by Vivian Arend
Other than that, she’d have to wait until the new year like she’d thought before.
Sometimes the slow way was the only way.
The buzzer on the oven went off, pulling her thoughts back to the here and now. To the man watching her with a smile on his lips as addictive as the baked goods on the table.
The past minutes had been a fantastic reminder for Mack of how lucky his best friend was. No sour taste of jealousy marred Mack’s observations, but there was definitely a deep, strong pull of wanting to enjoy the same kind of goodness for himself.
Brad had found himself a beautiful woman who was kind and caring and visibly loved him. He had a daughter who had come ready-made into his world and a new life on the way. He had his father, a brother, and a whole pile of friends Mack knew well from constantly being dragged into the middle of activities.
It was a slice of paradise on earth. A picture that Mack wanted—only with him and Brooke in the starring roles. Not just the two of them together, but the family bit as well, and that realization was enough to leave him breathless.
“You guys are a little earlier than we expected.” Hanna laid a cookie sheet on the cooling rack then offered the oven mitts to Brooke. “We thought you’d show up just in time for supper.”
“The smell of cookies magically traveled all the way to us and made us hurry our meeting,” Ryan teased. “Actually, Talia and I need to go see her grandparents tonight, and with the snow coming, I thought we’d leave a little early.”
Two little girls heaved heavy sighs of disappointment, but he pointed to the plate of cookies and raised a brow. “Seems as if you made a good start on the holidays already.”
Talia nodded slowly, her gaze darting between Crissy and Hanna over and over.
“I’m glad you’ve had a good time with your friend.” Ryan tucked his fingers under his daughter’s chin and spoke softly. “Nainai and Yeye are looking forward to seeing you, as well. But we don’t need to leave for half an hour. And you and Crissy can play another day.”
While Ryan dealt with his daughter, Hanna stepped beside Mack, leaning closer to speak quietly enough that Talia wouldn’t overhear. “Will you stay for supper?” she asked. “There’s plenty. Patrick’s out in the barn, but he’ll be back soon. We’d love to have you and Brooke join us.”
He glanced at Brooke who nodded her agreement, and with that arranged, everyone settled around the big kitchen table for the taste test the girls insisted on.
“Do you really think we should do this?” Brad asked with mock seriousness. “Eat cookies just before dinner?”
At Mack’s side, Brooke let out a choked noise that sounded like an attempt at holding back laughter. “You shouldn’t think of it as eating cookies before dinner, but having leftover dessert cookies from lunch, since we’ve been at this off and on for the past two hours.”
Brad laughed. “Well, I guess that makes it better.”
Crissy and Talia demanded the sugar cookies get first taste. While they were a little misshapen, when the sugary goodness melted on his tongue, Mack couldn’t resist making an appreciative noise.
The girls’ faces lit up with joy.
“Santa is going to love those,” he told them seriously.
Crissy dipped her chin knowingly. “He does. All his helpers love them too, especially…”
She glanced at Hanna then pressed her lips together. Hushing herself although she wiggled at the difficulty of staying mum on whatever wanted to spill free.
Beside him, Brooke laughed softly, obviously in on the secret. Her thigh rubbed his and something sweeter than the sugar he’d just consumed rushed him, and he was a second away from grabbing her and kissing her senseless.
Instead, he reached for the other plate on the table. A spicy scent rose from the square shapes decorated with beautiful pictures on the surface, and his mouth watered. “Are these your Gram’s recipe?”
Brooke nodded. “Thanks to Hanna and the girls, I did not burn them.”
Everyone at the table took one, ceremoniously lifting it to their mouths at the same time for the first bite.
First difficult bite. The square was more rock than cookie. And the taste—
Mack managed to keep from gagging or spitting it out.
Crissy and Talia were not quite as polite, reaching for their glasses of milk and downing them completely before looking with wide-eyed worry at Hanna.
Hanna placed her barely nibbled cookie back on her plate and faced Brooke with concern. “Not that I want to cast further doubt on your cooking abilities, but did you copy down the recipe correctly?”
Brooke made a rude noise. “Figures. I don’t burn it, but it still tastes terrible.”
“So, that’s not what it’s supposed to taste like? Good to know,” Brad said.
Brooke stuck out her tongue at him, and Talia and Crissy both laughed, tension easing from the room.
“I suggest we all eat a gingersnap to recover from that…whatever it was,” Brooke said smoothly. “After all of you promise not to sue me for trying to poison you.”
“And then it’s time to clean up.” Hanna passed around another plate before heading to the counter to finish tipping cookies into a bag. “These are for you and your grandparents, Talia.”
Cookie munching and crumb swiping commenced, and in the confusion, Mack caught hold of Brooke’s hand and tugged her with him toward the side of the house.
The air grew cooler the farther they moved away from the kitchen and wood-burning stove in the living room, but he had plans that would heat them both up plenty.
“I don’t know what happened,” Brooke complained. “I swear I had the recipe right—oh!”
