22. Tyler
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
tyler
I’ve been waiting in the bay trying to look busy a full twenty minutes before she shows up. I’m leaning against the side of the truck with my arms loosely crossed, gaze drifting over equipment I’ve already checked twice.
Totally normal behavior.
The bay doors are cracked just enough to let cold air slip in, mixing with diesel and rubber and that faint metallic smell that never fully leaves.
Somewhere in the kitchen a cabinet slams, and I hear Coop bitching about someone stealing his yogurt as if he’s never committed petty theft from the fridge himself.
“I bought it,” Trick yells back at him.
“That doesn’t mean you can eat it!”
“I literally bought it!”
Without thinking, I call over my shoulder, “Check the second shelf. Marco hid it behind the orange juice.”
A beat.
“Oh, you son of a—” Coop’s voice echoes through the station.
I shake my head, grinning to myself.
Then I hear the front door—the shift of air, then footsteps on concrete.
Just so I don’t look completely pathetic, I make myself wait a second before glancing up.
When I finally do, I spot her inside the threshold, taking in the trucks, the open space, the organized chaos of a station between calls. Her bright eyes wander over the bay before finally finding me and giving me a small smile.
“You weren’t kidding.”
“About?”
“You actually live here.”
I push off the truck.
“Told you. This is the glamorous side of public service.”
I gesture around the bay just as somebody calls from the apparatus floor.
“Ty!”
“Yeah?”
“Cap’s looking for the inventory sheets.”
“Desk in the watch office.”
“Found ’em.”
I turn back to Darcy.
“See? Glamorous.”
She laughs.
“I’ll admit, it’s a little cooler than I pictured.”
“Give it five minutes.”
She starts toward me, and that’s when I notice the container tucked under her arm.
“What’s that?” I ask, nodding toward it.
She glances down like she’d almost forgotten she was carrying it, then lifts it with an innocent little shrug.
“Girl dinner for me. Peace offering for you…”
“Or bribery. Depends how this tour goes.”
“You brought me baked goods?”
“I brought you chocolate chip cookies.”
She pops the lid and holds it out for me to see inside.
“You baked for me?”
“I was hungry.”
“And then voluntarily transported them to my workplace.”
“I’m taking them back.”
I grab one without asking and take a bite.
“Jesus,” I say around it. “I love your cookies, Darcy.”
She narrows her eyes while I let the innuendo sit between us. I just grin, finishing the bite like I hadn’t said exactly what I meant.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I get that a lot.”
Before she can change her mind about the cookies—or the tour—I reach for her hand. It feels so natural I don’t even think about it until our fingers are already laced together.
We rarely do repeats with the women we share. And we certainly don’t do solo missions. But with her, I don’t want it to be a one-time thing.
I ignore the thought completely.
“Come on,” I say, leading her deeper into the station.
She looks around, curiosity written all over her perfect face.
“Do I get to climb on things, or is this more of a look-don’t-touch situation?”
I chuckle.
“Careful. You’re starting to sound like trouble again.”
“Starting to?”
Coop spots us before I can answer.
“About time,” he calls. “You gonna show her the exciting parts or just stare at each other all night?”
“Mind your business,” I shoot back.
“I was. Then you brought yours to work.”
Darcy laughs beside me.
“Hi again.”
“Less green than last time,” Coop says.
“Less beer,” she agrees.
“Less festive,” Trick calls from the kitchen doorway.
Darcy laughs.
“Ignore them.”
“You say that like you aren’t one of them.”
“She’s catching on already.” Coop folds his arms. “You giving the deluxe tour?”
“Depends.”
I look down at her.
“On?”
“Whether she behaves.”
“No promises,” she says.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Well don’t let us hold you up,” Coop raises his hands.
“You kids behave,” Marco shouts.
We continue down the hall, weaving through the station—the kitchen where we share family meals, the watch office, the gym where half the crew spends their downtime pretending they’re still twenty-two.
Every few steps somebody calls my name, asks a question, gives Darcy a smile or a hard time.
She takes it all in without missing a beat, asking questions about everything, making herself at home in a place she’d never seen before.
By the time we reach the bunk room, she’s already stopped looking like a visitor.
She peers through the doorway as we approach our next stop.
“That’s your bunk?”
“Yep.”
Her eyes move over the narrow bed before landing back on me.
“Smaller than I pictured.”
I stop walking.
“You’ve pictured it?”
She freezes.
“...Maybe.”
I grin.
“That’s adorable.”
“Don’t ruin it.”
I laugh and keep walking until we get to the lockers, pulling the door to mine open.
