Fanning the Flames

Burning for you

Some men are off-limits. Close friends of your ex-husband, for instance. Or firefighters who work in the same building as you. Yet despite her best judgment, librarian Lauren Foster can’t help noticing fire captain Jake Davis whenever he jogs by...shirtless. They’ve always been friends, but all it takes is one not-so-chance meeting at a local bar and one not-quite-innocent walk home to ignite a fierce, uncontrollable desire between them.

Widower Jake Davis has tried to ignore the spark he feels whenever Lauren’s around, but once he sees her curves in a little black dress, there’s no turning back. No matter how often she says she’s all wrong for him, the sexy, outspoken divorcée is driving him wild in the best possible way. Maybe she’s just blowing off steam. Or maybe he can convince her to fan these flames into something deeper, hotter and truer than they ever expected....

Fanning the Flames

Victoria Dahl

www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author

Victoria Dahl lives with her family in a small town high in the Utah mountains. During the summer, she hikes and drinks margaritas (usually not at the same time). During the winter she likes to curl up with a book and a cup of hot cocoa and think about all those poor, freezing skiers working so hard out in the snow. Victoria has published over twenty books and novellas, including three USA TODAY bestsellers, and several of her books have been nominated for the prestigious RITA® Award for excellence in the romance genre.

Find out more about Victoria and her books at www.VictoriaDahl.com or write to her at Victoria@VictoriaDahl.com.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Title Page

About the Author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Copyright

Chapter One

FIREFIGHTERS. THE BANE of her existence.

Shaded beneath the fading awning of the Jackson Town Library, Lauren Foster watched as Fire Captain Jake Davis jogged along the other side of the street, his eyes straight ahead, brow furrowed against the bright sun. It was one of the hottest days of August so far, so he’d shucked his shirt and wore only black shorts, the Jackson Fire Department logo bunching at his hip with every stride. His shoulders and chest were tanned from months of summer running.

The noise from the firefighters annoyed her every day, but the most torturous thing about the library being attached to the fire station was this: being exposed to Jake Davis’s beautiful body.

He crossed the street and moved closer, and Lauren watched a trickle of sweat slip down his skin to tangle in the salt-and-pepper hair in the middle of his chest.

God, she loved a hairy male chest. If she wanted to feel soft and smooth, she had free dibs on her own chest. No one else was using it.

Sighing, she frowned at Jake’s wide, taut shoulders as he approached the building. He looked up then, of course. She imagined the picture she must make: the spinster town librarian sitting primly on a bench with a book, frowning her disapproval over a man’s sweaty public nudity.

Lauren looked back to the book in her hands and frowned harder. No, she couldn’t even claim the cliché of spinster. She was just an empty-nester divorcée, counting down the years to menopause. She was in the single digits now and could feel the hot flashes looming over her, strobing in the distance like approaching lightning. Every time she went to that cute little boutique in town, she was more and more attracted to the wildly painted reading glasses with the beaded chains that let them hang around your neck.

And she didn’t even need reading glasses. Yet.

But a pair of new shades might do her good. Then she could truly enjoy the sight of Jake’s glistening chest as he jogged toward the fire station. Sharing the building made for a nice summer view during her lunch hour, but it was bittersweet, looking at what she could never have.

Lauren didn’t realize he was moving straight toward her and not the door of the fire station until he stopped right in front of her. She sat up straighter.

“Lauren,” he said in that familiar gravelly voice. “You wanted to see me?”

She blinked in confusion before remembering that she’d sent him an email. “Oh. Yes, but...” But not half-naked, she wanted to say. As she hesitated, another little rivulet of sweat trickled down his neck and made its eager way toward his chest hair. “Uh.” Jesus. Lauren gave herself a mental shake. “Your guys are playing music again.”

His brow tightened with momentary irritation. “Loudly?” he asked.

His irritation fueled her own and helped her get over his glistening chest. “Yes. Loudly enough that I can hear the lyrics in the library.”

“They’re working out. Give ’em a break. They only—”

“Earbuds. Check into them.”

Another twitch of his brow. Lauren stared him down.

“It’s a library, Jake. Come on. Our whole shtick is silent contemplation. When your sirens aren’t blaring, we need it to be quiet. Plus, your guys have terrible taste in music.”

His face finally relaxed into something that was almost a smile. “All right. I’ll give you that. Their music sucks.”

“Just remind them of the library’s hours, okay? They can blast music as loud as they want after closing.”

He ran a hand through his short hair, and another drop of sweat slipped down his neck. This time it curved over his shoulder and disappeared down his back. “They’ve got earbuds, but listening to music together is bonding. It’s good for team cohesion.”

Lauren took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, hating the stereotype she was becoming. “Do you really think I want to be the uptight middle-aged librarian asking the young guys next door to turn down that terrible rap music?”

When she opened her eyes, she thought she saw his gaze rise, as if he’d been looking at her body, but maybe that was just her own wishful thinking.

“What?” he asked.

Lauren sighed and stood. “Take pity on me and don’t make me ask again, OK? I don’t enjoy being the nagging house mother.”

He was frowning again, but he at least offered an unenthusiastic “Sure,” as she turned to open the library door.

“Thank you, Jake.”

His hand appeared above hers to pull the door open, and there was no mistaking the scent of his clean sweat as the air moved around both of them. It hit her hard, drawing something tight deep in her belly, and Lauren considered it a triumph that she didn’t turn and lick him before moving inside. He smelled the way a man should smell when he was in your bed and working hard for it.

The door finally whooshed shut behind her, and she breathed a sigh of relief that all she could smell now was paper and Windex.

Her thirties had been a fairly dry decade, what with her failing marriage and then her divorce. But her forties? God. Her body clearly wanted her to get busy humping any man who caught her eye before all her eggs dried up. What her body didn’t seem to understand was that there were plenty of healthy-egged young twenty-somethings who were attracted to men like Jake Davis, too. She couldn’t compete with them. But honestly, she wouldn’t mind a few hopeless tries.

Why had it taken her four decades to realize how beautiful the male body was? And how very much she wanted more of it? She’d never once thought about tasting a sweaty male chest in her twenties. Now she wanted to lick Jake Davis clean.

Sneering at her own absurd thoughts, she headed for the privacy of the tiny office to the side of the circulation desk. “I talked to Jake,” she said, collapsing into the chair next to her best friend Sophie.

Sophie looked up from her computer. “Oh, you talked to Jake, huh?”

“He said he’d have a word with the guys.”

“Yeah? Did he also say, ‘Oh, Lauren, it’s so hot I can’t wear a shirt when I run. I hope that’s okay with you?’”

Lauren’s face felt like it burst into flames. “What?”

“I saw him when I was driving back from lunch. That is one hot fire captain.”

“I didn’t notice!” Lauren hissed, ducking her head and opening her own laptop.

“Liar! Oh, my God, you’re beet-red.”

“Shut up. I mean it. Having those stupid firefighters right next door is a damn work hazard.”

Sophie shrugged. “They have their uses.”

Lauren tried to shove her curiosity down and keep her mouth shut. She and Sophie had been friends for two years, but despite their frequent joking, Sophie rarely divulged concrete details about her own love life.

This time Lauren was going to nail her down. “Exactly how many firefighters have you used?” Sophie was the picture of modesty, always wearing knee-length skirts and button-up shirts with her sensible heels. But she wasn’t as innocent as she looked. Once you got a drink in her, she could dish about blow-job techniques with the best of them.