Page 17 of Love Songs (Harmony Lake #3)

“EARTH TO HOLLY.”

I jerked out of my mind’s constant replay of last night with Dallas, the mental gears grinding as they switched to the here and now. I winced and looked up to see Whittaker watching me with conflicting expressions of concern and humor on his face.

“What?”

“You’ve been standing there staring into space for the last ten minutes.” Whittaker waved at my hand. “Polishing the same spot.”

“Oh.” I glanced at the engine’s bumper. Yep . That one spot was super shiny. “Just thinking about the hella wicked trails I’m going to hit on my bike this weekend.”

“Right,” Whittaker said with a dubious note in his voice. He wiggled his eyebrows. “Or thinking about a certain rock star you’ve been seen hanging out with.”

“Funny,” I deadpanned, but there was no way I was going to tell him I was still thinking about waking up in bed with Dallas this morning, or about the sinuous way his body moved when I rocked into him, or the sounds he made every time I drove him to the edge and back, or the way he’d shouted when we came together.

I’d had a lot of great sex. But last night, and twice this morning, with Dallas had been unexpectedly mind-blowing. Scratch that. Beyond mind-blowing.

“Are we talking about Conor dating Dallas Blade?” Jackson asked when he walked into the apparatus bay.

“Oh my God.” I threw my arms up. “There is no dating. I am not dating Dallas Blade. You two have been spending too much listening to Mrs. Jennings and her crew’s gossip.”

“Well, it’s not exactly gossip,” Jackson said with a shrug. “It’s no secret you two have been seen together all over town since the bachelor auction.”

“We haven’t been all over town .” I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, so what’s the deal?” Whittaker said. I swear, the man was five years older than me but acted five years younger than Jackson.

“No deal,” I said, finding a new spot on the bumper to polish. “I’ve been playing a good host and showing him around is all.”

Jackson snickered like a friggin’ high schooler. “I bet that’s not all you’ve been showing him.”

“Ha-ha,” I intoned. Then lowered my voice and flashed a flirty grin at him. “Wouldn’t you like to see what I’ve got to show.”

Jackson’s eyebrows rose and Whittaker snorted, jabbing an elbow into Jackson’s ribs.

“You walked into that one,” Whittaker teased. His gaze shifted over my shoulder, and he tipped his chin toward the front of the bay. “Well, speak of the devil.”

I followed his line of sight to the open bay doors, and Dallas himself strolled in wearing jeans and an emerald, open-collared shirt under his black jean jacket. He’d pushed his sunglasses up onto his head, which pulled his long hair back from his smiling face.

Fuck, he’s gorgeous .

“Hey, Conor,” Dallas said when he stopped in front of me with a glance over my shoulder at my coworkers. The deep green of his shirt made the brightness in his blue eyes pop—as if they weren’t already electric enough. “Hope it’s okay I dropped by unannounced.”

“It’s all good. Welcome to the CCFD.” My pulse kicked into high gear, words fled, and after what felt like a forever moment of awkwardness as the four of us stood there in silence, I turned to the guys. “Don’t you two have something to do somewhere else?”

Jackson snickered under his breath while Whittaker tapped his fingers to his brow, and the two of them disappeared into the main station.

“What brings you by?” I asked, ridiculously happy to see him, now that the dynamic duo had left us alone.

Dallas shrugged. “I was in town, so I figured I’d drop by and say hi.”

The dog door at the back of the bay swung open and Eldi trotted toward us, her toenails tapping on the polished concrete. She ran straight to Dallas and danced around his legs, her tail wagging a mile a minute, as though he was already her favorite human. Dallas kneeled to pet her.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Dallas cooed, and she slobbered him with kisses.

Yuck . Don’t get me wrong. I loved dogs, and Eldi was one of the best, but dog kisses were nasty. Did he not know where that tongue had been? I grabbed a clean cloth from one of the shelves that lined the bay.

“That’s Eldi,” I said as I handed him the cloth.

“Hello, Eldi,” Dallas said as he took it and wiped his face. “Jay would love you.”

I frowned as something tightened in my chest. Who was Jay and why did Dallas care what he’d think about Eldi.

“Who’s Jay?” I asked, trying hard to sound casual but going by the smirk on Dallas’s face when he looked up at me, I’d failed.

“Jay is short for Jaylin,” Dallas said with a note of pride in his voice and his grin widened. “My daughter.”

“Oh.” I shoved my hands into my pockets and looked away as heat crawled up my neck. “That’s a nice name.”

“It is,” Dallas agreed. “But I didn’t name her.”

