Every Little Kiss (7 page)

Her insides flipped, though she worked to keep her emotions in check. Was he asking her out on a date? Almost reflexively, she opened her mouth to say no. It was a word she was used to in her former life. It would roll off her tongue easily, blocking out so many possibilities.

Abe Cameron was not the guy for her. She had her list, after all, and there was no way he was going to be able to hit three of the things on it, never mind five.

“I'm not sure…”

The words faded when his hand did that thing again—palming its way from her shoulder, down her biceps, to her hand. Casey wanted to pull away, to tell him to stop, but she couldn't bring herself to shrug him off. In fact, when his fingers grasped hers again, she nearly sighed. It was as if part of her had been missing his touch since the elevator, and somehow this felt like home again.

It made her think that Abe Cameron might be able to hit more items on her list than she thought. What had the ladies at the Knots and Bolts exchange called him? A serial monogamist.

That was the kind of man her list needed, surely.

Except that was crazy.

Wasn't it?

“I—I'm sorry,” she stammered, “I really can't.”

Abe arched a dark blond brow. “Because you have other plans?”

She wanted to fire back—to tell him her reasons were none of his business and to leave it at that—except she couldn't form the words. She had no excuses.
None.

Abe was a handsome man with a good job and a long history of getting into women's pants without getting committed. She could do a lot worse.

Then again, she
would
do a lot worse if the wrong man came into her life and brought out all the personality traits that she was trying to change in herself.

“I need to use the weekend to catch up on some work,” she said. “It's the end of the fiscal year, and there's a mountain of financials to compile.” At least it wasn't a lie.

Abe tilted his head at her. She noticed how perfectly shaped his ears were. The men she dated—okay,
man
if you wanted to count Miles, her one serious relationship—had oversized ears that stuck out at odd angles. Not Abe.

Not that they were dating.

Abe pulled out his wallet. It was rich leather worn smooth and creased with time. It looked friendly. Comfortable.

“How about I make an end-of-year gift, then,” he said, pulling out three crisp twenty-dollar bills, “and then technically I'm part of your work. You can lump me in with your fiscal year tally.”

Casey nearly smiled.
Nearly.

“That hardly helps. You're just making more for me to do. Not that we're not grateful for your support. We are. But that's not going to get me out of the office any faster.”

“Maybe because the office isn't the problem.”

Casey stared at him. “That implies
I'm
the problem.”

“To be fair, you
are
overthinking this. But if you insist, then lump me in with your work. Make a connection in your brain and call it good so we can go on a date already.”

He grinned then with enough charm to have her smiling back. When had a man ever tried this hard with her? The answer was never.

Still, this was a terrible idea. Abe Cameron was handsome and tempting and all wrong.

She willed her mouth to form the word
no
. To remember how easy it was to utter that one, final syllable.

Oh, but her body wanted to say yes. An electric current hummed between them. Her insides quaked.

“I can't take your money,” she said. “You'll have to use an official donation form and submit the gift through the proper channels.”

Abe inched closer. Her heart pounded. “Say I do all that. Then will you come to the tree lighting with me?”

“I don't know,” she said, hedging. “This whole outing sounds pretty chaste. Will you at least bring some peppermint schnapps to spice up that cocoa you mentioned?”

She wanted to clap her hands over her mouth. Had she actually just uttered those sentences?

“I'll do more than spice it up. I'm a fireman. I know how to handle heat.” Abe's voice was coarse and thrilling.

Oh, she really had to get out of there. Talk of heat and spices wasn't helping anything. He put his money and wallet away, and she steeled her resolve, ready to go. That was when—with a small tug—he pulled her against him.

Just like in the elevator. Only now they were in Ingrid's office.

Her protests vanished. They were chest-to-chest again, and the delicious thrill of it had her blood pumping.

What was more, his wool coat was layered with his cinnamon scent. She inhaled, wanting to roll around in it. At this rate, forget five: She had a feeling she could write a list with fifty things on it and Abe Cameron would be able to fulfill them all.

Doubt needled her, though. He might be the right type of player, but was he the right type of person?

She thought of a million more excuses—
I have a meeting
or
There are presents to wrap
or
This probably isn't a good idea
—but they stayed far back in her throat. She didn't even dare ask what he was doing when his hands moved to her lower back, climbing upward. If she spoke, he might stop, and that would be the worst disappointment of all. His fingers raked deliciously over her neck, pausing as they cradled her face.

Now I will end this
, she thought when his hands stilled.

Except Abe's skin on her skin felt warm and wonderful.

She suddenly wished she had on more makeup. Had done more with her hair. Had worn something more appealing.

But then again, when had she ever done those things?

Abe stared down at her, his rugged face uncannily handsome. His eyes were full of intensity.

“There's a parade before the tree lighting,” he said. “We'll watch that, too.”

He wasn't asking.

She should be irritated. Instead, it was electrifying.

“Will Santa be there?” she asked. “A parade without Saint Nick is a deal breaker for me.”

