Catching Fire: A Small Town Firefighter Romance (Hometown Heat Book 2) by Lili Valente

Author:Lili Valente [Valente, Lili]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Self Taught Ninja Inc.
Published: 2021-08-05T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Faith

It isn’t love if it happens this fast.

This is lust, a crush.

Hormones!

Whatever it is, it isn’t love, so wipe that goofy smile off your face, woman!

My inner monologue does its best to pull me down off the cloud I’ve been floating on all afternoon, but its weak, pitiful whining is no match for the way Mick holds my hand as we walk around the French Quarter.

Or the way he listens—really listens—to my stories.

Or the way he laughs and cleans my face with his napkin when I get powdered sugar all over the place eating my first beignet.

That scared, anxious voice fades to the background where it belongs as Mick pulls me into the shade under a tree in Jackson Square and kisses me while the bells of the cathedral ring and the applause of people cheering for a nearby street performer rises all around us.

The day is magical, as if the entire world is a big fan of falling in love.

Love.

I’ve never been in love before.

The affection I felt for Eli never knocked me off my feet and it’s a pale shadow compared to the warm, wonderful, thrilling sensation that fills my chest every time Mick’s fingers brush mine. Being with him is like swimming in a warm ocean—blissful and natural and good. I want to swim right down to the bottom of him and learn all his secrets, to know him in a way I’ve never known anyone else.

And I don’t just mean sex.

In fact, I don’t even mainly mean sex.

And that’s a little scary, yeah.

But it’s also…pretty sweet.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he says, running a hand through my hair as he pulls away from the kiss.

“Oh, just silly stuff. Silly thoughts,” I say, my cheeks heating. Thankfully, it’s warmer in New Orleans than in Georgia this time of year. I can probably blame the blush on the balmy temperature if he calls me out on it.

But he doesn’t.

He just smiles and says, “I like silly thoughts. You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”

I laugh. “You first.”

“I really enjoy sneezing. I get excited when I feel one coming.”

I arch a brow. “Really?”

He nods. “Your turn.”

I wrinkle my nose but push aside my nerves. “I was thinking that kissing you feels like a conversation.”

“Yeah. Like…telling secrets. A little nerve-wracking but mostly nice.” He hesitates before he adds, “Very nice.”

“Don’t be nerve-wracked.” I press a finger to his chin. “I won’t tell any of your secrets. I promise.”

“Thanks. Same here.” His gentle smile threatens to burst the last dam standing inside of me. Emotion swells, pushing against the floodgates, but I remind myself that this is so, so new and keep my feeling flood to myself.

“You’re very sweet,” he adds, his fingers tracing up and down my spine in a way that makes me shiver despite the heat.

“I’m not sure sweet is the word most people would use.”

He ponders that for a second. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re better than sweet. You’re honest, but kind.”

“Not always. I have a temper.

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