by Savannah May
A burst of laughter escapes my mouth as I watch Reese lie back in his lounge chair and fan himself like he’s having a hot flash.
“I seriously don’t know how you do it,” he pants. “You must be the Virgin Mary. Because there is nothing more tempting and decadent than a hotshot—I mean there’s something about the whole fireman meets mountain man vibe they’ve all got going on that makes you want to just lick them all over.”
I’m cracking up seriously now. And when my eyes snap across to the grill I was sure I saw Carter watching me. But his eyes moved away again so maybe he was just casting around the party.
“How did you grow up around these guys and not internally combust?” Reese continues. No, there’s definitely no stopping him now. “I think he needs to come over here right now put out my fire.”
“First of all, Reese…eww,” I blurt out, because he’s starting to attract attention from some of the crew and I would just die if anyone found out. “This is my father and his friends that you are talking about. So just stop. And second, even if I wanted to date one of the crew, much less lick one of them, it would never happen. My father has a strict ‘no dating firemen rule’ and they’re all pretty much terrified of him.”
Except for Carter, I think to myself.
I glance across the pool again, my eyes hypnotically pulled back to him without my permission. I watch Carter for a second. He’s laughing at something my dad’s saying. The last time I saw him, he had a full beard. Now a thin sexy stubble runs across his jawline. His dark messy hair is rippling in the wind. I’d love to feel it rippling through my fingertips.
It’s been three years since I last saw him and it’s hard to believe he looks better now than he did then. Dark aviator sunglasses cover his amazing seas glass eyes, but I know they’re sparkling with little gold flecks because he’s laughing and they always do that. I’ve had them memorized for years. He’s wearing nothing more than black board shorts and a pair of leather flip-flops.
Reese is right, he is the main attraction in town. He has been for as long as I can remember. Carter’s body is flawless, apart from one tattoo on his left shoulder, which is the Laurel Mountain Hotshots emblem in all black. Soft tanned skin covers hard defined muscle on every inch of him. I wonder for probably the millionth time what it would feel like to be pressed up against him, to have his massive arms wrapped around me.
Reese is talking but I haven’t been listening. I need to get a hold of myself.
“Earth to Liv. Did you hear me?” He’s saying and that smirk is back. Like he has a secret.
I clear my throat, “What? Sorry.”
Reese laughs. “Oh, no. You seriously do have it bad. Don’t you? How long have you had the hots for HotShot McCoy?”
I look over at him and roll my eyes. “Whatever blondie,” I snip. “I’m not blind, I can see that he’s hot. But like I said, he’s my father’s best friend, he’s thirty-five, and off limits. I definitely don’t have the hots for him.”
“Don’t blondie me, blondie, you’re not fooling anyone. I know that look. And why exactly is he off limits? Because of some arbitrary rule, your dad made when you were fourteen? You’re twenty-three years old. You’re a grown ass woman, you just graduated from college. You should go for it. He’s a lot better than the wanker you’ve been dating.”
I frown at Reese. There’s no question Carter is a better man than Jonathan. But Jonathan is available and Carter isn’t. “What do you have against Jonathan?”
“Nothing per se. It’s just that he’s not even in your league. I mean on a scale of hotness, you’re in the nine to ten range and he’s, like, a six.”
“Come on Reese. I’m so not a nine and he’s not that bad. And besides, looks aren’t everything.”
“Oh, paaleese…Liv. Look at you. Long golden sun-streaked hair. Banging body. I mean I don’t even like tits, but even I can tell that they’re perfect. You’re pretty much a female version of me. So, yeah. Nine or Ten.”
I laugh and reach over and playfully tap Reese on the shoulder. “Your modesty continues to astound me, but get serious.”
“Ok, seriously - we both know you’re the furthest thing from a sapiosexual.”
“A sappy what?” I say, laughing at Reese’s attempt to be bookish.
“A sapiosexual - a person more turned on by smarts than looks.”
“I could be a sappy-sexual,” I pout pretend. “Seriously though, why don’t you like Jonathan?”
Reese moves his ridiculously oversized sunglasses on top of his head, pushing back his wild blonde wispy hair and looks at me with his striking cornflower blue eyes.
