To Tame a Wild Firefighter (Red Hot Reunions Book 2) (11 page)

BOOK: To Tame a Wild Firefighter (Red Hot Reunions Book 2)
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“Are you sure this is the right place?” Faith whispered as they stepped into the lobby, an elegant room filled with thick rugs and stately antique furniture.

The check-in desk was made of wood so polished it glowed in the dim light, and across the room floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a courtyard with a pool and over-stuffed cabana chairs that looked fancier than Faith’s couch. And she’d spent good money on that couch, determined to have one thing in her apartment that wasn’t purchased at a garage sale.

“This is it.” Mick squeezed her hand. “Don’t be nervous. Naomi always does this.”

“Spends half my monthly salary on hotel rooms?” Faith muttered, clinging to Mick’s arm as they got in line behind an older couple who reeked of money.

The woman’s wedding ring was as big as the acorns Faith’s Uncle Tip used to hire her to pick up in his backyard. He’d pay her fifty cents per bucket, a salary Faith had considered more than fair at age eight, and the only way she’d ever been able to afford candy at the Quikstop after school, or the occasional trip to the movies.

“Naomi’s been rich too long,” Mick murmured. “She forgets we normal people don’t need thousand count sheets to get a good night’s sleep.”

Faith sighed. “I’m not going to be able to pay her back, Mick. I mean, this is crazy, I can’t—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Mick stepped forward as the older couple moved to speak to the elegant, blond woman manning the desk. “Like I said, she doesn’t expect to be paid back.”

“But—”

“She a billionaire, Faith,” Mick said, making Faith’s eyes open wide. “She could buy Summerville if she wanted. She’s not going to miss a few hundred dollars.”

“You’re kidding me.” Faith’s fingertips dug into his arm as Mick shook his head. “But that’s crazy. She doesn’t seem like a billionaire. I mean she’s so nice. And normal. And she eats burritos from the food truck for lunch.”

Mick chuckled. “I know. She’s grounded, but she’s also loaded, so let’s just relax and enjoy the nice rooms she’s booked. We’ll send her a thank you note when we get home and I’ll get the marble countertop she ordered for Jake’s kitchen installed next week and she’ll be totally happy.”

“Okay, I guess so,” Faith agreed, but she was still feeling out of place when the older couple stepped away from the registration desk and the blonde with the delicate gold earrings and aggressively white teeth turned her smile their way.

“Welcome to the Carriage House,” she said. “I’m Clarice, how can I help you?”

“We have reservations, the last name’s Whitehouse.” Mick pulled out his wallet and fished out his I.D. “It should be two rooms for one night each.”

“Of course, Mr. Whitehouse. Let me pull up your reservation.” Clarice dropped her attention to her monitor while she typed. After a moment she paused, brows drawing together as her eyes scanned the screen. “Well, I have the reservation, Mr. Whitehouse, but I’m showing that it’s for
one
room for
two
nights.”

Mick leaned closer. “Are you sure? I was certain my sister said two rooms.”

Clarice shook her head. “I’m so sorry, but we just have the one, and unfortunately we don’t have another room available at this time. Would you like me to call the Dixie B-and-B down the street? They might have something free later in the day.”

Mick glanced at Faith, but she didn’t wait for him to ask what she thought.

“Let’s take the one room,” she said. “I’m so tired the thought of waiting ten extra minutes to sleep makes me want to fall on the floor and have a big, nasty cry.”

Clarice laughed softly before clucking her tongue. “You poor thing. Let’s get you two settled so you can get some rest.” A moment later she slid a small envelope with key cards inside across the desk. “You’re in room seventeen, end of the hall on the second floor. You can take the staircase to the left of the lobby. Please give me a call if there’s anything you need, or if I can do anything to make your stay more comfortable.”

“Thanks so much,” Faith said, as Mick took the keys and nodded good-bye to Clarice.

He led the way around the desk, twining his fingers through hers as they walked toward the staircase, which was nothing short of grand.

“Wow. I feel like I’m in an old movie,” Faith whispered as they started up the steps.

