Page 7 of The Mountain Man’s Heat (Blue Mountain Burn: The Firefighters of Hartley Ridge #1)

Chapter Seven

Hudson

A hot pressure curls around my chest and sinks down into my groin. Iris dressed in my old brigade T-shirt and track pants is every sexual fantasy I never knew I had.

“Hot chocolate,” I say, holding out a mug shaped like Batman’s cowled head. Another gift from my sister.

Her lips curl, and my heart trips over itself. “Are you a Batman fan?”

I grin. “What male isn’t?”

“Who’s your favorite? Keating, Bale, or Affleck?” she asks, taking the mug from me. Her fingers brush mine, and I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from sucking in a sharp breath. Not just at her touch, but also because of her Batman knowledge. Is it possible to fall in love so quickly?

“I should warn you,” she continues, a playful glint in her eyes, “there is a wrong answer.”

I laugh. “West.”

With a giggle, she lifts the mug to her lips, and I watch her take a sip. Yeah, I’m fucked. I was jealous of Archie earlier, and now I’m jealous of a Batman mug. “So…” she says after licking her lips. “Can you do the Batman dance?”

“The Batusi?” I chuckle and then proceed to perform—badly—the dance from the 1960s Batman TV show. “Hell yeah.”

She bursts out laughing, puts her hot chocolate down, and joins me. Swaying her incredible hips side to side, she holds my gaze as she swipes her fingers across her eyes, dancing to non-existent music.

Christ, I’m in trouble. I want to haul her to my body and make her mine.

Then do it.

We do the absurd dance in perfect sync for moment, our chuckles mingling.

“Dare I ask how you know that?” she asks when we eventually stop.

“I grew up watching the show with my grandfather,” I reply, leaning my arse against the kitchen counter. “He was a geek back when they were still called nerds.” A warm beat of love swells through me. “He was Hartley Ridge’s longest serving firefighter when he retired.”

“Wow, that’s impressive.” Her lips curl as she reaches for her hot chocolate and raises the mug to her mouth. “So knights in fire-resistant synthetic run in the family?”

I beam. “You could say that. Although Dad was an arson investigator in Sydney for years before he retired and came back here.”

“Was?”

“Unfortunately, he died two years ago. I’m the only McKinney in Hartley now.” Pain sheers through me, but I ignore it. Bored with retirement, Dad became a volunteer firefighter and died when a bushfire he was fighting encircled him. My mother never recovered. Maybe I didn’t either.

Sympathy etches her face. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good. My sister comes back from time to time. She lives in London. Plus, there’s a memorial plaque for Dad at the station and a photo of him and my grandfather in the office, so it’s like they’re still here. I’ll show you tomorrow, if you like? After breakfast?”

A stillness falls over her, and I swallow. I’ve just implied we’ll still be together in the morning. That instead of taking her and Archie back to her aunt’s place as soon as possible, we’d be eating together and then venturing into town.

As if on a date.

“I mean—” I begin.

“I’d like that,” she says, her voice soft. She takes a sip of hot chocolate and then frowns. “By the way, Archie is asleep on your bed. I’m sorry about that.”

A hot pulse fills my cock, and a rush of pleasure heats my blood. She changed in my bedroom. The thought of her taking off her clothes near my bed…

“It’s okay.” I let out a chuckle. “You’ll find out for yourself later how comfortable it is.”

She blinks.

I scrunch up my face. “I mean, when you share it later. With Archie. Not me.” I drag my hands down my face, shake my head, and give her a sheepish grin. “Can I just start this whole conversation again? I’m failing at it spectacularly.”

“Oh no.” The edges of her eyes crinkle as she laughs. Her dimples flash again. “I’m enjoying it too much.”

I snort.

“But no.” She shakes her head. “You don’t need to give up your bed for me. I can sleep on the sofa. I’m used to couch surfing. You might have to sleep with Archie, though. I got the feeling he’s not moving.”

The thought of her sleeping rough stirs a dark tension in me.

A powerful need to protect her, keep her safe forever, give her a bed— my bed…

forever—tightens my chest. I want to tell her she never has to couch surf again.

I want to know why she needs to? “I tell you what,” I say instead, “when it comes time for sleep, I’ll paper-rock-scissors you for the right to the bed. ”

Lips twitching, she narrows her eyes. “Hmm…”

“Trust me.” I grin.

With a soft chuckle, she nods. “Okay.”

She takes another sip. I watch her. Her eyes find mine. Holds them. I swallow.

“Thank you,” she says, the words almost a whisper.

“For?”

“For not asking why I couch surf.”

My throat thickens. “If there is anything I can do to help?—”

“I’m a full-time student,” she says, tucking a strand of ringlets behind one ear.

“Film and TV special effects makeup. Tuition fees are ridiculous, and accommodation in Melbourne isn’t cheap.

Plus, the rental market is ludicrous at the moment.

And I…” She pauses, and an unreadable tension falls over her.

“I had to leave my job a little while ago. So I crash out on friends’ sofas.

” She shrugs. “It’s not ideal, but it’s okay. ”

“Have you thought of moving north?” I ask before I realize I’m saying it.

She grows still, glancing over her shoulder. “I hope it’s okay I put my wet clothes in the bathroom?”

A prickling heat crawls over my scalp, and I force out a relaxed laugh, even as I’m a knotting mess of guilt and self-disgust inside. Whatever charged energy I think is between us, it’s not. She’s making it very clear. I’m being a creep.

I need to control myself.

“It’s okay,” I reply with a loose smile. I make a show of checking my watch. “In fact, given the time?—”

“I’m not tired,” she murmurs, shaking her head. “I…”

She takes a step toward me. Licks her lips.

A hot, tight pressure clamps around my chest. My balls suddenly ache. “You what, Iris?”

She takes another step to me. Bites her bottom lip this time and slowly, slowly reaches out and brushes her fingers over my jaw. “I this , Hudson,” she whispers and rises up onto tiptoe, and touches her lips to mine.