Her Sexy Challenge (Firefighters of Station 1) Page 18

  “I love you,” he said. He touched the back of her head, tentatively at first, then pulled her in when she didn’t resist. And how could she? He was reeling her in, just like he’d always been able to do. “The elevators in Denver,” he said, leaning to brush his lips against hers. “They all seem to be working just fine.”

  “I don’t believe that last one,” she told him.

  “Maybe not,” he admitted, “but I was going for a thing.”

  “Which is?”

  “All the excitement I could ever want is here. With you. If you’ll have me.”

  “You left,” she said quietly.

  “I did,” he said, matching her tone. “And that means you won’t ever have to wonder what I gave up for you. It wasn’t right for me, Caitlin. Not with you here. This thing between us, it’s worth fighting for.”

  Her frustration fled in the wake of his words. No way he’d come back to throw anything insincere at her, but if ever she needed to not melt, it was now.

  Melting now was the worst thing ever.

  “I love you, too,” she told him, “but under one condition.”

  “Anything,” he said.

  “Scoot over so I can get off this bridge.”

  Epilogue

  Eight months later

  Caitlin had to be the only person she knew to have ever twice found herself on a bridge surrounded by emergency responders.

  She could only hope this time ended as well as the last.

  Butterflies rioted in her chest. A breeze rustled her gown. She couldn’t help but feel self-conscious, but how many brides traded the center aisle of a church for a closed-off lane of traffic in the center of the cross-town bridge?

  They’d had to promise the ceremony would be quick. At the time, she hadn’t wanted to rush her wedding. Now that she was back on the little engineering marvel that had started it all, rushing seemed like the best idea ever had by anyone.

  “You okay?” Shane asked.

  “Hanging in there,” she told him. “But at least this time it’s not the bridge stopping my heart.” All those nerves…it was because of him. Not because she thought he was going anywhere, but because he was hers, and the enormity of that had no chance of sinking in. In fact, she hoped it never would, because it wasn’t something she wanted to take for granted.

  “If you have a thing against me dragging you onto bridges, we’ll have to come up with a suitable punishment.”

  She adjusted her dress, hoping the highway grit wouldn’t stain the hem. “You keep it up and we’ll see.”

  “I think this was your idea,” he said.

  And not a terrible one. The day was gorgeous. So was her soon-to-be husband. Their families were there, happy and acting like old friends. Everything was perfect, including the fact that they were suspended over a river raging several feet below.

  “I made a joking suggestion,” she reminded him, “never dreaming they’d actually shut down traffic.” Again. It was the third time traffic had stopped for her on this bridge, not that she was counting, but only the second time paramedics were in attendance. She called that progress.

  “That’s what you get when you marry a man who knows how to make things happen.” He wound his fingers through hers, this stolen moment before a wedding she wouldn’t have imagined eight months ago. “I love you, Caitlin.”

  “I’m pretty sure I love you more,” she told him. When he gave her a questioning look, she explained, “I’m on a bridge.”

  He grinned. “You are. And you’re beautiful, and you’re mine, and I’ve never wanted anything more.” He punctuated the words with a kiss totally worth stopping traffic for.

  And this time, she didn’t care who saw.

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  Acknowledgments

  This book would not exist without OMG HEATHER HOWLAND KNOWS MY NAME, who might rue the day she met me, but at least now knows how my husband shops for batteries. (But NOT what he did with them. Ahem.) She was so patient during what had to be a torturous editing process that I’m almost certain the open invitation to lurk in her flowerbed is a trap, but one of these days I’ll go anyway because she’s freaking HEATHER HOWLAND and working directly with her has been one of the biggest honors of my life. Maybe one day I’ll even be able to talk with her on the phone without fangirling, wheezing, and generally embarrassing myself, but don’t count on it. Like, ever. Because, erm, she’s Heather Howland.

  Kira-Archer-slash-Michelle-McLean, my #creepytwin, I have no idea how I’d get through a single word without you. Writing is a solitary existence, but having you there has made it feel like a years-long slumber party. Plus, you don’t touch my rum, so we’re beyond cool. (Until I break out the spiders, but they’re just little things. Besides which, revenge has been had. *shudder*)

  My family… We’ve been through this over twenty times now, and you’re still speaking to me. Which I love and appreciate, though also suspect when I’m down to the wire on a deadline, you’re all happier when I disappear to write. (Y’all didn’t know I’d figured that out, did you?) Thanks for tolerating me through the worst of it.

  Ryan, you’re the best part of every hero I write. (And you make them all look bad, so thanks for that.)

  For my readers, and in particular the members of my street team, your support means the world to me. I wouldn’t be here without you.

  And finally, a special shout out to Heather-from-Maine, whose stories of horrifyingly awkward moments have kept me in hysterics. I’m so glad to give you a heroine to whom you can really relate. Now excuse me while I back away before any of this rubs off on me. (Just kidding. I’ll see you on release day…but don’t touch my rum.)

  About the Author

  Sarah and her husband of what he calls “many long, long years” live on the mid-Atlantic coast with their six young children, all of whom are perfectly adorable when they’re asleep. She never dreamed of becoming an author, but as a homeschooling mom, she often jokes she writes fiction because if she wants anyone to listen to her, she has to make them up. (As it turns out, her characters aren’t much better than the kids.) When not buried under piles of laundry, she may be found adrift in the Atlantic (preferably on a boat) or seeking that ever-elusive perfect writing spot where not even the kids can find her.

  She loves creating unforgettable stories while putting her characters through an unkind amount of torture—a hobby that has nothing to do with living with six children. (Really.) Though she adores sexy contemporary romance, Sarah writes in many genres including historical and ghostly supernatural romance and romantic suspense. Her ever-growing roster of releases may be found on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, iBooks, Google Books, and Entangled Publishing.

  Also by Sarah Ballance

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  Five Things I Love About You

  For Seven Nights Only

  The 48-Hour Hookup

  The Three-Week Arrangement

  The Millionaire’s Gamble

  Gambling on the Bodyguard

  One Night with the Billionaire

  The Marriage Agenda

  Ruby Hill

  Discover historical romance by Sarah Ballance

  Her Wicked Sin

  An Unexpected Sin

  The Sins of a Few

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