Light My Fire

“I’m not sick,” Luke grumbles. “Just sick of these two assholes.”

That makes me grin. I see what Jackson clearly sees—Luke absolutely is attracted to Brooke and wants in on flirting with her but he thinks she’s a relationship type of girl.

Which she probably is.

Or maybe she’s too busy with school for that right now, who knows? She is here alone on spring break studying.

I’m definitely willing to find out exactly what she wants.

Brooke stares at Luke a second longer, but he doesn’t elaborate. She looks at me quizzically.

“Don’t mind him,” I say.

“He doesn’t know how to go with the flow,” Jackson adds. “Old bachelors are like that.”

Jackson really loves to push Luke’s buttons and waving his hand in dismissal of Luke right now is tantamount to waving a red flag in front of a bull.

Which is exactly his intention.

The game is more fun if all three of us are in on it.

Not that Brooke Wilder is a game.

More of a case of “may the best man win.”

Usually, I would agree. But I don’t exactly want more competition.

“Fuck off,” Luke tells Jackson.

“I think you need to eat, Luke,” Brooke declares. “My brother Blake always gets super hangry. When was the last time you ate? Here, have this.”

Brooke, who I strongly suspect is a little tipsy, raises a baby carrot straight up to Luke’s lips. His eyes darken and his shoulders go rigid. But when she eases it into his mouth, he flicks his tongue out and pulls the whole thing into his mouth, crunching hard.

“Thank you.” His voice is gruff but softer.

Oh, yeah. Luke is melting like the butter I’ve brushed over our steaks at Brooke’s concern.

I feel a ripple of alarm.

Jackson is just fucking with me. Is he attracted to Brooke? Sure. Who the hell wouldn’t be? She’s gorgeous and really damn sweet. But he’s not looking for forever. He’s not even looking for a relationship. He’s just having a really good time and feels like there’s plenty of time for settling down later after he figures out what he really wants long term. Which is fair. We’re only twenty-eight. There’s definitely time. And Luke is actively avoiding commitment because of the way his marriage ended a decade ago. I don’t blame him at all. That was a total shit show.

Neither of them would want more than a hookup.

I’m a different story, though. I’m ready for more than meeting girls in bars or on an app and having casual sex. I want that special someone.

Brooke is exactly what I’m looking for.

So I’ll be fucking damned if I’m going to let one of them get the jump on me.

She and I might not click. She might not want to date right now, but I’m going to at least make sure of both of those things before I tap out.

“Luke is right though,” I tell Brooke. “You should drink more water and eat.” I’m loath to leave these two alone with her while I grill outside, so I invite her to join me. “Want to be my grill master’s assistant out on the deck?”

Jackson shakes his head at me. Luke gives me a glare.

I give them both a look in return that I know they interpret correctly: I’m all in here.

Brooke nods. “Sure.”

We put our boots and coats on, then I take the tray with the seasoned steaks in my hand and head to the back deck. Brooke opens the slider door for me. When we step out, I suck in a sharp breath when a cutting wind hits me. “Damn, it’s cold out here all of a sudden.”

“It is Minnesota.”

“Fair enough.”

“It’s snowing already,” she says, looking nervously at the sky as I turn on the propane for the grill.

The back deck is a sweet setup with a built-in kitchen with a prep area and an overhang. “At least there’s a roof over us out here.”

“I’m worried about the storm. I have exams on Tuesday.”

A glance over shows she’s biting her lip and crossing her arms across her chest.

“We’ll get you out of here, no matter what.” I can’t actually guarantee that but I’ll do whatever is humanly possible to get her home on time. “Where do you go to school?”

“The University of Minnesota. I’m a third year vet student. I’m due to start my clinicals in a few weeks. Assuming I pass my finals.”

“How confident are you on a scale of one to ten?” I ask, using tongs to drop the steaks on the grill.

“Nine point nine.”

That makes me grin. “Then you’ll be fine. That sounds like an amazing career. I love animals.”

“Do you have any pets?”

“Nah. I would if I had a different job. But working twenty-four-hour stretches makes it way too hard. That wouldn’t be fair to a pet.”

“Unless it’s a lizard or a snake.”

“Exactly. But I much prefer the furry variety of pets. Dogs and cats. How about you—do you have a pet?”

She shakes her head. “No, for the same reason as you. I’m too busy. I’m really looking forward to clinicals for that reason. Lots of opportunities to soothe scared animals. I find that very rewarding. And healing them too, of course, if they’re sick.”

“I bet you’re very soothing.” I mean that sincerely, but my voice drops a little. Mostly from a growing desire I have to kiss her but also because the air is so still in this snowfall I don’t want to interrupt nature.

She picks up on the tone. Her eyes lock on mine and then suddenly she turns around and steps out into the snow, lifting her head to let fat flakes drift down over her face.

I check the steaks and then join her. “This view is incredible.”

It is. It’s quickly transforming into a winter wonderland, with the wet snow clinging to the tree branches that surround us at every turn.

