What he left unsaid? Why the hell the Italian press had created a nickname for five American kids. Because she had to know the basic story. The whole thing got resurrected in the media every time one of them did something newsworthy.
One of Griff’s Coast Guard rescues had gone viral a few months ago, which jump-started another round of “remember when” on Twitter. Not to mention their Naked Men podcast on satellite radio that had brought the story up as a headline. They ignored it all. Kept their mouths shut on the topic. He just hoped Summer had the sense not to try and dig to get any more from him.
“Oh. Would it bug you if I used it?”
“Uh…no.” And when she sensibly/thoughtfully didn’t say anything else, Riley continued. “Like I was saying, trips are a big deal to us. We’ve got traditions. Stuff we like to do together. Now it’ll be all different. Are Griff and Chloe going to be holed up in their room doing it all day? Or will he still come out and Jet Ski with us? Madison’s from Alaska. Hell, this could be her first time at the beach. Will she be all high-maintenance about the sand?”
“Are you seriously planning out every worst-case scenario?”
Of course. “It’s what I do. If you plan for the worst, you figure out how to avoid it, and how to mitigate things if they do happen.”
Her mouth twisted downward in its usual-in-his-vicinity snarl. “Aren’t you a barrel of laughs. I bet you’re a big hit at funerals. And interventions.”
“Nope.” Riley made a time-out gesture with his hands. “That. That comment right there. That’s what I’m talking about. We don’t go after each other like that. No rising to the bait. No sniping. No snapping.”
“No fun,” she added. But it was with a soft smile that Riley immediately knew he’d move mountains to make it appear again.
“It’ll make it more fun for everyone else. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be good for us, too. ’Cause we’re stuck in each other’s lives now. Or we will be, once Chloe pulls the trigger on marrying Griff. Maybe we’ll discover we don’t actually hate each other.”
Summer stood up slowly. “I don’t hate you, Riley. I don’t understand you much of the time. I don’t agree with you most of the time. But I’m pretty sure that I don’t hate you.”
He shuffled forward a step. Gave in to a flat-out-stupid impulse and put an arm around her waist. “I don’t hate you, either.”
“That’s something.” Her hand fluttered up to rest on his chest.
“So…a truce?”
“Absolutely,” she murmured. “I make nice to people all the time who drive me crazy. Customers who can’t make up their minds. The lady at the dry cleaners who won’t give me my clothes until I’ve listened to the latest installment of how brilliant her kid is at table tennis.”
They were close enough for Riley to smell her perfume. It was exotic. Like a Turkish bazaar, all spicy and as rich as the thick woven rugs. He could offer up something, too. “My boss? He yells at everyone. On my team, on all the other investigative teams. He believes in leading via intimidation. But I had to go to a big charity dinner he hosted and laugh at his bad jokes all night long like he was a headliner at an improv club.”
“We’re professional. Mature. We can do this.”
“Be nice to each other? Yeah. I’m really good at being nice to beautiful women. It’s one of my specialties.”
“You think I’m beautiful?”
“Damn right I do.” Riley traced the delicate shell of her ear with one finger. Thumbed along her high, sharp cheekbone.
Leaning in to breathe warm air across six-o’clock stubble, she murmured. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
Well, she was right there. In his arms. Smelling all sexy. Looking like a sweet treat he didn’t just want to taste, but gobble up. Why bother with a handshake to seal the deal? Wouldn’t a kiss be better proof of how nice they’d treat each other over the weekend?
So Riley went for it. He brushed a kiss across her lips.
Nope.
Not enough. Not nearly enough.
He slid his hand around to cradle the back of her skull. The one covered with that thick, silky fall of hair that Riley wanted draped over his naked belly. Tilted her head back a little more and dove into her mouth. Her slick, sweet, hot mouth that was so fucking kissable he wanted to move into this store for a week and do nothing but lock lips with Summer.
