202 Cherry Popper Way: A Small Town Friends to Lovers Firefighter Romance

Two days later I flip the lights on in my bakery and pull the curtains down. I turn the lock to closed behind me and dim the overheads to low over the small tables dotting the entrance. Normally fresh flowers from the Flower Patch decorate the little two-seater tables with a couple of candles here and there.

But not today. It kind of breaks my heart to see the shelves empty and none of my usual customers eating all the gooey confections I bake up.

Soon. Very soon I’ll be back in business. Thankfully the insurance companies work faster in a town this small and the repairs have already started.

The brick wall needs the soot scrubbed off, but the construction crew has promised my apartment and business will be ready in another five days. I can live with that.

I set my bag down by the back door. Miles has been dodging me. Getting home after I fall asleep and gone before I wake. Instead of enjoying yet another wonderful microwavable bean and cheese burrito and binge-watching cop shows alone, I came here a little after I heard him leave this morning.

Another day of his icy wall and I might start throwing spatulas at the man for stress relief. I’ll stick it out at the Manor House Hotel. At least there the food is better and I don’t have to deal with a moody firefighter who takes scowl-wearing as a new form of art.

Right now I don’t have it in me to deal with visitors so I leave only the kitchen lights on and make my way toward the back.

I’ve baked all day, only taking a break for a short walk around the fountain. An hour there, my lungs full of fresh air and I still don’t have an answer for Miles’ outburst back at the orphanage. Or for his hurtful words. That man. He drives me crazy.

But I don’t have the luxury of piecing his puzzle together right now. I re-baked, decorated and prepared the amethyst wedding cake order ruined in the fire. My shoulders ache and my back might permanently be out of alignment, but it’s done.

Now, only one more to go. This stupid penis cake. Ugh, I drop my head to rest on my forearms, calling forth all the energy of every baking goddess before me to give me the strength.

I am reaching for the piping bag when I feel him. The crackling shift of energy. It’s palpable. Like a million tiny fairies sprinkling glitter over my whole body and I can feel every little speck of magic in the air.

The soft thud of his work boots on my hardwood flooring has me tensing before I pull around to face him.

“I thought you’re against crime?”

I lean a hip against the counter and debate calling the sheriff just to mess with my intruder. Give back a little of what he dished out. How I wish I could be so petty.

Miles, dressed all in black and a sinful smile, prowls across the front of the bakery.

His dark gaze narrows on mine. “Yeah, but we all have a dark side, baby. All of us. I just happen to use mine for good.”

He doesn’t stop, not until he’s around the front counter and the heat of his body caresses against mine. He rests strong hands on my shoulders, but I’m not ready to just fall into the big oaf’s arms.

“That so? Breaking into my place? For good?”

“How else can I apologize? You weren’t there when I came home.”

“And?”

“And I want you to know I’m sorry. I’m an asshole of epic proportions. You didn’t deserve my words the other day and I truly am sorry for hurting you.”

“You were a dick when you didn’t have to be with me.”

“With you, no. I knew it then but the rage inside me wouldn’t listen to reason with those kids in danger. I’ve never reacted like that before.”

“I’m sure you’ve never seen hurt kids like that before.”

Some kind of darkness pulls over his expression and for a second, before he pulls the mask back in place I see the underlying layer he’s always alluding to. The darker side of Miles Malone he wants no one to see. “What?” I ask bravely, knowing he’ll rebuff my attempt to move another puzzle piece of the man into place.

“I’ve seen more than I care to talk about, sweetheart. Let’s leave it at that.” Like I thought. An answer but at the same time, not an answer. That’s fine. He doesn’t owe me one. But I sure wish he would open up and let me help.

He pulls me into his arms and holds me against his chest like I am a lifeline. A large hand cradling the back of my head, another over my lower back. Or, it could all be my imagination getting the better of me. Either way, it feels good to just rest my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat in my ear for several seconds. No words, but being.

“But you weren’t wrong,” I say, lifting my eyes to his. “ The director and the caregiver. They left teens alone which always spell trouble when they get bored.”

He raises and drops a shoulder. “I wasn’t trying to be right.”

“My gran always said I was too nice, too forgiving,”

“Too cute ’n tasty too. Tell me about her.”

“She’s the reason I became a pastry chef. She taught me everything. My instructors at culinary school were always complimenting me because of what Gran taught me before I even knew I loved baking. Like she knew I would all along. Even through my professional kissing phase.”

His face falls into a frown. “Your what?”

I wave a hand. “Never mind. It never got off the ground. Now it’s your turn. How did you end up in Cherry Falls as fire chief?”

His hands rest on either side of my neck and he traces small circles right under my earlobes that has me half wanting to hear what he has to say and half wanting to rip his clothes off and go all Jane of the Jungle on him.

“It wasn’t my original plan. I liked cop uniforms better and I got to carry a gun. Did ten years. Did a little undercover work in narcotics and pulled out before a bust could turn deadly.”

I blink up at him, sort of stunned.

He cups the sides of my face in the palms of his hands. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you set fire to your bakery just so you could get me in your bed.”

Wow, he didn’t waste time. The man came here on a mission and no number of questions are going to deter him. I kind of dig it.

I smile. “You mean my kitchen?”

He grabs my hips and hauls me up to sit on a counter. “Because technically, we’ve yet to use a bed.” My nipples tighten in anticipation and I widen my legs, thankful for it being another skirt day.

Warm, callused fingers brush over my legs and when they dip into the band of my underwear I draw in a shuddering breath.

“Miles.”

I tighten my arms around his shoulders and his mouth is so close to mine I can already taste the black cherry mocha he drank on the way here.

“Why start now? I have an idea, though. How about we set a fire of our own?”