“I feel like I’m walking through quick sand.” Mick stretched his neck to one side and then the other. “I didn’t realize how tired I was until we got out of the truck. I’m sorry about the mix-up, but I was going to join you on the floor for that nasty cry if we had to wait to book another room.”

Faith chuckled. “That wouldn’t have been very manly of you.”

“My manly takes a hit when I’m this beat.”

They reached the top of the stairs, and Mick put his arm around her shoulders as they weaved their way down a long, eggshell colored hallway with lush oil paintings of the Louisiana bayou hanging on the walls between the rooms.

“Is the carpet moving, or is it just me?” Faith blinked at the paisley pattern beneath her feet, swearing the tails of the paisleys were wiggling like tadpoles.

“It’s not just you,” Mick said. “I see it too. Now both of us are hallucinating for real.” He hugged her closer. “Hold on. Only a few more minutes, angel, and we’ll be snuggled under the covers.”

Faith giggled. “Angel? Are you kidding me?”

“You don’t like being my angel?” Mick kissed her forehead before pulling away to pluck their key card from its envelope.

“I’m nobody’s angel,” Faith said in a low voice.

“Behave, Miller,” Mick said as he opened the door. “Just because I’m so exhausted the carpet is crawling doesn’t mean I won’t take an invitation seriously.”

“Just flirtation, Whitehouse, not an invitation.” Faith smiled, patting his cheek as she slipped past him into their room.

Inside, the space was as grand as the staircase, with a four-poster bed covered in a white duvet so fluffy the mattress looked like a cloud hovering in the center of the room. Faith was dimly aware of vaulted ceilings, a chandelier, impressive furnishings, and a sitting area with an antique claw-foot sofa, but it was the bed that made her sigh with relief at the sight of it.

“Oh, man,” Mick said, stopping next to her. “Race you to see who can get ready for bed first.”

“You’re on.” By the time she reached the bathroom door, Faith already had her toothbrush and toothpaste out of her backpack.

The bathroom was as spectacular as the rest of the space—with marble countertops, double sinks, a shower and tub, mounds of thick, fluffy towels, toiletries in what looked like crystal decanters, and a toilet with a separate door of its own—but Faith hardly noticed the fancy. She was so tired she felt like a zombie fresh out of its grave. She brushed her teeth and washed her face in record time, tag-teamed Mick for the toilet, and was back beside the bed in five minutes flat.

It was only then that she paused, realizing all she’d brought with her was a change of underwear and a spare t-shirt.

“What am I going to sleep in?” Faith asked, the problem baffling her exhausted mind. There were fluffy, white robes in the closet, but they would be too hot and bulky to sleep in.

“Underwear,” Mick said, stepping out of his jeans beside her and pulling his sweater over his head. “I won’t look.”

He moved past her, wearing nothing but boxer briefs and a white undershirt, looking so good half-dressed that Faith almost hated to see his body disappear beneath the covers.

She hesitated for a second, nervous about stripping down in front of Mick for the first time. But he
had
promised he wouldn’t look and she wanted to be in that bed beside him so bad her teeth ached with it. Shoving modesty aside, Faith wriggled out of her thermal shirt, peeled off her jeans and socks, and circled around the bed to crawl in beside Mick wearing nothing but her white tank top with the built in bra and a very sensible pair of pink bikini panties.

“I didn’t think you wore pink,” Mick mumbled as she lay down.

“You said you wouldn’t look.” Faith reached back to slap his shoulder.

“I couldn’t help myself.” Mick laughed as his arm went around her waist. He pulled her back against his front, snuggling her into a spoon position so lovely feeling Faith couldn’t force herself to pull away.

“I like you in nothing but underwear,” Mick said, his breath warm and minty on her neck.

“Oh, hush.” She put her arm over his and scooted closer, fitting herself into his embrace like a key into a lock, relishing the tingles that spread over every inch of her skin as their bodies connected.

Electricity raced from the top of her head to the tips of her toes and back again, filling her with a floaty, giddy feeling even as her eyes drifted closed. She couldn’t remember feeling so relaxed and aware at the same time, but she knew she liked the feeling. She liked it a lot.