Heat burned through his veins like a shot of Jäger with a chaser of primal lust. Was it the fighting with her that got him going? Or was it Summer herself, with her big eyes and delicate features and breasts that were pressed against him so tight he felt the hard nipples digging into his chest? Either way? She smelled great. She felt fantastic. She tasted like a wet dream. And the way her tongue curled and stroked his was probably illegal in five states. Anything that good had to be bad for him somehow.
Wait.
Despite her kittenish whimpers that hardened his dick to pure steel, Summer was bad for him. They didn’t agree on anything—today was probably just a fluke. She raised his blood pressure to near-stroke-out levels. This truce was just for show, nothing more.
Riley stepped back so abruptly that Summer swayed. “Glad we straightened things out.” As he beat feet to the door, he hollered over his shoulder, “G-Man, I’m outta here.”
Because he didn’t trust himself to spend another second alone with Summer…without kissing the clothes right off of her.
Chapter 4
Chloe cleared her throat. Loudly. Loud enough that Summer could hear it over the end-of-rush-hour traffic and blaring horns on 13th Street. “Technically, we bring food to the fire department and police station out of respect and gratitude, right?”
It was a weird question. Summer and Chloe had been dropping off dinners and treats once a month to stations ever since they got out of the hospital after the shooting at their college. They were both convinced they would’ve died had it not been for the extraordinary work of emergency services personnel that day. It was too far to trek back to that small Virginia town, but they’d vowed to show their gratitude wherever they lived for the rest of their lives. Now they’d struck up a strong friendship with Engine Company 16, especially.
“Um, yes. Why? Are you suddenly looking for a tax donation or something?” If so, it was probably Riley’s fault. Hounding Chloe seven freaking months early about filing, like he did everyone else. Because that was the sort of anal, annoying thing he did. All the time. Worry about things that weren’t on a normal person’s radar. Like jaywalking.
“Nope. Just a reason not to feel guilty about how much I’m enjoying this.”
Summer looked up from her phone as Chloe parked next to the glistening fire engine. Ah. Now she understood. The guys were taking advantage of the not-abysmally-humid day to wash and detail it outside the station. Two of them with their shirts off. Two of them with shirts so wet she could count every muscle in their six-packs. And even though Summer was still tingling from the annoyingly perfect kiss Riley gave her two days ago, she was woman enough to appreciate the utter awesomeness of the hotness arrayed in front of her.
“Can I just say, on behalf of all womankind, yum?”
“If you want one of them so badly—”
“Not one,” Summer interrupted. “All of them. It’d be an insult to choose one over the other.”
Chloe unbuckled her seatbelt. “Okay, why not just ask, well, not all, but one of them out? Brett’s flirted with you from the first day we stopped by. Mitchell always asks specifically what you made and then eats whatever it is, totally ignoring what I made. And Luiz just sort of smolders at you.”
“He does, doesn’t he?” Summer said with a sigh. “I do so enjoy a good smolder. But no. Ogling and drooling only. You know my one and only rule.”
Now it was Chloe’s turn to sigh. Because she’d been trying to talk Summer out of this particular rule for years. For as many years as Summer had spent trying to ease Chloe out of her protective shell. For a long time, their efforts had canceled each othe
r’s out. “Right. You won’t risk falling for someone who risks their life even a little for their job. But Summer, we live in Washington, D.C. Sixty-eight square miles chock-full of FBI and CIA, police, Secret Service, every branch of the military, diplomats…It doesn’t leave you much to choose from.”
She smoothed her hair, then tucked it behind her ears. Chloe’s near-engagement had upped the frequency of her pointed attempts to get Summer to fall in love. Like it was just that simple. Something she could just snap her fingers and do so that Chloe and Griff had brunch partners every third Sunday. “I had a date with that lobbyist last month.”
“The one you texted me to call and get you out of with a fake emergency after only an hour?”
“It wasn’t fake. There was a real emergency. You were out of ice cream, and needed me to bring some over.” Summer got out and pulled plastic containers from the backseat. “The other emergency was that I was about to die of boredom. Politics is sooo not my thing.”