***

Miles

I knew the second Bela wasn’t at my place, I had to find her. She’s nothing like any of the women I’ve ever allowed myself to get close to. Which are few to begin with.

“I like the sound of that, Chief,” she coos in this sexy husk that goes straight to my dick. I’m harder than I’ve ever been. I sink my fingers into the flesh of her ass and haul her over the ridge of my cock fighting to bust through my zipper.

Her nipples are hard points pushing through the thin material of her shirt and tease me to take them in my mouth. I knew it would come to this—me losing it over this woman. I fought it, and the only thing that got me was a ravenous appetite for the sweetest treat in this town. Now that I’ve had her on my tongue, wrapped around my body, I want more.

I undo my belt and enjoy the way her eyes catch every movement my hands make. Her heels press into my ass, pulling me back to her when I put too much space between us.

“Greedy little baker.”

“No, hungry little baker. I’d invite you upstairs to my place for that bed, but—”

“But nothing.” I take her ass in hand and head for the stairs tucked behind a door at my back.

With her in my arms, I take them two at a time knowing the damage to her place is on the opposite side of the apartment from her bedroom. I might have fibbed about her being unable to stay here while the crew repairs the flooring.

Blood roars through my ears and my balls throb to the need to have her. I kick open her bedroom door and waste no time in stripping us both.

She seems to feel the same urgency. Pants, shoes, her top, my shirt. Everything goes flying and I don’t slow down until I have her skin on mine.

Soft hands touch every inch of my chest, abs and lower when I spread out over the bed.

“Miles, you’re so beautiful.” Her hands are all over the tattoos covering my chest and arms.

“That’s my line for you, gorgeous. Come here.”

I hold my hands out for her to climb on top, but she has other ideas. Holding my gaze, the little hellcat sticks out her tongue and drags it up from my balls to the head of my cock.

I latch onto her hair and tug. Not too hard just enough to let her know she’s going to pay for that little trick in a good way.

“How the fuck did you know to do that, woman?” I rasp through gritted teeth.

She smiles so big I know I’m in trouble with this one.

“Chatty girlfriends on Wine Wednesday.”

“Wine what?” I shake my head. “Never mind.” I replace her hand on my shaft and hold the head out for her. A dollop of precum sits on the tip and when she flicks her tongue out to clean it away, my balls draw up ready to empty into her mouth.

“I swear to God, woman. Come here. Take me in your mouth. I want to feel your lips on me.” She drinks me in with those hungry eyes and my cock jerks as if it knows she is about to send us to heaven.

She spreads over me, her warm skin against mine. Her breasts press against my chest and fuck, I can come right now from how perfect they feel raking against my abs as she moves lower, wrapping those fingers of hers around my throbbing cock.

Those red lips of hers are insanely good on me. I swell inside her mouth and when the tip of my cock hits the back of her throat she swallows. I make a mental note to thank her girlfriends for all the sage advice they shared.

She slides her warm mouth down me again, and I can’t look away from how she takes me all in. Jesus H. Christ. She sucks me faster, but a hand to the back of her head has her slowing. She releases the head with a juicy pop, those big brown eyes wide with lust.

I’d love nothing more than to let her finish me with her mouth, but I have to feel her grip me, take me in, and coat me with all her girl-cum. I hook my hands under her arms and drag her back to where I can consume her mouth.

Hands buried in her hair, we drink each other in, our tongues dueling until the world fades to only us. My cock throbs with unrelenting heat against her thigh.

I straddle her over me, poise the head of my cock at her entrance, and growl with so much pleasure at feeling her take me inside. Hands on her hips, I set the pace, and every time she takes me in I thrust up when she is ready to take the last inch of me. Her gasps are my personal treats to savor.

She moans so beautifully, panting and arching and I feel like I have an angel riding my cock. Every little move of her hips, every rake of her nails over my stomach, and my release threatens to overtake me. I draw in a harsh breath through clenched teeth and force it back. I’m not ready. Not yet. I want to give her so much more pleasure.

My fingers trace over the cute little Be Brave tattoo on her shoulder and love how she shudders from my touch. Two whisks crisscross under the words with a rolling pin as the base. So fucking her. It’s perfect. She’s perfect.

Her soft hands trail up her stomach to palm her breasts. Red-tipped fingers tease those pink little nipples and I want a taste.

“Hold them just like that for me,” I command roughly. I push up, arms around her, and take a nipple in my mouth, working the tip with my tongue. I tease and taste one and then the other until I feel the walls of her channel tighten around me. I reach between us and stroke a thumb over the little bead. She screams as she explodes, her pussy walls flexing and contracting around my cock.

“Fuck, baby, you’re milking me.” I fuck her through her orgasm and the first ropes of my sperm don’t coat her velvety walls until she’s falling into another. Neither of us ever thought about her taking my sperm and the idea of her pregnant with my baby gets my heart pumping; my cock harder.

Sharp nails dig into my back, and I love living the force of her pleasure leaving its mark on me.

“Miles,” she pants. “What’s happening? Oh my God, it feels…” Her head drops back, her beautiful neck exposed. I bring my lips over the pulse point just below her ear and tease her with nips and kisses.

I pump more milk into her, caught on the idea of my seed already taking hold. I ease my lips over to find hers and take in her breaths as my own.

“Baby, you are so damn perfect for me.”

She gasps at the word and I don’t realize I’ve said them until they’ve already left my lips.

“This is so crazy, so fast. So…”

I can see the pulse in her neck beating fast. Mine is too. This is as close as I’ve ever gotten to saying I love another human being and it scares the shit out of me.

“…so right?” I offer, hoping they are not wrong words.

“Yes! So so right,”

I hold her to me, not letting my cock slip from her body. She thinks we’re done here. We are not. The sun doesn’t come up for over nine hours and I plan on using every single one of them to memorize her body.