“Oh, he'll be there. I'll make sure of it.”

“You can do that?”

“I can get Rudolph and wise men and angels, too.”

His thumb traced her cheekbone. She thought her skin might ignite. “Angels,” she said, “how divine. I didn't realize you were so well connected.”

“There's a lot about me you don't know.”

“For the record, I was fine to keep it that way. You were the one who showed up to Robot Lit with a poinsettia.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. Her insides jumped. “I had a life-altering event and came to see the light. I was like Saul on the road to Damascus.”

She smiled. “Are you saying there was divine intervention so you'd ask me out? I didn't know the heavens cared so much.”

“Make no mistake. The angels were very clear.”

“More angels,” she said, her heart pounding. “It really must be Christmastime.”

“Every time a bell rings, an angel gets a kiss. Isn't that the expression?” His voice was gravel and silk.

“I don't hear any bells.” Her voice was barely a whisper. Was it her imagination, or had his head moved closer? She felt her lips part, her head tilt.

“Wouldn't you know, I don't need any.”

And with that, he brought his lips against hers in a smoldering kiss hotter than any fire she'd ever known.

Kissing Casey Tanner wasn't just good.

It was epic.

She kissed like a fucking cheetah—wild, hungry, and tireless. It was like she'd been caged for too long and she was finally being set free in the jungle again.

I guess that makes me the jungle
, Abe thought as he tasted her lips, her tongue. He didn't mind being the jungle at all. Especially not when she twisted against him like that.

He hadn't expected this number cruncher with her hair pulled into a messy bun to be so unpredictably sexy. One minute she was wrapping gifts for a white elephant, and the next she had her hands in his hair and was pulling him toward her like she couldn't get enough.

Dear God. What a bonus.

He certainly hadn't planned it this way.

He'd figured he'd drop off the poinsettia (props to Quinn for telling him to bring it when he stopped by the firehouse before heading down) and ask Casey to the tree lighting, maybe catch a little bit of the holiday parade beforehand. One date. Barely even one, since the lighting would take mere seconds, and the cocoa afterward could be slugged down just as quickly if things were going poorly. He was tying up loose ends, really, shoring up unruly emotions that he wasn't sure what to do with. The heart attack hadn't been real—and surely Casey Tanner wouldn't be real, either. Not in the way he wanted her to be.

But here he was kissing her in the middle of Robot Lit, where anyone at any moment could catch them.

It was unbelievable.

And hot as hell.

When was the last time a woman had surprised him? Hell, when was the last time
anyone
had surprised him, frankly?

The best part about it was that Abe was surprising himself. He had started to ask himself what he wanted, and the answers weren't as terrifying as he'd thought.

He flicked his tongue over her lips and she moaned softly. Her flavor was beguiling, like honey and something richer. Vanilla, maybe.

He was rock hard. He pressed his erection against her so she knew, without a doubt, what she was doing to him. She hissed in breath. Then pulled him closer.

He was prepared to kick Ingrid's door closed and make out with her for hours when the distant beep sounded in his ears.

They broke apart reluctantly. Casey's lips were shining, her expression still one of hunger. She looked tousled. She looked
perfect
.

The beep kept sounding. He blinked and smelled smoke. And that was when it hit him. Logic broke through his lust-addled brain. It was a smoke detector in the building going off.

And something was already burning.

W
hen the smoke alarm sounded, Abe's eyes lost their hungry look so quickly that Casey wondered if she'd imagined their make-out session again—just like she'd perhaps imagined his gentleness in the elevator. But in its place was an urgent concern that was all too real.

“Follow me,” he said over the noise. He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the office. He didn't even pretend to walk. His long lope had her sprinting to keep up.

They tore into the tutoring room, where a handful of kids were pulling on coats and gathering backpacks. Rolf and Ingrid were attempting to herd them all toward the stairs.

Abe pushed past Rolf to yank open the door to the stairwell. When he disappeared momentarily, Casey's heart sank. Had he just left them?

But seconds later, he was back. “The stairwell is clear,” he said, chest heaving, “I smell smoke from somewhere, though.” He turned to Ingrid. “We need to get these kids out of here. Casey, call nine-one-one—now.”

Casey couldn't help but be impressed by the way he took charge as she phoned in the alarm. Moments later, the group descended the stairs. “How fast can your feet go, kids?” Abe called to them. In the air was a whisper of gray smoke that made Casey's eyes water.

Half a minute later, they were all outside in the bright light of day. “Everyone accounted for?” Abe asked Ingrid. Chewing steadfastly on her pencil, Ingrid did a quick head count and nodded.

“All here.”

Rolf had just started a snowball fight to distract the kids when they heard the sirens starting down Main Street. The fire station was barely two blocks away.

The benefits of living in a small town
, Casey thought. She was about to say as much to Abe, but he was gone. She blinked, looking around, only to catch a glimpse of his dark wool jacket as he went back inside the building.

