Put Out (Kilgore Fire Book 5)(6)

By: Lani Lynn Vale



And if I didn’t run, that meant I couldn’t eat what I wanted without my ass getting as large as a small truck.

So, without further ado, I went to the staff lounge, grabbed my bag, and changed my clothes.

Once I was dressed, I slipped my feet back into my shoes and walked to the elevator.

I was waiting with my back facing the hallway when I heard them coming.

Cursing silently, I looked over to the stairs that were between the staff elevators and the visitor elevators, and realized that I wasn’t going to make it.

No matter what I did, they’d see me.

And I knew that PD took the stairs if he had a chance to.

Freezing in place and hoping they wouldn’t notice me with my hair up and changed into different clothes, I stayed facing forward and waited for the elevator to arrive.

Conversation continued as the men got closer, and I watched the numbers above the elevator doors hoping it would open and I could close it before they got there.

Jesus, what was I thinking wearing these shorts today? Seriously—so stupid.

I had another thought quickly after that one, and it caused me to smile.

Maybe he’s not with them.

I had high hopes that he wasn’t there, but was proven wrong long seconds later when I heard that deep, lust inspiring, jaw dropping, knee shaking voice of his.

The man only had to speak a single word, and it didn’t matter that he was talking about shit—literal shit—while he said it. I was gone, and he didn’t even really try.

He had no clue that he affected me like he did.

If he had direct access to my panties, then he would know.

But since I wouldn’t be giving it to him, then it should be fine. He’d never know…right?

“Yo, Angie,” PD rumbled as he stopped beside me. “Going to run?”

I looked over at July’s husband, and then nodded.

“I am,” I confirmed. “What are y’all up to?”

“Caught a call,” he answered. “But another crew is on their way to it since we’re here; now we’re just going back to the station in case another one comes in.”

I nodded my head.

“Got it,” I confirmed. “Did y’all finish the new project house, yet?”

He grinned.

“Almost,” he said. “July’s having fun picking out all the interior shit.”

I knew she would. That’d always been her favorite part with the two houses I had been privileged enough to help her with.

“How’s the baby doing?” I questioned him, feeling eyes on me.

I didn’t turn around, though.

If I turned around, I had to acknowledge him…I might have to talk to him.

If I had to talk to him, then I’d get tongue-tied. I had enough problems without adding looking like a dumbass in front of my crush to the list.

“Good,” he replied, sounding a lot more tired than he had a second ago. “I haven’t slept through the night since she was born. Even when I’m at the station; it’s not like I’m a fucking teenager anymore. It’s killing me.”

I grinned at him.

“Well, it could be worse,” I said. “The baby could have colic.”

He shot me a mock glare.

“Bite your tongue,” he retorted just as the doors to the elevator opened.

We all piled in, and I got into the corner so I could press the button and stay out of the way and not get any closer to Bowe and his beautiful body than I absolutely had to.

It would’ve worked, too, had there not been another stop on the second floor pushing their way on.

“Press one, please,” a frazzled looking doctor said with a phone to his ear. “What time did she arrive? She’s having the baby in the lobby?”

I backed up when two more nurses and another doctor got onto the elevator with him, having no other choice but to move until I was nearly touching the man at my back.

A man that I somehow could feel was Bowe.

We weren’t actually touching, no. But the sheer amount of heat I could feel wafting from his body was immense.

I could feel him from the backs of my ankles all the way to the top of my head.

It was the longest elevator ride of my life, and it didn’t matter one single bit that I wasn’t actually touching him.

I almost was, and that was enough to make my legs start to tremble again.

The doors opened, and my sigh of relief at the doctor’s exit was cut short by a man wielding a gurney who shoved into the elevator with us.

“Jesus Christ, man, we would have gotten off,” one of the other firefighters mumbled. “Couldn’t you have waited?”

“Sure, I could have,” the orderly answered. “But I didn’t want to.”

He continued to push, straight in my direction, and I had no choice but to step back even more.

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