“Exactly. Don’t forget that.” Blake gripped the rail and looked out at the trees beyond. “You really shouldn’t get involved with anyone at the station.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Good. It’s just asking for problems. Especially with her only a few years in and you being a lieutenant. You’d have to disclose it, risk getting switched to a different station. And what if the relationship went bad?”

  “Preaching to the choir here. I’m not getting involved with her.”

  “And like you said, she’s one of us. The girl bro, so to speak. You can’t…” Blake hesitated. “You can’t tap into that pool. It’s trouble waiting to happen.”

  “I have no intention of tapping anything.”

  “Well, you can tap something. Probably ought to be. No one’s asking you to be a damn monk. Just try and stay away from Amber.”

  Reggie opened his mouth to defend himself again. To swear he didn’t think of Amber in that light.

  After a moment, he closed his mouth and then let the protest die.

  Because yesterday, while on shift, things had begun to change. When that drunk fool at the kitchen fire had grabbed her ass, he’d seen red.

  Usually the chill one in the group, Reggie had gone from zero to one hundred in wanting to punch the intoxicated fool.

  Why?

  Chad and Chuck had been there too—and upset as well—but their reactions hadn’t been as violent.

  It’s because you’re so protective of her. Always have been.

  But it felt like it went so much deeper. It was something he didn’t want to analyze, because he knew he wouldn’t like it.

  “Hey,” Blake added, “maybe set up another date with Nicole. Distract yourself and forget any of those thoughts about Amber creeping in.”

  Seeing Nicole again was a good plan. His mind had already thrown that idea up as another barrier to whatever this new reaction to Amber was.

  “I still think you were imagining it,” Reggie lied, wishing his bluffs were as good outside the poker game.

  “Nah, man. I didn’t imagine you looking at Amber like you’ve been stuck on a desert island and she was a five-course meal.”

  That had his lips twitching. “Is that your weird-ass way of telling me to get laid?”

  “Look, I don’t know shit about your sex life.” Blake lifted his hands. “Or any of you guys. Which is how I’d prefer it. But I’m just saying. It’s been a while and you’re looking at Amber as if she’s a hot fudge sund—”

  “Okay, stop with the lame food comparisons.” Reggie groaned and took another swig of beer. “I have no intentions of moving in on Amber.”

  “Good.”

  “Great.”

  “Glad we had this talk.” Blake clapped him on the back. “And luckily, I don’t think anyone else noticed your little exchange, by the way.”

  “You’re just the lone creeper in the group? Got it.”

  “I’ve got a lot of experience at this now. It’s a good backup career if the whole paramedic thing gets boring.” Blake paused. “One last thing.”

  Wariness had him biting back a sigh. Reggie lifted a brow at his friend. “Yes?”

  “Amber has a little crush on you.”

  Surprise had him barking out a laugh. “No, she doesn’t.”

  “She sure as fuck does. I started noticing it right after I got together with Kristen. She hides it pretty well, but like I said, I’m good at seeing this shit.”

  Reggie frowned. No way. There’s no way he wouldn’t have picked up on that. He glanced back through the sliding glass door into the apartment, to where Amber had sat back down at the table.

  Or really, she perched on her chair. Those pretty legs were folded under her ass while she shuffled the cards.

  Amber had a crush on him?

  Something sparked inside him, creating warmth and a slow pounding in his blood.

  No.

  An image flashed through his head in an instant—Amber in his bed, her head thrown back while he kissed her neck and unfastened those tiny shorts to slide his fingers under her panties.

  Fuck.

  “Maybe it’s better that you’re blind to it,” Blake went on cheerfully. “Just don’t encourage it, you know.”

  Reggie shook his head. “Damn you for pointing it out.”

  “Why?” Blake lifted a brow before understanding dawned. “Ah, shit.”

  “Ah, shit, exactly.”

  “I made it worse?”

  “So much worse.”

