...Rikka turned and her breath whooshed out with relief. Ah, a familiar face. "Hey, handsome, how have you been?" Three months had passed since she'd last seen Marty Jenkins. Unable to resist, she took several moments to enjoy the view. By his appearance, he must have used every minute to become even more muscled. A flush ran over her skin at the sight of his pecs straining the suspenders riding over a flat abdomen. If only his shirt wasn't in the way.

Damn but he looked good.

A grin flashed across his face smudged with a bit of soot. "Doing okay. And you?"

Still the polite guy she'd dated last fall. "Fine, until today." Her gaze darted to his oversized pants and boots. Unflattering, maybe, but she'd seen and touched the taut ass and hard thighs hidden underneath. A fine male physique. She ran her tongue over suddenly dry lips.

"You're looking good." His gaze ran her length, lingering on her bare legs. Then he shook his head and his features tightened. "Glad you weren't burned. But, Rikka, you've got to remember water and oil don't mix. Using the garden hose spread the fire."

At his mention of the word "hose," her fingers flexed. She remembered the girth of his "personal hose" and his expertise in wielding it. Maybe this day could be salvaged. Before her stood a healthy man who'd just completed his job--a little disheveled but confident, and sexy as hell. At the moment, she couldn't remember a single reason why they'd broken up.

Rikka sighed and stepped forward to rest a hand on his arm. "Marty, I'm sorry for making the crew come out for this little mess. Damn turkey fryer." Under her fingers, his steely muscles flexed and the movement sparked memories of their energetic lovemaking. Her nipples peaked, and she raised a questioning eyebrow, letting her lips slide into a wide grin.

For a moment, his hazel eyes warmed, and the corner of his mouth rose in a grin. Then his gaze flicked over her shoulder, narrowed for a moment, and he pulled away. "Take care, Rikka."

She watched him set the helmet on his head and nod before turning back toward the tanker truck. His muscled shoulders pulled at the navy T-shirt damp from the exertion of the work. In frustration, she bit her lip, too aware of her blood racing through her veins.

She could resist. She would resist.

No matter how tempted she was to get one of the other guys alone, she had to be stronger than this fascination for a man in uniform. Need swirled deep in her belly, and she shifted her feet, squeezing her legs together to fight the throbbing of her pussy.

"Excuse me, Ms. Brendan?"

The raspy voice speaking her name resonated in her body and sent a chill over her skin. Or maybe that was guilt at being caught ogling the firefighter.

She looked over her shoulder and immediately stilled, all thoughts of Marty flying right out of her mind. Zowie! Standing four steps below her was the epitome of a fire captain--shiny shoes, navy trousers, light blue shirt, and an official captain's hat.

Tall, straight and deliciously stern.

Something about the man's stance made her want to salute. No need to let him know that. She squared her shoulders and pasted on a smile. "That's me. What can I do for you..." With a hand resting on the porch rail, she leaned over to read the shield pinned to his shirt pocket. "Captain Malloy?

For just a second, his gaze dropped to her cleavage, then flashed back up. With precise movements, he removed his cap and tucked it under his left elbow. "Ma'am, I need to ask you a few questions."

Of course, just when she thought she was back in control, the reigning Mr. Firefighter USA wanted a tête-à-tête. She glanced at her backyard--trampled blackened grass, damp patio furniture, charred fence. The acrid smell of smoke and burnt vegetation still cloaked the yard. Not the most appealing surroundings, but she hesitated about inviting a stranger into her house. Acknowledging her wary attitude came from years of living in big cities, she gestured a hand toward the back door. A man in his position must have gone through rigorous background screening. "Sure, come on in."

"I'm right behind you, ma'am."

On the top step, she halted and glanced over her shoulder. Just in time to catch him checking out her ass. A shiver of awareness ran through her, and she paused until his gaze lifted to hers.

His features stiffened, but his gaze remained steady. He gave nothing else away.