Vonnie Davis - Santa Wore Leathers - The sexiest firefighter Christmas romance of the year!

“The girls have already put together little presents for the senior citizens. Lotions, bath gels, stockings.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Stuff like that. I throw in books. Romances for the women, books set during World War II or the Vietnam War for the men.”

She hadn’t expected this side of him and it surprised her. “Why would you include me in your family tradition? I’ll feel as if I’m intruding.”

“No. The more, the merrier. Some of the guys from the station are also going along. They bought puzzles to add to the presents we’ll hand out.”

“I could make cookies and candies. I love to cook, but rarely do it just for me.”

“Sounds good. Come over at six on Wednesday. It’ll be an early evening since the old folks tend to go to bed earlier than most.” He stepped closer and took her hand in his. “Maybe we could go out for a late dinner. I’ll make reservations for the two of us somewhere.”

Singing Christmas carols and handing out gifts as part of a group was one thing, but dinner alone with him was more personal. She had to keep her distance. With one heated kiss, he’d melted a layer of the glacier encasing her heart. A handsome, sexy, self-assured man could do great damage. She had to deflect Wolf’s allure by refusing his offer. What better way to repel him than reminding him what she was? “You’d take a lowly reporter out to dinner?”

He slipped his hands into the back pockets of his black jeans and stepped backwards. “A reporter. Yeah, I’d forgotten.” He snorted a burst of laughter. “Hell, with my lips fused to yours earlier, I damn near forgot my name. I never lose control with a woman like that.” His gaze shifted to the street for a few seconds, and he murmured something she couldn’t distinguish. His posture and the set of his broad shoulders spoke of sadness. Oh, girl, get a grip. Just like all men, he’s a heartache with a capital H.

“Good night, Wolf.”

His dark eyes with their predatory gaze landed on her, and for an instant, they almost caressed her before emotion shuttered them. “I’m attracted to you. I won’t deny it.” He huffed an audible sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “I also don’t like or trust reporters. Dammit, why did you have to be one?” He executed a half-hearted salute and walked away. “Good night, reporter lady.”

A dose of melancholy misted her eyes and she willed the tears away. Why would she care if the man never approached her again? Or kissed her? She turned and leaned her forehead against the front door, sighing. Something about the feelings he stirred in her scared her. The man certainly knew how to hijack a kiss. For a minute he had her femininity flying high—and she feared the crash landing the ride would surely bring.

****

Salt spray moistened Wolf’s face as the rubber inflatable craft sped along the causeway. He welcomed the familiar exhilaration, the adrenaline rush. Dressed in scuba gear, his gaze swept over his highly trained four-man Marine Rescue Unit as they expertly prepared for their rescue attempt. When the call came into the station from a stranded boat near Memorial Causeway Bridge, his team was underway in less than five minutes.

His diving partner, Barclay, shouted over the noise of the speeding engine, “Dispatch said the guy fell overboard?”

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