Page 43 of Hearts Storm

“So,” I begin, shoving my hands in my pockets because if I don’t, I’m going to reach for her. “Lakeside Fire, huh?”

“Apparently.” She turns back to the window, but I catch the way her shoulders tense. “Small world.”

“Small town,” I correct. “How long have you been here?”

She glances over her shoulder, expression guarded. “A little over a month.”

I nod, even though her back is to me. “Hmmm. Makes sense why I haven’t seen you.”

Reyna spins around. “I saw you.”

Surprise flares in my gut. “When?”

A sheepish look crosses her face. “At Summit Studio. You came in to talk to Sasha. I’d only been here for a few days and had just started working there.”

Shit. I remember that day. It’s the same day I went to check out the equipment and ask about the firefighter discount. I frown, mind spinning as I think back, trying to remember if I saw her. But I come up blank.

“I don’t remember seeing you.”

Her laugh is soft. “I hid behind the counter.”

“Seriously? Why would you do that?”

“Because…” she says, huffing out a sigh as she moves to sit on the edge of her bed. Great. Now all I can think about is crushing her into the mattress as I kiss her senseless. “…I freaked out. You were the last person I expected to see.”

twenty

The look on Brex’s face morphs from one of surprise to full on bravado.

“Do I make you nervous, Pretty?”

“Something like that,” I mutter, unable to stop a smile from tugging at my lips.

He grins and the next thing I know he’s sitting next to me on the bed.

Brex’s eyes darken as they drop to my mouth, and the air between us shifts. Suddenly, my small room feels even smaller, walls closing in as tension crackles around us.

“So,” he says, voice dropping to that low, dangerous rumble that makes my insides quiver. “Looks like we’re gonna be working together.”

“Looks like it.” I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. “And Logan is our boss.”

Heat flashes in his eyes as he leans in just a little. “Yup.”

The sultry look in his eyes laces with hurt when I flinch away.

Quickly masking it with a casual grin, he slaps his hands on his thighs and abruptly stands. “Speaking of,” he checks his watch. “It’s about time for your orientation.”

My hearts jumps. “Oh. Right.”

“Come on. I’ll walk you over.” Brex extends his hand, and I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. His palm is warm and rough as he gives my hand a quick squeeze before releasing it.

“You don’t have to,” I say, following him out the door. “Dave already gave me the tour.”

“It’s cool. I want to.”

We walk side by side. Every few seconds, I catch him glancing at me from the corner of my eye, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

The conference room is at the end of the hall, just past the kitchen. A long wooden table takes up most of the space, surrounded by a dozen chairs, with a whiteboard covering one wall and a projector hanging from the ceiling.