Flirting with Fire Read online

  Lucky for me, no one seems to want to sit in the front row. The room is filled other than a sprinkle of empty seats in the rows behind me, my row is vacant except for a man at the end who took the second seat in. Weird, why he would take the second? Maybe he’s waiting for someone.

  A minute later the auctioneer approaches the podium.

  I straighten my back, thankful that the Oswald’s have yet to make an appearance. They’d be my biggest competition for this property. Already giddiness starts to flutter my insides, thinking that maybe I’ll get away with a low bid.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Are we all ready to get this auction started? I’ll go over the rules for you newbies.” Rachel smiles down at me. “For you regulars, be patient with the new people in town.”

  I smile back, my eyes on her until the door opens at the back of the room.

  Tardiness is unacceptable and if it’s Oscar Oswald, I hope Rachel tells him he’s two minutes late so he can fly a kite. All the eyes shift in the direction of the door, but as Mauro Bianco strolls across the room, it’s only my breath that’s lodged in my throat. This cannot be happening to me. I close my eyes and peek out of one like he could be a figment of my imagination.

  “Sir, the auction starts at ten on the dot.”

  Throw him out, Rachel.

  Please.

  “I do apologize, ma’am, but I just got off shift. We had a late call and I got here as soon as I could.”

  “You’re a firefighter?” she asks.

  I roll my eyes over the fact that he’d wear his fatigues like a fanatic fan of a sports team just to get an advantage at the auction.

  “Yes, ma’am. Engine Fifty-Five.”

  Rachel smiles and holds out her hand for him to enter the room. “Next time try to be on time.”

  Try? I want to scream. Anyone else who didn’t have that sexy panty-melting smile would be out on their ass.

  It’s bad enough that I have to share oxygen with the man, but his enticing scent hits me full force as his weight lands in the seat next to me.

  “Hey,” he whispers.

  “Hi.” I keep my eyes poised on Rachel who seems more enthralled in watching our interaction than performing her job.

  “What are you doing here?” he asks, continuing the conversation even after I didn’t make eye contact.

  “Same as you I suppose.”

  “You’re bidding on a property?”

  “No. I thought this was people pleasers anonymous,” I deadpan.

  A huge boisterous laugh erupts out of him, echoing through the silent room. Rachel glances up from the papers her assistant is explaining to her.

  Kick him out, Rachel.

  She smiles instead because his laugh is like an aphrodisiac.

  “You’re funny.” He leans back in the chair, his shoulder touching mine, his thigh brushing my thigh before I swing my leg over and cross them, effectively relieving some of the awareness of how close he was.

  “Thanks. I’ll add that to my credentials. Can be funny when I’m not busy putting other’s needs before my own.”

  My eyes zone in on Rachel who is taking her sweet time with the paperwork, her and her assistant in the deep throes of conversation, papers shuffling. Something is going on up there.

  “I meant to message you, but my schedule…”

  I wonder how many times he uses his schedule or the fact he’s a firefighter to gain an as an excuse or to gain an advantage.

  “Will you look at me?” He asks the one thing I cannot imagine doing in this moment.

  “Yes.” I look over his shoulder instead of meeting his eyes. He won’t be able to tell the difference.

  His forefinger lands under my chin and he urges my face forward.

  And there they are. Those gorgeous blue eyes staring right back at me.

  His hand drops to his lap.

  “I wanted to apologize. I never should’ve acted like that to you.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Don’t do that.” The kind voice he was using a moment ago now holds a tinge of irritation.

  “Stop telling me what to do.” I look away from him to Rachel once again.

  Come on. Is this property really worth this?

  “I’m sorry it’s just—”

  “What Mauro? I’m sorry if I’m not the girl you want me to be. If I’m not perfect enough for you. Well, guess what? I don’t care.”

  The man at the end of our row looks beyond Mauro’s squared shoulders in my direction. If I was Lauren, I’d flip him off. Say some crude comment about minding his own business in her Laurenesque way. But I’m not her. I’m Madison Kelly, the one who smiles like nothing is going on between me and the firefighter.

  “Perfect? Enough for me?” He sounds more as though he’s not asking me, but himself.

  Whatever.

  “Yes. Would you like it if I was telling you how to act?”

  A smile tips his lips. “Please do.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Come on.” He eggs me on.

  I stand and head over to Rachel.

  “Hey, Rachel, can you let me know how much longer until we start?”

  Her vision shifts from her assistant to me. “Sorry, Madison. There are five properties that were taken out of auction and we’re waiting on word before we start. Gives you more time with the hottie over there.” She smiles conspiratorially at me.

  “Thanks.” I give her a tight smile.

  Mauro’s smile is wide and annoying when I sit back down in my seat. “What’s the word?”

  “It’s going to be awhile. Some properties are coming off auction.”

  “What? Did she say which one?”

  His easy-going casual persona morphs into an anxiety ridden one like that.

  “No. She can’t tell us.”

  “That sucks, I hope it isn’t mine,” he says, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs.

  “Yours? You haven’t won anything. What property are you here for?” I ask, knowing a newbie would never take on the house I want. He’s probably here for a condo that needs a few light fixture changes.

