Lifting up a hand, she held his fingers to her face. “Taking care of people.” She turned her mouth into his palm and kissed it, then let out a shuddery sigh. “And you know what else?”

He was absolutely certain that the look in her eyes should not make his heart soft. Or that the feel of her lips on his palm make the rest of him the very opposite of soft. “What, that you talk too much for a woman who should be resting her vocal chords?”

“No.” A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “I was going to say the way you shoved to the front of all those other firefighters to get to me was really sexy.”

He sighed.

“And also, you’re cute when I make you squirm.” She actually laughed softly. “I have more chips at home.”

“Oh, goodie.”

“And a heavenly ranch dip.”

“You’re going to kill me.”

“Yeah.” Her eyes were still closed. “It’s really a shame I’m too messed up to take advantage of you tonight, Joe. This newfound quiet sarcasm you have going turns me on.”

She thought she was messed up? She should jump into his head. “Yeah, too bad.” And he put the Camaro in gear and drove her home.

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The engine of the Camaro lulled Summer as Joe drove. It felt good not to move, but the problem with drifting off into la-la land was that it all came back to her in vivid detail.

Waking up in the beanbag chair.

Surrounded by smoke.

Facing her nightmare.

She’d been saved by the grace of her cell phone. As long as she lived she’d never forget the long breathless wait for the sirens, which in reality had probably been only a few minutes, but had seemed like an eternity.

Trapped.

And all she’d been able to think about as the smoke filled the room around her, as she’d finally been forced to lie flat on the floor for any air at all, was that she couldn’t die, not like this, not like her father. She hadn’t lived enough, damn it. Granted, she’d lived hard and good and well, but not enough.

She started in surprise when Joe scooped her up. She hadn’t even realized he’d turned off the engine, or heard him come around and open the passenger door, but now here she was, in his arms, being carried toward her front door.

He felt warm and comfortably solid, and so achingly familiar she wanted to hold on tight and never let him go.

“Keys?”

She frowned and tried to think, but it was beyond her.

“Never mind.” Still holding her as if she weighed nothing, he strode around the back of the small cottage and shouldered open the unlocked back door.

“How did you know?”

“You never used to lock your back door. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Down the hall.”