Chapter Fourteen

Lexi had the pleasure of going in to work early the next morning, since Matt was on shift and her dad still had his Jeep. She didn’t argue when he took the keys and helped himself to the driver seat. She was too distracted by his words from the previous day. Things change. He hadn’t so much addressed her as he’d grumbled to himself, and she’d alternated ever since between wondering if he knew he’d spoken aloud and whether he meant the words at all. She didn’t see much room for interpretation, but she didn’t believe that anything could have changed that fast. Not when it came to something so monumental. You got only one rest of your life.

Increasingly, she wondered if she’d spend hers alone.

The ride to the station was short, and they managed it without speaking a single word. So they were weird and tense, and now she got to walk into a den of firemen who spent enough time with Matt to either realize he had his mind on something or know he was only pretending not to.

She desperately wished Caitlin wasn’t in Las Vegas.

Either that, or that she’d had the good sense to hop on the plane when invited. The timing would have been impeccable, if only she’d realized months ago when Caitlin had booked her tickets that Lexi was going to burn down her own house and blow up things with Matt.

He put the car in park, and she was all about throwing open her door and making an escape, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“Lexi—”

She looked at him, not because it felt like a good idea, but because the electricity was alive and well. It wasn’t fair, really, that he could touch her in the most innocent of ways and leave her dizzy like this. Maybe she needed to see a doctor.

Definitely not an EMT.

She regarded the way he’d touched the tips of her hair that fell loosely forward, and she was so tempted to take his hand, lace his fingers one by one with hers, and ask him what they were doing. But she wasn’t sure she’d like the answer. Matt wasn’t one to shy away from asking for what he wanted.

He couldn’t have wanted her—at least not beyond the sex, though maybe he didn’t find that as phenomenal as she did—or he’d have said so.

Which left her…nowhere.

Except the absolute focus of his attention was somewhere in the vicinity of her mouth, the realization of which made flames lick dangerously low in her belly.

She pulled away and threw open the door. “I, um, I’m going to be late.”

“You don’t have to be here for two more hours,” he called after her, but she ignored him. Seconds later she heard a low curse, followed by the opening and slamming of his door.

They walked into the station together, her making every defensive move in her playbook to keep from meeting his eyes. The guys from the previous shift were just clearing out, and she was grateful for the chaos, however temporary the reprieve.

Because not ten minutes later, Shane was calling her in for breakfast. She took her sweet time going into the kitchen, only to find that she’d either need to sit next to Matt or on someone’s lap. The latter option wouldn’t keep the questions from flying, so she dropped into the chair and helped herself to five of the approximately eighty pancakes stacked in the center of the table.

Three bites in, she realized that Matt’s leg rested almost entirely along hers. She shot him a sideways look only to find him ignoring her a bit too neatly for her to believe the contact wasn’t intentional. Instead, he was laughing at something Jack had said, like that very leg hadn’t been clenched around his back while he…how could he not feel this?

And why hadn’t she waited in the car to hear what he had to say?

She tried to nudge his leg away, but he didn’t move.

Huffing out a breath, she grabbed a piece of bacon off his plate and popped it into her mouth—not that he noticed with how steadily he was ignoring her. Seriously, what was with him? Was he trying to get under her skin?

Scowling, she reached under the table and poked him in the leg.

No response.

Her blood heated. The way she saw it, Lexi had two options: make a scene in front of the guys, or teach him a lesson.

Really. Was there even a choice?

When she was sure no one was paying attention, she rested her hand on Matt’s thigh. He tensed at the initial contact but still didn’t spare her a glance.

She pursed her lips. Hmm. A more aggressive approach, maybe.

Stealthily, she trailed her fingers down to his knee, then took her sweet time working her way back up, curling her fingertips slightly, turning the rhetorical jab into a caress. Halfway between his knee and his hip, when she grazed a known tickle spot on his inner thigh, he stopped chewing.

She smothered a laugh. Digging in right there was tempting, but there were better ways to get under his skin.

Like a shift north.

She moved slowly, trying not to draw attention, but she really needn’t have worried. The conversation continued without either of them. Matt’s jaw was clamped shut, the muscle ticking, signaling his frustration.

You started it.

He shifted in his seat, she supposed, to ease his discomfort…and played right into her hand. Literally.

