“Anytime,” he says like a promise, as he gestures to the table for me to walk to.
There’s nothing fancy about the seating arrangement. The wooden table is circular and fits four people, six if you wantedto squeeze in two more chairs. Yet, he pulls out my chair with a slight bow and holds out his hand as a formal invitation for me to sit.
“Thank you, sir.” His lip twitches as I take a seat and he places a napkin over my lap as if we were getting ready to eat at a Michelin star restaurant.
Wade walks over with a plate in hand and places it in front of me. With my short stature and his tall one, my face sits right at his hips in this position and I glance up, giving him a shy smile as I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
His eyes solidly connect with mine and for the first time I can see the golden hazel flecks in his dark irises and they’re absolutely stunning. He studies me, his eyes dropping to my body then back up to my eyes and there’s something electric and undeniable between us.
Jasper plops down on the seat directly across from me and rips us out of our trance.
Clearing my throat, I’m able to croak out “thank you,” before Wade glares at Jasper then turns on his heel, walking back toward the kitchen island. He grabs the other plates, placing one at each setting then sits down next to me.
Even with the rallying between Jasper and Wade, there’s a togetherness with the group as they all sit down with the plates full of a home cooked meal and it feels so comfortable.
More comfortable than it should.
Everyone eases into conversation with each other and I’m able to ask a question here and there about the station and how the schedule for the firefighters work.
I knew they worked long hours and often stayed at the station. Apparently these three are often paired together and work twenty-four hour shifts, then have forty-eight hours off, then repeat that schedule. But somewhere in between they get a few days off in a row before going through that cycle again.
“That must be tough on your families,” I ask, digging for more information about their home life, as I take my first bite of biscuit and moan out loud.
“This isreallygood,” I say through a mouthful of the soft, flakey bread. “It has the perfect amount of crispness to the outside but it’s so soft.” I moan again.
As I glance up, all three guys are looking my way. Jasper with a beaming gorgeous smile as he bites the corner of his lip. Wade’s jaw is clenched but not in an angry way, and Major stares at me with his fork hovering over his dish and a glint in his eye.
Our eyes connect and the fireworks tingle against my skin. How is it possible that I’m equally attracted to all three of these men who’re drastically different from each other?
I clear my throat, placing the loaded biscuit down on my plate.
“I’m quite the foodie,” I confess embarrassingly, as I finish chewing my food and use a napkin to wipe my mouth.
“That’s good, because if you weren’t Wade’s food would have definitely turned you into one,” Jasper admits as he slaps Wade’s shoulder, leaving his palm there giving him a small squeeze before letting go.
Wade glances down at where Jasper’s hand was, shifts in his seat, then continues to eat silently. Major's eyes flick between the two quickly before he catches me looking at him and grabs his coffee, taking a small sip.
“Gracie loves all the leftovers you bring home,” Major adds as he peers over at Jasper.
My eyes widen. Oh, god. He has a girlfriend.
My cheeks flush as I recall the kiss we had at the farmer’s market and all the flirty banter earlier today. Now, I’m feeling totally embarrassed. I grab my coffee and take a large swig as I attempt to hide behind my mug.
“She sure does, total heifer she is.” I snort and the liquid lead feels like lava as it flies out of my nostrils.
“Ow, oh my god. Ow.” I laugh, embarrassed, but squint in pain.
Jasper is chuckling behind his hand and Wade stands, grabbing a napkin to hold in front of my face as his other hand delicately caresses my back.
“Are you okay?” Major asks.
“Yeah, oh yeah, I’m good. I’m good,” repeating urgently, like it was no big deal. I wipe my face and the spots on the table, as I attempt to recover from my nasal enema.
I thank Wade silently with my eyes and a soft, sheepish smile. He leaves the napkin with me as he takes his seat again, giving Jasper a sharp look.
“You shouldn’t say that about women, Jasper, especially your girlfriend,” I whisper, accusatory.
I recall the way I felt when Sam would comment on my weight whenever he had the chance. Especially when I was eating.