“Goodnight, baby,” Mick whispered, his lips moving against the sensitive skin at the back of her neck.

Before Faith could say she liked ‘baby’ way more than ‘angel’ she was asleep, sinking into dreams as delicious as being in Mick’s arms.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Mick

Mick woke up so hard the cramping low in his body made him wince with discomfort, but he made no move to get out of bed. He didn’t want to move, to do anything to disturb the woman asleep in his arms.

They’d shifted sometime during the day and now Faith’s head was on his chest, her arm thrown across his stomach, and her leg hitched up around his thigh. She felt warm and soft and so perfect snuggled against him that Mick didn’t even mind that she’d drooled a little on his shoulder.

In fact, he kind of liked it.

You love her snorts and like her drool. Might as well propose right now, and be done with it.

Mick smiled at the ceiling. He wouldn’t be proposing anytime soon, but he couldn’t deny how right it felt to wake up with Faith. A part of him had worried that sleep deprivation was contributing to how attached he’d been feeling by the time they reached the hotel, but now, rested and refreshed, he knew it was more than exhaustion.

He could feel the barriers he’d erected after escaping Bridget washing away. He felt lighter than he had in months, cleaner and fresher and so happy he couldn’t keep from dropping a grateful kiss to the top of Faith’s head.

“Hmm…” She moaned and shifted, sliding her leg away from his. “What time is it?”

Mick glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “Three o’clock.”

“Oh my God, you’re kidding me.” Faith lifted her head, swiping a sleepy hand across her face. “Ew.” She glanced down at his chest. “Dude, I think I drooled on you.”

“You totally drooled on me,” Mick said, arm snaking around her waist.

“I’m so sorry, I—”

“Don’t be sorry,” Mick said, rolling over, pushing her back onto the pillows. “I like it.”

Faith’s eyebrows lifted as her mouth curved at the edges. “You like it?”

“I like it.” Mick dropped his lips to her bare shoulder, pressing kisses along her clavicle until he reached the hollow of her throat.

“You’re a strange man.” Faith sighed and arched her back, granting him access to her neck as her arms wrapped around his chest.

“Good thing you like strange men.” Mick kissed her throat, her jaw, her cheek, before finally bringing his lips to hers, capturing her mouth for a long, deep kiss that drew a moan from Faith’s throat.

“I don’t know about strange men, plural,” she said, her breath coming faster as she pulled away. “But I like you an awful lot.”

“I like you too,” Mick said, fingers trailing down her side to squeeze her hip before his hand drifted back up, cupping her breast through her tank top.

Faith sucked in a breath, shifting beneath him as his thumb brushed across her nipple. Mick felt her flesh tighten through the thin fabric and thoughts of kissing her there—there and everywhere else—drifted through his mind, making his aching body pulse with need.

“God, that feels…” Faith’s words trailed off and her eyes fluttered closed as Mick circled her nipple with the pad of this thumb, once, twice, before curling his fingers over the top of her shirt and tugging the fabric down.

His first glance at her took Mick’s breath away. She was curvier than she looked in most of the clothes she wore, full and round, with ivory-pale skin and a nipple the palest shade of peach that flushed to a dusty rose at the center.

She was gorgeous, so gorgeous that the first kiss he pressed to her puckered flesh was more reverent than passionate. Her body was amazing, deserving of hours of devoted worship.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against her soft skin.

“Mick, I—” Her words ended in a gasp as Mick’s tongue flicked across her tip, teasing and swirling until Faith moaned his name.

“I want you so much.” Mick pulled the other side of her tank top down, baring her other breast.

“I want you, too.” Faith’s voice shook as her hands threaded into his hair. “But I… Shit, I can’t think when you’re doing that.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Mick flicked his tongue across her left nipple as he teased her right between his finger and thumb.

“No.” Faith spread her thighs as her chest arched closer to his mouth. Mick settled his hips between her long legs, pressing the evidence of how crazy she made him against her center.

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