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She elbowed me in the arm.
“I have washed more fire trucks than I care to count,” I said.
“Shirtless?” One side of her mouth quirked up.
“You like thinking about that?”
She’d fired a cannon at me when I’d walked through the door, and in typical Beau fashion, she’d made me forget everything else but her . . . and made me smile in the process.
“Not feeding your already large ego.” She lifted her chin.
“Do you think I have a big ego?”
“No, but it was better than admitting I plotted out an entire calendar shoot of you shirtless washing fire trucks. And dogs. That would sell like hot cakes.” She let out a low whistle.
Brutus looked back as if unsure what he was supposed to do.
“Ain’t happening.”
Copper bolted toward a squirrel, dragging me along with her. Brutus joined in the chase. They barked at the base of a tree while the squirrel taunted them from a high branch.
I squatted between them and tried to settle them. “You got him.”
They finally stopped barking.
When I stood, Beau had a look in her eyes that nearly sent me to my knees. She wasn’t hiding anymore. I should’ve known that the minute she rocketed at me earlier.
I’d seen that look before. The first time I’d taken her to the fire station roof. And every time after that.
Now it was more intense. Because there was more between us. Things that had fused us together whether we meant for them to or not.
“We should keep going.” I flicked my chin toward the squirrel. “Before he decides to pelt me with acorns.”
“Acorns?” She shook her head. “You’re nuts.” Then she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her laugh. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
Which made it all the funnier.
Damn, she was beautiful when she smiled. When she wasn’t hiding her heart from me.
“You’ve never had a squirrel throw acorns at you?” I asked as if she were the crazy one.
“No. And you haven’t either.”
I held up one hand. “I swear on Engine 42. Richman Park. The little suckers pelt people with them.”
“You’re lying.”
“You don’t believe me?” I moved ahead. “Fair warning. Bring a hard hat. Maybe some goggles.”
Her laughter was the best sound I’d ever heard. “I’m looking forward to proving you’re making this up.”
“Suit yourself.” I shrugged. “And when I’m not, I get the last piece of Ma’s Italian cake on Sunday.”
My steps faltered. I’d just talked about family plans like it was a given she’d go. Like we’d been going to dinner at Ma’s for years.
“How do you know she’s baking Italian cake?”
I grinned. “I asked her to.”
