Chapter Seventeen
“This is Peyton,” said Josie, embracing the warmth in her cheeks that hopefully only highlighted her sexy elf costume.
It was always a bit daunting to introduce a date—Peyton had agreed to the term during the car ride to the station—to a friend as if the success of the entire evening hinged on that first encounter.
Especially when said friend was Captain James Hendriks.
“You know we’ve already met before, right?
” James grinned. His Santa beard was all crooked and his belly—a pillow stuffed into the suit—made him look less cookie-filled and more pregnant.
“But that was in a work environment, and this is social, so let me try that again.” He closed his eyes, put on a completely new face, and stuck out his hand.
“The infamous Peyton. So nice to finally meet you. This feels like an honor.”
“Infamous?” frowned Peyton, glancing sidelong at Josie as if she wasn’t sure what to do with that piece of information. “That can’t be good.”
“Not all,” he agreed, smiling through the mustache. “But it’s not like Josie’s a cupcake either. You must be pretty patient to keep up with her.”
“What?” Josie feigned a gasp. “I’m a chocolate cupcake with vanilla icing and dried strawberry flakes on top.”
James laughed, his head tilting back as he rubbed his lopsided belly. Since they weren’t on the clock, he had switched off his militant captain demeanor and flicked on the laid-back funny guy. The guy Josie loved like a brother.
“I’m just kidding,” he said. “Josie is a catch. But I’m sure you know that already.”
Peyton smiled. She then glanced in Josie’s direction, locked her gaze, and tilted her head to the side. “Do you really talk about me at work?”
“Not all the time.” Josie defended. She was pretty sure she had only mentioned Peyton to her colleagues a handful of times—possibly several hands. “But that’s not important right now. What’s important is how well Ang and Murry decorated this place. I mean, look at this setup.”
She gestured around the room with an open-armed sweep.
Strings of twinkling lights hung from the ceiling in the station’s living room.
Brightly colored tinsel and garland were stuck unceremoniously to the walls, and an artificial Christmas tree with a naughty elf beneath it stood on the kitchen countertop.
The long wooden kitchen table, usually reserved for crew meals, was covered in a red-and-white checkered tablecloth, topped with platters of festive snacks. There was everything from candy canes to gingerbread cookies to pineapple skewers and pigs-in-a-blanket.
Station 26 went all out for its Christmas in July party, and Josie knew from experience that later there were going to be games: Christmas movie trivia, Santa Limbo, and snowball toss—using white bean bags to mimic snowballs.
“I know, right?” said James, his eyes scanning the room. “They did a fantastic job. And so did everyone with the costumes. You two look adorable, by the way.”
“Not adorable,” corrected Josie with a roll of her eyes. “We’re sexy elves.” She gave a playful spin to showcase the form-fitting green velvet pants, the off-the-shoulder cropped top with white-fur trimmed sleeves, and the pointy hat on her head.
Peyton stood beside her wearing bauble earrings and a tight skirt that came way above her knees, for goodness’ sake.
She was the epitome of hotness. But Josie knew James well enough to know that he would never refer to a woman directly as sexy.
He had far too much respect for the opposite sex.
Bruce, on the other hand, apparently didn’t hold the same feminist sensibilities.
Wearing reindeer antlers and a red nose, Bruce, an EMT, and Josie’s colleague, burst into their half circle, singing, “Ooh sexy elves. This reindeer needs to be patted.” He then made some brazen reindeer sounds that needed a bit of work.
“Bruce,” said Josie with a raise of her brows, like she was scolding him without actually saying anything. “Go fetch us some punch, will you?”
He fluttered his eyelashes and brought a palm to his chest. “Anything for you, Josie love.” Then he spun on the spot and jogged off to the table.
James glanced back over his shoulder. “This happens every year.”
“It’s because he’s as sober as a judge for the entire year until the Christmas party, and then he lets loose.” Josie gazed around the busy room for a woman with bright red curls and even redder lipstick. “Where’s Maggie? She needs to control her husband.”
James laughed. “How about I occupy him for a bit so you two can escape? I’ll bring out my Santa Claus authority.”
Josie kissed him on his cheek and waited for him to leave before she stepped back toward Peyton, interlacing their fingers. “Come. I want to show you my favorite place at the station.” She tugged at Peyton’s hand, but the woman remained firm on the spot.
“This is it, isn’t it?” said Peyton with a straight face. “You’re finally going to kill me, aren’t you? Skin me alive so that you can have some memorabilia to admire forever.”
