Page 11 of The Firefighter's Angel
“Good girl,” I murmur, smoothing her rumpled shirt down over her stomach.
She looks up at me through her lashes, lips parted, cheeks a deep rosy red. And damn if it doesn’t make something primal pulse hot through my veins again.
Nine years. I’ve got nine years on her. I shouldn’t want her like this. Shouldn’t feel like…like she’s mine. Shouldn’t feel like I’d kill anyone who so much as looks at her wrong.
But I do. God help me, I do.
I don’t give a damn how little sense it makes. I want her. I’ll have her. And the way she’s looking at me right now, the way her fingers are clutching the hem of her shirt… yeah. She wants me too. Even if she doesn’t fully understand it yet.
It makes me dangerously happy.
When I’m satisfied she’s dressed, at least as much as I can stand her being dressed, I lean in, cupping her face and gently brushing my lips over hers.
Her stomach rumbles loudly, interrupting the moment, and she jerks back with an adorable gasp, both hands flying to her belly. “Oh my God.” Her face turns crimson. “I’m…I’m so sorry.”
I choke on a laugh, dropping my head against her shoulder. “Jesus, darlin’.” I’m grinning like a fool as I pull back. “That was the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. Are you hungry?”
She groans and buries her face in her hands. “No. Absolutely not. I am not hungry.”
“Liar,” I chuckle, sliding my thumb over her bottom lip. “Lucky for you, I know exactly what you need.”
I carry her back to the passenger seat, and then press a kiss to her temple before stepping away. My hands already feel too empty without her, but I force myself to round the front of the truck and climb in.
Reaching behind the seat, I grab the lunch bag I shoved back there earlier—a half-wrapped sandwich, some beef jerky, and some snacks I had lying around the cabin.
I pass the bag over to her. “Here. Eat.”
She hesitates, nibbling her lip. “Are you sure? I mean…it’s your lunch.”
I level her a look. “You think I’m gonna sit here and let my girl go hungry?”
My girl.
Yeah. That came out without thinking. But I don’t take it back.
Her fingers tremble a little as she opens the bag, but the second her eyes land on the bright red pack of Twizzlers…her whole face lights up like it’s Christmas morning.
“Oh my God…you have Twizzlers?”
Her voice goes all squeaky with excitement, and she grabs the pack like it’s made of gold.
“I love these! Like,love-love. I used to get them every Saturday when my dad and I went to the movies. He always teased me because I’d pick Twizzlers over popcorn every single time.” She’s rambling now, tearing the plastic open with nimble fingers, eyes shining. “Everyone’s always like ‘Red Vines are better’ but they’re wrong. Twizzlers are elite. Peak cinema snack—”
I stare. I can’t even help it.
Her whole face is glowing with this bright, open joy, her legs swinging from the seat, her curls bouncing every time she tips her head, grinning at the candy like it’s the best thing in the universe.
And something inside me cracks wide open.
It’s not just lust anymore. Not just possessiveness.
It’s something bigger.
Something warmer. Deeper. Fiercer.
God, look at her. So pure. So untouched…
Mine.
