Read Online Charming the Firefighter by Beth Andrews - Free Book Online

search-and-rescue training has taught me only how to find people.”
    His tone was easy and he even managed a grin, though he was sure it was strained. But then, he wasn’t some damned bloodhound with nothing better to do than find lost personal items.
    She frowned, looking so confused he bumped her intoxication score up to six. “Why would you look for my phone?”
    He patted her hand again, both to reassure her and in the hopes she’d get the hint and let go. The woman had a grip like a spider monkey. “Because you lost it.”
    “I did not lose my phone,” she said, all kinds of indignant. “I don’t
lose
anything. I’m a very careful, responsible person.”
    He took in her disheveled dark hair, her pink face and wrinkled clothes. “That’s obvious.”
    She nodded, her expression saying,
damn right
.
    Finally releasing him, she shifted, lifting her hips off the stool in a pelvic thrust that was so awkward, jerky and unsettling, he shut his eyes and tried to erase the memory from his mind. No woman should ever, ever move like that.
    “See?” she continued, dragging her phone from her pocket. She waved it at him and he was surprised she didn’t stick out her tongue and add a triumphant
Ha!
“I told you I didn’t lose it.”
    “Then why did you ask that girl to look for it?”
    Penelope stared at him as if he was as simpleminded as his siblings always accused him of being. “You’re a firefighter, right?”
    “That’s what it says on my shirt.”
    “Exactly. You’re a hero. A real live-action figure. No one has a body like that except firefighters. And maybe marines. I mean...” She gestured at him. “Look at you.”
    The back of his neck warmed. He scratched it. He knew what he looked like. Hell, females had been hitting on him since puberty struck in full force at the age of fifteen. And while he’d admit to having a healthy ego, it wasn’t as big as most people—mainly Maddie—thought. “That’s a little hard to do at the moment. How about I find a mirror as soon as we get you checked out?”
    She rolled her eyes then slapped her hand over them. “Oh, my...did I...did I just roll my eyes?” she whispered.
    “Yep.”
    She groaned, the sound way sexier than it should have been. It was totally inappropriate and unprofessional, but for a moment—a brief, heated moment—his body tensed. Interest, attraction stirred.
    He pushed it aside.
    He didn’t flirt on duty.
    “I hate when people do that,” she said.
    It took him a moment to realize she wasn’t talking about men flirting with her. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, the eye-rolling thing is irritating as hell.” And, luckily, not something Bree had perfected yet. Though a few of the boys he coached on Shady Grove High School’s football team had it down to a science.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, finally lowering her hand. “But you were placating me when I’m trying to make a valid point.”
    He lifted her wrist, pressed his fingers against her pulse, tried to focus on the steady rhythm and not on how soft, how warm, her skin was. “Which is?”
    She exhaled in exasperation, her breath washing over his cheek. “You’re trained to do heroic things, like run into burning buildings when everyone else is smart enough to run out.” She edged closer and under the cloying, lingering scent of propane, she smelled sweet, like lavender. “Leo, I want you to play hero for me.”
    Though her words were throaty and cajoling, he doubted, very much, that she meant it the way it sounded. Which was fine. He wasn’t interested in her. Yeah, she was pretty enough with her dark complexion and light eyes and that little mole next to the right corner of her mouth.
    Okay, maybe he was a little bit interested. He wasn’t dead, after all. And the image her words created in his mind—one of him, shirtless in only his uniform pants and suspenders, standing next to a bed where she reclined in a fire-red teddy that ended high on her tanned thighs—took