Pin-Up Fireman. Vonnie Davis

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СКАЧАТЬ years!”

      “What.” Boyd grinned, wondering how many times his son would ask him the same question and how, just once, he wished he could shock him with the correct answer.

      “I got two stars on my math paper, ʼcause…’cause I got all the answers right and the teacher could read them. Sometimes I get in a hurry and get sloppy.”

      Boyd gave a low whistle. “Wow, two stars!! That’s totally awesome. Did you hang your paper on the refrigerator?”

      “Aunt Jinny did.” Matt coughed a deep, rattily cough. One that was too familiar to Boyd.

      “Good, because I’ll want to see it. I’m real proud of your hard work, Matt. Now go to sleep.”

      The typical sound of Matt curling up on his side and the blanket rustling came through the phone line. He coughed again. “I love you, Daddy.”

      “I love you more.” He ended the call and rolled over for a little nap before he would scrounge the refrigerator for something to eat. Before his eyes closed, he sent Graci-Ella a text. Call me.

      His phone chimed. R U safe?

      He stared at the text. It had been a long time since a woman cared enough to ask him that. Needing to hear her voice, he called her. “Hi Sweetness.”

      “Are you okay?” Water sloshed.

      He pinched his eyes shut. “Don’t tell me you’re taking a bath.”

      There was no reply. Just water splashing. And his dick hardening.

      “Well?”

      “You told me not to tell you. Besides, I’m shaving.”

      “Don’t cut your leg.”

      “That’s not what I’m shaving. Sleep well, big guy.” She hung up.

      Daybreak and a case of yawns brought Graci-Ella to the fire station—well, that and a chance to see Boyd. She lugged in two big boxes of four dozen glazed donuts in one arm and an equal number of mixed donuts in the other. She set them on the dining room table, along with her bag of calendars she’d done last year of the Buccaneers football team, a collegiate female swimming team and a wrestling team from a Florida University. Visuals for the firefighters to look at to get an idea of her style of work she meant to show them the other night, but her run with Einstein and talk with Boyd had taken priority.

      She noted the petite plant hanging above the small window at the sink and complimented the captain on it, which seemed to please him. He showed her around to see the other plants she and Boyd had picked out yesterday. Since the captain didn’t mention Boyd’s running into her at the hardware store, he’d evidently kept their shopping together a secret.

      Ivy Jo was making several pots of coffee. “Grab a cup and a couple donuts before the vultures start circling to snatch a donut in each grubby hand.”

      “Don’t mind if I do.” She sat at the large table as the firefighters stumbled in in various stages of dress. Emily, like Ivy Jo, was already dressed. As for the men, some wore jeans and t-shits and others were still in their sleep pants or shorts. Her mouth opened and froze, so did her hand with a donut partway to her mouth. Boyd wore nothing but jeans, the first two buttons open, showcasing his obliques. Thank God, he wasn’t into waxing his chest for he had just the right amount of nipple teasing chest hair, and her nipples were cresting for a looksee.

      His son’s name in script was tattooed near his heart. Tribal tats ran across one wide shoulder and continued down to his elbow.

      He smiled at her before bending over to kiss her forehead. “Do we have you to thank for the donut treats this morning?” His voice was still thick with sleep. “I know I have you and your shaving routine to thank for a restless night.”

      She smiled as she took a bite of donut. Good to know. “Yes, I brought the donuts. Take as much as you want.”

      His gaze shot to her for a minute and swept over her attire—a short-sleeved, purple dress with a cowl neckline and slim skirt and purple heels—in a hungry caress. “I’ll have just one, thank you.”

      She smiled and placed a second one on his napkin. “Confucius said only a weak man can live on one puny donut.”

      He snorted before strutting into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. He sat next to her when he returned. “Please tell me you didn’t cut yourself shaving.” His voice lowered. “Although I do have lots of experience at kissing boo-boos, you know.” He bit into a donut and chewed.

      She sipped her coffee and glanced at him through her lashes. “No, I’m fine.”

      He leaned his knee against her thigh. “That’s good to hear since I dreamed about it. The kissing, I mean. Lots of kissing. Listen, Sweetness, I need to call Matt to see how he’s doing this morning. He was coughing last night.”

      He gulped his coffee as he thumbed a number. “Matt?” His forehead wrinkled in concern as his son’s raspy voice sounded over the cell. “Is your throat sore, buddy?”

      “Yeah and my chest hurts.” There was a slight wheeze to the child’s breathing.

      “You better hand the phone to Aunt Jinny.” Graci-Ella hated to keep eavesdropping in on Boyd’s conversation but his little boy sounded terrible. “Jinny, did you take his temperature?” There was a reply. Boyd repeated it. “One-hundred-and-two point six? Call the pediatrician as soon as his office opens. Keep Matt home from school. Call me with any news.”

      He sat back in his chair and sighed. “Fuck! We go through this same list of medical complaints so often, it wears on my nerves. When it’s his weekend with his mother, I know he spends a large part of that time with my ex-wife’s housekeeper, I suspect he is still exposed to a lot of smoke—and not all of it legal, either.”

      “Which is one of the reasons you’re seeking permanent custody.” Her remark was more statement than a question.

      “Almost every asthma attack morphs into pneumonia. The worry for him tears me apart. I love that little fella is if he were the whole light in my world. He depends on me to take care of him.” He stood and went for another cup of coffee, his pace slower this time as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

      Darryl, or Kissy Lips, picked up a glazed donut, caught Graci-Ella’s eye and then wiggled his tongue in and out of the hole.

       If he thinks this is turning me on, his brain has dropped into one of his balls with room left over for a dozen hot wings.

      Wolf told Darryl to act his age, while Graci-Ella made a mental note to remove him from her list. This was one asshole she didn’t want to work with.

      “Oh, come on, Wolf, chicks dig this stuff.”

      “What stuff?” Boyd turned his chair around and straddled it, his head swiveling from Darryl to Wolf to Graci-Ella. Like a gentleman, he picked up his donut and started eating it and watched Darryl select a strawberry iced pastry from another box and do his tongue waggling.

      Boyd jumped out of his chair and fisted his hand in Darryl’s t-shirt, yanking him nose to nose. “You’ll damn well show my lady some СКАЧАТЬ