  “Well, for fuck’s sake, put a STOP sign in front of her mentally.”

  “It’s already there and cemented to the ground. But when I know a girl likes me, it’s like a green light goes off in my head, if I’m at all interested.”

  “Which you’re not.”

  “No, I’m not.” Sweat beaded on the back of his neck.

  He knew he wasn’t convincing Blake any more than himself.

  “Maybe get on that text to Nicole?”

  Reggie whipped his phone out and did exactly that. Asking her if she wanted to go out tomorrow night.

  “Done.”

  “You’re good then.”

  Their eyes met, and Reggie clenched his teeth together. He was anything but good, and they both knew it.

  Blake gave a soft laugh.

  Wherever those clueless to the opposite sex being into him blinders were, Reggie needed them back on.

  “Pull out that poker face again, my friend.” Blake reached for the door. “I think you’re going to need it.”

  *

  The sound of birds and the sunshine through her blinds woke Amber much too early the next morning.

  Not that she ever slept great on her days off, anyway. It could be difficult bouncing back after the twenty-four-hour shift.

  Sure, sleeping was allowed and encouraged between calls at the fire station, but it seemed the nights were just as busy as the days lately.

  So really, short power naps were what they tried to get in.

  Memories of last night hit as she swung her legs out of bed and pressed her face into her hands.

  Oh god.

  How had it gone from normal to uncomfortable so fast?

  There’d been that supercharged moment during poker when she and Reggie couldn’t look away from each other. When everything had felt electric.

  She’d practically bolted to the bathroom to splash water on her face and get her emotions under control.

  This crush was out of control. And she’d probably showed her hand in more than just her poker game last night.

  But after she’d come back from the bathroom was when it had really gotten weird. Reggie wouldn’t look at her, and then when a text had come in, Blake had teased him about who it was from.

  “Nunya business,” Reggie had muttered.

  “So, is it official? Do you have yourself a date tomorrow night?”

  And Reggie had scoffed and not answered, but the way he’d shifted in his chair and adjusted his glasses showed he’d been flustered.

  Which was confirmation enough, and had sent Amber’s confidence and heart dive-bombing.

  Enough thinking about last night. Today’s your day off.

  She grabbed her phone off the side table and turned off Sleep Mode.

  A group chat from the guys showed up. They had one that had been going on for years, where people would drop in memes, and chat, or invite each other to events.

  She sighed, glancing away, almost hesitant to look at it.

  For the first time ever, it felt like she needed to put a little emotional space between her and the guys. For her own good.

  But when the messages kept piling up, she reluctantly opened to read them.

  Reggie: My parents want you all to know you’re invited to the bakery this morning for BOGO. Deal for their favorite firefighters only.

  Blake: Shit, like you need to tell me twice. Kris and I will drop in some time later.

  Chuck: Can’t make it. The family and I are at the beach today. Tell them thanks.

  Chad: You had me at bakery.

  Amber closed the chat, leaving them on read. No, she did not need to show up at Reggie’s family bakery today. There was no need to rub salt in the wound, no matter how delicious their baked goods sounded.

  She stood and her eyes went wide.

  Wait…there were still the cookies that Reggie brought last night. She didn’t need to go to the bakery to indulge.

  In an instant, she’d rushed to the kitchen, dreaming of coffee and a warm salted caramel cookie for breakfast.

  She spotted the paper bag on the counter and her mouth watered. When her hands wrapped around it, it lifted without resistance.

  Her heart sank.

  “Son of a bitch,” she whispered, crumpling the empty bag in her hands. “Which bottomless pit Neanderthal ate the last one?”

  She hadn’t even had one. Not one. Sometimes she really felt the testosterone imbalance of being the only girl at the station.

  Her phone buzzed again in her palm and she glanced down.

  Chad: Just got back from the bakery. Reggie’s mom was asking if you were coming by, Amber.

  Crap.