“It’s beautiful. I love it here.” Her tone is wistful and appreciative.

Her cheeks are pink from the cold, her breath coming out in tiny bursts of steam, her eyelashes coated with melting snow that she doesn’t bother to wipe away. She turns to me and smiles. “If this keeps up, we can build a snowman.”

I think, in that moment, I fall just a little bit in love with Brooke Wilder.

I’ll build her a ten foot tall snowman if that will impress her.

“Hell, yeah.”

Turning back to the steaks before they’re overdone and Luke “I want it practically mooing” Moody hands me my ass for ruining his dinner, I grab the tongs.

The slider door opens. “Hey, guys?”

It’s Jackson.

“Yeah?”

“The power just went out.”

“What?” Brooke’s head whips around and she peers at the suddenly dark house.

With our backs turned, we didn’t even notice the lack of light.

Jackson barely has the door cracked and his head is crammed between the frame and the slider, as if that still isn’t somehow letting a bunch of cold air into the cabin. “Yep. Flickered, went out, came back on for a hot second, then gone again. Does the fireplace work? Please tell me it’s gas.”

“It’s wood-burning.” She puts her hand on Jackson’s chest and pushes him back inside. “You’re letting all the heat out.”

This cabin is easily five thousand square feet. There’s no way a cabin this tricked out on an island in Minnesota doesn’t have a generator. The fact that the electricity came back on for a second tells me that. I like machinery and tinkering and I have a talent for it. I feel reasonably confident I can solve whatever the problem is.

But as I follow Brooke inside and shut the slider behind me, juggling the platter of steaks, I think better of fixing it immediately. There is something romantic as hell about a roaring fire, a snowstorm, and dinner by candlelight.

Plus, we’ll have to stay close to each other for heat. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do right now than get under a blanket with Brooke.

“Great. So this is how I die,” Jackson says, sounding incredibly unconcerned by that fact.

Luke snorts. “And why is that?”

“We have no heat. Brooke said it’s a wood-burning fireplace.”

“And Wyatt and I are firefighters. We know how to light a pile of wood.” Luke has the flashlight on his phone on and it’s providing a decent amount of light.

I set the platter on the kitchen island.

“We’re city guys. We don’t know how to survive. Our food is going to go bad. I better crack a beer while it’s still cold.” Jackson opens the fridge in the dark and rummages around, bottles clanking. Something falls on the floor but I can’t see what it is.

“Take all the beer out and the rest of the food and put it on the deck,” Luke tells him. “It will obviously stay cold out there.”

“Brooke, do you have any flashlights or candles here?” I ask her, turning my own phone flashlight on.

“They’re right over the refrigerator in that cabinet. I can’t reach it though.”

That makes me frown. What would have happened if Brooke had actually been here alone? The thought makes me agitated. I’m really fucking glad we got here early.

“Jackson, get the flashlights.”

“I’m saving the beer first,” he says, standing up with two six packs clutched against his chest. “Hang on.”

Luke gives a huff of impatience and retrieves two flashlights himself. He turns one on and hands it to Brooke. He keeps the other one, flicking the switch, and then turning his phone light off.

“Let me start a fire, then we can eat,” I say. “We don’t want these steaks to get cold.”

“Great idea,” Luke agrees. “We can eat at the coffee table in front of the fireplace.”

Brooke wanders away into the family room, setting her water down on the coffee table. Then she opens the fireplace flue and the glass door, efficiently beginning to lay a fire from the kindling in a basket on the hearth.

“Guess she’s got the fire,” I murmur to Luke, impressed.

“Guess so.” He cuts open the baked potatoes he pulled out of the oven. “These probably aren’t done yet but I guess they’ll do.” He shoots me a look. “Unless you want to take a crack at fixing the generator.”

He’s on to me.

“How do you know there’s a generator?”

“Because I saw it when we pulled up. It’s on the south side of the house.”

“I’ll look at it after we eat. I don’t want my steak to get cold.”

“Aren’t you concerned that Brooke is worried?” His voice is still low, so she can’t hear us.

“Does she look worried?” I gesture to her, squatting down in front of the fireplace. Her kindling is already lit, and she’s building a log tower over it.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know what the hell you and Jackson are doing, but I don’t like it. She’s way too young.”

That makes me laugh. “For you, maybe. Not for me. And have you looked at her?”

“More than I’d like to admit.”

I grin. “You just did. You like her.” I’m both amused and a little threatened. Luke has that brooding emotionally unavailable crap going on that women scoop up like ice cream.

He’s a real barrier to my plan.

So is Jackson because he’s ridiculously good looking, charming, fun, and has bagfuls of cash.

I don’t have what either of them does. But I do have a secret weapon—I’m a fucking nice guy.

Brooke seems like a girl who actually appreciates a nice guy.

Especially one who always makes sure his girl comes first. In and out of bed. It matters to me to take care of a woman’s needs.

