Where there’s smoke there’s fire…
MELT WITH YOU
After ten years as America’s sweetest celebrity chef, Naomi Whitehouse is enjoying life out of the spotlight. Life is good until she runs into her high school sweetheart, a sexy firefighter who gives her a reception chilly enough to freeze a forest fire. But as the month passes, Jake and Naomi discover some fires never burn out.
HOT FOR YOU
Faith Miller has faith in two things—her surrogate firehouse family, and her own two hands—and she needs a man in her life like a fish needs a bicycle. But when Mick Whitehouse moves back to Summerville, Faith’s happy, single life is turned upside down. Soon, Faith must choose: let fear of repeating her mother’s mistakes send her running, or have faith in the man she’s come to love?
SWEET TO YOU
When s'mores and whiskey shots lead to skinny-dipping at a singles' camping retreat, Maddie Whitehouse knows she won't be able to resist another steamy encounter with the sexy firefighter her childhood friend, Jamison, has become...even if he is off limits.
Fire and Icing Book Two
“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.
About the Author:
She's married to the man of her dreams, and together they're raising a few adorable, mischievous children in a tree house in the boonies. She grew up in rural Arkansas, spending summers running wild, being chewed by chiggers, and now appreciates her home in a chigger-free part of the world even more.
When she's not writing, Jessie enjoys playing her dulcimer (badly), sewing the worlds ugliest quilts to give to her friends, going for bike rides with her house full of boys, and wandering the woods, glass of wine and camera in hand, on the lookout for Bigfoot.
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