I nodded there, right in the crook of her neck, until the tickle of my facial hair made her shiver.
She paused on one page, and I read it over her shoulder. One of my absolute favorite sketches filled my chest with new meaning.
She was crazy. Wild.
Chaos & beauty.
My heart.
Mine.
Vulnerable and soft, she whispered right out into the emptiness of the room. "I want to be yours."
My eyes closed and love overwhelmed me. "You fucking are."
Forever.
The huge motor whined as we sped up through a hole in traffic. People barely moved out of the way, but despite our slow progress toward someone's life-or-death situation, I couldn't find it in myself to get angry. It was three o'clock in the afternoon, I was sitting shotgun in a fire truck, and I was in all my motherfucking glory.
"Thatch!" I shouted into my phone over the blaring sirens in the background.
"Cass? Where are you?"
"I'm in a fire truck cruising down 5th Avenue!"
"What?" he yelled. "I'm having trouble hearing you. It sounded like you said you're in a fire truck."
"You heard me right!" The sirens increased in three loud bursts as the fire engine maneuvered through an intersection. "I'm saving lives and putting out fires for the day!"
I couldn't hear his response because the truckload of firemen started to argue around me.
"Goddammit! Move out of the way!"
"Take a left, Ronnie! It's faster!"
"Fuck off, Vin!"
A minute later, the sirens died down and we pulled up in front of an apartment building. The guys jumped out and headed inside while I stayed back in the truck. I was finding that not all emergencies were actual emergencies. Sometimes what one person might call a kitchen fire another would call, Bullshit, just turn off your stove, moron.
"Are you still there, T?" I asked into the receiver.
"Yeah, honey," he responded. "I thought you had a shoot today."
"I shot a charity calendar for FDNY, and we finished a little earlier than expected," I explained. "I convinced the guys to let me go on a few runs with them. Do you have any idea how cool it is riding around in the fire truck all day?" I hopped out of the truck and started to pace on the sidewalk. The adrenaline rushes from the last five runs had my body bursting with excited, nervous energy. "I think I want to change my career."
He chuckled. "Sounds like you're enjoying yourself."
"I am," I agreed and watched pedestrians mill about the building, looking for a show. I wanted to tell them to mind their own fucking business, but the last time I had done that, the lieutenant told me to zip it or else I'd get the boot.
Obviously, since boots so weren't a summer shoe, I kept my loud mouth shut.
"Are you busy tonight?" I asked Thatch, staring into the building and hoping I'd see a lick of flames burst through the window. It would probably ruin people's lives, but it would really make mine.
Yeah, I'm an asshole today.
"Just rugby practice and then I'm free."
I grinned. "Wanna meet me for a drink after?"
"Sure. Name the time and place, and I'll be there."
"Perfect. I'll ask the guys where we're going, and I'll text you."
"And by guys, you mean the firemen, right?"
"Yep." I waited for a jealous or unsure reaction most men would've have given in that kind of scenario, but it didn't come.
Thatch merely took it all in stride. Not the least bit concerned that I was paling around with a bunch of muscly firemen. "Sounds good, honey," he answered. "I'll see you tonight."
"Okay. See ya then."
"Cass?" he asked before we ended the call.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Be careful, okay?" His voice was soft around the edges.
Goddammit, this thoughtful dickhead.
If he were standing in front of me, I might have kneed him in the balls.
But instead, I answered, "Don't worry, the only time they let me out of the truck is if I'm sneaking out of it when they're running into a building. Otherwise, the protective bastards are all about proper protocols and fire safety. They're kind of a pain in my ass, to be honest."
"Good." He chuckled. "I like these guys already."
A few beers deep, I strongly encouraged Ronnie to sing karaoke with me on stage.
"No way, Cass," he said through a laugh. "I don't care how gorgeous you are, I'm not getting up there."
I fluttered my eyelashes like a lady and then spewed words that conveyed the exact opposite. "Oh, c'mon! Don't be such a ball sac!"
