Toasted

CHAPTER ONE

Libby couldn’t havestopped herself screaming even if she wanted to. It was just all too much. And too freaking ridiculous. So there she stood, under the partition connecting her living room and kitchen, wailing like a banshee.

The purpose of the scream wasn’t to gain attention. Or to freak out her new neighbors. But as the air emptied from her lungs, the thought of what people may think did occur to her. Briefly. Although right now she was much more concerned with all the bruises on her ass from the beating life was giving her.

The nice nine-one-one operator had confirmed the fire department were on their way, thank God. She’d also told Libby to go outside, but Libby had not gone outside. Not yet. She was way too busy having a nervous breakdown.

I’ve only been here one day. One. Day!

She was in a new town, in a new state and it had been a long and tiring week of packing and moving. All she’d wanted was to eat some breakfast in peace. Was that too much to ask?

Yes. It was.

The universe however had other plans. Obviously. Because here she was, flames dancing across her kitchen countertop. All because she’d wanted some toast. Toast! Toast had caused this carnage.

How does a frigging toaster just spontaneously combust?

Was this a thing? How was it possible she’d gone thirty-one years of her life without knowing toasters could just set alight whenever they damn well felt like it?

People should really talk about this. Spread the word far and wide. Beware of the toaster. It may look innocent, but it will burn your house to the ground when you least expect it. Why the hell weren’t more people talking about this?

It was starting to get smoky now. She needed to get herself together. Quick. At least she’d stopped screaming. Well, externally, anyway.

“Get your shit together,” she mumbled before stumbling back into the living area behind her. The front door was just to the left of the main room.

Time to go. Come on, move Libby. Move.

She didn’t move. Her feet were glued to the floor. Suddenly, she heard a knock on the door. Was it a neighbor? Or was it the firefighters? Did firefighters knock?

She clearly didn’t react fast enough because the next thing she knew, a battering ram had made its way into her living room.

As men in uniform descended, she was still yet to move.

“Ma’am, you need to come with me, it’s not safe in here.” As she lifted her head, she realized the man’s fierce blue eyes were directed her way. Boring into her. Oh dear. He did not look happy.

Probably ‘cause you stood here staring at the fire like a freak instead of getting the hell out like the nice lady told you.

Jolting in awareness, she quickly nodded and allowed herself to be led outside by the big, strong man.

Once he’d steered her through the front yard, he gestured for her to sit on the curb. She did so without question, wincing as her bare legs grazed the cool concrete. Internally, she cringed as she looked down at what she was wearing.

They probably see women in pajamas all the time, right?It was morning after all.

Still in a daze, her gaze traveled up the man standing before her, slowly taking in every inch. From his thick thighs struggling to be contained by reflective tan trousers, all the way up to the broad, solid chest, she could have sworn she saw flex. Then he removed his mask and let’s just say, wow.

Holy hell.

He crouched down before her, her eyes never wavering from his. It felt as if everything was in slow motion. If this was a movie, this would be the part where he’d take off the helmet too. And then maybe his shirt.

Get your mind out of the gutter, Libby.

Were all firefighters this gorgeous? Like some kind of weirdo, she actually started to look around, hoping to spot other men in the vicinity she could do a quick comparison with.

“Are you okay, ma’am? Are you looking for someone? Is there someone else in the house we should know about?” Of course his voice was just as hot as his face. Dripping with testosterone. All deep and rumbly.

Down girl. Just ‘cause it’s been forever since you got laid, doesn’t give you an excuse to hump the leg of every good-looking man that comes your way.

“Oh, uh, no. Just me,” she spluttered, as she tried a bit too hard to get the image of her humping his leg out of her head.

The big man eyed her curiously for a moment. She really hoped he couldn’t read minds. After such a ludicrous morning she was starting to believe anything was possible. Even that.

Whatever was going on in his head seemed to go as quickly as it had come. He blew out a long breath before neutralising his expression. “Do you mind if I check you over?”

Ummm ...“Check me over?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m one of the medics on the crew.”

Libby’s head tilted as she allowed herself one last perusal of his tan uniform. “Oh. Uh, if you’re a medic, how come you’re dressed as a firefighter?”

Her eyes returned to his face just in time to witness his lips twitch. “I’m not allowed to be good at two things?”

She couldn’t stop her eyebrow from raising. Was he trying to be funny? “Um, nooo ... I’m sure you have many talents, Mr Firefighter-Slash-Medic.”

Um, what was that? You dork.

Seemingly enjoying just how dorky she was, she watched, fascinated, as his lips quirked up to one side. “Do I have your permission to give you a once over?”

You can give me a once over anytime.

Libby had to physically shake away her thoughts this time. “Oh. Um, yeah, sure. I’m fine, though. I didn’t hurt myself or anything. Can you not call me ma’am? It makes me feel really old and I’m having a bad enough day as it is.”

A full-blown smile was now lighting up his features, the sight almost turning her into a puddle of goo right there on the street.

