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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

I’ve worn a hole in the floor of the bunk room when my phone finally rings.

“I’ve been dying over here. How did it go?”

“Come down to the parking lot.” He disconnects.

I scramble out the door and down the steps.

When I get to the parking lot, I skid to a stop. There are four cardboard boxes sitting in the bed of his truck, his personal truck.

He grabs me and kisses me. Hard.

Pushing against his chest, I try to stop him, then give in to the fire he’s setting off in my heart.

He growls against me, kisses me deeper, lifts me clear off the ground.

When he drops me to my feet, I’m so stunned I can’t speak. I whirl around in a circle trying to see if anyone’s watching.

My heart drops to my toes and shatters into a million pieces when I see Reeves, Frank, and Tim standing in the bay door. No one looks happy. They’re all looking right at us.

I whirl on Brock. “What’s going on?”

“I quit.”

What?!?

I’m not really sure what the sound I make is, but it’s a sound of extreme distress.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Everything will be fine.”

“Not. Fine.” I breathe razor blades, trying to understand what I’m seeing. What he’s saying. “You can’t quit. You’re the fire chief.”

He shoves another box into the bed and closes the tailgate with a decisive thud. “Was.”

“But?” I’m dizzy with uncertainty. This can’t be happening.

He loops his arm around my shoulder, turns me toward the truck. “Get in, sweetheart. I’m taking you to look at an apartment.”

My feet are numb. My heart is pounding so hard, that I’m pretty sure Earthquake detectors are going off all over town.

He closes me in the truck and drives me to the small Lynn’s Cove downtown. He parks without saying a word. I’m still speechless and breathing like a maniac.

As I stare at him, he rounds the truck hood with quick strides and opens my door. “Come on.” In a blur, he lifts me from the truck, sets me on my feet, and takes my hand.

He’s walking fast, so I have to hustle to keep up as we walk around the back of the florist shop and up a set of stairs that leads to a large deck. He produces a key from his jeans and unlocks the door, pushing it wide. “All yours.”

I step into the bright, airy space. I’m instantly struck by how beautiful it is. High windows let the light stream in. The kitchen is enormous, all marble, and full of new stainless appliances. The dark hardwood floor is gleaming and perfect. The living room is gigantic.

He nudges me forward gently with his hand on my back. “This is the master.” The bedroom is as big as the living room. Overhead, a crystal chandelier hangs in the center, and the high, arched windows on one side are facing a view of the ocean.

“The other bedrooms are nice, but this one has the best view. And the best bathroom.” I’m floating, unsure if my feet are even touching the floor, as he guides me into the master bath.

A giant tub with jets is angled in the corner. A big glass shower is opposite it. Colorful stained glass covers the window above them, sending a thousand bright pink and red rays everywhere. The counters are white stone, and the accents are beautiful teak wood. It’s like a spa. A personal spa for the lucky person that lives here.

The far wall of the room is covered by a full-length mirror. I’m suddenly frozen looking at our reflection. Brock is standing behind me with his hand resting on my shoulder and a somber look on his face. I look tiny compared to him. I also look like a crazy person. “What’s happening right now?”

“I’m taking care of you. ”

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but I can’t afford this place.”

“You don’t have to.”

I’m sure I’m staring at him like he has three eyeballs. “But you just quit your job.”

“I have other income. I also own the building, so there’s that factor.”

He leans down and presses his nose to the top of my head.

“I’m not sure what universe this is.”

He wraps his arms around me. In a rough whisper that rocks me, he says, “The one where you’re the center.”

Whoa. Talk about knocking a girl flat.

I turn in his arms. “You really are crazy, aren’t you? You should have told me before I got involved.”

“I wasn’t crazy until we were involved.”

He lifts me up, and my legs go instantly around his waist. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

I purr as he takes the cord of my throat in his teeth.

When I don’t answer, he says, “I’m celebrating.”

“Mmmm. Losing your last brain cell?”

He chuckles darkly against my ear, “Claiming you as mine in front of the world.”

“Did you see their faces?”

“You should have seen the mayor's.”

“And you should have seen the counselor's. He almost had a seizure.”

Wiggling me out of my pants, Brock leans in and kisses me hotly. He yanks my shirt off and flicks my bra away with expert fingers. Looking at him sets me on fire. A grin angles his lips as he drags a finger around my nipple. When I groan, he says, “I’m thinking you’ re as crazy as I am.”

“For you,” I whisper.

He fills both his hands with my behind as he kisses me again. I didn’t even realize he’d freed the Louisville Slugger until he drags me against him and angles the head against my throbbing clit.

Looking deeply into my eyes, he says, “You’re mine now and nothing is keeping us apart.”

Then he steals my heart. One stroke. One kiss. One look at a time, until I’m nothing more but a part of him.