlier, Emil had blathered about her amazing chemistry with Brad. Brad this, Brad that. She’d nearly told him she knew all there was to know about the man, including how he kissed. Then Emil had started badgering her about making Friday mornings a permanent spot. She’d finally told him she’d think about it just to get him off her back. Just like she did with her father…
She wondered how his visit with Erik the Ex had gone. Probably amazing. Erik knew people and had a way of getting information others couldn’t. He was good-looking and sincere and radiated truth and dedication the way Avery radiated fluff and fun.
She sighed, wondering if she’d have to hear about how great Erik had been on her father’s return trip, or if she’d be treated to his silence and disappointed sighs while he mentally compared her to the shining reporter that was Erik.
Either way, she’d be fending off her father’s renewed zeal in trying to re-kick-start her career.
Brad walked through the door, taking her mind from her father, and had half the room staring at him. He wore regular clothes, not on duty until the following day, she gathered. He worked a set of hours, apparently. One day on, two off, then one on, four off, only to start the rotation again. It sounded like a pretty good deal, until she did the math and realized he worked a lot more hours than she did in a month.
He approached in jeans and a Seahawks T-shirt, his hair combed back, freshly shaven. She swallowed a sigh of appreciation.
“Hey, Avery.” He smiled. “Want something? I’m going to grab a coffee before I sit.”
Before he could, Elliot appeared with a plate of treats. Talk about Johnny-on-the-spot. She refrained from laughing at Brad’s surprise.
“Well, hello.” Elliot smiled. “You must be Avery’s friend. I’m Elliot, owner of Sofa’s.”
Sadie passed by with a squirt bottle and rag in hand. “Part owner.”
Elliot’s smile didn’t dim as he put the plate on their table. “Avery tells me you’re a firefighter. Cookies on the house, drinks too.”
“Brad Battle.” Brad held out his hand, and Elliot shook it. “And please, I can pay for all that.”
“Nope. My treat today. Besides, you’re a friend of Avery’s.”
“I had to buy my coffee,” she reminded Elliot, enjoying herself. Brad looked unsure, darting looks between Avery and Elliot.
“Only the first cup.” Elliot smirked at her. “She’s a caffeine addict. Watch yourself.”
Brad sat. “Well, thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Coffee, black? Or would you like a latte or something sweeter?”
“Black is fine.”
“Black is boring, but whatever.” Elliot walked away.
Brad watched him go before turning to her. “So, you and Elliot.” He paused. “Have you guys gone out? Exes?”
She laughed. “I’m not his type.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
She took the compliment to heart and told herself to hold on to it. When they stopped doing whatever it is they were doing together, she’d try to remember the good stuff. “Well, if I told you that you were more of his type, would that make sense?”
Brad flushed. “Oh, ah, okay.”
She laughed. “You’re pretty red there, Battle.”
“Screw off, Dearborn.” He bit into
a four-leaf-clover-shaped sugar cookie. “Holy crap. This is good.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.” Elliot had returned with a cup of steaming coffee. “We are the best of the best. Tell all your friends.” Elliot grinned. “Especially the pretty ones you do the pet adoptions with.”
Brad smiled back. “Will do.”
Elliot whistled as he left.
“He’s so funny. A really great guy.” Avery watched Elliot leave, aware several other patrons did as well. Elliot had style, she’d give him that. Even in jeans and a Sofa’s tee, he looked like a runway model.
“So, is this you trying to set me up with someone again? The way you did last week on TV?”
She heard the teasing in Brad’s voice and relaxed. “I thought you said I was more your type. But hey, I could have been mistaken.”
Brad’s gaze dipped to her chest. “Oh, you’re totally my type. I love a woman with big…brains.” He smirked and ate more cookies.
“Idiot.” She took another treat as well, having a mouth-gasm as she devoured the creamy frosting of a spring cupcake. “I don’t come here too much. I just gained ten pounds with that bite.”
“Eat up. It’s all going to the right places.”
After a moment of silence while they ate and drank and stared at each other, Avery broke the obvious tension. “So. You texted. Is this us ‘hanging out’ or should we go back to your place for some ‘getting together’?”
He flushed. “That was lame, I admit. But you fried my remaining brain cells. Besides, I didn’t see you rushing to call me.”
“I was giving you the space you asked for.” She’d sounded snide. Damn.
One of his brows shot up, and she did her best to focus on his words and not his annoying good looks.
“Oh, so you were wanting more of me than that morning, huh?” His smug grin made her want to slap him silly. Then kiss his pouty mouth all better.
“You’re good in the sack but totally annoying.”
Her words seemed to brighten his day. “Thanks!”
She couldn’t help laughing. “And weird. So, what have you been up to since I rocked your world?”
He’d been sipping his coffee when she asked and choked on his answer, which caused her to chuckle. “Cat got your tongue, Bradford?”
He managed to calm himself and took a fortifying sip of her water. “Thanks for offering,” he said with no small amount of sarcasm. “And I’d rather you had my tongue, Avery.” His heated expression dragged her thoughts past the gutter deep into carnal city. “Between your legs to start,” he added in a soft voice.
Which caused her to choke on the water she’d taken back from him.
Brad left her and returned with a new glass. “Need help putting out the fire in your mouth?”
She bit back a grin. “Why? Got a hose I can swallow?”
He laughed, hard. When he’d finally caught his breath, he had to wipe his eyes. “Oh man, I’ve been needing that.”
“Rough weekend?”
He nodded. “I’ve had better. You?”
“After getting the third degree from Gerty about you, I managed to cook a few new recipes. That’s my new passion. Cooking.”
At the word passion, Brad tensed.
“What?”
“So, you need a new passion? What am I?”