  “I’m not saying.”

  I chuckle. “What? You think I’m going to want it?”

  “You never know.” He shrugs.

  “That would go against my people pleasing efforts, don’t you think?”

  Again with the chuckle that’s an on switch for the heat between the legs.

  “Shit, Maddie, I wish I would’ve known you better in high school. You’re funny.”

  “Only with you, apparently.”

  His hand covers his heart and his head falls back. “I’m honored.”

  I roll my eyes for the fiftieth time since he sat down next to me.

  “So, your business, is it flipping houses?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Impressive. I’m just about to start my first redo.”

  “Good luck. Hope you’re handy.”

  “I’m good with my hands.”

  I don’t miss the sexual innuendo in his tone, but I don’t react.

  We wait in silence for another few seconds before he stretches—his arms high above his head, his torso rising. If I dared to sneak a peek I bet his shirt is rising, too.

  I wonder if he has a happy trail?

  No. No, you don’t.

  “So you think what? That this is a way to make a quick buck by flipping a house?”

  “Whoa, never saw that jab coming.” He laughs again.

  Why is everything so damn humorous to him?

  “Everyone thinks it’s so easy. Buy it on the cheap, cut a few corners and double your money. I’m going to warn you, it’s hard work.”

  “Thanks. I’ll take it into consideration.”

  He crosses his arms in front of him, checking his watch and yawns. “I need a bed.”

  Can I join you?

  Bad Maddie.

  Rachel approaches the microphone. “I’m sorry ladies and gentlemen. Two more minutes. We’
re about done.”

  “What are you into flipping for if not for the money?” he asks, though his eyes stay trained on the wall ahead of us.

  “To take something everyone thinks is ugly and past its prime and pull the beauty out of it so that people will love it again.”

  He says nothing but his eyes are burning a hole in the side of my head now.

  “I didn’t expect that,” he says.

  “What?”

  “An explanation so, I don’t know…profound?”

  “Just do me a favor and if you are going to take the time to redo a house, think outside the box. Don’t just go with whatever the latest trends are. Picture a family living there and do quality renovations, imagine what their life will be like while they’re enjoying each and every decision you made along the way.”

  “Man, you’re just full of advice today.”

  Rachel approaches the podium again, her assistant finding her spot right next to her with a stack of papers.

  “Sorry.” I cringe once the word leaves my lips.

  “I don’t offend easily, no need for apologies.”

  The fact he ignored the opportunity to take another jab at my people pleaser tendencies tells me he must have meant his earlier apology.

  “Property 3902 is up for auction.” A picture of the house comes up on the screen. “We’ll begin the bidding at fifty-six thousand dollars.” Rachel is all business as usual and I sit and wait for Property 1731 to be called.

  The property doesn’t get called until an hour later and though a lot of people have left, Mauro is still sitting right next to me.

  Rachel eyes me, knowing my go-to property type. “Property 1731.”

  Mauro straightens in his chair, abandoning his phone to the vacant chair next to him.

  No.

  He looks over at me with the same expression of disbelief that’s heating the blood in my veins. Forget the Oswald brothers. Mauro Bianco is my biggest threat?

  Then he raises his eyebrows as though this is a challenge for him.

  “Game on,” I murmur.

  “Don’t play nice.” He waggles his eyebrows and raises his hand. “Twenty thousand.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I put my own hand in the air. “Twenty-two thousand.”

  Chapter Nine

  Mauro

  If I could turn back time, I would. I’d go back to that board game cafe and keep my mouth shut about her letting me win because she has that fire in her eyes when she makes her ‘game on’ comment. You can tell this is her element, which probably means she’s got the advantage here.

  “Twenty-four,” I raise my hand.

  The auctioneer smirks at her assistant and points to me. We both know I won’t have the winning bid for long.

  “Twenty-six.” The spitfire girl next to me raises her hand like an eager teacher’s pet.

  Was she?

  With no one else coming in to bid, I figure it must be only us.

  “How high?” I whisper to her. “Twenty-eight,” I say.

  “What? Why? I’m not telling you.” Her head is twisting between me and the auctioneer, her hand already back in the air. “Thirty.”

  “Because we’re just raising the price up for one of us.”

  “That’s the point,” she says out of the side of her mouth.

  “We have thirty. Do we have thirty-one?” The auctioneer eyes me.

  “If we go too high one of us isn’t going to make a dime,” I say.

  “Then save me the trouble and bow out.”

  “Thirty-one going once.” The gavel is in her hand, her eyes silently asking me.

  “Fine. Have it your way.” I shrug. “Thirty-three.”

  “There’s no rule about going up two k.” She sneers her arm extended. “Thirty-four.”

  “Sorry, newbie and all.” I shrug.

  Her blue eyes narrow and she bites her lip. I shift in my seat from the concentrated effort it takes for me not to lean in and take that lip of hers with my own teeth.

  “Thirty-five.”

  She huffs, her shoulders deflating in defeat for the first time since the opening bid.

  We’re now way over the starting bid and if one of us wouldn’t have come, the other would have had it for twenty thousand.

