Page 25 of Pack Coffey

As we make our way there, I finally see what it's about. A huge shirtless guy is on the floor doing pushups next to a woman. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and for a second, I think it's the chick from the bar. As soon as her head lifts to lock eyes with me, I know it's not her. This is the prettiest woman I think I've ever seen in my life. Her face is perfectly symmetrical with big, blue eyes to go right along with that long, blonde hair. Let's not even mention the fact that she's stacked for days. A big chest, round butt, and is competing against Mr. Muscles for who can do the most pushups.

The rest of the men standing around are either cheering or counting loudly. The atmosphere is intoxicating, making me want to join in with them. Keaton takes my hand and tucks itinto his side. I'm peering up at him when there's loud cheering and groans as a heavy thud hits the floor. Mr. Muscles has collapsed, leaving blondie the winner.

She pushes herself up, not looking the slight bit exhausted and taps muscles on the shoulder. "Better luck next time."

He slaps the floor as she chuckles and saunters over toward us, bringing with her the strong alpha scent of cedarwood. Holding out a hand to me, she introduces herself, "I'm Aurelia, pretty thing. Who are you?"

Banks smacks her hand down gently and steps slightly in front of me, "This is Darci. She's with us. No touching."

I'm still reeling over the fact that this drop-dead gorgeous woman calledmepretty when she smiles, and I swear, I hear angels sing.

"Chill, Watson," she says. "You and Johns bring an unmated omega in here and expect someone not to notice this gorgeous creature."

She doesn't bother even looking at him as she talks, speaking directly to me, adding, "If you ever get tired of the testosterone overdrive, you know where to find me."

Bank's chest puffs out like a rooster and moves like he's going to follow her. Keaton grabs his arms, so I do the same. He glances down at it, and shakes his head like he's trying to chase away whatever negative thoughts he's feeling. Taking the hand on his arm, he leads us upstairs to show me around. There's a small kitchen where they sometimes cook dinner. And an actual real life fireman pole that they, unfortunately, refuse to let me slide down. I try not to pout about it too much, knowing good and well with as clumsy as I am that I'd probably hurt myself for even thinking about trying it.

Then we go back downstairs where it seems the ten or so guys that were down here have dispersed, going I have noclue where. The two of them stop by an office with an older gentleman inside, leaving me to sit on the bench right outside with strict instructions not to move or let anyone touch me. When they come back out five minutes or so later, I'm still where they left me, having not broken the rules since I haven't even seen anyone.

The man behind the desk steps out behind them. "So, Ms. Levine, I hear my boys are courting you."

"Yessir," I confess, standing to face him.

He nods. "About time Pack Coffey finally thinks about settling down. You let me know if these boys give you any trouble."

"Yessir," I say again, sounding like I'm on repeat.

He smiles behind his thick mustache before walking back into his office.

I let out a whoosh of air. "I felt like I was in trouble or something."

They laugh as Banks throws an arm around my shoulders and Keaton says, "Yeah, that's just the way the chief has about him."

Teasing, I pull the pits of my shirts away from my body and waft them a couple times. "I feel like I'm sweating now."

Laughing again, they lead me over to one of the big, red trucks parked in the bay. Keaton opens the driver's side door and motions me inside, "Up you go."

My eyes go wide. "Aren't there rules about civilians inside the vehicles?"

He shrugs like he doesn't care as Banks sticks his head over my shoulder. "Don't you ride in Saint's car?"

Turning my chin to grin at him, I answer, "Yeah, but I'm a consultant for the department. You going to let me go out and fight fires with you?"

His expression turns sour instantly. "No. It's toodangerous. Come to think of it, you shouldn't even be working with Saint."

"Stop that," I tell him. "I'll get in the truck. Don't turn grumpy."

Keaton is not even trying to hide his laugh as he helps me up in the driver's seat. I look around at all of the equipment and buttons in complete awe. There's no way I'd remember what all of this does. I glance back out at them. "What do you think? Would I make a good firewoman?"

Keaton grins, knowing I'm teasing Banks again. Who, of course, gets his panties in a twist. "Okay, come on, get down."

He holds out his arms to me like I'm a child, and I let him pull me out. As soon as my toes touch the floor, his lips are on mine. When I'm finally able to come up for air, I'm lightheaded and might need to be saved after all.

"Tease me again, baby," he warns. "I'm the master at it."

Considering he just kissed me into oblivion, I'm going to vote that he's right...for now. I'm sure I can find a way to get him back for it later. However, now that he's got my heart racing, all I seem to be able to think about is the way that the two of them look in their navy-blue cargo pants and black boots. Both with navy t-shirts on that strain dangerously at the biceps. One light hero and one dark, which is ironic, considering their personalities are opposite their appearances.

I clear my throat quietly. "So, how does one train to become a firefighter? Is there a school or training facility?"

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