To Tame a Wild Firefighter (Red Hot Reunions Book 2) Read Online Free

you on your butt if you have more than two glasses?”
    “Beer,” Kitty said. “But none of the light stuff. It tastes like pee.”
    Faith’s eyes flicked from one side of the party to the other, relieved to see several clutches of people avoiding the dance floor. But there were still a sufficient number of partygoers bumping and grinding to make her feel on edge.
    “I’ll have some of that punch,” she told Melody, figuring she could stand to be knocked on her butt a little.
    “Great, be right back.” Melody turned, threading her way through the crowd toward the makeshift bar set up on the kitchen counter.
    There were punch bowls and cups, every kind of drink container imaginable—from martini glasses to shot glasses to those giant red wine glasses Faith tended to break. The food spread on the other side of the room was fancy, too, giving the gathering a more elegant vibe than the average kegger. But then Melody was a professional caterer, and obviously had a leg up on other hostesses, and the space was very party friendly.
    The apartment was the roomiest Faith had seen in a long time—a large open concept layout that gave people plenty of space to spread out. It was definitely packed, but it didn’t feel claustrophobic, and by the time Faith sucked down her first cup of punch and prepared to go looking for her second, she was feeling decidedly more relaxed.
    “You need anything?” she shouted to Kitty, who shook her head and held up her still half-full beer before turning back to the guy she’d been talking moonshine cars with for the past twenty minutes.
    Faith made her way toward the punch bowl with a bounce in her step, surprised to find that she was having a good time. She wasn’t dancing, but the music and the party vibe were fun, and she was enjoying chatting with the handful of guys who had set up camp with her and Kitty at the edge of the room.
    Unfortunately, though, none of the guys she’d met so far were kiss-worthy prospects. They all seemed genuinely nice, not the sort who would be up for a no-strings-attached make out session. She needed someone else, someone with the same cocky swagger Mick had, the kind of guy who would think nothing of kissing her senseless and then walking away.
    Mick wasn’t the one who walked away, and you know it.
    Faith ignored the thought and ladled out another glass of punch before turning to retrace her steps.
    The only reason Mick hadn’t walked away was because she had walked away first. He was only interested in her because she was hard to get. If she were to make the mistake of indulging her curiosity about Mick Whitehouse—finding out if his kisses were as intoxicating as she remembered, discovering if there were more to him than a nice sense of humor and a handsome face—she had no doubt he’d walk away so fast it would give her whiplash.
    She’d seen it happen to her mom way too many times. Getting involved with a guy who made your head swim when you kissed him was a bad idea.
    Speaking of swimming…Melody hadn’t been kidding about the punch.
    Faith glanced down at her cup, surprised to find it already half-empty. She was going to have to slow down if she didn’t want to be unconscious on Melody’s chaise lounge before midnight. In fact, it might be a good idea if she grabbed a few chips and pretzels, something to soak up the alcohol before it went to her head. If she slipped outside onto the deck, she could cut around to the other side of the apartment to where the snack table was without setting foot on the dance floor. She might be having fun, but she wasn’t ready to venture into that unholy territory yet.
    Kitty was still deep in conversation, so Faith eased around a group of guys discussing the last Falcons’ game, and headed toward the glass door leading out onto the deck. The apartment wasn’t huge; Kitty could find her if she needed her.
    She stepped outside and paused, pulling in a deep breath of cold, head-clearing air, before turning