Fire at Twilight: The Firefighters of Darling Bay 1 by Lila Ashe Page A

felt something jolt through her—she was sitting next to Tox. In a fire engine. Her sister was alive, alive, alive , and she would be fine. She looked out at the line of the ocean, where the water met the sky miles away, and the expanse of it, the whitecapped beauty, made her laugh out loud with joy. “Can you turn the siren on?”
    Hank shook his head. “Wish I could, but it’s not allowed unless we’re running a code three call.”
    Tox put his hand to his headphone. “What’s that? Did dispatch just send us to a car fire?”
    Grace hadn’t heard anything in her ears.
    “Hit it, Luke.”
    In the driver’s seat, Luke whooped and the siren matched him. The engine roared as it sped up. If Grace peered carefully around the huge driver’s seat she was hidden behind, she could see cars in front of them, pulling obediently over. She laughed again, and next to her, Tox’s grin looked like it must be hurting his head, he was smiling so hard.
    What if someone pulled out in front of them? What if they scared someone into having a heart attack? What if the engine’s brakes failed?
    Tox grabbed her hand and squeezed it, and Grace’s happiness built again into joy that fizzed right up into her brain.
    Then Luke shut it down. The engine slowed. At the pier, they turned into the parking lot at a decorous speed.
    “That’s weird,” said Tox. “I could have sworn I heard something about a car fire.”
    “Yup,” said Hank.
    “Yup,” said Luke.
    That hadn’t been safe. Or prudent. Anyone could have accidentally pulled out in front of the speeding engine. There could have been a deadly collision. Anyone could have been hurt.
    But there hadn’t been a crash. No one got hurt. It had turned out okay.
    Grace took a breath. “Yup,” she said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
     
    Tox walked Grace to her front door. He should be thinking about how badly the date went. It had almost been—but not quite—the worst case scenario. He should be thinking about making sure Grace felt calm. Secure. Safe.
    Why, then, couldn’t he stop thinking about getting another one of those kisses? Jesus, not since he was sixteen had he been so unable to stop thinking about a woman’s mouth. Grace’s was perfect, and right now it was smiling at him …
    Tox rubbed his neck. “So.”
    “Is that still bothering you?”
    “Nah,” he lied.
    “Come in. I can massage it for you.” She went beet-red the instant the words left her mouth.
    Tox grinned, but didn’t say anything. He followed her in, keeping an eye on the way her rear end looked in those old jeans of hers: compact, round, so incredibly hot.
    Inside, she asked him if he wanted a cup of tea. Tox found the fact that her voice cracked adorable. “No, thanks.”
    “Okay, then,” she said. “Sit there, on the couch.” She pointed to a small red loveseat. “I’ll make some. Hibiscus Rose okay?”
    She’d obviously missed that he’d declined. And hibiscus rose sounded like something his grandmother would have put behind her ears. “Just fine.”
    She went into the kitchen. He could hear her moving around, opening cupboards, turning on the faucet. Putting his hands behind his head to alleviate some of the pressure on his neck, he leaned back and looked around.
    It was just like her in here. If a plane had dropped him anywhere in the world, he would have been able to tell that he was near Grace Rowe. It smelled like her, sweet, with a hint of spice, as if she tucked packets of cinnamon and cloves in the furniture. A faint scent of something earthier, maybe incense. That wouldn’t have surprised him.
    The walls were painted in earth-tones, a rich russet on one wall, a dark adobe orange on another. The furniture was comfortable. Nothing fancy. Things like this red sofa, and the two oversized green chairs, things that called out to be sunk into, rested upon. There was no art, as he would have called it, on the walls. Instead, things hung from nails and hooks. A large drum with a fringe of