I’m a stranger in this place. When a car accident nearly killed me, Mom took me away from my father and this small Texas town. Now, I’m back, and while everyone seems to remember the little girl I used to be, no one knows the woman I’ve become. That’s okay. I’m not here to reconnect or fix what’s broken between my father and me. I’m just here to fix the house I inherited, sell it, and go.
Then I meet Bodhi, the three-legged cat who keeps peeing on my porch. And along comes Bodhi’s dad, Drew, the protective firefighter with rough hands, a smooth smile, and such a dirty mouth.
Drew has a reputation for rescuing strays. Is that what I am, another stray for him to rescue? Or this time, maybe I’ll be the rescuer.
Hearts on Fire is a dual POV, small town, scorching hot, firefighter romance with an HEA. Contains mature language and themes.
Drew
“You’ve been busy.” I sound impressed because I am. “Did you get all that wood out of here by yourself?”
She nods, beaming, then adds, “I can handle a little wood on my own.”
Did she just…? Why, yes, I believe she did just open the innuendo door. And here I come to bust through it like the fucking Kool-Aid Man. Oh yeah! “But how are you at handling big wood?”
Her eyes go wide, and she practically spits out a laugh. “You got some big wood around here that needs handling, Drew?”
Oh, Chloe, Chloe, Chloe, it’s game on now. You have no idea the beast you’ve unleashed.
To throw her off balance, I point to the pile of fresh lumber. “Well, there’s this big pile of wood right here.”
She raises a brow, trying to read something into my words. But there’s nothing there. That would be too obvious, and that’s not how I play this game. With my most earnest expression, I suggest, “Let’s get to work. I’ll help you get this wood into place.”
I use the ladder to climb into the attic, crouching where the first beam will go. From here I have an excellent vantage point for watching Chloe bend over to retrieve a piece of big wood. Her ass is a masterpiece, sculpted by the gods and probably lots of squats. I want my hands on it. I want my hands on every part of her, followed by my mouth.
She stands and turns with the board on her shoulder, looking like a total badass. I blink to wipe the nefarious thoughts from my head and focus on the job at hand.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “Do you need to cut these down to size, or are we going to let them run wild?”
“Big wood should run wild, don’t you think?” she says with a wink as she hands one end of the wood up to me. Nice. Chloe wants to play.
I hold my end in place while she moves the ladder and takes her end to the far side of the room, fitting it up over the load-bearing wall. When she grabs her hammer and a nail, I lend her some encouragement in my bedroom voice. “That’s it, Chloe. Right there. Nail that wood.”
“Oh my God!” She laughs so hard she nearly smashes her thumb—whoops.
I wait for her to collect herself and position the nail against the joist again. “Fuck, yes, that‘s the spot.”
Laughing, she shakes her head and focuses on hammering.
“Harder!” I demand. “Faster!”
I can’t help noticing she hits that nail a little harder, moving a little faster. I like how well she takes direction.
“Don’t stop, Chloe. All the way in. Yes. Just like that, nice and tight.”
When the joist is attached, she gives me a grimace and a raised eyebrow. With a wink, I nail my end to the joist that spans the other half of the house. I swing down out of the attic and hang from the joist we just nailed to execute one, two, three chin-ups before I let go. My boots hit the floor with a boom.
“You thirsty?” I ask, my voice low, my question dripping with double meaning.
She climbs down the ladder. “Do you really think that’s all it’ll take to make me thirsty?”
Stepping into her space again, I wait for her to look up at me before I say, “Well, I’m thirsty for something sweet. You got anything to wet my mouth and whet my craving?”
She stares at my mouth and licks her lips. Oh yeah, she’s thirsty all right.
My gloves come off so I can brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “How about some juice?”
Her eyelashes flutter a bit before she furrows her brow. “Huh?” She blinks, clears her throat. “Uh…”
“Orange, apple, grape… I’m not picky. I’ll help myself if you don’t mind.” I walk into her kitchen, light on my feet, acting like I don’t know I’ve just melted her panties.
Chloe
At this rate, I’m going to jump his bones before we get even half these joists up. Good Lord, the man is sex incarnate. Every syllable of what he’s said makes me want to see his dick. I’ll bet it’s pretty. If his self-confidence is any measure, he’s got to be sporting some pretty big wood.
He returns from my kitchen nursing a little glass of OJ and winks at me over the rim. I could laugh, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
Inez was right; this guy is trouble. Not red-flag trouble, but definitely yellow.
A citizen of the Cherokee Nation, Christina is originally from Oklahoma, and currently resides in Austin, Texas. When not writing, she's usually helping her husband with their never-ending home remodeling adventure or marathon watching British crime dramas.
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Great excerpt! Love dirty banter!
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