Intertwined

chapter one

This time I let the venom creep out as I smile at him. "Ah, yes, the last time," I say as I intertwine my fingers together. "How many times are you going to have to interrupt my work day before you finally get it fixed?"

"There's nothing wrong with the alarm," he tells me, lifting the brim of his helmet up as he holds my gaze. "You know this would be a lot simpler if you just went outside, right?"

"Would it?" I ask, more annoyed than I was when the stupid alarm went off in the first place. "If you don't mind, I was in the middle of something."

"You're really going to make me do this, aren't you?"

I lift my gaze at the threat, but before I can question what it means, I feel him at my side as his gloved hand curls around my arm. A gasp falling from my lips when he lifts me out of my chair and over his shoulder with ease, heading for the door.

"What the hell?" I spit out, slapping my hand against the back of his turnout coat. "Put me down!" I squeal as annoyance bubbles over in my chest.

My hand hits the back of his coat again, hoping my resistance will get him to set me back on my feet, but it seems to do the oppose. He ignores my pleas, instead tightening his grip on my thighs as he takes the stairs down to the lobby.

"Would you put me down?" I ask when he reaches the glass door at the front of my industrial office building.

"You made me do this, Trouble."

"I didn't make you do anything! Put me down," I squeal as he steps onto the sidewalk and heads in the direction of the building muster point. My frustration only growing heavier at the sound of my coworkers whispers. "Would you put–"

A squeal falls from my lips as he leans over, lifting me off his shoulder to set me back on my feet. For a lack of anything else, I reach out for his arm to brace myself as I stumble to find my footing. His fingers curl around my elbow as my grip on his arm tightens, holding me steady. When I take a step back, wanting to put as much distance between us as possible he lets me and reaches for the brim of his helmet, lifting it off his head.

"That wasn't so difficult now was it?"

"You're terribly unprofessional," I say, resting my hands on my hips despite knowing the only one being unprofessional is me. He was right when he said it'd be easier if I just got up and left when he asked, even better if I had done it when Kayla told me to, but after four other visits this month, each ending in the same frustrating conclusion, I couldn't help myself.

I'm sick of my day being interrupted by someone with the inability to cook. One time I could forget, I could even understand two times, but this is the fifth time that I've been met by the same stupid smirk on the equally stupid attractive face.

He's the type of attractive that knows it, and isn't shy to sending a flirty smile someone's way to get what they want. I refuse to let it work on me, even if it does create increasingly adorable dimples in his cheeks each time he does it.

"I'm unprofessional?"

I nod my head, not willing to back down as I eye my flared lilac dress pants that now have a slight ting of grey to them thanks to the ash marking his coat. "Look what you did to my pants," I say, rubbing my hand over a particular dark spot.

"Wouldn't have happened if you evacuated like you were supposed to," he says, stepping towards me until he's towering over me. A task that most men don't usually accomplish given my own height and the six inch heels on my feet. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go and do my job," he says, his voice coating me in warmth.

"I'll be sending you my dry cleaning bill," I shout after him when he starts walking towards the fire truck sitting outside my office building.

I watch as a smile slides across his lips as he looks over his shoulder, clearly amused by my outburst. "Try not to miss me too much, Trouble!"