My turnout gear hangs inside exactly where it always does. A few photos from the academy and a handful of outings are tucked into the frame, along with an old picture of Mack and me standing in front of our first engine after graduation.
Her smile softens.
“You kept these?”
I glance at the photo.
“Guess I did.”
Her fingers hover near the picture without quite touching it.
“You and Mack haven’t changed much.”
She studies it for another second.
“You still look at him the same way.”
My eyes flick to hers.
“How’s that?”
“Like you’ve always got each other’s backs.”
A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.
“Yeah, we do.”
She nods like she’d already decided that was the answer.
“Where is he, anyway?”
I close the locker.
“Paperwork with our captain.”
“Guess I’ve got you all to myself for a little while.”
She says it so casually, already looking farther down the hall, completely unaware she’s just knocked something loose in my chest.
All to myself.
I grin before I can start wondering why that matters.
We head back downstairs, her asking more questions about the academy. I tell her about Coop almost getting himself smoked during drills because he couldn’t stop cracking jokes.
By the time we step back into the bay, the house is quieter and Engine 37 is gleaming under the fluorescent lights.
“So,” I ask, glancing down at her, “how would you rate my tour guide skills?”
“Well, you’re no Disney cast member, but you did a solid job.”
“Five stars?”
“I’d give it a solid four.”
“Only four?”
“You missed a spot.”
“Did I?”
Instead of answering, her eyes drift to the engine before finding me again.
Fuck me.
“Well,” I say, unable to hide my grin, “I wouldn’t want our VIP leaving a bad review.”
I nod toward the truck.
“After you.”
She doesn’t hesitate, grabbing the rail and pulling herself up with determination. She makes it up in one go, one slightly ungraceful pivot at the top that she immediately plays off as intentional that makes me bite back a grin.
Before I follow her up, I glance around the bay, praying to god that no one wanders through and that the tones keep quiet for the next twenty minutes otherwise Cap and Mack will both have my ass.
I listen one last time to see if I can hear any of the guys close by before hauling myself up after her.
Darcy’s already settled into one of the jump seats, looking way too good for someone who definitely isn’t supposed to be hanging out in the back of a fire engine.
“So,” she says. “Do you give grand tours to all your booty calls?”
I huff out a laugh.
“No.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“Really?”
“Really.”
She studies me for a second like she’s trying to decide whether she believes me.
I don’t blame her.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I laugh.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m full of shit.”
“Are you?”
I shake my head.
“Mack wouldn’t have allowed that. Would’ve killed me for suggesting we bring someone up here…”
I shrug.
“...and I haven’t really wanted to bring anyone here on my own in a long time.”
She watches me for a beat.
“And Mack wouldn’t kill you for bringing me up here?”
“Oh, he’d absolutely kill me. But for different reasons.”
I lean one hand against the frame beside her, barely boxing her in.
She swallows.
There it is again. Her bravado slipping slightly.
I like seeing that look. Like knowing I can knock her a little off balance, same way she does to me.
“You always show up to places like you own them?”
“Only the ones worth showing up to,” she says.
That’s the version of her I like best. Brave enough to go for it, just terrified enough to second-guess herself afterward.
Her fingers come up and brush my wrist where it rests against the frame lightly, making my cock twitch in my pants.
I let out a breath that slips into a laugh.
“Darcy…”
“What?”
Keep it professional, keep it professional.
Christ, she’s gonna ruin me.
“I’m trying to behave.”
“Are you going to keep talking, or are you actually going to do something? Because if you don’t in the next ten seconds I’m going to lose my nerve and start talking about the weather and that’s going to be embarrassing for both of us.”
That does it.
My hand slides from to her waist, pulling her forward until there’s nothing left between us. Her knees part around me, her back hitting the seat.
The second our lips meet, I stop thinking about the shift or the station or any of the reasons this is probably a terrible idea.
It doesn’t feel like a terrible idea.
Her hand slides up the back of my neck, pulling me deeper into the kiss. I exhale against her mouth, tightening my grip on her waist as she opens for me. I slide onto the jump seat beside her and pull her into my lap without breaking the kiss.
She’s already rolling her hips against me, grinding down on my hard cock like she’s trying to start a fire.
If she keeps this up I’m gonna nut my pants.
My thumb slips beneath the hem of her shirt, tracing the warm curve of her waist. She shivers when I pull her closer, matching the slow roll of her hips with mine.
I lift her shirt over her head in one smooth motion, and she lets me. Then she’s sitting in my lap in nothing but her jeans and a lacy black bra, making me pause.