Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“So, we visited on Thursday, and I think it’ll be perfect.” Jif ruffled Nix’s ears, his head in her lap, as she curled up across from Miles on his couch. Her pad thai sat practically untouched on the coffee table beside her, but her eyes glittered.
Miles slowly chewed a bite of stir-fried chicken.
He had no idea what half the stuff Jif had said meant—chargers and porcelain patterns and thread counts—but as she described her vision for her brother’s event, her excitement palpable, he could almost envision it.
Her hands swept expressively through the air, mimicking balloons here, a photo booth there, and a dozen other things he couldn’t quite picture, but which brought a flush to her cheeks.
She was adorable, and also sexy, which probably wasn’t actually a thing, but either way, he had to actively resist shoving his dog off the couch so he could get closer to her. Preferably much closer.
And bring that blush back for a whole different reason.
He groaned and shifted in his seat.
“Are you hurting?”
He shook his head—unwilling to explain—and Jif launched back into describing her plans.
“I thought about an auction, but Colton insists everyone does one of those, so I think instead we’ll have the recipients scattered around and invite the attendees to sponsor them.
Kind of like when you get those letters saying, ‘For forty dollars, you can give a family a flock of chickens,’ but more like, ‘For a thousand dollars, you can cover books and lab fees for a semester’. ”
Miles coughed, the amount enough to make his head spin.
Nix’s head came up, glancing over his shoulder at his handler before returning to Jif for more love.
He hadn’t gone to traditional college, and even if paramedic school and his firefighter certification had cost plenty, he couldn’t quite understand how someone could spend thousands of dollars on books. On one semester of books. No wonder these kids needed scholarships.
“Are you sure they’re willing?” He didn’t want to insult Jif, but exploiting a bunch of college kids to raise scholarship funds, even if they’d reap the benefits, didn’t sit quite right for him.
Her eyes softened as they caught his. “I’ll make sure they’re okay with it. I’ve only met a few of them this year, but I’ll reach out to the last couple of years’ students, too. We can probably get a good batch that way.”
Miles nodded, satisfied.
“You’ll come, right? It’s a couple days after your CPAT.”
The slow fall of her hair over her shoulder had captured his attention, but at her words, he flinched.
Go? To one of her fundraiser events?
Still, as he studied her face, suffused with glowing joy, he couldn’t quite bring himself to disappoint her.
Plus, after his CPAT, he’d be in good enough shape to spend an evening at her side.
Even more reason to keep pushing himself at the gym, no matter how much it hurts.
Passing his firefighter recertification and escorting his girlfriend to her fundraising event in the same week?
What better goals could he set for himself?
What better benchmarks for a return to normal life?
He was already tantalizingly close. His cane still rested by the front door, but he hadn’t needed it in a week or two. His limp had almost disappeared, even if the pain still spiked by the end of a long day.
“Absolutely.”
She squealed, and Nix shook his head, ears flapping, then jumped off the couch.
“Sorry, boy,” Jif apologized, rescuing her food from the coffee table as he sniffed the edge of her plate. “Nope, not for you.”
She took a bite, then kept talking around it, but when her words came out garbled, she paused just long enough to chew and swallow. With a cough, she reached for her can of sparkling water and washed the food down.
“Easy, you’ll choke.” Then again, if she needed rescue breaths, he wouldn’t complain about any excuse to press his lips to hers.
Except, choking victims usually vomit, so, on second thought, hard pass.
Another lock of hair fell forward over her shoulder as she crammed her loaded fork into her mouth, but she did chew more slowly this time and waited until she’d swallowed to speak again.
“I’m so glad you’re coming. You haven’t really met Britt, yet, or her boyfriend, Garrett. Colton will be there. And my mom.” She grimaced, slowly twining more noodles.
Miles waited. He loved her excited and passionate moments, but he valued her quiet, processing moments even more. They were stained glass windows into her soul, less vibrant, more muted than her sunshine laugh, but still saturated and shining. Blues and greens instead of roses and golds.
“Is it too soon? Yeah, you probably don’t want to meet my mom, yet.”
He leaned forward, splaying a hand over her knee where she had it tucked up against the back of the couch, almost cross-legged, but with her other foot dangling onto the floor.
Color flooded her cheeks.
Apparently, he wasn’t the only one overly aware of every brush between their bodies. Every touch. Every stolen glance and shivery breath.
“Do you want me to meet your mom?”
She continued twisting her fork, though she’d never fit such a large bite into her mouth. “She’s...”
When she didn’t say anything else, Miles squeezed her knee. “Not you.”
Jif’s head jerked up, eyes meeting his.
“And you’re not her.”
She studied him for a moment, head tipped to one side as if she wasn’t certain whether to take his words at face value. Lifting her too-full fork, half the food slithered off with a wet plop.
“Ack!”
Droplets of brownish peanut sauce spattered her face and shirt, the back of the couch, and even Miles’s hand where it rested on her knee.
Nix leapt to his feet, quick to take advantage of the mess, and his long tongue swiped the edge of her plate before working its way down her jeans and over the inside of her arm.
“Nix, cut it out.” She stood. “I’ll grab something to clean up. Will you hold this so he doesn’t steal anymore?”
Miles took her plate, hiding his disappointment that so far, his dog had gotten more action tonight than he had.
“Under the sink,” he called after her, effectively pinned down as he juggled their dinners. He nudged Nix away with his foot as the dog licked the couch. “Go on, boy. Go lie down.”
Jif came back carrying a roll of paper towels, but when she caught sight of him, half-slouched, trying to keep the plates above Nix’s head while simultaneously ushering the big dog away, she dissolved into hysterical laughter.
“A little help?” Miles pleaded, sliding deeper into the cushions and using his knee to block his dratted dog.
Unable to speak, Jif continued laughing, but she grabbed both plates and spun away to set them on the bar, then caught Nix’s collar and pulled him off Miles. Together, they wiped up the mess, and Jif soaked a towel in warm water, then blotted the worst of the spots.
“I’m so sorry. I have a little steam cleaner I can bring over and get these stains out.”
Sinking to the floor beside her, leg outstretched to keep the muscles loose and relaxed, Miles shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. You’d probably be horrified by how dirty this couch is from Nix always lying on it and never wanting to come back to my place.”
Jif, the towels gathered into a wad in her hands, turned toward him, and his breath caught at the subtle heat shimmering in her eyes.
“That could never happen,” she reassured him, voice low and a little rough.
He finally gave in to the temptation, brushing her hair over her shoulder and cupping the back of her neck. Tugging her toward him, he pressed his lips to hers.
She let him lead, and when he deepened it by swiping his tongue across the seam of her lips, she opened readily to him.
He could drown in her kiss. Easily. But it would resuscitate him, too. Stealing and giving every breath until he didn’t know where his air ended, and hers began.
He never wanted to stop, but as a warm, damp sensation distracted him, he broke away, glancing down to find the wadded paper towels leaving a growing stain on his chest.