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He was frowning again, but he at least offered an unenthusiastic “Sure,” as she turned to open the library door.
“Thank you, Jake.”
His hand appeared above hers to pull the door open, and there was no mistaking the scent of his clean sweat as the air moved around both of them. It hit her hard, drawing something tight deep in her belly, and Lauren considered it a triumph that she didn’t turn and lick him before moving inside. He smelled the way a man should smell when he was in your bed and working hard for it.
The door finally whooshed shut behind her, and she breathed a sigh of relief that all she could smell now were paper and Windex.
Her thirties had been a fairly dry decade, what with her failing marriage and then her divorce. But her forties? God. Her body clearly wanted her to get busy humping any man who caught her eye before all her eggs dried up. What her body didn’t seem to understand was that there were plenty of healthy-egged young twentysomethings who were attracted to men like Jake Davis, too. She couldn’t compete with them. But honestly, she wouldn’t mind a few hopeless tries.
Why had it taken her four decades to realize how beautiful the male body was? And how very much she wanted more of it? She’d never once thought about tasting a sweaty male chest in her twenties. Now she wanted to lick Jake Davis clean.
Sneering at her own absurd thoughts, she headed for the privacy of the tiny office to the side of the circulation desk. “I talked to Jake,” she said, collapsing into the chair next to her best friend Sophie.
Sophie looked up from her computer. “Oh, you talked to Jake, huh?”
“He said he’d have a word with the guys.”
“Yeah? Did he also say, ‘Oh, Lauren, it’s so hot I can’t wear a shirt when I run. I hope that’s okay with you’?”
Lauren’s face felt as if it burst into flames. “What?”
“I saw him when I was driving back from lunch. That is one hot fire captain.”
“I didn’t notice!” Lauren hissed, ducking her head and opening her own laptop.
“Liar! Oh, my God, you’re beet red.”
“Shut up. I mean it. Having those stupid firefighters right next door is a damn work hazard.”
Sophie shrugged. “They have their uses.”
Lauren tried to shove her curiosity down and keep her mouth shut. She and Sophie had been friends for two years, but despite their frequent joking, Sophie rarely divulged concrete details about her own love life.
This time Lauren was going to nail her down. “Exactly
how many firefighters have you used?” Sophie was the picture of modesty, always wearing knee-length skirts and button-up shirts with her sensible heels. But she wasn’t as innocent as she looked. Once you got a drink in her, she could dish about blow-job techniques with the best of them.
Sophie shot her a wicked grin, but she didn’t answer.
Lauren crossed her arms and refused to let the girl off the hook this time. “Spill it, chick. How many firefighters?”
“Only one.”
“Jake?” Lauren asked, a stone dropping into her stomach from thin air. She didn’t want to picture him with her cute friend. She couldn’t deal with that.
But Sophie laughed. “No, not Jake! A guy who doesn’t work there anymore, thank God. The fire station is a little too close to home for me. In a town this size...”
Lauren nodded in understanding and tried not to let out the sigh of relief pushing at her throat. It hadn’t been Jake.
Sophie poked her arm. “But you need to ask him out.”
“Who?” Lauren asked, her heart already speeding up to belie the question.
“Jake.”
“You just said it was too close to home. And it is! If he said no, I’d have to see him every day. And if he said yes, even worse.”
“Lauren, ask him out. Good God, you two have been pretending not to eye each other for at least a year.”
