“Incriminate away. I’m a firefighter, not a cop.”Early fall day aside, why am I sweating like this all of a sudden?
“I could ask you the same question, you know.”
“You mean, about your appearance? I have excellent distance vision, so I knew exactly how you looked from the bottom of the tree …”
“Oh, God, when you could see up my skirt?”
“There was that, too, but I tried not to peek. Key word being tried.” I wink, and her cheeks ignite.
She shakes her head ruefully. “And you’re that Hollywood guy that everyone’s talking about. Great!”
“Oh, you know about that?” I ask, confused. I’ve never met a woman who knows who I am and doesn’t care.
“No offense, but I’m more into books than TV.”
She says it with a little shrug, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. Somehow, though, that small gesture shrugs off half my baggage with it. It feels surprisingly liberating.
“So, you’re telling me I’d have to be one of those shirtless guys on the cover of a romance novel to get your attention?” I tease despite knowing better.
Her luscious lips form a thin line, eyes quickly scanning me. I’m pretty damn sure she likes what she sees, though she’s hard to read.
“Do you ask every girl you rescue that?”
I chuckle deep in my chest. “Only the pretty ones.”
“A firefighter and a flirt. You’re like one of my book boyfriends.”
“So, you read firefighter romances?” I ask, face still plastered in a goofy grin.
“Guilty as charged,” she confesses, lifting her chin imperiously. “What about you?”
I scrunch my forehead, mildly puzzled by her question. “No firefighter romance for me.”
“I mean, do you read?” She knits her forehead.
“Of course. I’m a voracious reader.” I lean toward her, whispering, “Sometimes, I even fit it into my downtime at the station.”
“Downtime at the station? Does that happen often?”
“We work forty-eight/ninety-six shifts, which means forty-eight hours on and ninety-six off. Chief keeps us busy with equipment checks, station maintenance, physical training and drills, and of course, emergency response. But I usually manage to fit some in.”
“Did you get more reading done at the TV studio?” she asks politely.
I shrug. “I’d rather not talk about that.”
“Why not? I hope I’m not getting too personal?—”
I shake my head. “No, I’m just not a big fan of that Hollywood stuff. Hate it, actually. I did the show to pay for school. Not proud of it.”
Catalina sighs with relief. “So, you’re okay with me not being a fan of the show?”
“More than you could possibly know.” The more I learn about this pretty, nerdy girl, the more I like her. But time to stop flirting and get back to work. “Enough about me. Let’s get you out of that tree.”
She nods, steely determination lighting her face. “I’m going to help you get on the ladder, and then, we’ll head down together. I won’t leave your side until you’re safely back on solid ground.”
“Okay.” Her voice sounds wan, and her face looks pinched.
“If you’re having second thoughts, I can call for that ladder engine.”
