Red Hot. Lisa Childs

you weren’t here,” he reminded her. “But now I understand why you wouldn’t come home with me—even though you claimed that you have to get up early in the morning.”

      “I do.” She stopped beside a silver sedan and squeezed her keyless remote. The locks clicked and the lights flashed. He recognized the make and model for having the highest safety rating. He’d thought she hadn’t come home with him because she wasn’t attracted, but maybe she was playing it safe.

      Though he’d found her at this club—where she’d known there would be male dancers... Another stupid twinge of jealousy struck him.

      “But you couldn’t resist stopping here to check out the male strippers,” he said.

      She laughed as if the idea was utterly ridiculous. “I just stopped here to talk to a friend.”

      “That guy’s a friend?”

      She shook her head. “Tammy is female.”

      “Tammy wasn’t with you at the bar,” he pointed out. Not that he would have noticed anyone but Fiona. He reached out to open her door for her. But he just held the handle, his arm stretched in front of her. Then he leaned closer and braced his other hand against the roof of her car, loosely encircling her. She lifted her hand and pressed it against his chest. “I thought you weren’t into firefighters...”

      She pushed against his chest, the warmth of her palm penetrating the thin layer of his shirt to his skin beneath. “I’m not...”

      Had he imagined earlier that she’d kissed him back? Had it just been wishful thinking on his part? Temptation tugged at him, joining the tension. He wanted to lean down a little farther and brush his mouth across hers—to see if she tasted as sweet as he’d thought. To see if he’d imagined the heat and the passion...

      Her breath caught as she stared up at him. Maybe she’d seen the hunger in his gaze. “That’s why I didn’t go home with you...”

      He stepped back and lifted his hands. “Hey, I just wanted to talk. I thought that’s what you wanted, too—to talk about your brother.”

      “I do,” she insisted. “Even if you don’t agree with me that the job he wants is too dangerous, you have to agree that it’s crazy Matthew quit school when he applied to the forest service. He might not even get in.”

      It was clear that she didn’t want him to.

      “The kid might have acted rashly,” he admitted.

      “And the whole firefighter thing,” she said, “that’s ridiculous enough. But to want to become a Hotshot, too...”

      Wyatt had a lot of pride in his job. And her disdain for it stung. “If you actually wanted to talk to me about this,” he said, “you should have come to my house.” He gestured back at the building. “Instead you came here to pick up exotic dancers.”

      Her eyes narrowed, and he braced himself for another slap or to dodge a blow as he had in the club. But she laughed instead. “I came here to talk to a friend,” she repeated. “She was the one preoccupied with the dancers.”

      And Fiona was preoccupied with her brother. He saw the worry on her face, and he’d heard it earlier in her voice. Beneath her anger with him, there was fear. “You can talk to me,” he said, “about Matt...”

      “Thank you.”

      Maybe he could get her to go home with him now—just to talk, of course. He opened his mouth to issue the invitation when a voice called out from the club. “Hey!”

      He turned to the bouncer.

      “Your friend’s in trouble in here.”

      He groaned. Braden was going to kill him. But maybe he’d also saved him—from doing something crazy, such as being alone with Fiona O’Brien. Because Wyatt knew that if they were alone—truly alone—he wouldn’t be able to resist temptation. He would have to kiss her again.