Good lord, who the hell was this man? He was like a real-life fantasy. It just figured she would come face to face with him while she was looking like an extra from The Walking Dead.

Fuck my life.

“What should I call you?”

“Oh, um, Libby. That’s my name.”

That’s my name? Seriously?

“Okay, Libby. I’m just gonna go grab a few things. I’ll be back in a sec to check you over.”

Before she knew it, he was back. He offered her a foil blanket and checked her vitals, despite her insistence she was fine. Libby really did feel alright. Other than his touch waking up her once-comatose girly parts. But in all fairness, it had been a really, really long time since they’d seen any action. And even then, none of those guys looked like this guy.

It also didn’t help he’d now taken off his helmet, revealing a messy mop of dirty blonde hair. Those baby blues and dimples paired with a five o’ clock shadow were a lethal combination. And don’t even get her started on that body of his.

“My name’s Zach, by the way. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier.”

Meeting his eyes once again, Libby managed a small smile, which he immediately returned. “Nice to meet you, Zach.”

“You’re new in town, right?”

“Uh, yeah. How did you—”

She was cut off by another hulking man in uniform who stepped beside them. He didn’t bother to crouch down like Zach. “You okay, ma’am? Neighbor reported he heard screaming.”

Oh shit.

“Oh, yeah. There was screaming. I mean, yes, I did scream. But it was more like a release, y’know? Like, when you’re having a really shitty day and you scream into a pillow. It was kinda like that.” For the love of God, stop talking. “Anyway, yeah, I’m fine. All good. Hunky-dory.”

Hunky-dory? Really? And screaming into pillows? Way to embarrass yourself in front of the handsome firefighters. Are your Disney pajamas not enough humiliation for you? Do you want to detail your hair removal regime next?

Luckily, the other man decided not to comment. He simply nodded, for which Libby was grateful. Once he’d given Zach a quick update on the cause of the fire – that blasted toaster – he disappeared and left the two of them alone again.

Turns out, just the mention of the toaster was enough to bring back her rage.

“Did you know toasters just sometimes set on fire? When exactly did that become a thing? And why aren’t there more people talking about it?”

Zach incorrectly thought that clearing his throat would be enough to mask his snigger. “Uh, well, any old appliances can be a potential fire hazard. With toasters, a build-up of breadcrumbs can also act as fuel to the fire.”

“What the hell? I didn’t know that, Zach. Why didn’t I know that? Is this some big firefighter secret or something? ‘Cause I’m telling you right now, people need to know this! I’m thirty-one, Zach. Thirty-one! And never in my life would I have thought I could be making toast one day and then ... boom! Fire! People need to be told. They need to know, damnit!”

Okay, it was safe to say this was not her finest moment. She was well aware ranting about toaster fires while sitting on the curb – in just her miniscule, bright pink shorts and vest top – was giving off batshit crazy vibes. But she clearly just couldn’t help herself. Once she got a look at his expression, the crazy continued.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“No, ma’am.”

“You are ... you’re laughing at me!”

“Smiling. I’m smiling at you. There’s a big difference.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you pretending to clear your throat earlier. You’re laughing at me! I can’t believe you’re laughing at me. Here I am, trying to have a serious conversation about toaster fire safety and the big bad firefighter is laughing at me. Like I’m a freaking clown!”

Finally giving in to temptation, Zach threw his head back and laughed. Without any shame.

How rude.

Once he’d composed himself, he took one look at the daggers Libby was shooting him with her eyes and threw his palms up defensively. “Sorry, sorry. I know I shouldn’t laugh.” It’s important to note that he was definitely still laughing. “It’s not very professional of me. But ... I’ve never seen anyone get so upset over a toaster before. So much so that your cheeks are all red, and you do this thing with your nose – scrunching it up in this cute way that makes you look like one of the Disney princesses on your pajamas. It’s all just a mixture of hilarious and cute. I can’t help but laugh.”

Well, now she really didn’t know what to say. That was pretty honest. More honest than she was expecting. Did he just call her cute? She’d never really been described as cute before. Not that she liked it. Not from this man, anyway. She would have preferred sexy. Or attractive. Beautiful would have been a stretch. But cute? No. She was not a house pet or a small child. So, cute wasn’t all that flattering.

“What’s got you thinking so hard, darlin’?”

Her eyebrow shot up again. It was really getting a workout today. “It’s darlin’ now?”

He was grinning from ear to ear, flashing those damn dimples at her. “Yep.”

“I was thinking about how no woman ever wants to be called cute.”

“Is that so? And what about being compared to a Disney princess?”

She simply shrugged. “I’m not sure nose scrunching counts.”

“What about if I said it wasn’t just your nose?” She felt the heat from his stare seep into her skin. What on earth was happening? “That it was the shape of those green eyes that sparkle when they catch the sun. Your long, brown hair that looks like it’s made of silk and those pink lips that part into a pout every time your mind wanders.” His eyes made her feel as if they were penetrating her now, pinning her in place. “I could go on, but I wouldn’t want to make you blush even harder than you already are.”

