Page 55 of Steel

“You have no idea.”

We ended up on the opposite sides of the island. I was nervous around him, which was completely unlike every other time I’d been in the room with him. Maybe because through my son’s jabbering, I’d learned quite a lot about the mysterious smokejumper.

He was close to his family. He’d been born in Missoula. He had a degree in finance, which seemed to fascinate my son. But not nearly as much as when Steel had explained the work of being a smokejumper. And I knew his likes and dislikes in everything from pizza to suspense movies.

The two boys had the same tastes in several things.

Using a single finger, he pushed a glass in my direction, the corners of his mouth upturning as he did.

I grabbed the glass, pulling the rim to my lips while refusing to take my eyes off him.

“Why are you looking at me that way?” he asked before taking a swallow.

“I’m just curious if you ever shave.”

His laugh was deep, far too husky and a tremor pulsed between my legs. “You don’t like this?” He scrubbed his jaw and I wanted to be the one rubbing my hands on the thick bristles.

“Makes you look… dangerous.”

“Well, then. I just might have to keep it.”

I finally took a sip then another, thankful for the slight burn of the cheap liquor.

Through dinner, nothing had been awkward, likely because my son had monopolized the conversation. Now I was tingling, my stomach full of butterflies and my condition should be because of what I needed to confess. That wasn’t the case and I couldn’t lie to myself any longer.

He took another swallow, almost finishing half the glass. The air in the room was thick and the only thing I could concentrate on was the rise and fall of his extraordinary chest.

The look of Steel was different than before when we’d been navigating a seven-year-old who’d suddenly found a best friend in a hero who’d saved his life.

Steel’s jaw seemed sharper than before, his mouth set in a permanent pout. His thick hair remained tousled from his fightwith fire but sexier, as if he’d run his long, thick fingers through the crown. And every breath he took was labored.

Ground rules were needed, although neither of us had any idea what to say now that the façade of family was gone. I’d never felt so uncomfortable around anyone, let alone a man. I’d learned to come out swinging in almost every circumstance.

He took another gulp of his drink. Then another.

Until the glass was empty. With an exaggerated last swallow, he lowered the ugly green rocks glass to the counter.

It was now or never to come clean about my reason for arriving in Missoula. “Steel. We should talk.”

“Why?”

A good question. “Because there are some things you need to know.” I hadn’t noticed he’d moved until he was only a foot in front of me without the island in between.

He stopped long enough to take a deep breath, using the time he held the intake to decide whether to allow me to speak. When he exhaled, the skin on my neck was tickled from the brush of air dancing across my skin. Unblinking, he inched close enough to take the glass from my hand. Without looking, he set mine beside his, and for some reason, all I could think about was how mismatched the two were.

Just like the two of us.

“You know what?” he asked with a tone that resonated through every synapse in my brain. “I know everything I need to about you.”

“No, you don’t.”

The back of his hand rubbed across the base of my jaw before he cupped my chin. While his fingers pressed into my skin, his hold wasn’t painful but possessive. He closed the distance, peering down at me with soulful eyes that could easily cut through glass.

“Yeah, I do.”

The correct statement that this was a very bad idea was on the tip of my tongue.

And he even gave me the opportunity to back out by slowly lowering his head. But I didn’t say a word because I didn’t want to.