He looked up from where he was folding a hose, dropped his gaze back to his task at hand, then jerked his attention back to her. “What are you doing here?” he asked so loud, his question echoed off the towering garage space.
“I brought you and the boys a thank-you basket.”
“Please tell me there are lemon bars,” Mark Trainor said as he and Bryant swarmed her like hungry seagulls. She’d gone to high school with both of them.
“Of course there are lemon bars.” She handed over the basket, but snatched a box out before the boys laid waste to all the sweets she’d made them.
“This one is for you,” she said, holding it out to Sexy Yeti.
He shifted his weight from side to side, like a starving animal that debated the trustworthiness of her offered beef jerky.
“She isn’t going to bite you, Aaron,” Mark griped at him.
“Aaron,” she murmured, testing his name on her tongue.
Around a bite of lemon bar, Mark said, “Yeah, you’re looking at the Aaron Keller of the Breck Crew.”
“What?” she squawked, too loud. Her heart leapt into her throat. She eyed him and tried to match his face to the boy who had been all over the news when the bear shifters had first come out to the public. He’d been a little blond, wholesome, squeaky-voiced kid when his crew had first made national news. Now he was a tall, strapping, tatted-up beefcake on a Harley.
Aaron angled his face away, his eyes hardening. Clenching his jaw, he took the offered box from her palm and ripped the lid off. He stared at the frosted bear-shaped pastry inside. “What’s this?”
“This is my apology. The list…” She pulled it out of her pocket and showed him where she’d marked off number fourteen. “My sister made this list when we were in college, and I just kind of adopted it. She dated a shifter her sophomore year, a wolf. He was awful so she added it to the list. I just didn’t want you to think I was prejudiced against you.” Really, she’d been nipples-deep in guilt for the past couple of nights.
“Hmm,” he said, nonchalantly.
“Aaron Keller,” she murmured in disbelief. “I had a poster of you on my wall when I was growing up.”
His eyebrows lowered over those clear blue eyes of his. “Why?”
“Because you were just a little older than me when shifters came out. I remember where I was when I saw your uncle Change your aunt on television. I remember Cora Keller’s documentary on the news, and you were in it. And over the years, I would catch glimpses of you in interviews and pictures. I kind of watched you grow up, and you were hitting the milestones I was about to hit. Middle school, high school, driving. You were so…” Cute. Her cheeks heated and she ducked her gaze. “Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“Just so you know, wolves are assholes. Shifters aren’t all like that, though.”
“I know.” Well, now she did.
“I’m not looking for a mate.”
Shocked, she jerked her gaze to his. “Okay. I’m not looking for…that…either. Not from you. I have a date tonight. And I’m moving out of state soon anyway. As soon as my lease is up on my café, I’m moving to Madison, Wisconsin. Or maybe Boulder, Colorado. I read this article on the top hundred places to live in the country right now, and those made top ten.” She was rambling so she clacked her teeth closed and swallowed her urge to tell this man her whole life story. Aaron Keller. Didn’t that beat all? Maybe she should get his autograph.
“I’ve been asking you out for two years,” Bryant said, offended. “Who are you going on a date with?”
“Someone from Asheville. I met him online. He looks very charming in his profile picture, and we are probably going to get married and have a dozen babies,” she teased.
“Wow, you’re creepily optimistic,” Aaron said, his eyes narrowed to blue little slits.
“There is nothing creepy about optimism.”
“I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t go out with me,” Bryant said through a baiting grin, like the brute had ever shown any interest before now.
Aaron snatched the list from her hand and pointed at number four. “She’s not into extra small dicks.”
Alana laughed and clapped her hand over her mouth.
“Aw, man that’s messed up,” Bryant said, shoving another lemon bar into his maw.
“Some girls like little penises, Bryant,” Mark consoled him through a grin. “They think they’re cute.”
“Stop it,” Bryant muttered.
“It’s like a ’lil belly button.”
Bryant snatched the entire basket from Mark’s hands and told him to, “Fuck off.”
“Come on, Alana,” Aaron said, handing her back the list. “I’ll give you a tour of the firehouse before you go.”
Well, at least he wasn’t kicking her out straight away. She followed him to an open door on the far wall of the garage.
“There’s the turnout room where we store our gear. That’s where we dress when the alarm sounds.”
She peeked into the room, lined wall-to-wall with helmets, yellow fire suits, and gear. “And you get into the firetruck fully dressed?”
“For the most part. We’re usually still pulling on a few things while we’re getting there.”
When she turned around, she ran into the solid wall of his chest and bounced off. Damn, the man didn’t even move, but he did reach out and steady her arms so fast he blurred.