Excitement welled inside, anticipation at what would come next. It had been only a couple of days, and he was willing to say he’d missed her.

Wanted her like crazy.

One of the chopper doors creaked a warning, and they pulled apart, still grinning like fools.

“You coming home with me?” Devon asked quietly.

“You have a bigger shower than I do,” Alisha pointed out.

The images her comment raised only widened his smile as he snatched up handfuls of gear and headed into the storage rooms.

Alisha was at his back before he could finish coiling the ropes and storing them properly. She snaked her arms around him. “You want me to grab some food on the way to your place?”

Warm body pressed to him, her hands playing over his waist—there were a whole lot of things he wanted that popped to mind, and food wasn’t even on the list.

“You’d better, or I have a feeling we’ll forget to eat. If by some chance you beat me home, there’s a key under the mat.” She dragged her hand back, stroking his groin, and he caught her wrist, trapping her fingers over his growing erection. “Now that’s not playing nice.”

“I’m as turned on as you right now. Does that make me a freak?”

He twisted to face her. “It makes you lucky you don’t have to hide a damn hard-on during debrief.”

Alisha smiled sweetly. “Poor baby. So hard done by.”

“Hard, yes. God, so fucking hard.” He glanced around to be sure they were alone before sneaking one more kiss. Alisha pushed him away and escaped the room laughing.

Out in the main gathering space Lana grinned as she joined them in the common area. “Sounds as if the entire rescue was amazing.”

“Thanks for your help at the desk. Everyone did a great job today.” Anders pointed at Erin. “But there’s the top dog. You did some incredible flying. We’d never have finished so quickly without you.”

Erin took a bow, then passed out bottles of sports drink.

“Hear, hear.” Devon raised his in the air. He settled on the couch, debating if making room for Alisha would be too obvious or a straight-out bad idea. He’d managed to get himself under control, but only so far as there was nothing obviously showing anymore.

He didn’t have to make the final decision as Lana dropped beside him.

Alisha crawled onto the other couch next to Xavier, complete innocence on her face as she leaned in and grabbed a granola bar off the table.

Anders took them through debrief quick enough, but every time Devon glanced up and saw Alisha across from him, his imagination made it tough to stay on target. He was ready to be gone. Out of the company of the team and alone with her. Peeling off her clothing and joining her in the shower to scrub them both from top to bottom. He had just the thing to do it with. He could picture the enormous puffy scrub thing his sister had sent him as a gag gift that would look incredible against Alisha’s naked body. The peach-coloured ball of fuzz contrasting against her smooth skin as he stroked it along the inside of her thighs. Over the curve of her waist and up the side of her breasts . . .

Devon shook himself to attention, leaning away from Lana, who’d pressed closer than necessary to examine the map on the table and hadn’t adjusted back when she was done. Across from them, Alisha’s brow tweaked upward as she glanced pointedly at the woman by his side.

Frustration fought with the urge to be charitable. Maybe Lana didn’t realize she was nearly hanging over him? He rose to his feet under the guise of pointing out something to Anders, and then instead of sitting back down, he remained standing behind the couch.

Alisha’s lips curled upward as she stared at Anders, but Devon knew what had triggered that smirking expression.

The debrief concluded, and everyone milled about for a couple of minutes before Alisha escaped, a final meaningful glance his way. Devon shot to his locker to get his keys and town coat, leaving the heavy rescue gear hanging to dry.

“You want to get something to eat?” A set of hands curled around him, reminiscent of only a short time earlier, only now all he felt was dismay. He turned quickly and backed as far away from Lana as he could.

“Thanks for the invite, but I’ve got other plans.” Devon scrambled for a change of topic. “So, first time helping and all. Well done.”

“Thanks. Maybe sometime I’ll get to go out with you guys on a call. You know, if Marcus is in the office.” Lana stroked Devon’s arm. “You must be tired. I could give you a massage if you’d like.”

Holy shit, where was this coming from?

“Um, no thank you. I’ve got other plans for tonight already.” He glanced into the hallway, not sure if he wanted to be rescued or would prefer not to have anyone see this awkward situation.

