Page 26 of The Live-In Temptation (Steele Brothers of Starlight Cove #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHLOE

I’d been all over the world. But when I said small towns just did things differently, I meant it.

Because honestly, where else besides Starlight Cove would host an event whose sole purpose was to burn shit?

The Let It Burn Bash looked like the fever dream of a Hallmark executive after too many long hours and not enough sanity breaks.

Lights hung between the lampposts, half a dozen tents were set up filled with refreshments and crafts and personal massagers—that woman would hawk her goods in the grocery store parking lot and actually had—and enough flammable supplies to catalog everyone’s 3 a.m. mistakes.

Kids ran around wearing puffy coats and pelting each other with snowballs while teenagers lit sparklers under adult supervision that was mostly theoretical, and those adults laughed and gossiped and drank spiked hot chocolate.

And at the center of it all was the biggest bonfire I’d ever seen—roaring and wild, crackling high into the February sky as if it wanted to burn straight through the clouds.

Xander had already been here for hours by the time Emma and I arrived, and it took me all of three seconds to spot him in the crowd.

He stood sentinel near the flames, like some kind of brooding fire god.

The only thing that would’ve made it straight out of that Hallmark exec’s fever dream was if he’d been wearing flannel.

His arms were crossed over his chest, his jaw locked, his gaze sweeping over the crowd in a way that was far too sexy for my own good.

As were most things when it came to Xander Steele.

A breeze kicked up, something in the fire snapped with a pop, and suddenly, his eyes were on me.

And I forgot how to breathe.

Just completely and utterly forgot .

Fortunately, before I could make a fool of myself by attempting to hurdle the bonfire just to get closer to him, Emma gasped and squeezed my hand, eyes bright as she stared at the raging inferno in front of us. “It’s huge .”

“That’s what she said.” Mabel popped up on my other side like a vibrator-selling ninja.

She handed Emma a s’mores kit and gave me a quick once-over.

“Look who finally showed up—Starlight Cove’s newest and most requested pleasure party host, the hot fire chief’s favorite temptation, and the only woman to have ever survived the pre-K pasta night without crying in the broom closet. ”

I dipped my head. “Flattered, truly. Do any of these accolades come with a crown?”

“They should. If not them, then the Most Influential Newcomer Award. I don’t think we’ve had someone this entrenched in Starlight Cove after mere weeks since… Nope. You’re it.”

“Really? That seems like an awfully low bar.” Especially because I wasn’t what people would call involved . I kept to myself, stayed on the edges, really tried to?—

“Well, now you’re just being modest. You’re decorating the St. Paddy’s Day Parade float, helping set up for the spring book fair, and hosting whatever the hell this new yoga and goat cheese pop-up is next Tuesday with Luna.”

I raised my brows. “Did I agree to all that?”

Mabel shrugged. “You posted an emoji in the group chat. That’s consent as far as we’re concerned.”

Honestly, that tracked. I’d probably done it when I’d been four glasses deep after girls’ night. But I wasn’t thinking about that. Or the night before it. Or the night before that.

“Also,” Mabel added, as if she were reading off a grocery list, “Christie says thanks in advance for helping with the fairy garden remodel in her backyard. Her kid beheaded two gnomes, and she swears you’re the only person who can bring it back to life.”

“Cool, cool, cool. Gnome triage. I’m on it.”

“Knew you would be.” Mabel flashed me a smile, then stepped aside and swept an arm out in front of her.

“Now, allow me to be the first to welcome you two lovely ladies to Starlight Cove’s finest fire-fueled purge.

We’ve got glitter, booze, and emotional exorcisms that should probably be done by a licensed professional, but sometimes a little fire is all you need. ”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Come on now, you know the Chief won’t let anyone get injured,” she said, a teasing note to her voice that I absolutely refused to acknowledge.

“The theme of the night is letting go of whatever no longer serves you—winter gloom, bad habits, ex-boyfriends. Your dignity if you stand too close to Lincoln’s drink table—or maybe that’s just me. ”

I snorted. “I’m pretty sure he’s heavy-handed with your pours just to see what you’ll do.”

“Well, last year, I burned my bra, so I guess I’ve gotta figure out something to top that…”

“Not your panties, Mabel. Promise me it won’t be your panties.”

“I will do no such thing.”

Emma tugged on my hand with both of hers, bouncing on her feet like a pixie hopped up on an energy drink. “Can we do the crafts now? I want to draw things on the paper logs and burn ’em. Daddy said we can only do it here because he’s spoofervising.”

