Trial by Fire by Jo Davis

off the helmet. Held it out. “Well, thanks. For today. I, um . . .” She bit her lower lip, as though sensing his withdrawal.
    He wanted to bite it, too.
    “I’ll walk you to the door.” He took the helmet from her, then removed his own.
    “No, you don’t have to.” She dug in her front pocket, removed her key. “I’m sure you have a million things to do.”
    “Nothing that can’t wait.” Whatever the right answer was, that wasn’t it. Idiot.
    “All right.” With a shrug, she turned and shuffled toward the door, leaving him to follow. Or not. Frowning, he left the helmets behind and hurried after her. In the wake of her retreat, his gallant intention to say “so long” disintegrated faster than a five-alarm blaze at a paper factory.
    She stuck the key in the lock, hesitated. The bewilderment shadowing her heart-shaped face when she turned drove through his chest like a serrated knife. A gorgeous mouth like hers was made for laughter, kissing, any number of wicked things. But not drooping as though she’d lost her best friend.
    “You’re in full retreat mode.” Her direct gaze pinned him like a butterfly to a corkboard. “Did I say or do something wrong?”
    “God, no. Not a chance.” He shook his head, gave her a rueful smile. “Whatever’s going on with me are my problems, not yours. Sorry if I came across like Rod the Jerk.”
    She laughed then, a soft tinkle caressing his skin, skimming each vertebra along his back with silky fingers. “Oh, you’d never be in danger of walking in his polished loafers. The two of you couldn’t be more polar opposites.”
    “A good thing?”
    “Like you need to ask.”
    There you are. Ball is in your court, Six-Pack.
    “Well, I should go.” Saying it aloud made him miserably unhappy.
    “Will I . . . see you again?” Her tone gave her away, even if her expression didn’t. Breathy. Hopeful.
    His for the asking.
    “Tomorrow night? Dinner at my house?”
    Kat’s beautiful face lit, righting the world again. “Monday’s a school night, but I’ll manage.”
    Yesss! “I go on shift Tuesday morning myself, so we’ll keep it reasonable. Why don’t you come over around six thirty and we’ll eat at seven.”
    “Sounds great. What should I bring?”
    “Nothing but yourself, beautiful. One thing firefighters can do really well, among many, is cook.” His chest puffed out and he couldn’t keep the smug satisfaction off his face.
    In spite of his unresolved issues, the real deal was within his reach. Kat was willing to take a chance. On him . Every last stupid thought of letting her go without a fight went belly-up.
    And Howard Paxton was nothing if not a fighter.
    “Directions?”
    “I’ll call you tonight,” he said, brushing a tendril of hair from her face. Jesus, he couldn’t keep his paws off her. Didn’t want to try. He’d been an idiot to believe otherwise.
    “Good. Gives me an excuse to talk to you before I go to sleep.”
    He nearly groaned at the image of her in bed, white-blond hair fanned across her pillow, pleased at the sound of his voice. “Baby, you don’t need an excuse. Any hour, any way you want me, I’m yours.”
    Kat’s amazing green eyes flashed with very real hunger an instant before his lips captured hers. Nice and easy. His tongue stroking the inside of her mouth just as he would someplace else on her curvy body, hot and wet.
    His balls grew heavy, his beleaguered shaft throbbing once more. Aching. Tomorrow night had never seemed so far off. He had to stop now, before this wild, combustible spark ignited and left them both decimated.
    Breaking the kiss, he pulled back, wondering whether he’d have to seek relief later. Alone. Because, by God, it was damned painful to stand this close and not scoop up Kat, carry her inside, and make love to her. All evening.
    All night.
    “Talk to you later.” He fingered the stray, shiny lock of hair. Even windblown, wearing hardly a stitch of makeup, she looked cute as hell.
    As he