by Jill Shalvis
Lily showered, dressed, and walked out into her living room only to stop in shock.
Wood was neatly stacked against the wall next to the woodstove. She stared at it as she pulled out her phone.
“I can load my own wood,” she said when Aidan answered.
There was a beat of silence.
She grimaced. “I mean thank you. Really. But I don’t expect preferential treatment just because we …” She trailed off, unwilling—and not to mention unable—to put a label on what they’d done.
“Did you forget already?” he asked mildly. “I can be there in seven minutes to remind you.”
As if she’d ever forget, and he knew it, too, the cocky bastard. Through the silence she sensed he was smiling, remembering everything.
And then so was she, picturing how he’d moved over her, his voice low and rough, his hands seductive, his body demanding and giving.
So giving …
Great, and now she was sweating a little bit. “I’m going to work now,” she said, walking to the freezer and sticking her head in it.
“You sure?”
“Yes!” She glanced down at her hardened—and still hopeful—nipples. “I’ve got to go.”
He laughed softly. “Have a good day, Lily. Think of me.”
She wasn’t sure she would do either of those things, but she ended up doing both.
“You okay?” Jonathan said when she’d walked into the staff room/kitchen twice, each time forgetting what she’d gone in there for.
“Yep,” she said. “Why?”
“Because you fell down the stairs thanks to a bunny.”
She sighed. “Hey, it was a very big, very scary bunny, okay?”
He laughed. “Whatever you say.”
Damn straight what I say … She sighed and pulled out the bags of dirty towels, replacing them with clean ones just to keep her hands busy.
“Why are you doing that?” Jonathan asked. “Rosa does that.”
“Rosa’s on her cell in the bathroom sobbing to her sister, something about Devon being a dick.”
“Devon is a dick,” Jonathan agreed. “But he’s a hot dick, and Rosa won’t cut him loose. She prefers looks over substance. Not me. How about you?”
“I don’t have any requirements right now,” Lily said. “I’m not interested in your species. At all.”
“Uh-huh. What about your own species then?” he asked. “Because there’s nothing wrong with changing up teams for a little bit.”
“I’m not interested in any team,” she clarified.
“How do you know unless you try it?”
He was teasing her, and she teased back with, “Who says I haven’t tried it?”
Jonathan nearly choked on his own tongue, but then he caught sight of something over her shoulder and his gaze went from amused to frank and appraising in a single beat.
Either Channing Tatum had just appeared out of thin air, or …
Yep. Aidan.
He stood there in his firefighter polo and work cargoes, radio on his hip, expression broadcasting a rough mood, looking hot enough to start a fire all on his own.
He nodded to Jonathan and met her gaze.
“Hey,” she said, trying to look and sound cool. But apparently she failed, because he grinned. Behind her, Jonathan chuckled at her predicament, the rat-fink bastard.
Blowing out a sigh, she met Aidan’s gaze. “Can we help you?”
Mercifully, he let it go and gestured to the stocked shelves of product. “My mom wanted me to come by and pick up some of that girlie gunk stuff you used on her hair.”
“A man who’s not afraid to stride into a salon and ask for girlie gunk,” Jonathan said. “I like it. I’ll leave it on the front counter for you. Now you kids take a minute to yourselves and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Then he waggled his brow at Lily and walked off.
She sighed. “How long were you standing there?”
Aidan smiled. “Long enough to know I want to hear your ‘one time at band camp’ story.”
She blushed. “Never mind me. Are you really here for your mom?”
He shrugged. “She says she can’t live without the stuff. She asked Gray to come get it, but he told her over his dead body. So she threatened to tell Penny, and then he finally agreed to get it for her.”
“So why isn’t Gray here?” she asked, fascinated by his family’s crazy dynamics and how in spite of that they all remained close.
“Because he doesn’t have a thing for the new, pretty cosmetologist.”
Ridiculously, Lily’s heart picked up speed, but she rolled her eyes.
He grinned at her. “It’s true. Even if she did cut my hair uneven.”
“I did no such thing,” she said, straightening, completely indignant.
“Look.” He shoved his fingers through his hair, making it stand up on end. “See? Crooked.”