No. I remembered he’d said his daughter was fourteen, and he’d only found out about her the year before.

“So, uh. Would you like a tour of the station?” I asked, relieved that he didn’t have a man back home waiting for him and confused that I’d felt jealous at all because he wasn’t mine.

I had no claim on him. Dallas had a whole life that had nothing at all to do with me.

One so far removed from my life that the two could never mesh.

“Sure,” he said, standing and brushing dog hair off his jeans. “I’ve never been inside a fire station before.”

Eldi followed on Dallas’s heels as I showed him our two firefighting vehicles.

“This is our fire engine,” I pointed to the truck I’d been polishing, and then to the one parked beside it that looked similar except for the large hydraulic ladder on top. “And this is our ladder truck.”

“And the one out front?” Dallas motioned to the vintage fire engine.

“That one is for show,” I said. “We usually only roll it out for fairs and fundraisers.”

I opened the driver’s side door of the engine. “Want to hop inside?”

“Hell yeah, I do,” Dallas enthused, his eyes growing wide. “Can I turn on the sirens?”

“Not inside the bay,” I said, my gaze fixed on the way his jeans hugged his firm ass as he climbed up into the cab. “Not unless you want to blast your eardrums out and piss off all the guys.”

“Maybe not then.” He shook his head. “My eardrums take enough abuse on stage.”

I frowned. “Please tell me you wear ear protection.”

“Oh yes,” he said. “But not until it became cool to wear earplugs. Now I wear them all the time.”

“Good.”

He climbed down out of the truck after a few minutes of asking what all the gadgets were for, and I led him to a small room at the back, where we stored all our turnout and duty gear.

The room was small and not meant as somewhere to hang out, but when Sam, Ryan, and Haider came by, we would go in there so we could talk freely without my coworkers overhearing.

“What is—”

I didn’t let Dallas finish asking his question.

Taking advantage of the quiet, private space, I pulled him close to me and kissed him.

I couldn’t wait another second to feel his lips against mine again.

And holy hell, did I need it. I felt like I’d been lost in the desert, and he was my oasis, even though it had only been a few hours since I’d said goodbye that morning.

“How do you always seem to know what I need?” Dallas whispered against my mouth when we broke for air.

“Because I need the same thing,” I said, my voice as low and rough as his. I nipped at his lips. “We better get out of here before I get fired.”

We left the storage room, and I led him across the bay. We passed through the EMT supplies room, where the fire pole punched through the ceiling to the dorms upstairs. He pointed at the shiny silver pole.

“Do you really slide down that when there’s an emergency?” he asked.

“No,” I laughed with a shake of my head. “I used to before my body started to feel the years. But the younger guys use it all the time.”

He looked me up and down and in a low, provocative voice, said, “There is absolutely not a single thing wrong with your body.”

I smiled, appreciating the compliment, but my usual retorts lay silent as my cheeks heated. I worked hard to stay in shape and in good health, and usually deflected words of praise with cocky humor, but coming from Dallas, all I wanted to do was wrap myself around him like a cat and purr.

I cleared my throat, but my voice still cracked when I said, “This way.”

We crossed the hall and entered the day area slash kitchen.

Captain Burgess was sitting in a Naugahyde recliner reading an actual printed newspaper.

Whittaker was sitting on the couch watching some crime drama on TV that he couldn’t get enough of.

Firefighter Shepherd, who’d gone through fire training school with me, was sitting at the kitchen table working on a crossword, and Jackson was rummaging through the kitchen cupboards, no doubt looking for unhealthy snacks.

I didn’t know how the guy stayed so fit when he was always munching on something no good for him.

All heads turned to us with varying expressions of curiosity.

“Hey, everyone.” I waved toward Dallas. “I’m sure you’ve all heard of Dallas Blade.”

They all nodded and waved back with hellos. I turned toward Dallas.

“You’ve met Jackson.” I motioned toward him, and then to the rest of the guys. “And this is Captain Burgess, and firefighters Whittaker and Shepherd.”

“Hey, Dallas,” Jackson said, hiding something behind his back, but not before I saw the telltale Pop Tarts label. I didn’t even know those still existed, let alone that he’d found one in our kitchen. “It’s so cool to see you here.”

“Hi. Thanks.” Dallas whistled as his gaze bounced around the large room. “This is a nice kitchen.”

“When you’re on a twelve-hour shift, you spend a lot of time cooking or learning to cook,” I said. “Speaking of food, would you like to stay for lunch?”

“If that’s okay?” he looked to the guys, who all nodded, and back to me with an easy smile that seemed shy and only for me. “I would like that.”