Pin-Up Fireman. Vonnie Davis

       CHAPTER THREE

      Feet pounded past the opened kitchen windows while Boyd and Quinn were rinsing dishes and loading dishwashers. Boyd’s neck snapped a fast second glance, and he nearly got whiplash. He kept holding a plate under the water spray as he leaned toward the screen to watch Graci-Ella—her come-to-Jesus legs in navy shorts, full breasts in an apricot tank top and a long ponytail that swished back and forth with each stride. His heart pounded with every pace she made.

      Quinn jerked the plate from Boyd’s hand. “Man, I don’t know who’s breathing faster right now. Her running or you watching.”

      “Bite me.” Boyd leaned farther toward the window so he could keep his eyes on her after she passed by with Einstein. Quinn shifted behind him and shouldered Boyd’s ass until his knees were on the counter. “What the fuckin’ hell, Quinn?” A giggling shove and Boyd’s knees slipped into the double sink—one side full of hot soapy water soaking lasagna pans and the other with the faucet running cold water.

      Quinn, the bastard, was laughing and grabbing for the sprayer.

      “Oh no! Oh, hell no!” Boyd struggled for the sprayer, too, in an effort to avoid the shower he was about to get. In the scuffle, he slipped forward and banged his chin on the window sill, which gave Quinn enough time to gain control of the sprayer and douse him good with cold water.

      Boyd elbowed his co-worker, who lost his balance, slipped on the wet floor and ripped the sprayer’s hose from the faucet assembly. Water flew. Guys came running to see what all the commotion was about. Boyd didn’t doubt for a minute he made a fine sight with his ass in the air and his knees in the sink. He pushed off the window sill and flipped backwards, his sneakers skidding in two different directions until his back hit the floor.

      Quinn, bless his demented ass, laughed so loud it evidently drew the captain out of his office.

      “What in the God damn hell is going on? Someone turn off the water and fix the hose. One of you little boys better mop up the floor.” Captain Steele was known for having spic and span station and that included the kitchen.

      Quinn was known for his big mouth. “Hell, captain, I was only helping Tiny watch the photographer run by the building with Einstein.”

      Feet stampeded to the windows on the other side of the building. Whistles and crude remarks exploded from the gang at the other windows. Damn the rest of the guys for watching her run. They had no right to drool over her.

      Boyd was so pissed, he spun to head for the mop and bucket, shooting Quinn a glare as he stormed to where the cleaning supplies were stored. Never one to back down, Quinn grabbed Boyd’s bicep and leaned in. “If you want her, you better make it known.”

      “Oh, like you did with Cassie? You damn near drove her away. Besides, I’ve got that custody hearing…”

      Quinn’s voice softened. “Don’t pound the hell out of me for this, but I think you’ve got a worthless lawyer. He’s got you scared to do anything but work and take care of Matt. What do you do the weekends the kid’s with his mother? Do you party, date, bay at the moon? No.”

      “I get together with you guys when you have picnics or basketball games.”

      “You need to live, brother. An occasional date would not make you a bad parent. The hell with what that lawyer told you. Cassie’s afraid you’ve turned off your sex drive. She wants to line you up with some of her friends. You know how she gets once she snags onto an idea.”

      Boyd, who was still dealing with half a woody, chuffed a laugh. “Tell her my sex drive is working fine. I’m just keeping it in neutral until after the hearing.” He shook his index finger at Quinn. “Tell that sweet wife of yours I would not appreciate her matchmaking help.” He made a snap decision to get out of his wet clothes and headed for the sleeping quarters to change before he mopped the kitchen floor.

      He’d just swabbed the area in front of the sink when the horny herd charged toward the open back door where Graci-Ella was evidently passing. He spun to snatch another look at her after she rounded the building, but thought better of it. Surely she deserved more than to be ogled like some sex object.

      When he stepped outside to empty his bucket, Einstein barked a greeting as he cleared the end of the fire station. Boyd stepped inside to grab a bowl to fill with water for the dog and snatched a bottle of water out of the refrigerator for Graci-Ella. He carried both outside for the runners. He set Einstein’s bowl on the grass next to the sidewalk. Both the dog and the beauty stopped running.

      “Oh, a life-saver.” Graci-Ella accepted the bottle and unscrewed the top. “Thanks for being so considerate.” She gulped a few swigs, watching Einstein put his muzzle into the bowl, take several laps and then lick Boyd’s calf in gratitude. The corners of her mouth quirked. “Just don’t expect me to do that.”

      “What? Lick my calf?” Hell, his voice cracked like an adolescent. He had to get a grip where she was concerned.

      She nodded, guzzling more water.

      His cock nodded, too. Thank God he’d changed into a pair of baggy cargo shorts. His instant erection wasn’t so obvious, but since he couldn’t stop thinking of her tongue on any part of his body, the damn thing lengthened and thickened some more. He stooped and petted Einstein in an effort to hide it until his mind got off her tongue. Of course, the damn dog licked Boyd’s crotch, then lifted his hind leg and licked his doggie privates.

      “Do you have some free time to talk to me? We could sit on the bench in front of the palms and those pretty orchids.” She motioned with her bottle to the bench she meant.

      “Sure. Let me go in and grab a soda. Do you want one or maybe some more water?”

      She flashed him a heart-melting smile. “No, I’m great. I need to get Einstein back to his owners and then I’ll be over.”

      Boyd was sipping his Coke when Graci-Ella carried a canvas bag over to the bench. “How long have Wolf and Becca been married? They seem so much in love.”

      “A shade over three years. He bought a townhouse next to hers and couldn’t keep his eyes off her as she took her daily jog with the dog. He put out a lot of effort to get her to date him and, thank goodness for the guys at the station, she finally gave in. There’s nothing worse than a man who has his heart set on a woman and can’t make any progress with her.”

      Her blue eyes fixated on his. “Women are no different when they want to know a man better. In fact, sometimes we can be kinda sneaky about getting his attention.” She shoulder bumped his and he choked on his Coke, rasping to breathe.

      She straddled his lap and leaned over to pound his back. He got an up close and personal glimpse down her tank top. Now he knew where she stored a pencil, a thin pencil because there was very little room between her firm breasts. Struggling with the urge to cross the line and touch them with his fingers or tongue or face, he squeezed the bottle of Coke in a fit of stress. Soda shot upwards. Graci-Ella laughed as she wiped it off her face and he soon found himself joining in. Hell, it was either laugh or slither away in humiliation.

      A narrow finger ran over his chin. “You’ve got a scrape here. Want me to kiss it and make it better?”

      His mouth had gone dry, too dry to talk; so he just nodded. Her lips gently covered where he’d bumped his chin on the windowsill. His hands covered her back and he inhaled whatever get-your-sex-here perfume she wore.

      She moved off his lap to sit on the bench again, and his heart began beating