She gave him a nudge toward her empty chair. “There’s no way. Sit.”
“Don’t you have to wash it first?”
She turned to look at him, but he didn’t seem to be up to anything, so she led him to the wash station and cranked the hot water. She had just wet his head and run her fingers through his silky hair when the radio at his hip crackled.
“Is that you?” she asked.
He reached down and cranked up the volume, listened for a minute, and then shook his head. “No. Not my unit.”
She let out a breath. She’d given thought to what his life as a firefighter meant to her—terror. But she’d not thought about what it meant for him, being on call, constantly at the ready to literally jump into the fire, carrying the burden of all the responsibilities that went with it, like saving lives.
On a good day she felt overwhelmed by her life. She couldn’t even imagine carrying the weight he did. Reaching over him, she pumped some shampoo into her hand.
His gaze ran the length of her arm just over his head and then met her gaze.
His eyes were hot.
Ignoring both him and her reaction to him, she sudsed him up. His eyes drifted shut, and his entire body relaxed. As she gave him a scalp massage, he let out a low groan from deep in his throat.
“You have great hands,” he said.
She should have known it. He had managed to con her into a skull massage. She held her tongue until she finished and brought him back to her station. Standing behind him, she ran her fingers through his wet hair. His perfectly cut wet hair that was so evenly matched on both sides she could have used it to set a ruler. Then, hands on hips, head tilted, she met his gaze in the mirror.
“Busted,” he said, not looking the least bit embarrassed or sorry.
“You could have just asked for a wash,” she said.
“Nah, this was way more fun.”
She opened her mouth but his radio went off again, and though his eyes remained on her, he was clearly concentrating on the radio and the garbled words she could barely make out.
Then suddenly he stood, all joking and good humor gone from his gaze. “Gotta go,” he said.
“You’re still wet.”
“No worries.” He shook his head like a big dog and then, shoving his hand into his pocket, came up with cash.
Lily pushed his hand away. “No.”
“I pay my debts.”
“Not this time,” she said.
His eyes landed on hers as one of his hands slid to the nape of her neck. “Think of me.” Lowering his head he gave her one quick, hard kiss. “Later,” he said against her mouth, and then he was gone.
“Good sweet baby Jesus,” Jonathan said from the hall behind her.
She turned to find him fanning himself. “It’s not what you think,” she said.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because what I think is that man is sex on two legs. He wears that firefighter uniform like nobody’s business. Well, except maybe his brother Hudson. Cuz Hudson looks pretty damn fine in his as well. I mean, when he strides toward me with that gun on his hip …” Jo
nathan gave a full body shiver.
“Going back to work now,” she said with an eye roll, and did just as Aidan had suggested—thought of him.
That night, back at her place, Lily found herself on edge. Did Aidan’s “later” mean tonight? She had no idea.
Normally her after-work routine consisted of a hot shower and PJs, but she stayed up late in her sundress, makeup still on. No need to scare the man unnecessarily.
But Aidan didn’t show, and this left her torn between relief and unease.
Unease won, and she called his mom. “I know it’s late,” Lily said quickly, “but I—”
“Oh, honey, I got the styling cream,” Char said. “Thank you so much for that. I should’ve called you, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not calling about that, I was wondering …” She grimaced. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course. My hair’s so much better than okay, it’s fantastic. Marcus can’t keep his fingers out of it—”
“I meant with Aidan,” Lily said. “He got called away today on a fire and he didn’t get back. At least, I don’t think he did.”
“No, you’re right, he’s still out. I got a text from Gray.” Char paused, softening her voice. “You should know he’s often out for days without a word. We just have to trust him, Lily. He’s the best at what he does.”
“I’m not— I mean, I don’t—” She blew out a breath. “It’s not what you think,” she said for the second time that day. And for the second time that day she got the same response.
“Are you sure?”
Chapter 21
The fire started out on a 10,000-acre horse ranch, which backed up to the base of Mt. Hennessy. This meant it threatened hundreds of thousands of acres of forestland if they couldn’t contain it quickly.
By noon the following day Aidan, Mitch, and the rest of the crew still didn’t have a handle on it thanks to an unseasonably hot day and forty-five-mile-an-hour winds. When the flames jumped the highway and started to climb the mountain, they called in reinforcements.
