Her breath falters. “Tell me.”
Her voice is so soft, I almost miss it. But I hear everything she says.
And everything she doesn’t. I drag my gaze down her face, lingering on her mouth. Her lips tremble. She wants me to kiss her. I want it too. Too much. But instead of answering, I stay silent. My eyes answer for me.
They tell her exactly what sitting across the dinner table from her does to me.
Exactly what hearing her laugh with Junie does to me. Exactly what seeing her in my station, in my space, in my life does to me. They tell her I want her a helluva lot more than I should.
She inhales sharply. “Saxon…”
I lean in—close enough to taste the breath she pulls in—close enough her chest presses against mine with each shaky inhale.
She tilts her head slightly. An invitation. A plea. I’m a second away from losing every rule I live by. One second. Her lips part—and then the firehouse alarm explodes overhead.
Blaring.Violent. Piercing. Ruining everything.
She jumps, slapping her hands over her ears.
I curse. Loud. Harsh. Every filthy word I know.
The locker room floods with red emergency lights.
Rowan yells down the hall, “Cap! Structure fire—north ridge!”
I step back like someone yanked a chain attached to my spine.
Everything inside me snaps shut. Duty slams back into place like a metal plate. Briar’s chest rises fast. Her lashes flutter. Her entire body trembles. I want to stay. I want to grab her face and finish what I started. But the world doesn’t stop burning because I want her.
I turn to her—just once—letting her see what I’m barely hiding.
“We’re not done,” I say, voice low enough it scrapes the air.
She sucks in a breath.
Then I’m gone.
The adrenaline from the call lasts an hour. Maybe two. Flames. Smoke. Debris. Commands barked. Water pounding asphalt. A roof threatening to collapse. But even in the middle of chaos, I keep seeing her pressed against those lockers, pupils blown wide, waiting for me to kiss her like she already tasted it.
Rowan jogs beside me as we load equipment back onto the engine. “You good, Cap?”
“Fine.”
“You sure? Because you came out of the station like you sprinted through a wall.”
“Drop it.”
He smirks. “Locker room moment?”
Boone whistles from across the truck. “Damn. That explains it.”
I glare at them both. “This conversation ends now.”
Rowan lifts both hands. “I’m just saying?—”
“Now,” I snap. He shuts up because they know better. Because what happened in that locker room wasn’t for them. It wasn’t even for me. It was for her.
And the fact that she shook in my arms but didn’t run? That she saidTell mein that breathless, breaking voice? Yeah. The fire isn’t the only thing threatening to burn this whole damn place down.
