The door shuts behind me and Caleb is gone. I suspect he will stay behind it for a minute to make sure I don’t bolt.
The house is quiet, but I still tiptoe through the hallway. I peek out the kitchen window before letting myself come into full view from the large living room windows. I can’t see Ward anywhere in the yard.
I sneak closer to the window and look in both directions, under the porch, still nothing.
“Are you here to kill me?”
“Ahh!” I jump and spin around, coming face to chest—bare, sweaty chest—with Ward.
So much for making an entrance. I’ve been caught off guard twice already and I haven’t even approached the looming conversation yet. A conversation that would be so much easier if he were wearing a shirt.
“Sorry,” he says, bringing my attention to his face, which is every bit as gorgeous as his bare chest.
My cheeks warm and I clear my throat. I came here to talk. I should probably do that now.
“I promise I wasn’t creeping, even though it looked like that. Caleb kind of pushed me in through the garage. I didn’t know you were going to be…” I motion to his chest, and his eyebrows tug up. “You know, declothing yourself.” I swallow.
“As I recall, the last time you enjoyed it so much you filmed it,” he says with a shrug and a sexy smirk that makes me want to kiss him.
Who am I kidding? Everything about him makes me want to kiss him.
“Well, I have a problem with it right now. Would you please find a shirt?” My mind skips back to the white v-neck he wore on our first date, which was just as mouthwatering. “Or a sweatshirt. The baggier the better.”
He lifts an eyebrow, a hint of a smile trying to find his lips. “Then will you tell me why you were sneaking around my house?”
I keep my eyes firmly on his. “Yup. Mmhmm. You bet.”
He walks off and I let out a breath. I can do this. I can be honest, lay it all on the line.
I lean against the counter and wait. And wait. I make a full perusal of the living room, and the few pictures, books, and decor in it, but he still hasn’t returned. I head back to where he left me in the kitchen and wait some more, my pulse officially going haywire.
Did he run away?
“Better?”
I turn toward him and nearly swallow my tongue. He’s wearing a white dress shirt with a suit jacket slung over his shoulder.
“Not at all,” I croak and turn, scavenging through cabinets until I find one with a cup. I fill it up and drain the entire thing while he stands there, staring at me.
“Sorry.” He combs a hand through his wet hair. “I had to shower real quick since I’m heading into work soon.”
“Is that the new uniform?” I ask. The fire station would certainly get a lot more calls if all firefighters looked likethat.
He pulls on his suit coat. “No, I’m actually working part-time with my dad. On his housing project.”
I blink. “That’s… great,” I say. He’s doing it, moving on with his life. I’m so happy for him. This is important to him; I can see it in his eyes.
“Can I ask a question now?” he asks, leaning against the counter.
I step to the side, then back to my original spot, like I’m trying to dance with myself. “Um, yes. Sorry. You want to know why I’m here.”Besides to check you out.
“No, that part was pretty obvious.” He grins.
Darn mouth!
“I, um, I wanted to say thank you again for everything you did for Crew and me. And for saving me.”
He frowns. “You don’t need to keep thanking me.”
