Sweet Heat (7 page)

“Get some rest. I’ll see you later.”

She was pretty sure he was asleep before she even got the door closed.

Despite it being the last, and most hectic day of the conference, Suzanne’s smile didn’t falter all day. Clara even commented on it.

“Someone’s chipper this morning.”

Heat crept up Suzanne’s neck as she shrugged, working to keep her face from splitting into an even wider grin. “Woke up on the right side of the bed, I guess,” was all she said, because ‘I made out with a gorgeous fireman after he cooked me breakfast, and I plan on doing it more later when I get home,’ seemed like a bit of an overshare. She and her boss weren’t that close.

She tried to tone done the perma-grin after that, and had a little success, especially when her desk phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey, babe.”

Warmth bloomed in her belly at the sleepy rough sound of Brandon’s voice. She glanced at the clock. “You awake already? I’m still here for a couple more hours.”

He groaned, and she could imagine him stretching, all those cut muscles flexing and sliding beneath his tan skin. Her mouth went dry.

“I know,” he said. “But if I sleep all day, it’ll screw up my sleep cycle worse than if I get up now. This way, I’ll be tired at something approaching a reasonable hour tonight.”

“Ahh, okay. That makes sense.” She bit her lip. “So… it looks like I’ll probably be here until six-thirty or seven tonight.” She winced a little, wondering if she was going to see the less laid back, more pissed off side of Brandon. She’d said she was going to be a bit late when she left that morning, but two hours was hardly a ‘bit’.

She heard water running and the clink of dishes. Was he washing the breakfast dishes? Her heart squeezed.

“Aww, I’m sorry, babe. But at least it’s Friday.”

Suzanne fiddled with a paperclip binding a stack of applications. “You’re not mad?”

The few boyfriends she had had in the past always hated when she worked late. The internship was not the first job she’d thrown herself into, working extra hours and pulling more than just her own weight. That’s just the way she was.

Brandon’s low chuckle blended with the burble of the water. “Nah. I mean, I’d rather see you sooner than later, of course. Don’t get me wrong. But I knew you were gonna be extra busy this week, and you did mention you’d be late this morning.”

“It’s not just this week,” she blurted. She didn’t know why she felt the need to bring this up now, but for some reason she felt like she had to point out what had always been one of her biggest flaws. Brandon seemed to have missed all her other ones. She felt a little frantic.

She could almost see his frown when he replied. “What’s not just this week?”

“I mean… I’m sort of a workaholic.” She sucked in a breath now that it was out there, chewing her lower lip.

Brandon snorted. “Yeah, believe it or not, I kind of figured that out when you told me about working through your birthday. Twice.”

Suzanne closed her eyes, but laughed softly. “I think it was three times, actually.”

“Trust me, I get it. It’s not like I work a regular nine-to-five either. If it becomes an issue, we’ll figure it out, yeah? No need to borrow trouble.”

She released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She was used to things being much more of a fight. In the circles she’d grown up in, managing expectations and being in control of every situation was the modus operandi. ‘Wait and see’ was not a common philosophy.

“Right. So, what should I get for dinner? There’s a great Peruvian place between 43
rd
and 44
th
.”

“Actually, I was thinking maybe I’d cook us something. If that’s cool with you?”

Warmth wrapped around Suzanne’s heart like one of Brandon’s big hands and gently squeezed. “You’re asking me if it’s okay if you cook for me again? You do realize ‘gorgeous fireman cooking for me’ is on pretty much every straight woman’s list of fantasies, right?”

“Oh, yeah? Should I go get my turnout gear?” He was teasing, but she could hear an undercurrent of huskiness.

An entirely different kind of warmth curled through Suzanne’s chest at the thought of Brandon decked out in his gear, like one of those calendars. She swallowed against the sudden tightness of her throat.

“Um…” It came out a squeak. She coughed, a blush burning her cheeks. “No. I don’t think I’m quite ready for that yet.”

