Page 7

CHAPTER SIX

When the server appears, Brock politely greets her with that direct but friendly manner he has. He must be a regular here. She knows his name. Without needing to look at the menu, he orders a double jalapeno burger, and Thai Chicken Burger with mild heat.

The young woman looks at him with the whole damned galaxy shining in her eyes.

Yep. He’s hot. Every woman in the place knows it. Chief Mitchell is probably the talk of the town. Especially since the news is talking about his promotion in the former chief’s absence.

After fanning herself with her notepad, she hurries away. I suppress my groan. When I look back at Brock he’s got a satisfied grin on his face. “So, how did I do?”

I give him a little eye-roll, but I’m smiling because I’m impressed. “Maybe you did okay. Obviously, Monica the waitress thought you were amazing.”

That makes him laugh. It’s a deep, warm sound that reaches all the way to my toes. “I didn’t notice Monica. But, I was right, wasn’t I? You don’t like beef.”

I fold my arms and rest my chin on my hands, fascinated to see how he came up with this idea. “You are right, but how did you know?”

“When we had our one and only date, you completely skipped the appetizer list that had beef and went right to the chicken. You ordered something that was a little spicy, but not nuclear, even though you had the option. While we were chatting, you commented on how good the Thai place down the street was.”

I’m more than a little baffled. My eyebrows are halfway to my hairline. “You sure you don’t have a photographic memory?”

“I remembered because I was interested in you.”

Heat blooms somewhere in my bra and creeps up my face. “That made two of us. I… I just couldn’t take the heat.”

He leans back, stretching his right arm out along the bench seat. The material of his sleeve pushes up and reveals more of his tattoo. The way the ink stretches over his biceps makes my knees feel all tingly.

Because the booth suddenly feels claustrophobic, I change the subject.

“You served in the Marines?”

He nods, a look of pride fills his eyes as he takes a breath. “Seven years.”

“What made you get out? ”

“Tamara and Lincoln needed me. It’s hard being the wife of a Marine with a young child. It had a huge effect on her.”

“I’m sure she worried about you.”

Eyes darkening, he says, “It would be impossible not to worry. I always felt bad for wives that were home while their husbands were off in dangerous lands doing dangerous things.”

“It’s a sacrifice for both of you.”

“It was, but I’d do it again in a minute. I believe in the work I did. It saved lives. I was in E.O.D.”

Not surprising he was in Explosives and Ordnance Disposal. High risk. Deadly serious. Challenging. Right in the thick of it. I’m beginning to form a feel for the kind of man Brock is.

The kind of man a person could fall hard for.

That is, if falling was a thing I knew something about. I don’t. Relationships are messy things for other people.

My life needs to stay simple. It’s been complicated enough… hell, it’s still complicated. And my brother moving to Lynn’s Cove in a couple weeks is only going to add to that.

Unfortunately, right now, I find myself totally sucked in.

I also find myself locked in his gaze. Brock’s eyes have this fire in them, I can’t say I’ve ever seen in another man. He’s brimming with life. It’s magnetic.

From the first moment I saw him on our blind date, I knew he was exceptional.

I realize I’ve licked my lips. His eyes have fallen to my mouth. He shoves his hand in his hair making it stand up on end. The dark, dark brown is laced with tiny flecks of silver by his temples. It’s hardly noticeable unless the light is just right, like it is now.

It takes a herculean effort to pull my eyes away and try to get back to the conversation—any conversation to save myself from fantasizing about his body totally naked.

Miraculously, I don’t say something to totally embarrass myself. Instead, I say, “Serving the community as Fire Chief is very honorable.”

He considers that for a moment, his eyes flick away, somewhere far off, outside the window. “I think I’ll like it better when some of these problems get worked out.”

After a crackling silence, I ask, “Am I one of those problems?”

His eyes swing back to me as his dark brows lower. Without hesitation, in a thick voice, he says, “Definitely.”

The noise in the diner fades. All I can hear is my hammering heart. The way he’s looking at me makes me feel seen… but in a totally different way. There’s no panic this time.

“I’m sorry,” I reply quietly. “If you really want me to resign and move on, I’ll look for something else.”

He reaches across the table and wraps his hand around my wrist. It’s gigantic, and the skin is rough. I know the calluses are from his job. That and lifting weights. Which he must do all the time.

His voice is husky, and direct. “No. That would be a mistake.”

“Because of the arson case?”

His expression intensifies. “That too.”

Feeling ridiculously, recklessly bold, I make a ridiculous statement. “If I resigned we could… um, you know…”

Dropping his voice to a whisper, he shocks me. “Fuck each other’s brains out? ”

My eyes boggle a little. “I was going to say go on a date.”

He grins. “I was pretty sure we’re having a date right now.”

We stare at each other for a crackling moment. If this goes on any longer, I’m gonna need to open a window before I combust.

His chuckle is so sexy it’s over the top.

My face heats even more. I glance around to see if anyone else is staring at us. Not a soul is looking in our direction. People are doing their thing. Talking, laughing. Shoving giant burgers in their mouths.

“I thought we just stopped for lunch.”

He leans in, resting his elbow on the table, pinning me with his heated gaze. "So did I, but sitting here, having you look at me like I’m on the menu made me think otherwise.”

Okay. Now my cheeks are flaming. I croak, “Fire extinguisher, please.”

Brock laughs warmly, never looking away. At that exact instant, Monica the waitress shows up. After sliding our plates and drinks on the table, she looks between us with a look of utter disappointment on her young face.

Yes, he's looking at me like I’m going to be dessert.

Snapping her gum, she asks tartly, “That all you two need right now?”

Maybe the fire suppression blanket from the kitchen. Or a personal sprinkler over my head.

Pinching my lips tight, I nod yes. Brock thanks her without looking up, and she scurries off. Her disappointment trailing behind her like a wet blanket.

And I’m left staring at my plate, my pulse flying, with Brock’s eyes burning into me.

“Hey,” he says softly.

I unfold my napkin and make myself really busy getting my silverware ready. “Yes?”

Brock sips from his tea, never taking his eyes from me. Ask me how I know? Because my skin is about to turn bronze under that scorching gaze. I might as well be in Death Valley in August.

“You’re beautiful when you blush.”

Oof. That got me in the stomach. A million little sensations stir in me. I want to say thank you but I’m totally tongue-tied. He grins.

The cocky devil. After a minute, I manage to speak. “I blush easily, don’t pat yourself on the back too much there, Chief.”

“It’s becoming. Now eat. Don’t let me stop you. I’m going to be devouring mine, so there’s no use being afraid to jump in with both feet.”

Oh, I jumped in with both feet alright.

I had no idea when I agreed to that blind date that Brock Mitchell would be so confounding, complicated, and utterly heart-stopping.

Maybe Earth-shaking is the best way to describe it.

I know he’s trying to make me feel more comfortable when he turns the conversation to the arson cases that I worked on in San Diego.

Thank god. I take a breath and concentrate on the thing I’m good at. Remembering facts. Like the exact way his hands felt on my body on that first date.