  She liked Reggie’s mom. His whole family, actually. The firehouse crew dropped by the bakery now and then to support Reggie’s parents’ business. On and off work hours. Because, seriously, that crusty Kalamata bread from the bakery went great with spaghetti nights at work.

  No one had planned visiting the bakery to be as routine as putting socks on, but the food and the friendliness kept them coming back.

  Amber sighed and tossed the bag in the trash.

  She grabbed her phone again and joined the chat.

  I’ll swing by in the next hour or so. What choice do I have? Seeing as you jerks ate all the cookies.

  Chad: You snooze, you lose.

  Chuck: Those were community domain.

  She couldn’t help but laugh softly, and waited to see if Reggie would chime in. Even though it showed he’d been reading the messages, he’d been notoriously silent since the original invite to the bakery.

  A sliver of unease ran through her. Maybe he was weirded out by that short little moment they’d had last night?

  Just the idea of it had her stomach sinking and embarrassment slithering through her.

  No, screw this. This crushing on Reggie and the discomfort that came along with it was over.

  She picked up her phone again and texted her BFF.

  Do you have plans tonight? I want to go out.

  Tara replied a moment later.

  Girl, you woke me up. Are we talking clubbing? Or out to a movie? Either way, I’m in. Been way too long since I’ve seen your butt.

  Amber only hesitated a moment before typing back, Clubbing. I need to get out there and flirt. I’m rusty AF.

  The tiny bubbles showed Tara writing back before the text appeared.

  Yeah, you are. Like, so rusty the next guy who touches you is going to need a tetanus shot. I’ll pick you up at eight. Wear a good tit top.

  Amber bit back a snort of laughter and went to get dressed. Not into a tit top, as her friend had put it, because while tonight was for having fun and looking sexy, this morning was all about keeping it casual and stocking up on baked goods.

  She quickly threw on some clothes—she’d shower later—and then grabbed her keys before making her way out of her apartment.

  By the time she arrived at Sugar Me Sweet, her stomach was growling and her need for caffeine kept her yawning.

  When she pulled into the small parking lot of the shop, she glanced around to see if she recognized anyone’s car. Namely, Reggie’s.

  But there was no sign of his truck.

  Which should be a relief, right?

  The voice inside whispered the reminder.

  Yes. It was a relief.

  She climbed out of the car and made her way into the cute little bakery. The scent of yeast and sugar was an intoxicating mix that promised to fix all her problems.

  More specifically—the guy who was taking up far too much real estate in her thoughts lately. A day without seeing Reggie was exactly what she needed.

  She breathed in a deep sigh, got in line, and eyed the baked goods behind the glass case.

  “Good morning.”

  Damn it! Really?

  Chapter Four

  Reggie struggled to hide his smile as Amber visibly twitched.

  Being tucked into a corner table out of view, he’d spotted her before she’d seen him. And he’d taken a moment to look her over.

  Her blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and sunglasses perched on her head. She’d slipped into those tiny shorts again this morning, but now had a purple T-shirt on and flip-flops on her feet.

  Don’t look at her legs. Or her toes that have sparkly purple polish on them.

  Too late.

  “Hey, Lieu—Reggie.”

  Her usual bright smile seemed somewhat strained today, and her eyes a bit wary.

  “Thanks for the heads-up on the BOGO.”

  He gave a short nod. “Thanks for giving my parents’ place your business.”

  “Yeah, I’d be coming here even if these guys weren’t your family. Their food is amazing.” She shifted forward as the line moved.

  He let the conversation dwindle, because it would be weird to raise his voice the farther away she got.

  So he sipped his coffee and checked his phone, forcing himself to think about anything else besides Amber in those shorts.

  He’d been here a couple of hours, talking to the regulars and jumping into the back now and then to talk to the staff and help his mom with some heavy lifting.

  One day off a week, he tried to hang out at the bakery to visit with his folks and sister and check on how business was going.

  “Amber, I’m so glad you came by, sweetheart. We haven’t seen you in a while.”