“But sexy men are.” Chloe grabbed the loaded containers from her side and nodded her head back toward Luiz. “You’re working crazy hours. You’ve had at least a dozen bad or blah dates in a row. Why not just have a fun hookup? Something to recharge your system and put a smile on your face?”
“I already checked that off the list.”
Chloe blinked at her. “You hooked up with a guy and didn’t tell me?”
Summer swished from side to side to get her long batik skirt unbunched. “Not an actual hookup. A kiss.”
“Please. You did that with Riley on Sunday. It doesn’t count. You wrote him off as a mistake. An aberration.”
“Until I did it again.” She lifted the top container off the stack. “While you and Griff were canoodling in my storage room. He…he just moved in on me and we kissed again. It didn’t just recharge my system—I think he overloaded it. Riley gave me a kissgasm. Does that mean I’m supposed to sleep with him? Does a great kiss immediately roll into sex?”
It was quite clear, from the rapid squish and clatter of sponges and chamois and hoses hitting the pavement, that in addition to Chloe, who just giggled, all the guys had heard her.
Not that Summer was embarrassed. She embraced her sexuality. Reveled in it. She’d just never, ever considered having sex with someone she didn’t even like. Women, in her experience, didn’t work that way.
But rumor had it that men did. And these firefighters were a good enough representative sampling.
She thrust the container of empanadas into Brett’s hands. And placed her index finger beneath his chin to shut his gaping, shocked mouth. “That’s right, gentlemen. Along with burritos, tres leches cake, empanadas, and three kinds of salsa, we also brought you really hot gossip to savor.”
Brett recovered his equilibrium enough to wink at her. “Geez, Summer. If you’d said you wanted to test out this kiss-to-sex theory, I would’ve offered myself up to you months ago.”
It was a sweet offer. Of course, he flirted just as outrageously with the seventy-five-year-old Mrs. Castillo who walked her poodle past the station twice a day.
“What are you doing?” asked Chloe in a whisper that somehow snuck out of just one corner of her mouth. “This is not something to discuss with these guys. Good grief, what if the battalion chief is on duty and hears you?” She tried to push Summer back toward the car with her hip.
But Summer stood her ground. The two epic kisses with the man she’d for months called the FunSucking DeathStar had left her wildly confused. She hadn’t slept since he all but ran out of her store two nights ago, and wouldn’t again tonight unless she got some answers.
“I need information. I can’t think of a better place to get it than here.” She made a sweeping gesture with her arm to encompass the entirety of the fire station. “What makes a man kiss the stuffing out of a woman he doesn’t even like?”
“Would I be out of line to suggest that you need more than just information? Like maybe, some test runs?” Luiz’s words may have been offered to Summer, but his eyes stayed locked on Chloe. Interesting. Not that he had a shot. Her BFF was completely taken, even without a ring on her finger yet.
She watched as Luiz started rolling up the hose. Brett shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Mitchell took the stacked containers from Chloe. Not one of them looked Summer in the eye. “What? Is there some big secret about sex and dating that requires a secret handshake into the man cave to interpret?”
Luiz and Brett exchanged a look. One that clearly meant Does she really want to go there? And How weird would it be to actually talk to her about this? Luiz jerked his head at the big glass doors to the firehouse. “Let’s take this inside.” They all backtracked into the cavernous space, then halted to stack the food on the worktable at the back. “I don’t think we should head up to the kitchen. Do you really want more people in on this?”
What a sweetie. “No.” The battalion chief did intimidate her, with an all-seeing stare that Chloe claimed made her feel like he knew if she’d skipped flossing the night before. “You guys are enough. As long as you’re honest with me.”
Brett opened a container to grab an empanada. “What do you really want to know? Will we kiss anyone as pretty as you, given the chance? Of course.”
Gratuitous compliment duly accepted. Despite the fact that his answer was a useless sidestep. So Summer repeated the point of her question. “Even if you don’t like them?”
Mitchell rubbed a hand over his neat black goatee. “Do we have to state the obvious? Women overthink this stuff. Men don’t think at all.”