Well, shit.

“Are you hitting on me? Are you allowed to hit on me?” She looked around as if at any moment someone was going to come along and give him a good telling off.

“No, I’m not hitting on you. Just backing up my compliment with some facts. I’m not quite sure if it’s allowed. I don’t usually hit on women during a shift.”

That last sentence made her snort. A very unbecoming snort. Not at all Disney princess like.

He continued talking before she had a chance to reply. “Everything looks good here. And it looks like we’re packing up.” He’d changed the subject so quickly she was tempted to ask him to check her for whiplash. “My colleague Hunter will be over in a minute with some paperwork. Once that’s done, you’ll be free to go back inside.”

It was like he’d just flipped a switch. Back to business. No more flirting. No more lip twitches. And where had those dimples gone?

“Okay, thanks.” She nodded. There wasn’t much else to say.

And just like that, the dimples were back, as he rose to his full height. “Anytime, princess.”

With that odd goodbye, he was gone.

***

It had been three wholedays since the fire and thankfully no other kitchen appliances had blown up on her. Not that she’d used many of them since the fire. She’d chosen takeout over cooking for the past few nights. For safety reasons, obviously.

But it was kind of sad that after being in town almost a week, she’d only had contact with the food delivery man and a couple of firefighters.

Well, today, that was going to change. She was going to buy actual food. To cook and everything. She’d also decided to replace the toaster. She didn’t want to – there was no way she’d be able to trust one ever again – but she missed her morning toast. So, she was going to bite the bullet and buy a new one. But she’d be keeping a beady eye on it.

After driving around Woodvalley Pines for a while, Libby finally came across a grocery store. It was no Walmart, but it would have to do.

Eyes were on her from the moment her shopping cart hit the aisles.

Got to love a small town.

Mentally congratulating herself for putting on makeup, she was also pretty pleased she’d thrown on one of her nicer flowery sundresses. She was no model by any means but at least she felt confident enough to handle the whispers.

Let them look.

With her head held high, she marched herself over to the small homeware section located in the far corner of the store.

When she got there, though, she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed with their measly selection. There were only two types of toasters. Two? And from what she could tell, the only difference between them was that one was silver and the other white.

She stared at the boxes on the shelf for a long time, as if more choices were going to magically appear any minute.

“Let me guess ... you’re trying to decide which one is less flammable?” a deep voice rumbled next to her.

Libby turned her head so quickly, her hair managed to whip her face. Goddamnit. Pulling hair out of her mouth was not how she’d imagined her next encounter with Zach.

“Uh, hi.” Tucking her hair safely behind her ear, she tried her best at a smile. “I guess you could say I’m having trust issues.”

He flashed her a sexy lopsided grin that was making it really hard to concentrate. “You want my professional opinion?”

“Please.”

“Neither.”

“Neither?” But what about her morning toast? She could feel her brows pull together as she thought about driving further out to find a Walmart.

He simply shrugged. “They’re cheap and not the best quality. I have an extra one at home you can have. I’ll bring it by later.”

What?

“Um. First of all, who has spare toasters? I know for a fact this time – that isn’t a thing. Secondly, why the hell would you do that? You don’t even know me. For all you know, I could be one of those psycho women from that Women Who Kill show.”

Just like that, he was back to laughing at her. Perfect. “No offense, but I’m not sure many psycho killers have a penchant for matching pink Disney pajamas.”

“Or do they?” she teased, surprising even herself.

At least he was laughing with her instead of at her this time. And what a laugh. Like a deep, sexy symphony. When he finally stopped, his blinding smile remained in place and he was aiming it directly at her.

Sweet baby Jesus.

“The spare toaster was a housewarming gift. I’m fairly certain you’re not a killer. And ... I want to. Think of it as a welcome to Woodvalley gift.”

He’s not hitting on me. He’s just being friendly.

Her body didn’t seem to care what her head was saying. It had gone rogue. Things were tingling that shouldn’t be tingling and she was pretty sure a pink flush was creeping up her neck.

“Okay.” Who was she to turn down a free toaster? Especially one approved by a professional.

“Okay? Just like that?” She watched his eyes narrow on her.

“Why are you so surprised? You trying to give me a complex?”

A throaty chuckle escaped his lips. “Goddamnit, woman, you’re something else.”

He stepped toward her, and she instinctively took a step back. It didn’t seem to stop him though. He backed her right up against the toaster shelf, his blue eyes darkening as he inched closer.

“I’m coming over at seven. I’ll bring dinner.” His husky voice sent shivers down her spine.

“I don’t remember inviting you over for dinner.”

“Because you didn’t.”

“So you’re inviting yourself?” Libby’s voice was becoming more and more breathless. She couldn’t think properly when he was this close. Why was he so close?

“Yeah, princess, I am.”

Maybe he was the psycho. Before she could confirm or deny that he was a serial killer, he pushed off the shelf behind her head and turned to leave.

“See you at seven,” he called out to her. He walked away before she had a chance to protest.

What the hell was that?