“It’s not that I don’t like him, Liv. I don’t know him that well. But there just doesn’t seem to be a lot to him. Last night at the bar, he seemed more interested in getting drunk with his buddies than spending time with you. You deserve someone spectacular. Like Hottie HotShot over there, who is, by the way, completely checking you out right now.”
A swarm of butterflies lifts off in my stomach and no amount of gulping down will press them back. I’m trying desperately not to think about the fact that Carter is standing in my father’s backyard just a few feet away from me. I’d hoped Reese would forget about him and I’ve tried to change the subject back to Jonathan but it looks like he isn’t going to give it up. Before I can stop them, my eyes bat over towards Carter and ohmigod, he is looking this way. But I’m sure he’s not looking at me.
“He’s my dad’s best friend and I’m sure he’s not checking me out.” Although I really wish he was, with a yearning my body won’t ignore.
“He’s definitely checking you out. Unless my gaydar is out of whack?” Reese snorts as though to say ‘as if’, then when Carter seems to color and look away quickly, adds smugly; “Nope. It’s operating full throttle. I guess it’s possible that he’s checking me out. Well, he’s definitely checking one of us out.”
I squeak and laugh at the same time. “Your gaydar is not out of whack, my friend. But he is straight, trust me. He had a wife at some point and from what I hear, he’s with a different firehouse groupie every weekend. My dad is always giving him shit about it.”
A huge grin spreads across Reese’s face. “Oh my god, he’s an f-boy. A man-whore. Even better. There are firehouse groupies? Tell me more. Where do I sign up?”
Now I can’t help but giggle. “There are wild herds of them,” I tell him. “They show up at the firehouse all the time with stacks of baked goods, casseroles, and cleavage. Some of the more stalkerish ones have even shown up at the house looking for my dad.”
“Hey, do you blame them? Your dad’s hot. I mean I would—”
I scream and put my hands over my ears, “Reese. Stop! Don’t even go there or we won’t be friends anymore.”
“Chill out blondie. I so would not do your dad, that would definitely break the roommate code of conduct. I’m just saying he’s doable, that’s all.”
I shake my head. The last thing I want to hear from my best friend is that he thinks my dad is ‘doable.’ Just eww.
I watch Reese abruptly sit up in his chair and clutch his chest. “Oh. My. God. Liv. He’s the one, isn’t he?”
I furrow my brow. “What? Who? My dad? What are you freaking out about?”
“No. Carter. He’s the one! That night sophomore year, when we had way too many margaritas and then moved on to straight tequila. You puked? Remember? But right before that, you confessed that you regretted handing over your v-card to Steve Jenkins, freshman year. You told me you were hopelessly in love with someone back home and that you wished you’d saved yourself for him.”
I’m shaking my head ‘no’ ferociously, to no avail.
“Oh. My. God. I’m right, aren’t I, it’s Carter? Hottie Hotshot’s the guy.”
I swallow hard and feel my heart speed up. I’m sure my face is bright red. How the hell could Reese know that? Am I that obvious?
“You are so not right,” I insist. “Forget about Carter. And quit changing
the subject. We were talking about Jonathan. Tell me why you don’t like him.”
He smiles at me and shakes his head. “Okay. But you’re not off the hook. We’re so talking about this later. Oh shit.”
As if on cue, I look up following Reese’s eyeline and see Jonathan walking across the patio. As soon as he reaches us, he bends over and gives me a kiss smack on the mouth, his hand on my thigh, which I don’t like. We’ve only been out a few times. I don’t like that he’s kissing me in front of my dad.
In front of Carter.
“Hey, babe. What’s up?” He looks over at Reese and laughs. “Nice shorts dude. Did you borrow those from Liv?”
I cringe as soon as Jonathan speaks and I hear Reese clear his throat before sniping back, “I think the better question is, sweet cheeks, why are you staring at my shorts?”
I can’t help but squirm as I watch Jonathan’s face turn fire engine red and when I glance at Reese, he’s giving me the ‘I told you so look.’
Maybe he’s right. Jonathan’s not the one for me.
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