Cap would know her name. I’d figure out a way to ask without alerting him, or anyone discovering my actual interest was for our latest fire victim. But she was no victim, and I heard the guys chuckling over what they found inside the oven. The likely cause of all the smoke that prompted her neighbor to call 911. Some type of berry cobbler.
And my fellow firefighters had left the scene and were probably grumbling about me not being outside, assisting in the wrap-up of the call. And why was I still inside? There was nothing left to do except for her to finish airing out the place and deal with replacing her now ruined oven.
“Oh, you’re still here? Do I need to sign something, or….?”
Shaking my head, I grinned at her choice of outfit. An oversized pale pink hoodie that hung to mid-thigh and a thick pair of matching sweatpants and white socks. It did the opposite of what she’d maybe hoped it would do compared to her earlier outfit. My palms and fingers itched to touch her again. And I wasn’t leaving until I got her phone number.
Whoa.That came out of nowhere. I didn’t understand it, nor have the time to analyze myself. I excelled at making split-second decisions. A trait that served me well in this profession. “So, I uh, didn’t get your name earlier. For the report?”
She’d been looking at a spot over my head, her arms wrapped around her waist. At my question, she tucked a strand of hair that’d escaped her ponytail and nibbled on her bottom lip.
Jesus, just take me now.Holding back yet another groan, I cleared my throat. “I’m Lieutenant James, uh, Austin, by the way.” Then, like a freaking politician, I held out my hand. On second thought, it was the perfect move. I’d be able to feel her creamy skin against my calloused, work-roughened hand.
“Stassi,” she grinned, taking my hand. Her fingertips brushed mine, and then with the briefest of shakes, she snatched back her hand immediately and cradled it in her other hand. Her eyes had gone wide, a startled look of confusion, maybe interest with a flash of lust on the tail end as she met my steady gaze.
Hell, I could look at her all day. Night. But I’d never get the chance if I didn’t stop gawking at her like a hormone-riddled teenager.
“Um, you’re going to need a new oven. If you need, uh, any help with finding a good deal, I have a buddy who owns Pineville Electrical Supply. He has a warehouse on Third Street. Anyway, let me get your number, or uh, I’ll give you mine.”
“Why not just give me his number?” The corner of her mouth lifted as she waited for my response.
Yeah, that would make the most sense. But then I wouldn’t see this beauty again.
A loud, repeating chime filled the room. “Oh, that’s for my edits. I’m working on a deadline. That’s why I was baking the cobbler so late in the evening—it’s for my story—I needed to get it right since I’m well, not really a baker, and oh, I’m babbling. Sorry, must be the adrenaline, huh?”
Her face broke into a bright smile. “So, are we done?” Stassi’s question was far from rude; I doubt this woman had it in her.
Had I ever been dismissed so politely before?
“James, we’re leaving!” Paxton’s shout spurred me on.
“Yes, but let me give you my number. I’d, uh, be happy to connect you with a guy I know about replacing that oven and--”
“Wait,” she shouted. “That’s it. Oh, it’s perfect, just what my story needs.”
“Huh?” Did she hit her head earlier, and I hadn’t realized? Shit, I was confused. And apparently not making the kind of impression I wanted.
“Sorry, sorry. When ideas hit, I get excited. I need to write it down now before it’s gone. Oh, how about you give me your phone and I’ll put my number in?”
Patting my chest, then my pants, I spread out my hands. “Yeah, we don’t carry our cells on a call, or at least we’re not supposed to.”
“Right, right? Of course you don’t. I’ll grab a pen. Hold on.” She went back down the hallway, speaking to herself as she did. Nothing she said made sense. Maybe I should get Rex back in here to do another eval? But then she was back and handing me a pen and a scrap of paper, and I assessed her eyes myself. Pupils were normal, her breathing as well. And just like that, as I stared into her face and accepted the items, I dismissed my concern.
Our fingers brushed. The contact sent sharp electrical spikes along my forearm and beyond. My touch lingered longer than necessary, and was that a flare of interest in her dark brown eyes? Rewarded with her indrawn breath, I stepped back and made a fist around the piece of paper.
“Thanks. I’ll, uh, be in touch.”
“Of course. I appreciate it. And sorry about before. I’m a writer. Romance books. There’s this one scene I’ve been struggling with and the solution suddenly hit me, you know? Anyway, I see that I’ve lost you. Anyway, let me know about that oven, and again, thank you and your crew so much.”
An awkward pause, then another shout from Paxton. “You’re welcome.” With what I hoped was a smile that telegraphed myinterest, I gave her a quick salute and left. Was that a sigh I heard right before I walked through the door? Jesus, I’ve saluted no one in my life, let alone a woman I’d be thinking about long after this incident.
But was her sigh from mutual attraction or relief that I’d finally left?
Back in Engine 3, I wasn’t sure if stunned covered what I was feeling. Maybe being run over by a steamroller would be more accurate.
“Hey, is that her number?” Paxton let out a low whistle. “I wouldn’t want to be you when Hunter hears about this.”
“Why would Hunter care?” The station’s other battalion captain wasn’t even working today.
