Page 6

The fucking wetsuit he was wearing left nothing to the imagination. The hot fireman had quite a hose, and he wasn’t trying to hide it.

“I’m doing great. Call me Thatcher, please, JD. I live about a quarter of a mile down the beach. I was surprised to see Kit in the waves.” Thatcher’s sexy grin had my brain spinning like a top in a tornado.

“Yeah, uh, they live up there”—I pointed to their peach-colored beach house—“and are letting me stay with them while I wait for my next surgery.” I held up my brace.

The fireman gently touched the elastic and fiberglass splint on my wrist and hand. “How much longer do you have to wear this?”

“Another surgery and then two or three months, or so they say, before I can start rehab. It’s been nice to be here with Riv and Kit while I recover, but it’s time for me to leave.

“They’re great guys, and they’re getting married soon. I’m a third wheel in their lives, and I hate it. I’m planning to look for a new place next week after I see my doctor to determine a date for my last surgery.”

Thatcher laughed. “I get it. I’ve lived in a lot of different places, and some felt more like home than others. Where are you thinking about looking for a place?”

I chuckled. “I have no clue. I like the idea of living at the beach, but I’m sure those places are hard to come by right now. I just need to get my head out of my ass and get on with it.”

Thatcher stared at me for a moment. “I’ve got an extra room at my place if you’re interested. My schedule is twenty-four hours on duty and forty-eight off, and I like to be active, so I’m not home that much. I wouldn’t mind having someone who can take care of the place. Look after the front yard and water my plants while I’m at the firehouse.

“Sometimes, I pick up extra shifts to cover for members of my crew. You’ll have the place to yourself a lot of the time. I just want someone to look out for the house.”

“I can look out for your home. I don’t need a lot of space, and I’d love to live at the beach. Kit and River are driving me nuts by screwing like rabbits while I’m not getting any, so I gotta get out of there.”

Yeah, it was killing me to listen to them through their thin walls. It seemed like they were constantly fucking. I wasn’t interested in trying to get laid because I had other things on my list of shit I needed, but I was still grateful to have a place to stay.

Thatcher laughed. “Yeah, I feel you. You should hear the shit that goes on in the firehouse. Some nights, it’s almost like a fucking choir of jerking off. When do you wanna move in?”

I smiled at his joke. “I guess I will as soon as it’s convenient for you.”

Thatcher nodded. “I have the extra bedroom all set up. Can you cook?”

His question made me laugh. “Want nearly burned toast? I’m cool. Anything else? I’m not so great, but I can load the dishwasher and even wash pots. I’m not worthless, I swear.”

Thatcher nodded. “That’ll work. You need me to help you move?”

“No, but thanks. I don’t have much, just clothes and a couple of guitars at their place, but I have a storage unit with some stuff I can get when I find a permanent place to live.”

“Okay. I keep the key under a frog statue on the back porch because I’ve lost several of them while surfing and ended up getting locked out. You wanna walk down the beach with me to take a look? If you like it, we’ll come back, and I’ll help you carry your stuff over, okay?”

“Sure. Let me tell River and Kit what I’m doing. I’ll be right back.”

I rushed over to where Riv and Kit were talking by the shore. “Hey, I’m going to look at Thatcher’s place. He has an extra room he said he’d rent to me, so I’m going to go look at it now. If it’s livable, then I’ll move tonight so I can get out of your hair.”

River smirked. “Yeah, I’d hop on that too.” He waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive way, implying that was Thatcher.

Kit turned to him with a sour expression. “Oh would you, now? Do I need to remind you who you’re marrying?”

River smirked and kissed his cheek. “No, baby, I know exactly who I’m marrying.” Riv then turned to me. “You need help with anything?”

“I’m fine. I’ll stay gone for an hour, so wrap it up before I come back, please. You guys are fucking loud.” They cracked up as I walked away.

Thatcher and I walked down the beach, stopping at a gorgeous ocean-blue bungalow with white trim and two butter-yellow Adirondack chairs on a small wooden back porch facing the beach. He leaned the surfboard against the side of the house before picking up the frog to grab the key.

“Don’t you worry someone might find the key and break in?”

Thatcher chuckled. “Not really. When you go inside, you’ll see why—nothing worth taking and cameras everywhere because one of my neighbors had a squatter and it was hell getting them out of their beach house.”

He then removed the wetsuit and tossed it over the railing that circled the porch, leaving him in red-and-white flowered trunks. The short, tight swimsuit hugged his ass in all the right ways. God, I was getting hot just staring at him, and the weather had nothing to do with it.

He turned on a spigot on the side of the house and rinsed his feet before stepping onto a thick mat and offering me the spray. I quickly mirrored Thatcher’s actions and stepped on the mat he’d vacated before following him inside.