“What the—?” she muttered.

He might be a firefighter, but he didn't have gear or a hose or anyone with him. Casey glanced down Main Street, where a few of the town's shop owners gathered outside their stores, staring at the fire truck as it pulled in front of Robot Lit.

When the truck stopped, Casey recognized Quinn and Reese, two of the firefighters from earlier in the week. They raced past her to the building's front entrance, just as Abe reemerged. The kids had stopped their snowball fight to stare at the shining engine and the firefighters gathering together.

“It was a smudge of a fire in the basement,” Abe said. “I hit it with a fire extinguisher.”

Relief washed over her. The blaze was out.

“Go ahead and check to make sure it's clear. When you do, I want you to note everything.” Something in Abe's voice made her tune in more closely. “The fire started in a pile of papers that weren't there when we made the call a few days ago. It looked like someone dumped a box.”

“Dumped it and lit it?” Quinn asked, staring up at Abe from underneath her fireman's helmet.

“We don't know until we document and log everything. Just to be safe, secure the scene. And call Ty Brady. He should know about this.”

“There was a fire extinguisher down there? There wasn't before,” Reese said. For the first time, Casey realized just how young he was. He couldn't be that much over twenty.

“Good attention to detail,” Abe said. “Robot Lit got a fire extinguisher recently and new smoke detectors. Without them, we wouldn't have gotten everyone out as quickly. And you'd be battling that blaze right now with hoses.”

Pride washed over Casey. She'd grumbled about installing all of it the day after Abe had shown up at Robot Lit, but it might just have kept everyone safe.

“They worked fast on that,” Reese said. She wasn't sure if he sounded impressed or bummed that he hadn't been able to fight a fire that day.

“They did,” Abe agreed, catching her eye. Casey's cheeks heated, no matter that the rest of her was frozen from being out in the snow and cold without a coat.

“I think it might be a while before we can get back into the building,” Ingrid said, sidling up to her. “You want to take the kids down to the Rolling Pin and call parents from there?”

“I'll go anywhere it's warm,” Casey said, her teeth chattering.

They had just grabbed Rolf and started herding the kids down the sidewalk when Casey felt something heavy descend on her shoulders. She turned.

Abe was right there. And he'd draped his coat over her. His spicy smell was wonderfully close.

“Take it,” he said. “You're freezing.”

“I'm fine—the Rolling Pin is just up the street.” The rest of the group was already moving on without her. She should shirk off Abe's coat and join them.

Except for the fact that she was already warmer, and part of her was thinking she didn't want to take his coat off—ever.

He leaned in, his arm snaking around her. She froze. Was he going to kiss her again? Out in public like this?

Instead, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his cell and wallet. “I can't trust you with my credit cards. You might rack up charges for Internet porn.”

He was as stone-faced as ever. Even when a brittle wind whipped past them, he barely flinched. Casey burrowed deeper into his coat, feigning disinterest. “It's your phone I would want more. I could have texted all your contacts to tell them you were being treated for erectile dysfunction.”

Abe stepped closer, towering above her. “We both know I don't have that problem,” he growled into her ear. His breath was deliciously warm. Casey's knees weakened. Then, to her surprise, he nipped her lobe before pulling away.

Oh, he was good.
Practiced. The thought made her muscles tighten.

“The inspector may need to contact you about the fire,” he said, pressing buttons on his phone. “I'll need your digits to pass along.”

“You sure it's not so you can text me what time you're going to pick me up for our chaste date on Sunday?”

She flipped her hair.

Since when did she flip her hair?

“Absolutely not,” Abe said, holding up a hand solemnly. “I'm a professional.”

“A professional fibber, maybe.” She grinned.

“Digits please, miss. As an public servant of Dane County, I can tell you it's obstruction if you don't provide them.”

Casey laughed. “Then you may have to handcuff me and take me away.”

At the word
handcuff
, something dangerous and wild flashed across Abe's face. It was a look that had desire surging just under her skin. She thought of the five things on her Christmas list and how she was decidedly ready for something more adventurous.

She was beginning to believe Abe could certainly check them off. The Knots and Bolts crew had seemed to indicate he was capable. And if what they said was true, then he wouldn't want any kind of long-term commitment, never mind a ring or a family.

Which meant Abe Cameron was suddenly a very good candidate for her five things. If only he was a little more easygoing. A little more fun. Someone who wouldn't have her tripping over her old ways.

This man is the opposite of what you need
, an inner voice reminded her.
In every possible way.

Except he didn't feel that way. Not right now, anyway, with his ruggedly handsome face staring down at her and the feel of his breath still lingering on her skin.

“Phone number.” He spoke the words firmly.

She gave it to him. When he slid the phone back into his pocket, he rewarded her with the tiniest of smiles. “See you Sunday.”

“See you then,” she said, and headed off to the Rolling Pin with Abe's heavy coat pulled around her body.

She couldn't be sure, but she thought she could feel his eyes on her back long after she'd started walking away.