  “What are you thinking?” she whispers.

  I can’t stop the cocky grin from forming on my lips. Not because I knew she’d bend to my way, but because she’s open to listening to my idea.

  “I’m thinking we partner up.”

  “WHAT?”

  Now, this is the type of woman I could get under.

  “I’m sure you plan on hiring a contractor.”

  “We have thirty-five on the table. Anyone else?” The auctioneer is not leaving me much time to convince her.

  “Yeah, so?”

  “I can be our contractor. I know a million guys from the firehouses who are skilled at different trades. Not to mention, I told you I have good hands.” I hold them up for her to see.

  “Thirty-five going twice.” The auctioneer is being nice and going a lot slower than she did with previous properties. She seems to have a soft spot for Madison.

  “You’ll listen to me when it comes to budget and decorating decisions?” she asks, her eyes shifting from the gavel about to slam down making me the winner of the property.

  I hold out my hand. “Sure thing, but you show me the ropes. We’re partners. Fifty, fifty.”

  She stares into my eyes, for the first time not looking away. The softness of her hand slides into mine and I grip her hand. “Partners.” Her tone might not hold the declaration I was hoping for, but it’s a start.

  She may not realize it yet, but she didn’t get the bad end of this agreement. I think she’ll be surprised by my skills.

  “Sold.” The auctioneer points to me, smiling down at our entwined hands.

  Madison retracts, and the air conditioning must have blasted on because goose bumps run up my spine.

  Chapter Ten

  Madison

  “Did you just pinch yourself?” Mauro asks next to me while we wait for the paperwork to be processed after we each supplied a check for half the amount of Mauro’s bid on my childhood home.

  I wrap my palm around the spot that I did, in fact, pinch myself at.

  Wouldn’t you think it was a dream if you just decided to partner up with your high school crush putting him in your proximity for months on end? My sixteen-year-old self is throwing confetti in the air and dancing the cha-cha. My current self is wary as much as she is excited.

  “I had an itch,” I lie.

  He smirks, his signature trademark that probably has women stripping their panties off, but I need to hold him back with titanium arms because he’ll railroad this project from me if I let him.

  “Congratulations you two. You’re proud owners of Property 1731.” Rachel holds the paperwork out and I snatch it from her hands.

  Mauro looks over at me incredulously.

  “I’ll keep everything organized.”

  “What makes you think I’m not organized?” he asks.

  Rachel shares a look with her assistant that reads more ‘aren’t they cute’ rather than ‘this property will be up for auction again in two months.’

  “I have a system.”

  “I’m sure you do and now I’m part of that system. Can you send me copies tonight?” His voice isn’t sweet and syrupy, instead, it’s almost accusatory as if I’d screw him over.

  “Do you think I’m going to cheat you? Your name is on here.”

  “Just making sure we’re in this together.” A dimness dulls his eyes for a split second before they sparkle again. “No fights where you lock me out of the house or anything.” The one side of his lips tip and I can’t help the way my body melts under his flirtatious nature.

  “No worries.” I shove the papers in my purse. “Thanks, Rachel and Tracy. See you soon I’m sure.”

  I head out the door, hearing Mauro speak his own goodbyes and the ladi
es slight swoon back with we hope to see you soon, too. His footsteps loom behind me as I walk to the elevator.

  “Let’s go to breakfast, talk logistics.”

  “How about we pick up breakfast and go over to the house? The sooner we figure out our game plan, the better. I can have a dumpster there tomorrow to get all the crap out of the house.”

  He runs his fingers through his dark wavy hair.

  Stop it, Maddie. Do not get sucked in.

  “Okay. I’m off tomorrow and I can round up a crew.”

  “Hold up, stud. Let’s go over plans before we start demolishing everything.” I step into the elevator, the small box feeling even more claustrophobic with him sharing the space.

  “Stud? I like it.” His cocky grin appears—again.

  “Don’t take it as a compliment.”

  He steps forward, his hand landing on the silver railing at my side, his body so close to mine that my heart pounds in my chest as if it wants to reach out and touch him. “No?” he questions in a gravelly voice.

  I shake my head, I haven’t been this close to him since that night long ago and he still has the ability to paralyze my body.

  “Stop messing around.”

  He chuckles and steps back out of my personal space.

  Why would he even do that?

  Running another hand through his hair, he stretches, bending and twisting in every direction.

  “If you’re tired…”

  His gaze shifts to mine quickly. “No. We’re in this together remember?”

  “I know, but I slept eight hours last night and you…didn’t.”

  “It’s okay, I’m used to no sleep.”

  “If you say so.” I shrug.

  “Good, we should probably get some ground rules set,” he says.

  The elevator doors open. “Well, I’ll pick up some breakfast and I’ll meet you at the house. We can go over the business plan, talk about what we’re going to do with improvements, so we know what walls to tear down.”

  “I’ll grab the breakfast. What do you want?” he asks.

  We exit the federal building and a man is walking toward us with a mass of media behind him. I freeze. We both shift our bodies to clear a path and it isn’t until the suited man passes that I figure out who he is.