If she came home and he was wearing his uniform, she’d probably climb him like he was playground equipment and she was a sugared-up toddler.

Brandon’s low, sexy chuckle played over her nerves like velvet on her skin. “We’ll save that for the fifth or sixth date then.”

Suzanne shivered, thinking both about the prospect of further dates with him… and what they might hold. “Yes, let’s.” Her voice came out breathy.

There was a moment of total silence on the other end of the line. She could hear the soft sound of Brandon’s breathing, and the rush of the water in her sink, but nothing else. Then he cleared his throat, and she wondered what he’d been thinking about. She squirmed in her chair, her breathing picking up but, thankfully, Brandon took mercy on them both and changed the subject.

“So, I’ll aim for dinner to be ready around eight?”

She blew out a breath. “Yeah, that would be great. If it looks like I’m going to be later, or earlier, I’ll let you know. I don’t think that’s going to happen, but I’ll keep you posted.”

Suzanne tried to picture him standing in her kitchen, in the faded jeans and tight white t-shirt he’d been wearing when she left, doing dishes. Blond hair rumpled from sleep, his phone tucked against his shoulder, up to his elbows in suds, his shirt wet and clinging to his chiseled abs.

The image that popped into her head was a mix between ‘awww’ and ‘
damn
’.

“Sounds good, babe. Is it alright if I check through your cabinets? See what you’ve got that I can work with? Just in the kitchen. I won’t snoop, I promise.”

“Oh, yeah.” With effort, she pushed the tantalizing mental snapshot away and focused on what Brandon was saying. “Of course. Make yourself at home. There’s a grocery down on Adams, if you need something I don’t have. Or call if you want me to stop on the way.”

The water turned off and a second later Suzanne could hear him opening and closing cupboards. “Making something out of what’s available is a skill that comes in handy down at the firehouse. Looks like your kitchen is reasonably well stocked. I’m sure I can manage.”

She knew the thought of him rifling through her kitchen, inhabiting that space that she so rarely used except to reheat take-out, should freak her out. They’d been on two dates, and that’s if you called breakfast earlier that morning a ‘date’, which was dubious at best. She shouldn’t be so comfortable with the idea of him in her space.

But she was.

And not just comfortable; it gave her a warm, tingling buzz under her ribs. That part made her a little uneasy. It felt a lot like an emotion she should not at all be feeling yet.

What had Brandon said? ‘Don’t borrow trouble’? Suzanne held on to that thought and said what she was thinking.

“I’m really looking forward to tonight.” Her mouth had curled into another wide grin. On the other end of the line, Brandon made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan.

“
Babe
,” he replied, his intonation giving the word extra weight. “Yeah.”

Her heart spun like a top. Such simple words. Maybe not the most eloquent. But with them, Brandon made it abundantly clear he was just as excited as she was.

They said their goodbyes and hung up. As soon as she’d put down the receiver, Suzanne couldn’t resist pumping her fist and giving a quiet, “Yes!”

“I told you there was still hope.” Christine slid into Suzanne’s office and plopped down in the chair opposite her.

Suzanne blinked, surprised by her friend’s sudden appearance. Or maybe it wasn’t sudden, maybe Christine had been right there listening in and she just hadn’t noticed her. That was entirely possible, considering how focused she’d been on Brandon.

“What?”

Christine snort-laughed, nodding at the phone. “Antoine. I guess he grew on you after all, huh?”

Suzanne’s brow crinkled in a frown as she glanced from the phone to her friend. Then Christine’s words registered and flames of embarrassment crept up her cheeks.

“Oh. No. That was… not Antoine.” Honestly, she’d barely thought about the judgmental Wall Street compliance officer, aside from being thankful that his calls had finally tapered off. She would no doubt hear about it from her mother the next time they spoke at any length, but she’d avoided that for most of the week too.

Her friend’s plucked brows rose sharply. “No? Who was that then?”