Summer thought back to the two instances of kisses she’d shared with Riley. Neither were at the end of a long night of bar crawling. Heck, neither even happened in the dark. No desperation, no settling for what was close at hand. These were broad-daylight kisses intended very specifically for her. Kisses packed with heat and intent. “No. I don’t think that’s true in this case.”
Luiz smirked. “You don’t want us to explain men. You want us to explain one dude. One who’s got you twisted up in knots.”
Yes. No. Confused, not twisted. And thanks to their official truce, Summer couldn’t risk letting her confusion bubble over into frustration with the situation and lead to another round of bickering. Because then Riley would take the high road and get all judgmental and superior about how he didn’t break the truce.
No way would she let him win. “Just tell me. Have you ever kissed a girl you didn’t like?”
“Yes,” the three men said in unison, without any hesitation whatsoever.
Their answer wasn’t a complete surprise. She knew that men were often led by the organ below the belt rather than the one above the collar. It wasn’t enough. It didn’t explain Riley’s sudden attraction after months of skewering her with sarcasm and snooty know-it-all smirks.
Or, just as strangely, Summer’s inclination to kiss him back. With a great deal of enthusiasm and fervor.
Chloe squinted at the men in confusion. “But why? You’re all firefighters. You must have your pick of women anytime you get the urge. Why settle for a…a frozen burrito from the gas station when you could have the whole enchilada from El Centro?”
“You grab the burrito because it’s there. You might go back for three or four, and then you’re done,” Brett said around his mouthful of empanada. “Easy. Good enough.”
“Did you just equate me to a seventy-nine-cent frozen burrito?” Summer pinned her friend with a glare indicating that she wasn’t just skating on thin ice with her answer—she was skating on mere frost.
Chloe threw out her arms. “Well, what would you rather be? A chocolate chip cookie versus an eleven-layer Smith Island cake? A pepperoni Hot Pocket versus lasagna? You choose the food metaphor.”
As if it was even a choice. “What kind of a question is that? Obviously, I’d rather be the Smith Island cake. It is the state dessert of Maryland, after all. It’s special.”
The moment the words came out of her mouth, Summer realized her mistake
. Sure enough, Chloe noticed, too…and she pounced. “Do you want Riley to have kissed you because you were special, or because you were convenient? Which way are you leaning? Because I didn’t think you wanted to be special to the FunSucking DeathStar.”
Uh-oh. She’d flounced in here, so certain that the question, the problem, the confusion was all about Riley. About his not knowing what he wanted. About him not making sense. Wanting an explanation as to why he went from frustrating to flirtatious.
But it was probably more about her reaction to him.
About how they’d finally stopped fighting for longer than three sentences. And how when they did, it turned out that Riley Ness could be both reasonable and interesting.
“I didn’t,” Summer said quietly. “I didn’t want anything to do with Riley. Now, though…I don’t know.”
The firefighters exchanged another three-way look of silent consultation. Shuffled into a tighter semicircle. Then Brett dusted the crumbs from his hand. “The thing is, this guy may like you.”
Why did that possibility put butterflies in her stomach? Summer shook her head as she hitched herself up to perch on the worktable. Legs swinging, striving to be nonchalant, she said, “He does not. Riley’s my complete opposite. He yells at me all the time. Picks on me for no reason.”
“Yep,” Brett continued, nodding with arms crossed over his muscled chest. “I did that. Starting with punching Britt Meissner in the arm back in the second grade. But not because I didn’t like her. Because I did like her and didn’t know what to do about it.”
That answer was both unacceptable and illuminating. Wrapping her head around the idea of she and Riley liking each other? Impossible. Like trying to convince herself that high-waisted jeans were anything but a tragic mistake.
Except…he had apologized. Made an attempt at complimenting her store, her work ethic. Summer jumped back down and paced the length of the bay. When she hit the end of the gleaming hook and ladder, she threw her arms out to the sides and spun around in a slow circle.
Trying It All Page 5