Aidan ran into Hudson at the incident command post. They’d arrested the arsonist, who was currently cooling her heels in county on a million-dollar bail.
Which isn’t what Hudson wanted to discuss. Nope, he wanted to discuss their dad. Perfect. Just what Aidan wanted to do.
“He called Gray,” Hud said, pissed. “He couldn’t even bother to call me. What the hell?”
“Told you, we don’t need him.”
Hudson stared at him. “Is that what you told Gray when me and Jacob appeared in Cedar Ridge? That you didn’t need us?”
“How is that anything close to the same thing?” Aidan asked.
“You’re all about family unless it doesn’t suit you. Hypocrite much?”
“Hud, he dumped you guys like you were a bad habit, just like he did us. How are you defending that?”
“I’m not. At all,” Hudson said. “I just think he should have to come back and help us fix his mess.”
“No,” Aidan said flatly.
Hudson let out a long breath of frustration and stalked off. But he only went a few feet before he whipped back around. “You just picked a fight and let me walk.”
“No, you picked the fight. If you want to pout and sulk, who am I to stop you?”
Hudson strode back, eyes narrowed, steam coming out of his ears. “You’re misdirecting.”
“Nice to see your night psych class is coming in handy.”
“And now you’re trying to piss me off.” Hudson stood firm. “Tell me what I’m missing.”
“Drop it,” Aidan said.
“Can’t. You’re my brother,” Hudson said simply.
“Shit.” Aidan stared up at the sky and then dropped his head, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Just let it go, all right?”
Hudson’s eyes darkened with temper. “So you trust Gray but not me, is that it?”
“This has nothing to do with trust—”
“Yeah, right,” Hudson said. “Thanks for the reminder that you only do the things that suit you, Aidan.” And this time when he stalked off, he kept going.
Aidan swore and went back to work, but the fight with his brother remained forefront in his mind. It was an unfortunate two whole days later before they got the fire contained. Finally released from duty, Aidan and Mitch drove back into town. Mitch drove while Aidan checked his phone.
“Problem?” Mitch asked when Aidan swore.
Aidan thumbed through his bazillion messages. Gray checking on him. Penny checking on him. His mom checking on him. Kenna checking on him.
Nothing from Hud. Which really fried his ass, because hell no, he wasn’t a damn hypocrite. Family meant everything to him, and Hud damn well knew it. “No,” he said a little too tightly. “No problem.”
“Uh-huh. And you’re full of shit. Is it Kenna?”
Aidan slid him a look. “Kenna?”
“Yeah, you know, your sister?”
“I’m aware of how we’re related, thanks. What I’m unaware of is why my sister would pop into your brain, seeing as the two of you don’t like each other.”
“Who said that?” Mitch asked. “I like her plenty.”
“You do?” Aidan asked.
“Yeah.” And when Aidan slid him a look, Mitch squirmed. “Well, maybe not plenty,” he said. “And some parts more than others.”
Again Aidan looked at him.
And again Mitch squirmed. “Never mind,” he muttered.
Good idea. Because Aidan didn’t have the brainpower for whatever was going on in Mitch’s head at the moment. Whatever it was, it’d have to get in line. He brought up an empty text, typed Hudson’s number in, and … stared at the blank screen. He hit cancel. Shit.
They drove in silence a few minutes, for which Aidan was grateful. He got the feeling Mitch was just as grateful.
“I’m glad I don’t have a wife,” Mitch eventually said, seemingly out of the blue. Aidan followed his logic.
“You mean because we just fought a four-day fire started by a pissed-off wife?” he asked.
“Man, she burned her husband’s ranch to the ground.” Mitch shook his head. “He had to evacuate his hundred horses and nearly killed himself doing it.”
“She was his ex-wife,” Aidan pointed out. “And she was pissed because he dumped her for a woman half her age and then had more kids while ignoring the ones he’d had with her.”
Mitch slid him a look. “And now she’s going to jail without passing Go. And you of all people know how that sucks.”
Yeah, Aidan knew. Hell, he’d been there the night his mom had been arrested as well.