Page 134 of Rising Heat

“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.