Mabel snorted and leaned close, whispering out of the corner of her mouth, “Yeah, supervising your ass in those leggings.”

“Mabel,” I hissed, pinning her with a glare.

I was still mad she’d ratted me out to my girl gang, but she just shrugged and shot me a smile as I allowed Emma to drag me in the direction she wanted to go.

We made our way toward a pair of folding tables set up under a canvas canopy.

One was marked DECORATE YOUR LET GO LOGS and the other—clearly thought up by Lincoln—DRINKS THAT BURN.

Declan sat behind the first, expression flat as half a dozen children crowded the space.

Lincoln handled the drink station beside him, shaking something violently in a mason jar while wearing an apron that said Hot Cocoa Daddy across the front.

He shot Emma and me a wide grin. “There’re two of my favorite ladies!”

Declan dipped his chin in acknowledgment. “Welcome to the pit of emotional doom.”

Emma dropped my hand and dove straight for the art supplies, yanking markers from the bin with the ferocity of a trash panda on crack. “Can I draw on you after I finish my log, Uncle Dec?”

He heaved a sigh as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he pushed up his sleeve and offered his tattoo-covered arm to her like a sacrificial lamb. And I definitely saw his lips twitch when she beamed up at him in response.

Lincoln leaned over the space separating the two stations and slid a hot pink concoction toward Emma. The cup was rimmed with crushed candy canes, something neon pink practically glowing from inside, and it was all topped with enough whipped cream to drown a giant.

I narrowed my eyes. “What’s that?”

“My specialty,” he said with a wink. “Made just for the little glitter gremlin in our midst.”

“Should I be scared?”

“Depends.” He pursed his lips. “Do you like sleep?”

Before I could answer, Emma giggled and grabbed for the drink with both hands, bringing it to her mouth without hesitation. She took one sip, her eyes going wide as she practically vibrated in her seat. “ Yummy !”

“It should be.” Lincoln leaned a hip on the counter and grinned. “I call it the Sugar Coma. The base is strawberry soda, then I add two shots of marshmallow syrup, a whipped cream mountain, a candy rim, and enough grenadine to make it glow.”

I blew out a sigh, knowing exactly how this was going to affect our little glitter gremlin. “Xander’s going to kill you.”

Lincoln winked. “Not if we don’t tell him.”

“Not if you don’t tell him what?” The voice came from behind me. Low and rough, like secrets and sex, and the air around me shifted. Crackled.

My body—on account of its hating me—reacted immediately.

Intensely.

Involuntarily.

I turned around slowly, trying not to betray the flutter in my chest that always seemed to be present around Xander Steele and took him in.

He stood there in boots, all six foot four inches of glowering, broad-shouldered perfection wrapped in a black coat stretched tight across his chest. The gray Starlight Cove Fire Department hoodie I’d definitely been wearing while he’d told me how to make myself come peeked out beneath it.

A charcoal beanie was pulled low over his dark hair, and his eyes—God, those eyes—drank me in, sweeping over me from head to toe.

It was a second, really. Just a fleeting moment of time. But that one glance from him made me feel more cared for than I had any right to.

Especially when it came courtesy of my boss.

Thankfully, before my body could literally combust from just that look alone, he turned his attention to his daughter, locking his gaze on the drink in Emma’s hand as if it was a bomb seconds from detonating.

“Linc,” he said, voice sharp enough to cut through four layers of denial and my reinforced no-feelings policy. “What the hell did you give my daughter?”

Lincoln grinned, completely unrepentant. “Don’t worry about it. It’s a secret between an uncle and his nieces. I’m going to give one to Laurel too as soon as that trio gets here.”

“Laurel is sixteen and the size of an adult. Emma is four and weighs all of thirty-five pounds. Jesus Christ, man. Do you want her vibrating through the ceiling?”

Lincoln rolled his eyes. “ Relax . This is her version of Mardi Gras. Let the kid live.”

“Yeah, Daddy! It tastes like a party in my mouth!” Emma took another huge gulp before running circles around Declan.

“I swear to God…” Xander muttered, then pivoted his stare away from his brother and toward me.

And I felt it—just like I always did—that full-body shiver that was as delicious as it was unwelcome.

Especially when he clocked it immediately.

“Why the hell aren’t you wearing a coat?” he barked—part reprimand, part concern he was trying and failing to hide.

“I have layers,” I said defensively, gesturing to my puffy vest, long-sleeved thermal, and knee-high snow boots. “And these leggings are fleece-lined.”

If I thought his quick glances set my body on fire, that had nothing on the slow perusal he gave me now.