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Jake grinned and took her hand. “Who said a bad boy can’t teach a teacher a few things?”
Laurel directed her attention away from his clear blue eyes and concentrated on the building they were approaching. The look he’d given her made it feel like he was trying to decipher her secrets. Or worse yet, learn her fantasies... which, lately, all featured him in a starring role.
He leaned over and whispered, “I bet you’d be a great student.”
She stumbled mid-step.
“You okay?” Jake asked.
The man spoke double entendre so fluently, he probably held a gold medal.
“I’m fi—good,” she corrected quickly. “I’m good.”If you count getting turned on by a guy explaining firefighting foam, good.“Is it dangerous?”
“The foam?”
She nodded.
I already know you’re dangerous.
“No. It’s non-toxic to humans. Just don’t go eating it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Darn, I was hoping it would add a little seasoning to my chicken.”
“Oh, shit, that’s right. You haven’t eaten yet.”
“Well, my kitchen is trashed, so… perfect excuse to get a greasy, fast-food burger.”
“Maybe you should lay off grease for the rest of the night.”
“Oh, my gosh!” She slapped him on the arm. “Really?”
“Too soon?”
She laid her best teacher glare on him.
“Too soon,” he confirmed. “But seriously, you shouldn’t be eating that stuff. It’s not healthy.”
“Wow. I never pegged you for a health nut.”
“Me?” He grimaced. “Fuck, no. I dip my mayonnaise in mayonnaise.”
That made her laugh.
“But I do make a mean ravioli.”
Jake opened the door to her apartment. As soon as they stepped inside, the acrid stench of smoke accosted them.
“Eww.” She pulled the blanket up over her nose and tried to breathe through her mouth. “You weren’t kidding that it smells like smoke.”
“I have my vices, but lying isn’t one of them.”
“Something tells me you don’t sugarcoat much,” she said.
“Just my cereal.”
Laurel timidly approached the kitchen. Her face fell when she looked at the destruction caused by the fire. Most of the wall behind the stove was black with sections burned through the drywall. The cupboards looked like charcoal boxes. Some were completely destroyed, others hanging in tatters, and more still were in charred pieces on the floor. There was debris, broken dishes, shards of glass, warped, partially melted plastic bowls, and other items strewn all over the wet floor. White froth floated on some of the puddles and frosted other areas of the kitchen.
Hearing about the damage was one thing; seeing it in person made tears spring to her eyes.
