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Her throaty laugh sent an electric jolt racing up his spine, and those tiles were laid in record time.
15
* * *
ERIS
Two months later…
Could life get any sweeter? Eris thought silently to herself as they got out of the car, seeing the fire engine backing into the massive garage. Zane was climbing all over the passenger side front seat since they were parked under a tree in the shade – and she was sincerely glad she’d put the cooler in the back floorboard.
“Look at Daddy!” he was calling out, waving happily… and wearing a bright red cap that had a fire truck on it. “Dere’s my Daddy! Mama, you see him?”
“I see him, sweetie.”
And oh, did she!
Colton was walking across the parking lot toward the car and had never looked sexier. He had this self-confident swagger as he moved, slowly unbuttoning his protective gear and exposing the sweaty T-shirt beneath it as he pulled off his hat. His beloved face was streaked with soot and sweat, but that smile was everything.
“Hey babe… I wasn’t expecting this treat,” Colton grinned. “Zane, come give Daddy a big ol’ sweaty hug.”
“What about Mama?” she invited, huskily and saw his eyes darken.
“Oh, I’ll take care of Mama… don’t you worry about that.”
“Promises, promises,” she whispered, taunting him before stretching up to kiss him softly.
“I absolutely promise,” he murmured, nipping at her lip tenderly. “One more day of this – and don’t you get out of bed in the morning.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, I’ll bring home donuts… and bring you coffee in bed.”
“Something else too?”
“You know it,” he chuckled, putting his hand in her hair. He pulled her to him, kissing her deeply – only to feel a little hand on her forehead, pushing her away. She opened her eyes in surprise, and saw Colton’s look mirrored her own. Zane had put a hand on each of their foreheads, pushing them apart, and was making a face.
“Das’ weird,” Zane grimaced. “My daddy licked you.”
“Oh mercy, son… you don’t know the half of it.”
“Colton!” she gasped, shocked, and looked behind him to make sure the other firefighters didn’t hear their exchange.
“What?”
“Don’t say things like that.”
“Well, they’re true,” he laughed easily as she rolled her eyes.
“Doesn’t matter. You don’t say it in polite company.”
“My son has called me his “idiot donkey” several times… I think we’re good – besides – we both know I’d yell it to the rooftops if I knew it wouldn’t make you mad or embarrassed.”
“True…” she chuckled nervously, hugging him. “I brought you and the boys dinner. I made a massive container of spaghetti and meatballs – and stopped to get some French bread for you all, too.”
“Oh man, that sounds so good, and we are starving.”
“It’s in the cooler in the back, so it stayed hot.”
