Page 12 of Raging Inferno

That may not be a big deal to you but, I’ve never allowed myself to appreciate any part of another man in years. It doesn’t end with his smile though and I find myself in awe of the colorful ink that trails up his muscular arms.

Chris didn’t have any tattoos.

In fact, I don’t think he cared very much for them. Me, on the other hand, always loved them and have four of my own. Until Chris, tattoos were always something I admired on a man and as I continue to gawk at my student’s father I can’t help but wish for a closer look. I’m also curious as to where else they may be on his body.

Shit, where did that come from?

“What the hell are you staring at?” my sister questions, twisting in her seat. Snapping out of my trance, I open my mouth to object but it’s too late. Jimmy raises his hand and gives the both of us a wave.

“Holy shit who’s the silver fox?” she asks adding a low approving whistle for emphasis.

“Turn around,” I order through gritted teeth as I give a curt wave back to Jimmy. “Amber! Please,” I hiss, feeling my cheeks flush. “He is the parent of one of my students,” I explain quickly, reaching for the refilled margarita glass in front of me. Amused, Amber lifts an eyebrow and smirks knowingly at me.

“His daughter got into trouble this week and he and his ex-wife had a blowout in front of me. It was awkward as all hell.”

“He’s divorced,” she says, glancing back at Jimmy. “How convenient.”

“Amber.”

“Tell me more,” she demands, turning back to me. “What else do we know about muscle man?”

“Muscleman?”

“Look at his fucking arms.”

I have.

They’re huge.

“He’s a firefighter,” I blurt. “He showed up to the meeting in his gear and when it was time to leave, he put his daughter on the firetruck with him and the guys.”

I have no idea why all that just came out of my mouth and before I divulge anything else—like how good he looked in his bunker gear, I smack my lips together.

“Shut the fuck up!”

To say my sister has a thing for firemen would be an understatement.

Amber slams her palms against the table and tension rolls off me as I watch her release an exasperated sigh.

“We know I love a man in uniform.”

“You love anything with a penis,” I argue.

“This is true,” she agrees with a nod before waving a hand dismissively. “Forget about me though. This is fucking perfect!”

“Excuse me?” I regret the question as soon as it slips past my lips and I watch her push away the empty glass. Folding her hands on top of the table, she steals another long look at Jimmy and grins mischievously.

“It’s time for you to get back on the horse and I can’t think of anyone better suited for your first ride,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows.

Shaking my head, I dismiss the thoughts creeping into my mind. The alcohol starts to hit me and I grab a stack of napkins from the table. Fanning myself, I lean forward and look my sister dead in the eyes.

“Absolutely not,” I protest.

“Why not? He keeps looking this way.”

“He’s looking over here because you’re making a scene.”

“What’s his name?” she questions ignoring me

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