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“What is that? Are you okay?”
“I have to go.”
“No, wait–” I hang up on him and hurry into the kitchen.
“SHIT!” I yell, running over to the oven. I was so distracted by Kyle that I forgot about the cakes and didn’t hear the timer while out in the café.
I turn the oven off and open it, fanning the smoke away with a tray. But it’s useless. One of the silicon mold trays tipped over somehow and dripped all over the oven’s coils. And as it baked, it burned, and that’s why there’s so much smoke.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
Fucking Kyle.
This is his damn fault!
I can’t stop coughing, and every lungful of air I take in is tainted with burnt smoke, forcing me to run back out to the front.
I prop the kitchen and front doors open to start airing the place out, and that’s when I hear it – the siren of a fire truck coming straight down Main Street.
No!
Now everyone will think I’m incompetent and Courtney probably won’t trust me to stay after hours again.
Slumping down in a chair by the door, I hang my face in my hands.
“El!” I hear being called. “Ellie!” Running through the open doorway clad head to toe in full-out firefighter gear is Tyler, and I’m momentarily grateful for my stupidity.
Even with his face covered in a mask, I still know it’s him. I would know those piercing blue eyes anywhere.
Seeing him like this, all hot and ready to save me, is making my body react in averyintense way. Like, ready-to-strip-and-throw-down-right-now, kind of way. The smoky café and other firemen be damned.
He places a gloved hand under my chin as two other firefighters run past and through into the kitchen.
“Get up, let’s go outside,” he urges, pulling me to my feet and escorting me out onto the sidewalk. Taking off his helmet, mask, and gloves, he looks down at me with pinched eyebrows. “Are you okay? What happened?” he asks, his voice filled with worry.
“There’s no fire,” I tell him, looking back through the large front window. “I just got distracted by…” A few tears leak out the corners of my eyes and stream down my face.
“By what? Tell me, sugar.”
“Nothing. It’s nothing,” I say, swiping at my cheeks. “Just…” I pause, looking up into his glowing aqua eyes, giving me strength. “Kyle called me.”
“Fucking prick,” he mutters.
“Everything’s clear in there,” one of the firemen tells Tyler, patting him on the shoulder. Looking down at me, he gives me a half-smile and adjusts his head gear under his arm, sticking his hand out. But I just stare at his dirty fireproof glove. “Oh, sorry.” He laughs, taking it off and then giving me his hand again. “I’m Everett.”
“Ellie. Sorry for this,” I say, looking around at the fuss. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“It’s okay,” Tyler assures me. He gives Everett a look, and he drops my hand instantly.
“Ellie!” Courtney yells from down the block, running towards me.
“Shit,” I say under my breath, ducking my head. “She’s going to hate me now.”
“No, she won’t,” he assures me. “You didn’t burn the place down.” Smirking, he rubs his jaw.
Oh, sweet lord of mercy, he looks so fucking good right now. I wish I could take a picture of him. I’d make my own sexy fireman calendar of just him in different stages of undress. We’d start January in full gear, and then work our way to nothing by the time December rolled around, with just a bow on his dick, because that masterpiece truly is a gift.
“Ellie, are you okay?” Courtney asks, hugging me. “When the alarm company called, I freaked!”
