Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
AUSTIN
The piece of paper in my pocket had practically burned a hole through it. I’d kept it there as punishment for being an idiot. Sure, I’d been busy picking up extra shifts, using it as an excuse not to reach out to Stassi.
But I’d been unsuccessful in forgetting how she made me feel. Her smile, her curves, her non-stop narrative as she talked through her story. A romance writer. How had I fallen under the spell of a woman who wrote happy-ever-afters for a living?
I knew plenty of couples in successful and loving relationships, and I really shouldn’t judge Stassi’s profession. But growing up in a household full of lies and drama had done a number on me and my siblings. None of us were eager to repeat what we’d witnessed as kids.
Sitting here beating myself up about going back on my word with Stassi made for a lonely Saturday.
I’d turned down going out with some guys from the station.
Hell, I was usually the first one to suggest hitting up one of our go-to spots and blowing off some steam, maybe finding someone to flirt with.
Not tonight. Tonight felt too much like penance for finding myself majorly attracted to Hunter’s sister.
A sister I had no clue he had, since I’d just recently transferred in from another station in Pineville.
And word was he was contemplating leaving Pineville Fire & Rescue for a private outfit that did backcountry rescues now that he’d secured his pilot’s license.
So, really it shouldn’t matter if I wanted to pursue Stassi. We were adults. And now I felt even more like an idiot for letting two days go by without texting her the information I had promised. I jumped up from the couch and grabbed my jacket. Two steps from the garage door, my cell beeped.
It was a text from Rex.
Saw Stassi at Evergran’s. Do something NOW if u want 2 make up 4 being an idiot.
Then Paxton’s warning came out of nowhere, taunting me. “I wouldn’t want to be you when Hunter hears about this.”
Well, he wasn’t me, and this was happening.
Just because she wrote love stories didn’t mean anything.
It's not like I was planning on proposing. Maybe she’d be up for some fun?
Maybe explore the attraction we both felt.
And then wait for the inevitable fizzle after we’d scratched that itch. That’s how it always ended for me.
Yet there was this unfamiliar and insistent rush of emotion whenever I pictured her face that just wouldn’t turn off even as I questioned it. That had to mean something. I just wasn’t sure what.
Checking my watch, I saw it was just now seven thirty.
Plenty of time to make it to Tom’s warehouse and pick up a new oven for Stassi and deliver it before it got too late in the evening.
Solid plan. And then the traffic lights were all green, and Tom was still working.
I was able to get the same model as she’d had before.
I made it to her place shortly before nine.
But she wasn’t home. So I’d wait. I was good at waiting. The job required it. And thank God I didn’t have to wait long. Seventeen minutes later, she pulled up next to my truck, an unreadable expression on her face as she exited her car produced flop sweat on my brow.
“Hey.”
“Hey, back.” This wasn’t weird at all. Two virtual strangers outside on an early February night in temps just above freezing, staring awkwardly at each other.
Stassi’s gaze left mine and landed on the box in the bed of my truck. “You bought me an oven? Why?”
“Why?” I’d been so focused on making up for not texting that I hadn’t really thought of a reason. In my experience, most women would be thrilled with any gift. Her stoic reaction threw me off my game, and I struggled for an honest answer.
“Yeah. Why, after two-plus days of silence are you sitting in my driveway at nine o’clock-ish at night with an oven in the back of your truck?”
“Well…isn’t it kind of obvious?” Heart thundering, I tried to see things from her point of view.
Stassi’s left eyebrow lifted, then her eyes narrowed, and to be honest, it was as sexy as hell. Willing myself not to grin at her, I ran my hand over my face then got out of the truck. She stumbled back a bit, and I snagged an arm to steady her. “Whoa, sorry.”
Once again, I was momentarily shocked by my body’s reaction to this woman.
A low hum filled my ears. My fingers, my palm itched.
To keep touching her. And this time I didn’t pull myself away.
I held on and studied her face. Hoping to see the same reaction mirrored in her gaze, I waited.
And was rewarded with her widening eyes, and quick intake of breath followed by the tip of her pink tongue swiping her lips.
“I, uh. No, you’re…uh, fine. I was standing too close…
and, uh. Shoot. Do you always go around replacing ditzy women’s appliances after a fire?
” Her words tumbled out, and the confusion in her eyes was like a beacon drawing me in.
I wanted to assure her that she was special to me.
That I had never pulled a stunt like this before to get a woman’s attention.
And the fact she hadn’t shrugged from my grasp fed my confidence that she wanted my touch.
“It’s the least I could do. Especially after not calling or texting you like I said I would. And no, I don’t make a habit of buying appliances on a Saturday night for women. Tom will send you the invoice. And you’re not ditzy. I’m a man of my word and I wanted to do this, okay?”
Her expression softened. She raised her free hand to her chest and sighed.
At least, I think she did. Then she shyly smiled.
“Thank you. I, uh, but that really doesn’t make sense.
I mean, we don’t know each other and…oh, that’s very thoughtful of you.
But you didn’t need to…not so late…and, oh, I’m babbling again. ”
“No need to thank me. I’m not expecting anything…
you know, from you in return, so please don’t worry.
Just wanted to make sure you had an oven so you could cook.
And I kinda like your babbling. It’s cute.
” I’d noticed her eyes had fallen to my mouth, so I acted on instinct.
Pressing my lips against hers—so damn soft—warm and welcoming.
I pulled her close, desperate to touch her, needing her heat against me.
There was an immediate shift in the air around us. One minute we're both stumbling over our words, the next it was as if we were both dying of thirst and drinking our fill. Well, that’s what I felt at least.
Stassi’s lips were soft, responsive, and I think she might have been humming as I kissed her. God, I hope that was a good sign because I was ready to kiss her all night despite the cold.
And then she tunneled her hands under my shirt and kissed me back. Giving, taking, surrendering to my tongue as I swept inside her mouth. Hell yeah.
A mixture of validation and triumph filled me. Gripping her hips, I deepened the kiss further. She responded with a sexy little moan. The intensity of our first meeting, the connection I’d felt was returned in her kiss. And it didn’t have to make sense. None of it.
Pushing back the sudden thought that this, that she was more than just another hook-up or short-term relationship, that my feelings of wanting more could only be a momentary hormone surge fled the moment she pressed her curvy body closer, plastering her full breasts against me.
I’d figure everything out later. Much later.
The sound of an engine ruined the moment. Followed by the slam of a car door. I didn’t bother to stop kissing her or even open my eyes to look, thinking it was probably a neighbor returning home.
“Stassi. You okay?” The worry in the man’s voice should have been my first clue. And then recognition of who the owner of the voice belonged to came just as he barked out my name. “Austin, what are you doing here with my sister?”
Shit. Hunter Sheridan had crap timing.