Page 11 of Let it Burn (Playing with Fire #1)

Lena

Three blissful years later

I push open the firehouse door, the scent of engine oil and burnt coffee hitting me before it even swings shut. It’s familiar now. It smells like home.

Balanced on my hip is Savannah—two years old, curly-haired, all sass and sticky fingers.

She’s clinging to her bunny in one hand and smearing chocolate on my shirt with the other.

The Tupperware of still-warm cookies rests in my free hand, already a little lopsided from her attempts to sneak one during the drive.

I only baked them for one man.

My husband, Zeke.

I spot him before he sees me—standing near the engine, laughing at something Maddox says.

His turnout pants hang low on his hips, suspenders stretched over a tight white tee that hugs his broad chest like a second skin.

His jaw’s scruffy, hair a little messy from the morning drill.

And I swear to God, he’s never looked sexier.

“Delivery for the world’s hottest firefighter,” I call, hoisting the container up as Savannah lets out a delighted “Daaaaddy!”

Four heads swivel in our direction. Levi, the fire chief, raises an eyebrow. “You talking about him?” He jerks a thumb toward Zeke. “Must be the uniform. That thing gives people delusions.”

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Levi.” Zeke’s already moving toward us, smiling wide, and he takes Savannah from my arms like she’s the best gift in the world. “Hey, baby girl,” he murmurs, nuzzling her chubby cheek. “You bringing cookies and kisses today?”

Savannah smacks a loud one onto his cheek and squeals with joy as he swings her up. My heart does that stupid little flutter it always does when I see them together.

Then Zeke leans in to kiss me—slow, soft, like we’ve got all the time in the world. I melt into him instantly, like always.

Byron groans. “Jesus. Again with the PDA?”

Maddox snorts. “If I see tongue, I’m walking out.”

I grin, resting my hand on Zeke’s chest. “Ignore them. They’re just bitter I didn’t bring cookies for everyone.”

“Excuse me?” Levi protests.

I hold up a hand. “I did say I baked them for the hottest firefighter. I stand by my choice.”

That earns a chorus of groans and exaggerated grumbling. Zeke just smirks, balancing Savannah effortlessly on one arm as he opens the box and pulls out a cookie. He takes a bite, eyes fluttering closed like it’s the first good thing he’s tasted in weeks.

“Damn, baby. These are sinful.”

“I know.” I trail a finger over the front of his tee, over the ridges of his abs. “Almost as sinful as how you look in this shirt. I mean—did you do push-ups just to mess with me?”

His brows lift. “Are you flirting with me in front of our daughter?”

“She can’t understand innuendo yet.”

Savannah, as if on cue, shoves a cookie crumb in Zeke’s ear and giggles. He chuckles, brushing her sticky fingers away.

Behind us, Maddox groans. “Get a room. Just not the one with the oxygen tanks again.”

“I can’t make any promises,” Zeke says, grinning as he hands Savannah off to Maddox, who immediately gives me a panicked look.

“She’s sticky. And chatty.”

“She’s your problem for the next ten minutes,” I tell him sweetly, then press my hand to Zeke’s chest. “Because Daddy and I have some important business to attend to.”

Zeke’s hand finds the small of my back, his thumb stroking just above the waistband of my jeans. “You came at the perfect time. Shift change. Levi’s distracted. Byron’s pretending not to care. Maddox is clearly already suffering.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Five-minute break?”

“You’d be amazed what I can do in five minutes.”

His voice dips, sending a ripple of heat down my spine. I’m already smiling.

“Broom closet?”

He smirks. “You read my mind.”

We slip down the back hallway, his hand still on my waist like he can’t not touch me. It’s ridiculous how easily we fall into this rhythm. Married three years, toddler in tow, and he still looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world worth seeing.

He closes the door behind us and the second it clicks, I’m in his arms. His mouth crashes into mine—hot, hungry, familiar in all the right ways. His hands tangle in my hair. My thighs wrap around his waist as he lifts me onto the storage shelf like he’s done it a hundred times before.

“God, you smell like sugar,” he growls against my neck. “You taste like heaven. You drive me absolutely fucking insane.”

I thread my fingers into the collar of his shirt. “You always say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He trails kisses down my throat, right to the spot that makes me gasp. “You’ve wrecked me, Lena. You always have.”

I shiver, heart pounding, body humming from the sheer force of his attention. But this time, it’s more than just heat.

“I came here for another reason,” I whisper against his lips.

He stills, hands warm and steady on my hips. “Yeah?”

I nod. “I have something to tell you.”

He pulls back just enough to search my face. “Bad or good?”

I smile and take his hand, guiding it to rest against my belly.

“Good. Really, really good.”

It takes him a moment.

Then his eyes widen, and his breath catches. “You’re…”

“We’re having another baby, Zeke.”

For a second, he just stares. Then he lets out this laugh, the one that sounds like it breaks free from somewhere deep in his chest, and pulls me into the kind of kiss that has me forgetting where we are entirely.

When he finally pulls away, his hands stay on my waist like he doesn’t trust the world not to steal me. “What did I do to deserve this?” he murmurs, voice rough.

“You deserve every bit of it. You gave me safety, love, a home. You gave me Savannah. You gave me this baby. You saved me, Zeke.”

“No,” he whispers back, forehead resting against mine. “You saved me right back.”

He kisses me again, slower this time, like he’s trying to memorize the moment. And then he pulls away with that signature grin.

“A baby, huh?”

“A baby.”

He groans playfully. “Now I’ve gotta share you even more?”

“You already do,” I tease. “With your firehouse. And your daughter. And the damn cookies.”

Laughing, he grabs my hand. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go tell the boys.”

We walk back down the corridor, and Savannah is happily babbling to Maddox about “giraffes and babies and cookies.” Maddox looks mildly traumatized. Levi catches sight of our joined hands and lifts a brow.

“Good news or trouble?” he asks.

Zeke scoops Savannah back into his arms and kisses the top of her head. “Depends. Anyone want to be an uncle again?”

Levi drops his clipboard.

Byron mutters, “Called it.”

And Maddox, still brushing cookie crumbs off his shirt, says, “I hope it’s another girl. You deserve more chaos.”

I laugh, heart full, hand still tucked in Zeke’s. The firehouse is loud, imperfect, and full of men who love us like we are family. And we are.

And just like that, my world feels perfectly whole.