She palmed him through his pants and had to fight laughter when he swallowed, hard. He was tense, every muscle as hard as a rock. She couldn’t believe no one had noticed, but they hadn’t, so she increased her grip, stroking him slowly, lightly squeezing the tip.

He smacked the table with both hands at once, causing everyone else to jump. “Jesus Christ, Lexi!”

His voice was so sharp and short that Diego froze mid-snicker.

“I sense some…tension,” Jack ventured after a long silence.

“Everything is fine,” Matt said tersely.

“Well, that’s good,” Shane said, “because if you two ever decide you’re calling it quits on that, what, twenty-five-year-old marriage of yours, things would get pretty weird around here.”

“One of you would have to switch stations,” Jack said.

“Dibs,” Matt said immediately, a scowl twisting his face, and Lexi wasn’t sure he was kidding.

“Just kiss and make up and get it over with,” Shane said. He stood, grabbed the plate of bacon off the stove, and dropped it with a—pointed, Lexi suspected—clatter on the table. “No one needs to deal with this kind of energy on shift.”

If Matt had glanced her way Shane mentioned kissing, Lexi probably would have dissolved in her seat. Instead, he seemed to actively avoid looking at her, and she wondered if his intent was to make her crazy or keep himself sane.

Either way, she didn’t need to sit next to him for it.

“You’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry.” She pushed back from the table. “Thanks for breakfast, guys. I’m going to get to work.”

“Aren’t you off the clock for another hour?” Diego asked.

“At least. See you.” She pushed in her chair, gave the plate a quick rinse, and put it to the side for the next run of the dishwasher. Then she headed to the garage. Her job entailed checking all the turnout gear to ensure it was clean and in good repair and following up on any reports of damage or needed upgrades. Today, she had a list.

She had opened the first cabinet and taken a step back before she realized Matt had followed her. “We need to talk,” he said.

“Then talk,” she said. She didn’t turn around. Unfortunately, she had little reason to keep staring at the wall in front of her, but it was preferable to meeting Matt’s eyes. Nothing that ever started with we need to talk ended well.

“The guys are right,” he said. “This isn’t a good idea.”

If it wasn’t a good idea, why was he standing so close? Every hair on the back half of her body stood at full attention, each clamoring to be the first to make skin contact with him. “You’re right,” she said, spinning with a prayer that he’d back off.

She was wrong.

He didn’t.

And she couldn’t bear to walk away.

“Good,” he said. But her agreement didn’t seem to release any of the tension.

“There’s just too much between us,” she said. “I can’t imagine not being with Elsie.”

“She’d never trust anyone but you,” he agreed. “And if you stopped coming around, she’d probably run me out of there, smacking me with her purse.”

Lexi nodded, stepping away, standing near the safety of the fire engine. “And my parents would never forgive me if you vanished.”

He frowned. “It’s not like it would be your fault.”

“It takes two. This wouldn’t be all on you, not that I’d stand between you and Elsie’s swinging purse but”—she shrugged—“you know.”

His eyebrows shot up, and he again closed the distance between them. “So you think this is…a thing between us?”

She rubbed her arms to deter the goose bumps that had made an unwelcome appearance. “I think we just decided it didn’t matter.”

He didn’t move.

She didn’t breathe.

“I don’t think I said it didn’t matter,” he finally said. “I think, if anything, we decided it mattered too much.”

In the dimly lit bay with its sheet of concrete flooring and cinderblock walls, his softly spoken words seemed to echo until they found every crack and crevice of her crumbling resolve.

She swallowed, hard. “Either way, the result is the same.”

“Right,” he said. He raised his arm, grabbing one of the handles strategically positioned on the truck, and leaned in, bringing with him a heat so intense that she half expected dispatch to blare an incident right there in the garage. “So we ignore this,” he said.

Was that even a question? Because his attention had dropped to her lips, and she was looking up at him and trying—and failing—to control her breathing. She’d seen Waffles pant less in the blazing sun in the dead of summer.

She leaned back against the truck, but it bought her only a couple of inches. Which reminded her of the last time she’d been between Matt and a hard surface, and she nearly whimpered out loud.

Nodding faintly, she said, “Yeah, we ignore it.”