He reached down and cranked up the volume, listened for a minute, and then shook his head. “No. Not my unit.”

She let out a breath. She’d given thought to what his life as a firefighter meant to her—terror. But she’d not thought about what it meant for him, being on call, constantly at the ready to literally jump into the fire, carrying the burden of all the responsibilities that went with it, like saving lives.

On a good day she felt overwhelmed by her life. She couldn’t even imagine carrying the weight he did. Reaching over him, she pumped some shampoo into her hand.

His gaze ran the length of her arm just over his head and then met her gaze.

His eyes were hot.

Ignoring both him and her reaction to him, she sudsed him up. His eyes drifted shut, and his entire body relaxed. As she gave him a scalp massage, he let out a low groan from deep in his throat.

“You have great hands,” he said.

She should have known it. He had managed to con her into a skull massage. She held her tongue until she finished and brought him back to her station. Standing behind him, she ran her fingers through his wet hair. His perfectly cut wet hair that was so evenly matched on both sides she could have used it to set a ruler. Then, hands on hips, head tilted, she met his gaze in the mirror.

“Busted,” he said, not looking the least bit embarrassed or sorry.

“You could have just asked for a wash,” she said.

“Nah, this was way more fun.”

She opened her mouth but his radio went off again, and though his eyes remained on her, he was clearly concentrating on the radio and the garbled words she could barely make out.

Then suddenly he stood, all joking and good humor gone from his gaze. “Gotta go,” he said.

“You’re still wet.”

“No worries.” He shook his head like a big dog and then, shoving his hand into his pocket, came up with cash.

Lily pushed his hand away. “No.”

“I pay my debts.”

“Not this time,” she said.

His eyes landed on hers as one of his hands slid to the nape of her neck. “Think of me.” Lowering his head he gave her one quick, hard kiss. “Later,” he said against her mouth, and then he was gone.

“Good sweet baby Jesus,” Jonathan said from the hall behind her.

She turned to find him fanning himself. “It’s not what you think,” she said.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because what I think is that man is sex on two legs. He wears that firefighter uniform like nobody’s business. Well, except maybe his brother Hudson. Cuz Hudson looks pretty damn fine in his as well. I mean, when he strides toward me with that gun on his hip …” Jonathan gave a full body shiver.