"I think you mean don't be such a pussy in this scenario," Ronnie retorted.
"Hell no," I scoffed. "Pussies trump balls every time. Those bitches can take a serious pounding. Balls are the sensitive little fuckers. Shit, they'd probably cry during Titanic."
Vin chuckled. "Yeah, Ronnie. Stop being such a ball sac."
Ronnie flipped him off in response, but he stayed resolute in his decision.
"How about a game of quarters instead?" Brian offered, and when it came to drinking games, that was one I simply could not and would not refuse.
For the next hour, I spanked the boys at quarters while the waitress kept up a steady stream of fresh beers and rounds of shots. It was a little after nine when Thatch strode through the bar doors, freshly showered and looking sexy as hell. God help me, he made jeans and a T-shirt look better than anyone I knew.
His eyes met mine, and a slow smirk crested the corners of his lips as he headed in my direction.
"Hey, Crazy," he greeted as he leaned down to kiss my cheek.
"Hi." I grinned up at him before turning back toward the table. "Guys, this is my fiancé, Thatch," I introduced him to the six guys seated around the table. "Baby, this is Vin, Ronnie, Brian, Bruce, Eddie, and Matt."
Thatch shook each guy's hand and sat down beside me. When I hopped out of my chair and made myself comfortable in his lap, his eyebrows shot up with amusement.
"I missed you today," I whispered into his ear. "I'm glad you came out."
He kissed the corner of my mouth. "I'm glad you had a good time today."
"I think tonight is going to be even better." I waggled my brows.
Thatch smirked. "Is that right?"
I nodded slowly. "Oh, yeah. That's right."
His gaze made a slow circuit down my body, taking inventory of all of his favorite places, but his eyes really lit when they landed on the flush of my cheeks. It must have been obvious that I was just buzzed enough to break out all of my dirtiest moves. His eyes dove back to my chest as soon as the thought scrolled across my open eyes. I knew I was showing every single freaky intention.
"Anyone need a beer?" Ronnie asked, pulling Thatch's attention from my tits to across the table.
"You buyin' the next round, Ronnie?" Vin questioned.
"No, he's not," Thatch interjected. Memo received. He lifted me out of his lap and placed my ass back in my seat, but not before giving the cheek of it a healthy, meaningful squeeze. His hands would be spending time there later. "I've got the drinks for the night, guys." He stood and motioned for the waitress, handing off his credit card with instructions to put all of the drinks for the table on his tab.
"Hell yeah! Thanks, man!" Brian held up his bottle as Thatch sat back down beside me.
"You know," Vin chimed in, "he kind of owes us for driving his girl around all day."
Thatch chuckled, but he knew better than to say anything. He had visions of my pussy in his eyes, and there wasn't any form of male camaraderie that'd make sacrificing worth it. My face scrunched up in annoyance, and my even looser than normal lips flew.
"Hey now, dickhead! Pretty sure I'm the one in control of your calendar photos, and I haven't edited them yet. Things can end up looking a lot smaller. Microscopic, even."
Ronnie laughed. "Yeah, but Vin has a point, Cass."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're a handful," Bruce added. "I guarantee the city will be sending us a complaint from the old woman you told to move the fuck along and mind her own business."
"She was just standing there, in the middle of the sidewalk," I argued. "She was in your way."
"She wasn't standing there, sweetheart," Ronnie corrected. "She was just moving very slowly."
Vin laughed. "Yeah, she had a walker. Give the woman a break."
"Whatever." I scoffed. "That's the last time I try to help you guys out."
They all agreed enthusiastically to my permanent hiatus, and Thatch laughed.
"That will definitely be the last time you'll ever be allowed on a fire truck," Brian agreed with a smirk.
"I don't know why you're acting all high and mighty," I retorted. "You're the one who asked me to slide down your pole about fifteen minutes after I met you."