I carry two plates to the family room. Jackson has returned from his mission to save his microbrews and in a minute, we’re all eating on the floor at the coffee table. Jackson is complimenting Brooke’s fire building skills so effusively she’s becoming uncomfortable. She said thank you the first two times but now she’s giggling nervously.

“Just eat,” I tell him when he makes a third comment.

“What? I’m impressed.”

“So you’ve said. Three times.”

“I don’t know how to build a fire,” he says, picking up his beer bottle.

“Then I guess you’ll never win Survivor.” I shove a piece of beef in my mouth. He’s actually getting on my nerves.

Jackson eyes me. He’s wearing a smirk. “My steak is overdone.”

I ignore him. “Brooke, do you need anything? I’m going to grab myself a beer.”

“No, I’m good, thank you.”

“I need another beer,” Jackson says.

I’m tempted to tell him to get it himself but I don’t want to look petty or childish in front of Brooke. I’m also reluctant to leave her alone with my competition for more than sixty seconds so I retrieve one off the deck as quickly as possible. When I sink back onto the carpet in the family room, Brooke has pushed her plate away.

“I’m full,” she says. “That was delicious, though.”

“I’m done too.” Jackson seems more interested in his drink and Brooke than his steak or salad.

Luke is the only one who’s eaten every bite. He also does seem to be in a better mood. Brooke was right—maybe he was just hangry.

“We should push the sofa and a couple of chairs closer to the fireplace,” he says. “Maybe we can watch a movie on my phone.”

“That’s a great idea,” Brooke says. She holds her hands out to the blazing fire. “It’s really not cold right here.”

“Here,” I say to Jackson, stacking plates and shoving them at him. “You clean up. Luke and I can move the sofa.”

He doesn’t protest. Probably because he doesn’t enjoy physical labor. He’d rather throw dishes in the dishwasher than lift furniture. He takes the dishes to the kitchen.

Brooke adds more wood to the fire and Luke shifts the coffee table out of the way.

Five minutes later, we’re all on the sofa single file, me on the left of Brooke, Jackson on her right. Luke has taken the outside seat, next to the end table. We pushed the sofa forward as much as we could, but I have to admit, the air is getting a little brisk in the cabin.

Brooke found candles in the linen closet so they’re scattered around the room.

“The wind is really howling out there,” Jackson says. He’s put on a sweater and he tugs at the neckline to cover more of his bare skin.

A glance out the window reveals it’s nearly whiteout conditions now. The gentle snow a mere thirty minutes ago has ramped up into a blizzard. Fixing the generator is going to be a complete pain in my ass now, so I’d better make this delay worth it.

“It’s cooling down in here,” Brooke says with a little shiver.

“Here,” Luke says, grabbing a blanket from the basket next to the sofa. He spreads it out over me and then Brooke.

His hands brush over her thighs in the process and he yanks them back as if he was scalded. The man has it bad for Brooke, that’s fucking obvious.

“I just realized we can’t use the hot tub,” Jackson says. “That sucks.”

“The hot tub sounds amazing right now,” Brooke says, rubbing her hands together and shivering.

I take her hands in mine. They’re ice cold. I cup them and blow on her skin to warm her hands up. Her eyebrows shoot up and she shivers again.

“What should we watch?” Luke asks, scrolling through his phone. “A Cabin in the Woods?”

“Hell, no,” Jackson says. “How about something that takes place in the city? Like Batman.”

I let them debate several titles. I wrap my arm around Brooke’s waist. “Still cold?” I murmur, leaning down so my mouth is close to her ear.

She shivers again and nods.

“Come here then. I’ll warm you up.”

I haul her right onto my lap and wrap my arms around her, pulling her back against my chest. Brooke gasps.

“Wyatt, I’ll crush you…”

I snort. “Uh, no you won’t. The firehose weighs more than you do and I haul that multiple times a week. Just relax back and we’ll share our body heat.”

She feels incredible tucked up against me, her tight little ass wiggling a bit on my lap. I already have a hard on and it’s clear she feels it. She glances back at me, tongue flicking across her bottom lip. But then she faces forward again and relaxes into the hold.

“This is better,” she says. “You’re very warm.”

I pull her long hair back over her shoulder, making sure to brush my fingertips against her jawline in the process. She glances back at me in question.

“Your hair was caught,” I lie.

She sighs. It’s a sexy sigh, not one of displeasure. “Thank you.”

“How about Backdraft?” Jackson says. “The firefighters die in that one.”

“Let’s watch Fifty Shades of Grey,” Brooke says.

“Great choice,” I tell her.

Not because I care about some guy and his secretary—I think that’s what it’s about—but because it tells me Brooke is open to watching sex scenes with us. She’s either comfortable or she’s flirting.

Luke groans. “Please. No. Anything but that.”

Jackson shoots me a grin. “We crashed Brooke’s weekend. She gets to pick the movie.”

“Thanks, Jackson.” She smiles at him.

I tighten my grip a little on her waist and prepare to spend the next ninety minutes enjoying the feel of Brooke Wilder on my lap.