Page 62 of Burn

I smirk, winking at her. “That makes two of us, honey.”

Immediately she steps away from me, like she didn’t like what I just said and suddenly she’s formal, her posture straightening when a man in a black suit walks by us.

Mila motions us forward. “I’ll show you around, gentlemen.”

Gentlemen? Where’d that come from?

The entire hour we’re there, Mila doesn’t talk to me again, even when I try to get her alone at one point. She ignores me, as if I wasn’t even there.

Not a single fucking glance my direction or even a goodbye.

Backflow Preventer

Automatic valve used in hose accessories to ensure water flows only in one direction. Used in permanent fire department connections (FDC) to sprinklers and dry standpipes, as well as portable devices used in firefighting.

So I’m a fucking idiot. Who reacts that way?

Me.

I do.

I did.

I have some explaining to do. I shouldn’t have treated him that way, and I know it. I checked out the signatures on the inspection report before I left the hotel and found out the station he worked at. Station 25 on Pine Street.

I head straight there after work, and to my surprise, he’s inside and the doors are open in the garage where the fire trucks are.

He’s standing leaned against the side of a truck, his arms crossed over his chest and sexy as a fucking sin. “You again?”

I release a pained laugh, feeling like an idiot coming here and step toward him. “So you’re really a firefighter?”

Dumb. So stupid.

He laughs and looks at me like he can’t believe I asked that. I can’t believe I asked it. “I told you that night I was,” he mumbles, burying his hands in the pockets of his navy blue slacks. “It wasn’t just a ploy to get in bed, you know.”

“Yes, I know that.” I glance up at him keeping my chin tucked in, nervously chewing on the corner of my lip. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

This time he laughs like I’m funny. “For what?”

I drop my shoulders forward, my voice lowering even more. The frigid air causes me to wrap my arms around my waist, hoping it provides me with some comfort from the cold. “For the way I acted back at the hotel earlier. For being mean to you. I shouldn’t have acted that way. I swear I’m not that kind of girl.”

He makes a humming sound and steps forward, leaning into me as he asks, “What kind of girl are you?”

I don’t even know how to answer that. What kind of girl am I?

I’m certainly not the one to snub him in front of everyone, but again, I am that girl for some reason.

And then he’s smiling, and it’s adorable, and I totally understand why I wanted to call 911 so many times the other night. “Don’t smile at me like that.”

The smile slowly disappears from his face and he drops his gaze to the ground. For a moment, they stay there and then he raises them to meet mine again, confusion strewn across his face. “You don’t want me smiling at you?”

“No, I don’t,” I say. “I don’t want you to smile at me like that because the last time you did, I took you home, or you took me home, and I don’t want to flirt with you, or take you home. I’m hungry. So I want you to stop smiling like that and take me to dinner.”

He slowly inhales, staring down at me. “So you want me to take you to dinner and then take you home?”

Of course he throws the last part in there.

I return his heated stare. “Yes, that’s what I want.”

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