Lana blinked, still too far into his private space. “Oh. Okay. Well, I thought we were going to do something once you were done today.”

Where had she gotten that idea? “No, we hadn’t talked about it.”

His instinctive response about not getting involved with people he worked with froze on his tongue, because there was no way he would outright lie. Only he didn’t think he’d done anything to encourage Lana, either.

She finally backed up a step, looking him up and down slowly. “Sorry, I must have misunderstood.”

Devon scrambled. “I mean, you’re attractive and all, but I’m not . . .”

Great. All his so-called legendary ways with the women were shown up here and now to be utter bunk. He had no idea how to turn her down without putting his foot in his mouth.

Tripp wandered around the corner and Lana backed away more.

“We’ll talk again later, Devon. Some other time will work better to get together. No problem.” She waved at the two of them, then vanished.

Her sunshiny response was nearly as confusing as the come-on had been.

Tripp pulled his coat from his locker, a twisted smile rising far too quickly.

“Shut up. It’s not what it looked like,” Devon snapped.

The dark-haired man shrugged, pulling his coat shut and tossing his keys from one hand to the other. “It looked as if a certain young lady is trolling through the Lifeline guys in the hopes one of them will put in a good word for her with the boss. That’s all I saw. She blew it with Xavier the other night when he had to pour her into her apartment. She’s moved on to you because everyone knows you don’t think with anything but your dick.”

Devon laughed. Tripp’s comment was so dry it was ridiculous. “Why the hell would she do that?”

“Because some people don’t rely on only doing their job to get ahead.” Tripp smirked. “I can hardly wait until she hits on me. Think she’ll have any luck?”

Devon didn’t fight his grin. “She’s missing some vital equipment if she’s trying to entice you to go to bat for her.”

Tripp raised his thumbs up, then glanced out the door. “Keep an eye on her. I don’t trust her much, and not just because she’s acting up.”

Devon nodded, then got out as quickly as he could. He had better things to think about than overly ambitious call-out staff.

In his immediate future he had Alisha, a shower, and a lot of skin to scrub.

* * *

Alisha placed the take-out bag with the roast chicken on the table, then headed to search the cupboards for plates and utensils. She’d beaten Devon home—not surprising since she’d slipped out of HQ before anyone could ask her to do anything. Grabbing some ready-made meal items at the local grocery store had taken less than fifteen minutes.

Maybe the rush of excitement that hit as she let herself into his house was unusual, but it still gave her a bit of a thrill. Something as simple as having access to his private domain without him being present brought a giddy smile to her lips as much as the thought of what would happen once he got home. It was another level of trust he’d offered her, and right now she appreciated it very much.

It had been hours since they’d finished the rescue. Even longer since she’d faced the rushing water of the falls and known for certain her earlier panic attack was a one-off event. She’d thought it was, but until she was faced with another challenge, she couldn’t be sure.

Vincent was more of a concern than her panic attack, and that realization pissed her off greatly.

Once the table was set, she wandered Devon’s living room and waited for him to join her. Sitting on the floor by his music collection made her smile. All of her music was digital, but Devon had one of those old vertical stackers, and she pulled one CD from it after another, her amusement rising.

She loaded his CD player and hit play, the rich sounds of classical orchestration filling the house with the familiar music of her childhood. The Mission, Empire of the Sun—soundtracks with hauntingly beautiful melodies brought up the good memories she had from before her family’s expectations had changed.

Alisha paced slowly through the small house. The minimal furniture was similar to her own, with a few better pieces mixed in with the thrift shop buys. The mystery of who Devon was made her wonder.

She’d kept herself and her background secret for years, and in doing so she’d blocked off sharing with others. He was the youngest of a large family, she knew that. He grew up in Calgary, he had friends in Banff . . .

He was an extraordinary lover.

The door swung open and she twisted to greet him. His smile flashed, and a rush of anticipation hit again.

He cocked his head to the side, listening. A groan escaped him. “You found the CDs my brother gave me.”