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“Hi, ma’am.” He lifts his arms to the front when a familiar voice booms through the hall.

Carson.

“Alexis? Everything okay?” His eyes scan my body, searching for any sign of distress. I nod, grinning.

“I made you cookies.”

“Cookies?” He glances at the plate I’m holding. “For me?”

“Well, I guess for all of you.” I nod toward the man who opened the door for me, who is watching us, with raised eyebrows.

Carson steps aside, grabs the plate of cookies, and ushers me inside.

It’s exactly as I pictured: a kitchen with a big communal table, where several men are sitting, playing some card game.

To my left is the garage containing the fire trucks I saw outside. “Hey Alexis!” Killian yells from the far side of the table.

I haven’t spoken with him since the night Carson was drunk, but I know he has apologized to Carson, and they’re working on rebuilding their friendship, and that’s enough for me. He looks at me with uncertainty as if he’s scared I’m going to yell at him again. “Hi, Killian.” A hand on my back pushes me towards the large table. Carson holds the warm plate filled with cookies in one hand. The other is on my lower back, his fingers splayed as he motions for me to sit. Curious glances fill the room. The cards the men were playing with lay abandoned on the table. I sit on the empty seat next to Killian, my chair several inches from the table. I want to pull it up, but Carson takes the matter into his own hands. He drops the plate on the table. Steps behind me and gently pushes the chair toward the table so I’m in reach of the cookies.

Killian reaches out to grab a cookie, but before he can, Carson slaps his hand away and gives his best friend a glance I can’t decipher. It’s the same look he gave him at the baseball game when Killian’s arm was touching the back of my chair.

Killian holds up his hands in defense, grinning cheekily. Carson sits beside me, his arm brushing mine, just like this morning. A sensation fills my stomach: the butterflies again. I’m not planning on telling Carson about my conversation with Ash, not yet, not when he’s working, but I must be down bad if I get butterflies from just touching his arm. “This is Alexis. If you won’t behave, you will not get a cookie…Clear?” All the men surrounding the table nod. Some look smug, while others are as confused as I am.

“Are you withholding cookies from them?”

Carson grins, nodding to the plate. “You first.” I glance down at the plate, then at the men who are patiently waiting for their turn. That’s why Killian couldn’t grab one— because it was my turn first?

I reach out and grab the one that has the least chocolate. I’ve already had a few at home. They deserve the others.

Carson smiles the moment I have the cookie. He doesn’t grab one for himself. Instead, he stares at me, eyes focused on mine. I hold the cookie out for him. “Want a bite?” I say, with my mouth full. He lowers his head, his gaze flicking from my eyes to my mouth. Then takes a bite from the exact spot I had just bitten. He smirks, chewing and licking his lips.

“Delicious.”

I almost choke on a piece of chocolate.

Holy shit.

He leans back in his chair, the smug smirk still plastered on his face. I tell myself he’s talking about the cookie, but deep down I know that’s not what he meant.

“So, Alexis,” one of Carson’s colleagues, a man named Ryan, says. He is a Probie here.

I have no idea what that means, but that’s what Carson told me when he introduced everyone. His face screams trouble. He has a gleam in his eyes as if he’s planning on doing something risky. I look up from the magazine I was reading, my legs splayed in front of me on the couch.

“There is a party tonight…” Ryan glances over his shoulder where Carson is standing, talking with their Captain.

Carson turns his head slightly, signaling that he’s hearing our conversation. His body freezes, movements growing stiff. Ryan smirks, his underarms leaning on his knees.

“I was wondering if you wanted to—” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence. Carson interrupts, blocking my view, his fingers clenched tightly in fists. “Don’t you have things to do, Probie?”

Ryan stands up quickly, giving Killian a glance before walking away.

“You okay, big guy?” I ask, my lips tilted up in a smile. He sits down next to me.

Was he jealous? It would make perfect sense. The look he gave Killian at the baseball game, when he had his arm around my chair, is a replica of the stare he just gave Ryan. It would also explain why he wouldn’t let Killian borrow his jacket. Holy shit, he is jealous. Fuck that’s hot.

He blows out a breath. His arm leans on the back of the couch right behind my back. He swivels his head, his eyes zooming in on my lips, then my eyes. He smirks when I notice his gaze, and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. Then says, his voice low, filled with underlying heat.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me, Sunshine.”