“Shh. Not so loud.” Her cheeks felt hot. “I’m just saying that between work and having no life, I’m boring. I’m trying to find myself is all.” Feeling foolish, she explained, “Not too long ago, my mom asked me what I like to do for fun. I had no answer.”
He grinned. “Next time she asks what you do for fun, give her my name.”
“What?”
“Your passion. It’s me, right?” He chewed a bite of cookie. “I’ve been thinking about Friday, and I think we should see if last time was a fluke.”
“Which last time?” She was fascinated by the looks he kept shooting her. Captivation mixing with confusion. She felt the same thing but had no idea what to make of it.
“The third time. The one right before you screamed my name,” he said with satisfaction.
She leaned closer, not above showing out. “Oh, you mean before you begged me to move faster? That time?” She moved so that her breath fanned his lips. “Or when you asked, so very nicely, if I was a good girl?” She moved in to whisper, “You know. The kind who likes to swallow.”
Chapter Thirteen
“You win.” Brad had a tough time acting like he wasn’t three strokes from coming in his pants. Seeing Avery in those sexy glasses, jeans, and a staid button-up blouse shouldn’t have been so arousing. But it was. Then she laughed, and her joy with life made her that much prettier. He’d never in his life admit it to the guys, but what really turned him on with a woman was her laugh.
The face and body didn’t hurt, obviously, but a woman’s personality drew him in more than anything else did. A total blow to his claim about being a breast man. Although Avery had nothing to complain about in the curves department. They fit perfectly in his hands and even better in his mouth…
He shifted in his seat.
Avery winked and sat back, and he imagined her purring with satisfaction.
“So why didn’t you text me before I texted you today?” he asked. He’d waited for her to call him and, when she hadn’t, decided to take charge.
She lost her smugness. “You’d said you just wanted a one-time deal.”
“But what did you want? Or did you just agree with me because I spoke first?” He genuinely wanted to know. He’d previously blurted a need to forget about their coupling out of fear. But why had she agreed so readily?
“I, ah, don’t know.” She fiddled with her glasses. “I had no intention of doing what we did. It happened fast.”
“I said I was sorry about that.”
She flushed. “No, no. I meant we kind of went from talking to kissing in a heartbeat. You—you were just fine.”
“Oh.” Now he felt awkward. “Wait. Just fine? More like incredible with a stamina that never quit once I got used to how hot you make me.”
Her pink cheeks were adorable. “Yes, yes. You were amazing. Happy now?”
He’d be a lot happier if she’d sit on him and start moving up and down. Real slow.
“Yep.” He nudged the last cookie at her, and she broke it in half. He took his piece and chewed, wondering what it was about Avery that made him both hard and happy. He’d had an emotional weekend, had even thought about canceling their coffee date today. Yet as soon as he’d seen her, everything settled, and he couldn’t wait to get closer.
“Geez, Brad. Stop looking at me that way.” She ate her half of the giant cookie in two bites and now resembled a chipmunk storing nuts for the winter.
“I can get more if you’re still hungry,” he managed without laughing.
She swallowed—oh yes, he looked forward to seeing if she was indeed still a good girl—and took a loud slurp of coffee. “You stress me out,” she admitted.
“Me?”
“Yes, you.” She lowered her voice. “After Friday happened, I had no idea what to make of it. I’m not a one-night—”
“One morning.”
“—kind of person,” she ended with a frown. “I don’t do what we did.”
“Me neither. I know people think most single firefighters are dogs, but we’re not all like that. Well, Tex kind of is, but he’s got a good heart.”
She laughed. “I can see that.”
“I date one woman at a time, and I don’t always feel the need to be with someone. I broke up with my last girlfriend eight months ago, and she’s happily engaged to a great guy. I have no regrets.”
“Okay.”
“I’m not hard up for sex. I can get that pretty easily.” He looked her over. “As can you, I’d imagine. You’re sexy,
Avery.”
“Um. Thanks.”
“But Friday threw me. I think you and I fit on a level I’m not really comfortable with.”
“Oh.”
Oh? What did oh mean? “So, um, I was thinking we should explore it.”
“Have more sex.” She nodded, and he couldn’t tell if that made her more or less comfortable with the idea.
“Yes, but not just sex.” He felt like a moron. A lot of people had no problem with casual sex. If both parties wanted the same thing, they should go for it. Unfortunately, he couldn’t separate the physical from the emotional. “I’d like us to get to know each other. You and me. And maybe we call it dating.”
“Dating? Just you and me?”
“Well, I’m not asking Gerty to join us, if that’s what you’re asking.”
She glared. “No, dumbass, I’m asking if you want us to be exclusive. Or will you be spreading the love on the days we’re not together?”
“You’re really cute when you get mad.”
“Suck it, Battle.”
He grinned, once again on an even keel with this Avery, the whip-wielding woman he wanted to cuddle until that sexy rage in her eyes fired up the rest of her. “I didn’t mean to be confusing. Yeah, just you and me. I’m not into open relationships or having more than one girlfriend on the sly.”
“Me either.” Avery gave him a shy smile that made him feel funny. Not aroused or happy, but strangely content.
“So, um, I had an idea,” he said.
“That squirrel is running really fast to keep the wheel turning in your brain, huh?”
He just looked at her, pleased when she laughed.
“Sorry. Go ahead, Hollywood.”
“Okay, Lois.” He enjoyed her frown. “My brother is trying to get with your roommate, but you’re cockblocking him.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Oscar. My brother. He likes Gerty, but he can’t make a move because you’re there.”
“Why can’t he make a move at his place?”
The tricky part. “He’s been living with my mom to help out around the house. So, while he’s looking for a place to stay”—thank you, Gerty, for giving Oscar motivation to move out—“he can’t get her to himself. Alone.”