Page 33 of Living with Fire

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Page 33 of Living with Fire

“But you don’t know if Savanna will even stick around,” Jordan points out what I just told her. “You met her in an elevator of some professional building, Nate. What was she doing there? Don’t you think she’ll want to go back to that?”

I’ll admit I didn’t think about this when I offered Savanna a job last night. That was the impulsive side of me not looking at all the angles, and one of the reasons I was up so late thinking about everything. But I kept coming back to the fact that when she finally accepted my offer, she lit up like it was the best thing that had happened to her in her whole life, and she couldn’t wait to get started.

Her smile had been damn near blinding, and the rest of the night she glowed, which had me staring at her, captivated by how beautiful she was. I’ve never met someone as gorgeous as her. The more time I spend with her, the more I’m attracted to her on every level. I’m just hoping that’s not going to be a problem now that she’s working for me and I’m going to be her boss. Especially after what happened with her last boss.

Christ. Not that anything is happening between us.

“I’m not sure,” I say, picking up my mug to hide my cringe behind it. “She was pretty damn happy when she accepted, so maybe not.”

Jordan rolls her eyes, her frustration with me glaringly obvious. “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore, and yet you’re being exactly who I know you to be.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, she lets out a deep sigh. “My brother isn’t usually one to offer his guest room up to a stranger, and he’s definitely not one to make decisions about the bar without talking to me about it.”

“But,” she continues, waving her hand in the air. “He is the guy that would give the shirt off his back to someone who needed it, even if it were below zero in a snowstorm.” Her hands come to rest on her hips. “I just don’t know what to make of you right now, Nate. The only conclusion I can come up with is that you like her. A lot. Which I think might surprise me the most.”

I frown at her, my eyebrows furrowing. “Why? I do like women, you know.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious. Yes, I know.”

I should really start playing a game with myself when I’m talking to her. The rules would be pretty simple: guess how many times in one conversation I can make Jordan roll her eyes.

She picks up her coffee mug. “You guys just met the other day, though, and you’re not the kind of guy that rushes into anything.”

“I haven’t rushed into anything except offering her a job,” I point out, and then amend, “And offering her a place to stay.”

“Just be careful. I don’t want to see you hurt,” Jordan says, her voice and eyes soft with affection. “Speaking of the bar, though… have you made any progress on the stuff for the accountant?”

“Not yet. Yesterday was a write off. Going to get working on it today.” I down the last bit of my coffee and shove my mug towards Jordan for her to refill it since the coffee maker is behind her.

“I can try to help when I get off later. Or tomorrow. I have the day off,” she offers, pouring me another cup.

“It’s okay, Jor. I’ve got it handled. I can always call Larry if I need help.”

That’s a bold-faced lie. I don’t have anything managed and I have no idea where to start. But I know my sister could use a day off without worrying about work, especially after her breakup with Paul. I’d rather see her relax and process things in her own life than worry about the bar. Even though I know she’s willing to help.

“Nate…”

I shake my head while she slides my mug across the counter. “Once I get things organized you can help. Let me get a handle on the office today and tomorrow. You just take care of yourself, okay? That’ll help me more.”

While her eyes don’t roll—they’re focused on something interesting on the floor—a loud sigh expelling from her lungs has her shoulders sagging. Pure exhaustion rolls off of her in waves in that moment, and I know I’ve made a good decision in staving her off from helping. Giving her permission to look after herself made an invisible wall come down, and she finally nods her agreement. When her eyes meet mine again, I can see a shine in them that wasn’t there before. It makes me want to find Paul and kick his ass all over again.

“Thanks,” she whispers appreciatively. “It’s been a rough week. I could use a day to decompress. Plus I need to get my stuff from Paul’s and drop his crap off.”

“I can go with you,” I offer.

Jordan’s head is shaking before the words are out of my mouth. “It’s okay. I can handle it.”

“Morning,” a sleepy voice says from the doorway, and we both turn to find Savanna standing there.

It’s like déjà vu the way she takes my breath away, and I find myself instantly sporting a semi. Around Savanna it seems like I’m in a constant state of arousal. Her blonde hair is pulled into a high ponytail this morning, the length of it wavy from the braid she had it in, and she looks deliciously disheveled in the same pair of pants and t-shirt as yesterday. I could really get used to her being around looking like this every morning.

It's not only that she’s stunning, or that I know she has a bit of feistiness lurking beneath. It’s the way she handles herself in every situation I’ve seen her in. Nothing has been too big for her to deal with. The job, the fire, the apartment, my best friends last night at the bar. Christ, she was brilliant with them. Fit in perfectly without missing a beat.

“Coffee?” Jordan asks, already headed for a mug. She’s a much better hostess than I am host.

“Please,” Savanna says, smiling.

Once she has a coffee poured and doctored, Savanna joins me at the island, letting out a sigh of pure bliss that goes straight to my cock and has me gritting my teeth. It’s made worse because she’s so close to me today, not standing across the island where I can’t feel the heat coming off her body.

“Sleep okay?” I ask by way of distraction, but I choose a horrible topic. All it does is make me picture her in my guest bed, sprawled out with her hair splayed across the pillow. The things I would love to do to her in that bed… or in mine.




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