I peered to my left and caught Eric looking at me as we pulled up to a stop light.
“He’s got a point.”
I rolled my eyes, shrugging, and moved back to stare out the window. I wasn’t about to explain myself or my actions to anyone. Not to my blood family, and not even to the men I walked into fire with everyday.
****
I rapped at the wooden door with the metallic numbers that read “320” on the outside. I was tempted to cover the peephole with my finger so she wouldn’t see who was at the door, but then I thought better of it. She might be more hesitant to open the door if she didn’t know who it was. I hoped she wasn’t still as pissed as she was the day before, although I could’ve dealt with that, too. Seeing her pissed off sort of turned me on a little. Okay, a hell of a lot. But after I got a text message from Aaron early this morning that he’d spoken with Nancy, Michelle’s boss, and got her to rescind the week-long suspension, I knew it was time to make my appearance at her door.
“Who is it?”
I watched the peephole darken as she looked through. I took a step back so she could see my face. I heard a tiny gasp on the other side, and the door abruptly opened.
“Are you a stalker or something?” she demanded.
I was too caught off-guard to answer, staring at her voluptuous body in the dark red silk robe she wore, which stopped a few inches above her knees. She tightened her robe around her body when she caught me staring at the exposed cleavage. I finally raised my eyes to her bare face. No makeup, clear caramel skin with cheekbones that looked like they could cut glass, towel over her head … she was perfect in every way.
“Morning, sugar.”
She frowned. “Are you a stalker?”
“I can be for you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Be serious.”
“I am serious. But to answer your question, no. However, you left the station yesterday before I returned. I asked you not to leave.”
“You demanded that I not leave.”
I gave a one shoulder shrug. “Po-tay-toe. Po-tot-toe. I see you’re readying yourself for work.” It was a little after seven in the morning. I had a hunch she’d be up already getting ready for the day.
Her honey eyes widened. “What’d you say to my boss to get her to change her mind?”
“I didn’t say anything to her.” I brought the coffee cup I held to my lips while holding out my other hand for her. “Coffee?”
She eyed the bag warily before looking back up at me.
“The orange juice is for your little guy. There are four donuts inside. You like the place not too far from the station, right?” I’d stopped at the donut shop she’d bought donuts for the station. I remembered her saying they were her favorite.
“You remembered?” Her brows dipped as if she couldn’t believe such a thing.
“I remember every word you’ve told me thus far.”
Her eyes widened again, and she pulled her bottom lip into her mouth.
I groaned. “Sugar, you really shouldn’t do that. Not if you want to make it to work on time.” Memories of the previous Friday night when I’d pulled that very same lip into my own mouth assailed me and I felt myself harden in my jeans. That along with seeing the outline of her heavy breasts in the robe, her protruding hips, and the curves of her exposed legs were too much for even a man of my strength to resist. She sucked in air when I moved closer, lowering my head to hers. But just before my lips were able to make the contact, a sound startled the both of us.
“Mommy.”
The door widened and a little boy with sun-kissed skin and dark curly hair stood, looking up at Michelle, in a pair of superman pajamas, rubbing his right eye.
“Diego,” Michelle called, standing erect, and gazing down at her son. His eyes were now trained on me, staring.
“Are you a firefighter?” he questioned. “Is there a fire?” His dark eyes glittered in awe, wiping away the sleep that was there just moments ago.
I knelt down, getting to his eye level. “I am a firefighter, but I’m not here on any official work business. I’m a friend of your mommy’s.”
He eyed me up and down, digesting my work T-shirt that prominently displayed the name of my fire department and station house.