Josie laughed. “If I was going to kill you, I wouldn’t do it at my place of work. Too risky.”
“Or it’s the perfect place.”
Josie grinned—she’d been doing a ton of smiling lately and her cheeks were aching in protest—and when she tugged again, Peyton’s feet moved.
“So, where are we going?” asked Peyton, following closely behind her like a shadow.
“Somewhere quiet,” Josie said, glancing back with a wink. “Where no one can hear you scream.”
“Ha. Ha.”
Josie led them through the garage to a red door that opened onto to a small backyard.
Once upon a time, it had been a dump full of old office chairs, broken equipment, and other discarded items that were too worn to function.
But two years ago, the crew had transformed the space into a Zen Garden as a tribute to fallen firefighters.
It was complete with neatly raked gravel and a few young trees.
Each tree bore a small brass plaque at its base, engraved with the name of the firefighter who had lost their life.
Fairy lights were strung between the branches, twinkling like fireflies in the darkness.
“This place is beautiful.”
“You should see it in the daylight,” said Josie, looking up at the night sky. The stars dotted the heavens like pencil marks, and the sliver of a waxing moon emerged from a small tuft of cloud.
“Maybe one day I will.”
Josie’s arm snaked around Peyton’s waist, pulling her closer. “Is that your way of saying that you’ll visit me here? Maybe you will bring me coffee and cake when I least expect it.”
She loved how there was no more resistance between them, how Peyton’s body was succumbing to her touch. It felt so comfortable how Peyton was leaning into her like she was the spine keeping her up.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
Josie chuckled as her hands skated up along Peyton’s waist, smoothing over her shoulders and tangled in Peyton’s hair.
Their mouths met, first brushing softly, teasingly, and then colliding like two forces.
They were like the sun and the moon, eclipsing their lips while their tongues danced together.
Hands roamed and bodies pulled flush. Breaths mingled loudly and desperately as Josie tried to get as much of Peyton as possible. She hoped she could drink her up, climb into her skin, and merge forever.
But the kiss didn’t last a lifetime like Josie wanted it to. Not that she was disappointed. Especially when Peyton swiveled them around and then stepped forward, leading Josie to the nearest wall and pushed her up against it. “You sure there aren’t any cameras up around here?”
“Eighty percent positive.”
Peyton appeared to ponder the odds and then chuckled. “Well, eighty percent is enough for me.” Then, she moved her fingers south to the buttons of Josie’s pants, freeing both buttons before she worked the zipper and slipped her hand beneath the velvet material.
Josie moaned, even before Peyton moved a palm over her panties, even before her fingers traced and pressed and explored. Just the moment, the heat of Peyton’s thigh pushed against hers and her smile was enough to make her moan a hundred times.
“You’re so wet already,” grinned Peyton, slipping her fingers beneath the fabric, and dipping them in her wet heat.
“I mean, how can you expect me not to if you keep…” Josie cut herself off and closed her eyes while Peyton worked circles, continuing the exploration.
She was driving her so deep into a state of altered sensation that she could think of absolutely nothing besides Peyton.
She was utterly consumed by the citrusy smell of her shampoo and by the way her waves brushed over Josie’s cheek mid-kiss on the neck.
Her head tilted back against the concrete, pushing uncomfortably against the rough wall. But she couldn’t concentrate on that because she was far too busy concentrating on Peyton slipping in another finger and then pumping both so hard Josie’s hips lifted up in response.
“Harder,” she mumbled. Her eyes were still closed, and she was loving Peyton’s breath on her neck. It was impressive the way she could manage to both kiss her and torture her when all Josie could do was surrender to the touch, arms falling limply to the side.
At least bucking her hips counted as participation, something she was doing hard and fast while Peyton slipped those fingers out and zoned in on her clit. She applied just the right pressure at just the right intervals until Josie exploded into a million orgasmic stars.
She collapsed forward, basically falling into Peyton. Her mouth was on the woman’s bare shoulder, her breath hot and catching. “Should we go back to my place?”
Peyton shook her head and smiled. Those white teeth, like a vampire, glistened under the moonlight. Josie would gladly offer up her neck. She would let the woman suck her dry any day of the week.
“Let’s go to my house,” said Peyton, emerging her hand from Josie’s pants and giving her fingers the hottest fucking lick Josie had ever seen.
If there was ever a time to fall head over heels in love with her, it was now.