Page 40

Unfortunately, my multitasking attempt backfired. I was barely able to form a coherent sentence with all the blood pooling south, so I’d have to reread the reports to ensure they made a lick of sense.

My brain reminded me to be more discreet in the future. The sounds I’d made as I listened were probably heard through the door, which triggered the hoots and hollers in the bay.

I woke up at four in the morning when my phone chimed to signal I had a message. My cock was rock hard in an instant at seeing the text message from Jordan, and there was no possibility for relief until I got to the blue bungalow on the beach where my heart was waiting for me.

I opened my office door to see the crew playing a game of Nerf basketball, likely to burn off some residual energy from our call the previous night. I understood it completely.

“I’m in.”

Fuentez tossed me the sponge ball, and I pumped it as though I were dribbling. We didn’t play teams. It was every person for themselves, and we didn’t keep score or track fouls. The game was meant to release any pent-up adrenaline so we could crash when we got off shift. It was also a team-bonding exercise, and nobody had complained when we put two small rims on either side of the bay.

AB was all over me, so I shot the ball to Fischer, and he pumped his arm before he shot from the half-court line. The ball swished through without touching the net.

“I’m out. I’m going to Baja to meet up with my cousins to camp at the beach for two days. Don’t call me for any reason.” We all laughed as Nguyen picked up the sponge-basketball and tucked it between the rim and the backboard so the next crew could find it.

One by one, we all bumped fists as we gathered our things to go home, and I was glad I’d taken a little time to calm myself before I went to the beach and attacked Jordan. He was special, and I was determined to treat him so.

The scent of coffee that greeted me when I opened the back door of the blue beach bungalow wasn’t unusual. It was comforting.

I made a habit of setting one of my two coffee makers to go off just before I got home the morning after a shift because it was almost like having someone waiting for me. It kept me from brooding, but now, I had an actual person there waiting for me.

Unfortunately, Jordan wasn’t in the kitchen, so I slid off my boots and slowly traversed the hallway. Like a five-year-old boy, I crossed my fingers that my wish would come true.

Jordan’s door was open, and his bed was empty, smoothed, but not made. I braced myself and slowly walked down the hall to the primary bedroom door, which was half-closed. My heart picked up at the possibility that Jordan was inside, so I held my breath for a moment.

When I pushed the mahogany door open, I exhaled. I saw exactly what I wanted to see—Jordan Horn, asleep in my bed, just as I’d requested. The peace that engulfed me fought with anticipation for the future. The sensations were more satisfying than I’d ever imagined.

Sitting on the side of the bed for a moment, I wondered if things between Jordan and me could grow into something permanent. Could we be a couple? Could we have a future together, the rock star and the firefighter? That sounded like a holiday rom-com.

I peeled off my socks, then removed my uniform shirt, pants, and undershirt, shoving them into the laundry bag. Much to my surprise, Jordan lifted his head, his hooded eyes slowly taking me in before he offered a sleepy smile.

“Thatcher? Are you really here?”

I slid in next to the man who was right out of my dreams and pushed him onto his back. When his eyes were brighter and more focused, they lit up as though fireworks were going off in the beautiful light-brown irises before he giggled and lit my soul on fire. “How was your shift?”

My breath left me as I stared at the gorgeous man in my bed. “Too long. I got that audio and made the mistake of listening to it in my office. Hearing you enjoy yourself was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever witnessed.”

Jordan’s cheeks turned bright pink, and I leaned forward and kissed each one before my lips met his luscious mouth. Those soft, pillowy lips would be the death of me.

I broke the kiss and studied him. “What did you have for dinner last night?”

He wouldn’t meet my gaze, which didn’t sit well with me. “Tell me, please. Truthfully.”

“I made a grilled cheese sandwich, but I burned it. I think I owe you a skillet.”

I laughed. “That’s okay. Is it on the stove? It’s an induction cooktop, and it took me a while to figure it out.”

Jordan chuckled. “No, I was inspired to write some lyrics, and I forgot about making the sandwich. I was sure it wouldn’t be good if I burned down the lieutenant fireman’s house over a grilled cheese sandwich, so I grabbed the skillet, took it outside, and set it in the cool sand.”

I was proud of him for his quick thinking. The cool sand was the perfect way to keep the skillet from sparking.

“It was one of the skillets left at the house, so no harm. Did you eat anything after you burned your sandwich?”

“I ate some cereal. I’m fine.” He leaned back against the headboard, a sweet expression on his face.

My body thrummed with energy as I relaxed next to Jordan. I moved his long hair from his shoulder and tucked it behind his right ear. “Do you like having long hair, or do you have it because you’re in a band?” It was a stupid question, but I was interested.

Jordan laughed. “I don’t trust anyone to cut my hair but me. When I was growing up, my grandmother used to shave my head three times a year. She’d tell me some crazy story about her extended family being haunted so I’d sit still. I hated the shearing she gave me, so I vowed that when I grew up and had a say-so, I wouldn’t cut my hair until I sat on it. I’ve been cutting it myself for about four years.”