He twirled her toward him and stepped closer. An instant later, her back sank into the thick coats hanging on the mudroom wall as he pinned her in place with his body.
Breasts soft against his torso, curvy hips tight to his. Mack caught her chin in his fingers and stared at her mouth hungrily for a long, intense moment before closing the distance between them.
He wanted to show her he could do slow—that she deserved to be worshiped—but aching desire made her impossible to resist.
The sweetness of her kiss had nothing to do with the cookies they’d eaten and everything to do with his addiction. He craved this. Needed her taste in his mouth, her scent in his system, her nails digging into his shoulders. Their tongues teased then retreated as he slowly rocked their hips together.
He was harder than those damn cookies had been, and that was saying something.
Mack adjusted position slightly, pulling her more firmly onto his thigh, and she gasped. He captured the sound with his mouth, lifting his leg and rubbing harder against her core.
A low rumble escaped him as she dragged her nails down his back. Lines of heat branding him and making him curse the layers of fabric between them. He wanted skin. Naked and wild under him. Open to his touch and his mouth and his teeth.
But since he couldn’t have that at the moment, he’d take getting to see passion flare in her eyes and watching her come unglued. Undone by his touch and his presence.
He leaned in harder, captured her hips, and dragged her upward enough to get her on her tiptoes. No control on her part, all of it his. He stared intently as desire flushed her skin.
Voices carried from deeper in the house, but here in the small room there was just his heavy breathing and her low gasps. The sounds turned to trembling rasps before she bit her bottom lip and tried to silence her pleasure.
“You get off on it, don’t you? Don’t want to be overheard fooling around at the fire hall, but the chance we might accidentally be caught in some public place presses all your hot buttons, doesn’t it?”
“Yours too,” she pointed out with a low moan. “Thank you, Christmas spirits, and hallelujah.”
He laughed softly because she was right. “I promise not to let anyone underage be traumatized by our wicked, wicked ways.”
But he was definitely on board for
finishing this round before he was forced to stop. Didn’t mean he couldn’t make a point, though. Mack slowed the upward motion of dragging her up his thigh.
She pounded a fist against his back in protest.
“Noooo. Don’t stop,” she whispered, desperation in her tone.
“You need more? You want more?” He pressed his lips next to her ear and let the words rumble against her skin. “You want me?”
“Yes.”
Mack dropped her back in position and set his leg in motion, rubbing his thigh muscle against her sex like he was a Boy Scout working two pieces of dry kindling on a windy day.
Brooke twisted her face to the side, lips desperate to meet his as she quivered, then shuddered, then gasped. Her heart pounded hard enough that the echo of the pulse reverberated against his lips as he skimmed down the side of her throat, holding her up as she fought to catch her breath.
He was still hard, still aching and needy, but damn happy.
The door to outside swung open with a low creak.
Mack twisted instantly, Brooke slid a step away.
As Brad’s father came through the door, she hurriedly hung the coats they’d been compressing a little more firmly on the hooks, as if that’s all she and Mack had been up to. A little cleanup in the mudroom.
The fact she kept her back toward the other man to hide her flushed face and the wildly satisfied grin she wore amused Mack and proved how smart she was.
Distraction, now.
“Patrick. Good to see you again. Can I help with your coat?” Mack offered.
Patrick Ford leaned on his double canes for a moment, eyeing Brooke’s industrious tidying before he nodded and let Mack take it from him. “Feel a little warm in here to you?”
Brooke coughed, then bent to straighten a pair of boots.
Mack dragged his gaze off her perfect ass and smiled at Mr. Ford. “Just the contrast from being outside, I imagine. It’s a cold one out there.”
“Cold, and there’s snow on the way. The storms around here have a way of sneaking up on us, but if the predictions are right, this could end up the snowiest Christmas in ten years,” Patrick told him. “Going to have to work hard to stay warm.”
Staying warm wasn’t their issue, Mack figured. Spontaneous combustion was more along the lines of what he and Brooke had to worry about.
She met his gaze as Patrick walked away, her cheeks rosy and her eyes bright.
Heat? They had it in spades. He needed to get moving on the part where he was granted the privilege to stoke her fires anytime he wanted.
It really was all he wanted for Christmas.
5
“Again.”
A chorus of groans greeted his announcement, but Mack had already hit the timer before sending his skipping rope twirling into action.
In front of him, a half dozen volunteer firefighters were moving through the workout with as much enthusiasm as they could muster. The air carried the scent of sweat and ever-present lingering smoke, plus the rich aroma of tomato sauce as the second team, which was taking part in a first-aid refresher upstairs, worked on the communal meal they’d all share later.
Here by the fire equipment, music pounded around them, the heavy beat syncopated with the sound of feet against the concrete floor.
“Keep up,” Mack encouraged. “Just a little more.”
“You. Said. That. Before.” A smart-ass quip was delivered in gasping breaths from one of the group as everyone pushed through until the timer went off.
Instantly the crew drooped, hands resting on knees as they breathed hard, but waited and watched, refraining from dropping to the floor in exhaustion. Mack clapped his hands in approval and offered them the words they’d been waiting for.
