Free Charming the Firefighter by Beth Andrews

that, of making a man forget his troubles and focus on other things. Things such as soft, sweet-smelling skin, lush curves and long kisses. All things he’d rather think about than what had happened last night to Samantha, the pain and grief her family was going through.
    His sense of responsibility for their loss.
    “I take it you’re not big on the theory that opposites attract,” he said.
    “Hardly. Oh, people like to believe in that silly, romanticized notion, but in reality what holds a relationship together is commonality. Common interests.” She ticked the items off on her long fingers, one by one. “Common views on religion, politics, finances, child-rearing—”
    “And sex,” he couldn’t help but add.
    Her flush deepened, but she held his gaze, her chin lifted as if to prove he couldn’t fluster her. “Yes, naturally they should also have similar views about sex. What they shouldn’t believe is that simply because they have a satisfying physical relationship, they can work through other problems. For a relationship to succeed, a couple should have similar intellects in order for them to enjoy scintillating conversation, as well as interesting and intriguing debates. If they have similar tastes, they can share hobbies and enjoy the same types of film, shows and music. All of which will make it easier for them to want to spend time together.”
    “That’s quite the theory,” he said, wondering about her romantic relationships. Was she in one? His gaze flicked to her left hand. No ring. No signs of a husband from what he could tell. But then, he’d seen only the hallway and kitchen. For all he knew, there could be a spouse lurking around somewhere, but something told him there wasn’t. “Most women believe in love and forever and happy endings.”
    She snorted, then looked appalled, as if unable to believe the sound had actually come from her. “I’m all for love and forever. I also realize that happy endings require an immense amount of work and sacrifice, and if both people aren’t willing to pull their weight, none of it will be enough to make a doomed relationship last.”
    She made relationships sound like a job, not something to be cherished and revered.
    Like he’d said—fascinating.
    She shook her head. “I don’t see what any of this has to do with why you’re here.”
    “Not a thing.” But she was right. He needed to get back to work, focus on getting the details for his report, and make sure she really was as okay as she seemed and move on to the next case. He pulled out his notebook and pen. “Can you tell me what happened exactly?”
    Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
    He tapped the notebook. “Gives me something to write in here. If I come back with blank pages, my captain gets cranky.”
    She slumped back and crossed her arms. “I had a glass of wine.”
    He waited, but when she didn’t elaborate, he asked, “And the wine made the grill explode?”
    She sent him a bland stare. “I was simply explaining the events leading up to the...the...incident.” Chewing on her bottom lip, she cleared her throat. “I may have had more than one glass, but definitely less than three. I think.”
    Holding his pen over the paper, he raised his eyebrows. “You lost count?”
    “Of course not. I’m an accountant. Counting is what I do,” she said in an aggrieved tone. “Counting and adding and subtracting and reading tax law among other things. The point,” she said, “is that I am not drunk.”
    “I didn’t say you were.”
    She sniffed. “You didn’t have to. I can tell by your face. You look all...smug. And amused.”
    “Smug?” he murmured. “That hurts.”
    “Let me tell you something,” she continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “While I may not be completely, one hundred percent sober, I am
not
inebriated.” She spoke with the slow enunciation of the drunk, but she handled the word with impressive skill. “I’d realized I should eat something and that was why I