  He glanced up, recognizing his mom’s voice. He couldn’t hear Amber’s reply, but no doubt she was being her usual friendly self and endearing herself to his mom even more.

  A few minutes later, his mom called out, “Come back soon, okay?”

  “I will. Great to see you, Bernice.”

  This time he could hear her, because she was turning as she spoke.

  Bernice? Since when was she on a first-name basis with his mom?

  She held the Sugar Me Sweet pink box in one hand, no doubt overflowing with goodies, and a steaming cup of coffee in the other.

  “You gonna sit down for a minute and have breakfast?” He gestured to the seat across from him. “Or do you need to rush off somewhere?”

  Surprise flickered in her eyes, and she glanced hesitantly toward the door.

  Why did she look startled? It would’ve been weirder if he hadn’t invited her to sit down and join him.

  They’d always had an easygoing friendship. He wasn’t going to ditch that just because . . . the new shit between them that would not be named. That really wasn’t there, and he was going to keep pretending it wasn’t there. Because that was the healthy thing to do. Right?

  “Sure. I’ve got a few minutes.”

  He lifted a brow. “Keeping busy on your day off?”

  She opened the box and pulled out a marionberry-and-cream cheese Danish.

  “I’m meeting up with Tara. Girls’ night out.” She took a bite and lifted her gaze to his. Appreciation flickered in her eyes, and she moaned softly. “These are so good.”

  His gaze fell on her mouth. Her lips were on the smaller side and the prettiest shade of pink.

  What would they feel like under his?

  No.

  Her tongue darted out to swipe a bit of marionberry off the corner of her mouth.

  “What about you? Big date tonight, I hear?”

  A sliver of discomfort pricked and he shrugged, trying to ease it. Why was talking to Amber about his dating life so weird now?

  Reggie dropped his gaze to his iced coffee and murmured, “I wouldn’t qualify it as big—we’ve gone out a few times before.”

  “Getting serious?”

  “Nah.”

  Maybe he should’ve lied about it, to keep a buffer between them, but it didn’t feel right. He’d always been honest with Amber—which meant they had a solid friendship. He didn’t want to mess with that.

  Tonight was his “shit or get off the pot” moment with Nicole. If he still wasn’t feeling it, he’d stop taking her out.

  “So tell me more about girls’ night out. What kind of trouble do you ladies get into?”

  Amber, who’d just taken another bite of the pastry, laughed. Her light-blue eyes lit up with amusement, and her nose crinkled. His attention caught on the freckles on that pert nose and those round cheekbones.

  Those seemed new. Summer sunshine freckles. Damn, they made her look even cuter.

  “Trouble? Sorry, but you’ve got me mistaken for someone else.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.”

  “Reg, my idea of a good time is hanging out on a blanket at the lake and talking to the ducks. Not closing down a bar while wasted out of my mind.”

  What the . . .?

  “Did you really say ‘talking to ducks’?”

  “Anyway, I should go.” She crumpled her napkin and tossed it in the nearby compost bin. “See you at work tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  She glanced back behind the counter and waved to his mom. “Bye, Bernice. See you next time.”

  He watched her leave, trying to figure out if she’d been serious about that whole duck stuff.

  “Are you ready to retire from firefighting and come work for us?” His mom plopped down in the chair that Amber had just vacated.

  He grimaced. “You know I’ve got, like, fifteen years before I’m even eligible to retire. And the bakery stuff isn’t for me.”

  “I don’t know about that.” She dropped the subject, though, as her gaze drifted to the door Amber had just exited. “I really like that girl. When are you going to ask her out?”

  “Mama.” The air seethed out from his pursed lips. “Amber and I are just friends. We work together.”

  “Well, I worked with your dad before I worked on your dad. If you know what I mean.”

  Nope. He wasn’t going there.

  “No, I don’t know what you mean. Thankfully. And I’m gonna try real hard not to imagine.”