“That’s it. Cool down and stretch before you hit the showers.”
A collective sigh of relief rang out.
Mack wasn’t the only one to chuckle. At his side, Alex gave his own announcement. “Dinner’s on the table in forty-five. You’ve got time before hitting the grub line.”
Mack gave final instructions. “Around the station five times, whatever speed you want, but the last two should be walking. And don’t forget to stretch your deltoids as well as your hamstrings—those arms we did earlier in the day are going to kill if you don’t.”
The fatigued crew hauled themselves off the floor where they’d collapsed, shuffling good-naturedly into a pack to amble around the perimeter of the hall.
Alex tipped his head after them. “Set a good example and cool down yourself.”
Mack nodded, jogging slowly as Alex joined him. “How did your session go?”
Alex shared what they’d managed to cover in terms of emergency response on the medical side. Mack nodded, pleased with how the evening had gone overall.
They’d been mixing up the training over the past while—a great idea brought in by one of their temporary EMTs. Having a strong volunteer force was about the camaraderie as much as the skills, but having them divide up physical training with technical refreshers meant if there were an emergency that evening, then the entire team wasn’t going to be exhausted.
They’d completed enough laps, so Mack slowed to a march, nodding in approval as some of the volunteers from upstairs came to join in a huge, impromptu stretch session. “I’m impressed with how well the teams are getting along.”
“It’s great,” Alex agreed. “I wonder if we need another lead coordinator, though.”
Mack glanced at the other man. “You don’t think the four of us are enough?”
“I think having backup who is trained and knowledgeable about the system is even better. Plus, I was thinking Brad shouldn’t be considered one of our leads full-time anymore. Not with his responsibilities outside the area, and the new ones that will be coming on board this year.”
Impressive. Mack nodded as he eyed Alex thoughtfully. “You’re right. I hadn’t considered the baby part of it. You have any ideas? Anyone you think of on the teams who is ready for more responsibility?”
“I’ve got a few ideas, but I thought I should put the bug in your ear. You should probably be the one to tell Brad he’s being moved to a more supervisory role.” Alex grinned widely. “Have fun with that.”
Mack let his amusement show. “Trust me. Brad’s not one to hold on to a job just for shits and giggles. He knows how much time it takes to be here and alert. Having a newborn in the house isn’t very conducive to our chief being at his finest.”
They slid into the group gathered in the open space beside the gleaming fire truck, joining in conversations and stretching, slipping out to the community shower room in small groups to wash away the sweat.
Mack had just finished dragging a comb through his hair when the sound of the dinner bell rang through the building.
The scent of chocolate hovered on the air, although the dessert table was still bare. The meal was all in place, though, and he joined the lineup to heap his plate with spaghetti and a rich meat sauce that had him drooling.
Then he stole the salad tongs from the volunteer in front of him who was distractedly checking her cell phone.
“Hey,” Charity complained. “I wasn’t done with those.”
He dropped a serving on her plate before serving himself up twice as much. “You snooze you lose,” he reminded her. “Just because phones aren’t outlawed when training is done doesn’t mean this is the time to be using one. You might get distracted and miss out on something good.”
One of their younger recruits, Charity only rolled her eyes a little as she tucked the phone into her back pocket. “Yes, sir.”
Fighting to keep the grin off his face was damn hard at times. Mack joined a different table of volunteers he hadn’t spoken with in a while, listening to their stories and answering questions.
His plate was empty, and he was ready to go attack the trays of brownies now waiting on the dessert table when, in his back pocket, his phone vibrated.
Only a limited number of people in his con
tacts had alerts attached to their messages, Brooke being one of them.
Mack snuck the phone out and held it under the edge of the table to discreetly check his messages.
Brooke: I found some boxes!
Ten out of ten for sheer enthusiasm. Now all he had to do was figure out what the hell she was talking about.
Mack: are these good boxes?
* * *
Brooke: very good boxes. Ones filled with Christmas decorations.
* * *
Mack: that’s great. Anything useful?
* * *
Brooke: I’m not sure. Just because I found them doesn’t mean I’ve been able to open them. Long story, but do you have time to come over later?
* * *
Mack: I’m done in a bit, and I’m not on call until tomorrow. I’d love to come check out your decorations.
* * *
Brooke: I don’t know which emoji I should send you for that comment
* * *
Mack: let’s avoid the whole vegetable/fruit debacle. I still haven’t recovered from the time you sent me the eggplant emoji next to a bonfire. I swear I needed therapy.
* * *
Brooke: LOL. Get your eggplant and the rest of you over here whenever you can.
The realization that the room had gone utterly quiet while he’d been distracted clicked in a split second before he shoved his phone in his pocket and looked up.
His plate was gone. His glass was gone. Every face at the table was turned toward him with an amused expression and raised brows.
Across the table from him, Charity dug her fork into a final bite of brownie, raising it toward her mouth and humming happily. “You know there’s a time and a place for cell phones. You get distracted and you might miss out on something good.”
