Page 53 of Faking It with the Firefighter

The paperwork in front of me turned to a jumbled mess, and I stared at nothing, wondering what the hell I was doing.

Fooling around with Abigail wasn’t supposed to happen. It would blow up my oldest and dearest friendship…but how could I stay away from her? How could I see the shape of the walls she’d built around herself and not want to tear them down? How could I get a taste of her and not crave more?

And there was the way she’d softened for me in bed last night. And how touched she’d seemed about a simple breakfast this morning. She’d kissed me goodbye like she was going to miss me this morning.

If there was something real between us…wasn’t it worth exploring?

It was for me.

When I ended my shift after five, I headed over to see Abigail and pulled up outside a roomy cottage on Baker Street. Though the house was nearly empty, there was something welcoming about it. The oak floors were dressed in my favorite stain, the paint on the walls was warm, and the rounded stone surrounding the fireplace went all the way up to the high ceiling. Hmm, not bad for a house that hadn’t sold. It needed some work—the cornices were cracked, and some of the fixtures needed to be replaced, but it wasn’t bad at all.

“Hello!” I heard Abigail’s voice, followed by her heels clacking along the floor.

“Am I too late?”

“Whatare you doing here?” she asked with a big smile—the same one she made earlier when I made her breakfast. The kind of smile that made me want to betray my oldest friendship just for one more glimpse of it.

Though my heart beat hard at the sight of her, I shrugged and glanced around at the floors and window sashes and light fixtures. “Oh, you know. You said this was a great house, and I figured since I’m in the market and I know that agent…”

Her smile turned a little wry. I hadn’t seen that one before, and I discovered I liked it. It was a smile that said we had a little secret, just the two of us. And I didn’t mind the way that felt at all.

“I was just about to close up. But would you like a private tour?”

“I’d love one.”

“Then follow me, Mr. Montgomery.” She waved me along. I’d seen her leave this morning, so I’d seen the beige skirt-and-blazer combo, but Abigail had since removed the blazer to reveal a slightly sheer blouse in a similar shade. Her shoes were a shiny version of the same color, and her ears were adorned with gold. Her hair was down, dark blond and shiny. She looked professional and put-together…and unbelievably sexy.

“I think you’ll find the kitchen to your liking. Lots of countertop space.” Abigail put on her sales act, running her hand across the cool stone counter the way she’d run it over my chest last night.

I forced myself to take my eyes off the woman and look at the room. “How many bedrooms?”

“Three,” she said. “Three roomy bedrooms.”

I nodded. “One for me. One for you. And one for Winston.”

Her eyes glimmered. She took a step toward me and tilted her head. “You want to be roomies or something?”

I shrugged. “So far it seems to be working out pretty well.”

Her smile grew and she continued on, showing me the dining room and screened-in porch. She guided me upstairs to the main bedroom, staged with a king-sized bed. I stood in front of it. “You know, after sleeping on your full, I think you’re right. This is too big.”

She swatted my shoulder, laughing. But I was only half joking. There were definitely advantages to sleeping in a small bed with a beautiful woman.

“Do you know how many smoke alarms it has?” I asked.

“Two downstairs, one upstairs, I believe.”

“Ooh, there should be one in every bedroom,” I said.

She turned around, batted her lashes with that you-know-you-want-this-house look. “If you make a full-price offer right now, I’ll be sure to have the seller get those installed before closing.”

I wandered to the en-suite bathroom and looked at the slightly outdated stone vanity with two beige sinks. Easily replaced.

Abigail followed me, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. “What’s the real reason you’re here, Rex?”

“You don’t think I’m serious about the house?”

“I’m not sure what you’re serious about,” she replied. The setting sun streamed in from a big window over the bath, gilding the planes of her face and glinting on her earrings and necklace.

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