The heat in her cheeks intensified. She chewed her lower lip. Suddenly, she didn’t want to admit to her friend that the hot fireman who’d come in to pay his bill last week was at her apartment right now. Not that she was ashamed or embarrassed, but what was happening between them was still so new and she found she was almost superstitiously worried that she’d jinx it somehow. Like, say, by bragging about how she had a hot firemen waiting for her at home.

Christine’s eyes got wide. “Oh my God, Suzanne!”

“What?” She couldn’t maintain eye contact. Instead, she dropped her gaze to her nails, trying to decide if she needed a manicure. Not that she wore polish much, but she liked to keep them neat and sometimes wore a clear coat.

Christine leaned over the desk and hissed in a not-very-quiet whisper. “Are you boinking one of the bosses? Who is it? Jameel Carter? Ryan Waterston? You total slag!”

Suzanne cupped her hand over the other woman’s mouth, her eyes darting toward her open office door. “Christ! Keep your voice down!”

When her friend held up her hands in surrender, Suzanne released her and sat back in her chair. “And no, I’m not sleeping with one of our bosses. Ryan Waterston? Really? He’s old enough to be my
grandfather
, Chris!”

Christine ran her fingers through her ink black hair and leaned back in the chair. “Well, then what’s with all the secrecy? Who’s the honey who has you all stammering and blushing?”

Suzanne blew out her breath. She didn’t know she was so reluctant to talk about Brandon. It was silly. They’d gone on a couple dates. Well, one and a half. And yeah, it was incredible and amazing and…

And that’s why she was trying to avoid talking about it with her friend. Because the words that came to mind when she thought of the buff blond were… well, the term was ‘gushing’. And Suzanne didn’t gush.

“It’s Brandon,” she finally blurted, watching Christine’s face. “Fleming?”

Christine’s thin brows wrinkled and she tilted her head to the side.

Suzanne sighed. “The hot blond who came into your office last week to pay his bill?”

She saw the moment her friend recalled exactly who she meant. Christine’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. She rubbed her palms together, glee sparkling in her gaze.

“That huge hunk of delicious man who couldn’t take his eyes off you? This is good! Tell me everything!”

Suzanne shook her head. “Oh, no. I am not doing this now. Or here.”

“Oooh. Must be good!” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. Suzanne snorted.

“We’ve only been on one date. Well, one and a half.”

Christine snickered. “How do you have half a date? What’s that, like, chatting while in line to get coffee? Making out on the subway?”

“He came over and cooked me breakfast.” Some of the nervous energy crackling under her skin dissipated as she remembered sitting beside him and quietly eating omelettes.

Her friend whistled. “Nice. And you’re seeing him again tonight?”

She nodded. “He’s cooking dinner at my place, and we’re going to watch a movie.”

“Staying in?” Christine’s brows wiggled again. “So what’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem. Why do you say that?”

Christine nodded to where Suzanne’s fingers were tapping nervously against her desk. “You’ve been jumpy since I walked in. You’re into him. He’s into you. He cooks. Plus, he looks like one of those underwear ads in Times Square. What am I missing?”

Suzanne slumped back in her chair, twirling a pen between her fingers. “My parents. Antoine… My
parents
.”

Her friend’s shrewd eyes studied her face. “Ahh, I get it now. Not up to Mummy and Daddy’s standards, huh?”

She flushed, but couldn’t dispute Christine’s words. “They’ve just always had this idea of how my life was going to go. When I didn’t go to law school, that threw them for a loop, but they adjusted. Mostly to the idea of me marrying a lawyer. I know they mean well, but they only seem to have just one concept of what ‘success’ is, and a fireman with an Associate’s Degree in Sports Medicine isn’t it. Antoine is.”

“Hold up, Hotty McHotterson is a
fireman
? Oh God, wait… let me picture it!” Christine closed her eyes and held up one finger for a moment before giving a delicate shudder.

Suzanne ground her teeth. “Stop picturing my boyfriend naked, damn it, Chris!” The minute the words were out of her mouth, she clapped her hand over her mouth.