Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
I roll my eyes and head for the door. “Next time you have a boyfriend, remind me to torture you about it, okay?” I snatch a jar of honey on my way out. “Put it on my tab.”
“I will on both,” she calls through a fit of laughter until the chime drowns her out and I’m back with the sun shining on my face. I turn back, tucking the jar under my arm and peek through the window to do heart hands while she does it right back. I wave and double-step back to the car. I only have so much time off, so my priority is to spend it with Brandon. Since he’s working, that means stopping by the station. Seeing him in uniform is pure eye candy.
The smock mill’s blades turn, and the sailboats fill the cove as I take the scenic route. It reminds me of photos of the Mediterranean. We don’t have to travel halfway around the world to get that picture-perfect postcard view. Everyone is out taking advantage of the last days of September before the real cold sets in.
I pull up to the firehouse and hop out with the honey in one hand, grasping the front of my sweater with the other. It is perfect weather for a light sweater to beat the chill that snuck in today despite the sun doing its job in the vast blue skies above.
The red truck shines with the gold letters glittering in the sunshine after a fresh wash. The hose is still lying on the ground in a puddle of water. Although the large garage door is open, I don’t see anyone until I’m in the shade of the interior.
I stop.
My feet are unable to move as I stare at Chantilly Flickinger in the flesh, buzzing around my lieutenant like we’re sixteen again. His arms are crossed over his broad chest, eyes narrowed like he’s taking a complaint, but it’s the slightest forward tilt of his head that has him appearing he’d rather be anywhere else but there. With her.
“Why, Autumn Season,” Chantilly says, the moment she sees me. “Fancy seeing you again and during your quarter of the year. How lucky for me.”
Brandon follows her gaze, grinning like I just made his day a lot better when he sees me. “Hey there.” His voice is smooth, his deep tone quickening my pulse.
I hold up the jar. “I carried a honey jar.” I can’t believe I just said that. I might as well have walked in here carrying a watermelon.
Chantilly’s eyes lower to the jar I’m holding in one hand despite me giving the impression it was a large barrel. “That’s nice.” Nothing about her tone is nice, though. “Brandon was my first stop back in town. I needed to see for myself how the hero was doing.”
“He’s doing great,” I reply, refusing to repeat patterns that would ruin us again. But as I stand here, I realize I’m not running anywhere. I’m good. Seeing how Brandon looks at me is enough to keep me close and feel secure in our relationship.
Though that doesn’t keep Chantilly from raising my blood pressure. I always considered myself a measured person. But I have a deep-seated desire to claim him in some obnoxious he’s mine kind of way. I won’t, but I want to.
“I’m seeing for myself.”
“She’s getting divorced,” Brandon states without an ounce of surprise in his voice.
“Sorry to hear that.” My monotone might be lacking the surprise she was hoping for, but why does she have to stand so close to him?
She cackles, her version of trying to sound like she’s just one of us little people. “He was sleeping with the gardener. I got a large payout per the prenup, so I’m good.”
I’m not sure why we’re still having this conversation other than to give her a chance to brag about whatever she feels so special over. The money?
“I—”
My tongue ties and the world slows watching my man, dressed in his uniform—gray T-shirt tight around the biceps, red suspenders hanging down, and baggy pants to protect the precious jewels—come to me with a smirk that I know means trouble under the sheets. I can’t wait to find out what it means in two seconds. When he reaches me, he asks, “Did you bring that honey for me?”
“Uh-huh.” Like so many times before, I lose basic language skills when he looks at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. He’s so getting laid later.
Two fingers slide under my jaw and tilt my chin up just so he can lean down and kiss me. At the firehouse. In public. For anyone, including Chantilly, to see.
I wrap my arms around him and deepen the kiss. Not for anyone else, only for me, my tongue twisting with his while his hands roam my back. It’s the applause that has us slowly releasing and turning to look back in Chantilly’s direction, where she and three firefighters are clapping for us.