“Like what? The off switch on the stove?”

“Ha. Ha. No, I mean like spatulas.”

“Spatulas? Likely story.”

“No, really. Everything was coming along just fine until I realized I had no way to flip the omelet.”

“And then . . . chaos!”

“Exactly. Once the eggs started burning as I scrambled around looking for the spatula, they got all my attention for a few minutes. At that point, there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t save the bacon.”

“Okay, first of all, burnt eggs, scrambling around, saving bacon—I can’t be expected to ignore any more clichés, so consider yourself warned. Secondly, why the big, elaborate breakfast?”

I shrug. “I thought it was the least I could do since you weren’t mad that I hijacked your bed for a couple of nights.”

“How could any man in his right mind be mad about that?”

“Because it’s so rude! It’s not like I asked or anything, which I should have. I was just so mad! And then, once I left my parents’ house, I realized I had nowhere else to go. If I’d gone to the Sleep Inn, they’d have found me for sure. I mean, it is the only hotel in town.”

“Well, now you have a place to stay, so you don’t need to worry about it.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“It’s not an imposition. It’s an opportunity.”

His grin is devilish.

“Dare I ask what kind of opportunity?”

“I don’t know. Do you dare? Are you up for it? Are you really ready to take a walk on the wild side?”

“I . . . I . . . I guess that depends on what all is involved.”

As if sensing my hesitation with where the conversation is going, Jake shifts into a lighter form of attack. Lighter, but no less effective. I can feel him wearing down my defenses with every passing second.

“Well, considering we just survived a nearly fatal breakfast,” he begins.

“I’d hardly call that ‘nearly fatal.’”

He ignores my interruption. “I should probably perform a thorough physical examination,” he continues without missing a beat, stepping closer as he talks. Jake winds his arms around my waist. “Just to make sure there are no burns on your body. Or even red places. You know heat can make the skin feel very . . . sensitive. I’d be sure to treat any . . . sensitive areas right away. Massage them until they feel better. Much, much better.”

My head is swimming—whether from oxygen deprivation or from Jake, I can’t be sure—and a sublime feeling of contentment is threatening to overcome me. I should be leery, but it’s hard to concentrate on much of anything when Jake is gently swaying against me, his lower body rubbing mine.

“As professional and . . . thorough as that sounds, I’m afraid there’s a big mess to clean up now.” Even as I decline his clever offer, a fire is still burning, this one in the lowest part of my stomach. It’s a fire I know will soon need attention. And Jake will be the only one who can do anything about it.

“I’ll let it go for now. But I won’t rest until I’ve at least checked your lips. You know, in case you burned them tasting something.”

I roll my eyes and sigh dramatically. “If you must. I mean, you are a fireman.” He waggles his eyebrows comically as his head descends toward mine.

I’m loving this playful side of him. He really is charming. Which makes him even more dangerous. I didn’t realize just how extensive his allure is.

Or maybe I did.

Maybe that’s why I’ve been trying to keep a safe distance.

His kiss is light and teasing at first, but it quickly turns to more. Within seconds, I find my fingers delving into his hair and my body straining against his, craving closer contact. Craving . . . more.

When he leans back, his smile is gone and we’re both breathless. His pupils dominate the golden irises of his eyes. “Are you sure you won’t let me examine the rest of you? I can make you gasp in ways that have nothing to do with smoke inhalation.”

I laugh nervously. It seems with every word and every kiss, I’m getting closer and closer to saying yes. To jumping.

“Believe it or not, I have no doubt that’s absolutely true.”

“I guarantee you the reality of what I’ll do to you is far better than anything you can imagine.”

My heart is pounding and I’m finding it harder to remember why I shouldn’t be playing with fire this way. “Jake, I—”

“No excuses. No explanations. I know all your reasons and all your hesitations. And you don’t owe me any of them. The only thing I want to hear from those luscious lips of yours is one word. ‘Yes.’ And until you say it, this is what you’ll get,” he says, crushing his lips to mine in a kiss that sears me all the way to my soul. When my insides are like melted butter, he releases me and backs away. “But try not to burn the house down in the meantime.” He grins, turning to walk back into the house.

The smoke has dissipated considerably, but it still smells terrible. “So this is what hell is like,” I murmur as I curl up my nose and look around.

“Does that make me the devil?” Jake asks, looking back at me with one brow raised in challenge.

“The jury’s still out on that one.”

He laughs. “So, since ruining breakfast, you now have two choices for the start of your day. Option number one—which just so happens to be the one I most highly recommend—you let me carry you to the shower where I can give intense attention to making sure every inch of your skin is free of smoky residue. Option number two, we go for a run and then we come back and take a shower, after which I’ll be fixing you breakfast. One that’s not toxic.”

“You cook?” I ask, changing the subject before I impulsively choose option number one, which I’m becoming increasingly interested in.

“I’m a fireman. My chili-making skills are the stuff of legend.”

“Chili for breakfast?”

“Oh, no. I’ll tantalize your taste buds with my culinary delights. You’ll be so smitten with me, we’ll spend the following two hours in bed, where you’ll be worshipping my body as payment for such epicurean awesomeness.”

“Epicurean awesomeness?”

“Yep.”

I narrow my eyes and wrinkle my nose. “Tough choices, but I think I’ll go with option number two point five.”

“I don’t remember offering any such option.”

“Then I’ll just have to surprise you,” I say, prancing away from him as I make my way to the stairs. I have to get some distance from him before I make a big, big mistake. “You’re not the only one with skills.”

That one raven brow arches and a slow smile spreads across Jake’s face. “Decided to take up the gauntlet, did we?”

“Maybe.”

“Not gonna be the good girl after all?”

“Maybe not always.”

“Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

“I think you might be right.”

With that, I mount the steps, feeling a little bit scared, a little bit uncertain, and a little bit giddy. But most of all, I feel free.

As it turns out, I lack imagination. And courage, evidently. At least I lack the courage to really step out and be the bad girl. To take the risk.

A dozen different ways to end a run with Jake went through my mind, some sexy and some not so much. I ended up chickening out and opting to bring him out for breakfast. Sweat and all.

So, here we are. Sitting at the bar of the one diner in town that serves breakfast all day (and looks like a single-wide trailer).

“So this is point five,” Jake muses, shaking his head and looking around Rita’s.

“Point five?”

“According to you, option ‘two point five’ would be daring. I didn’t think you meant daring in the way of salmonella.”

I give him a dubious look. “You know good and well the food here is great.”

“Yet that’s not the point, is it?”

I look into his discerning amber eyes and I say nothing. He’s right. And he knows it.

“Are you really that afraid of taking a little risk? Or is it just that you’re afraid of taking a little risk with me?”