All Fired Up Read Online Free PDF

her arms.
    “You will give me clothes.” The sheet slipped down around his hips, exposing lush curves of muscle.
    Her mouth felt like the Sahara. “Hah! What makes you think I have anything that will fit you?” She winced at the loudness of her own voice and pressed her palms to her temples. So much for the aspirin.
    “Then I will go as I am, law or not.” He folded his arms across his chest. The sheet finished its descent to the floor. He didn’t seem to care that he was naked again.
    Oh my. A new, more intimate part of her body started throbbing. She threw up her hands. “Fine! Wait here.”
    Mumbling under her breath, she went to her bedroom, returning a few minutes later with a bundle.
    “Here.” She tossed a football jersey in his direction without looking, even though she wanted to. “These were supposed to be part of the bonfire so I don’t care if you stretch them out. These sweatpants are gonna be small but they’re all I have.” Eyes on the wall, she flung the pants in the same direction.
    “ Sweat pants?”
    She glanced over her shoulder. He held the pants out with two fingers and sniffed at them.
    She turned around, hands on her hips. “For Pete’s sake, that’s just what they’re called. They’re perfectly clean, just put them on already.”
    He laughed softly. She was staring again. And not at his face.
    Her cheeks went supernova. She spun back toward the wall and tried to think about baseball and math. “Hurry up, I’m hungry and hung over and in no mood for your games.”
    “I am not playing games, Calleigh lass. You will know when I am playing games with you, trust me.”
    The tone of his voice implied things she didn’t want to think about. Or maybe she did want to think about them. Focus! “Are you dressed yet?”
    “Aye.”
    She pivoted to face him. Tight didn’t accurately describe the sweatpants. The peel on a banana fit looser. He filled out the jersey like he wore the proper padding underneath. People were going to think he shopped in the kid’s department.
    A bead of sweat trickled down her spine. The temperature in her home seemed directly connected to the tightness of his clothes. She stared again but he had clothes on now, and there was no sin in staring at a clothed man. Not much sin, anyway.
    “Um, okay, let’s go.” After grabbing her purse off the sofa table and her umbrella from the corner, she pulled the door open. The cool blast was a refreshing change from the hot, cinnamon-scented air in her apartment. She glanced over at him. “Can everybody see you or is this my own personal mental problem?”
    His mouth quirked slightly. “I am visible to all.”
    “Great. Fabulous. Just what I was hoping for.” She rolled her eyes. “Try not to draw attention to yourself, okay? I grew up here. People know me.”
    “Aye.” He stood on the landing, looking down the block.
    Thanks to the steady drizzle, the street was empty. Calleigh opened the umbrella and handed it to him. She turned to lock the door and dropped her keys in the process. Bending to pick them up, she saw his bare toes.
    Groaning, she locked the door and pointed at his feet. “Those are not going to work.”
    He scrunched his brow and looked down. He flexed his toes. “My feet work very well.”
    “Not barefoot, they don’t. You can’t go in the diner like that and besides, it’s rainy and cold.”
    “Cold?” He held his hand out as if feeling the air. “This is not cold.”
    “Well, it is to me. C’mon, we have to get you some shoes.”
    They walked three blocks over to the Dollar Discount, where she bought him socks, a pair of sneakers, a sweatshirt and jeans. He came out of the restroom wearing his new clothes. Even in cheap duds he looked hot. She balled up the jersey and sweatpants and stuffed them in the store bag as they headed for the diner.
    She calculated what she’d just spent. Lunch for a week. “You know, when I thought about getting a roommate, I imagined one with a