Every Little Kiss Read Free Page B

getting places, of ensuring a specific course on a road to success. She’d never stopped much along the way.
    “You’re awfully quiet,” Abe said. She could hear the smile on his lips as he tried to lighten the moment. As if he somehow understood what a battle this question was.
    “I don’t…” The words faded into less than a whisper. She had no answer.
    “It’s okay,” Abe said. His hand was on her shoulder again, the other still clasping her fingers against his chest. This man was stronger and steadier and calmer than anyone she’d ever met.
    There was a shout above them, and a scraping noise. Casey cringed.
    “The place I love,” Abe said, “is a little German town called Freiburg. The British messed it up in World War Two, gutted it with bombs. But the town was rebuilt with these efficient, logical roads and bike paths that you can take anywhere. There’s also a train, and it always runs on time. Always. And there’s all this green technology through what are called passive houses. They don’t require any kind of furnace or device to heat them. They essentially heat themselves. It’s efficient. It’s incredible.”
    Casey thrilled at how thoughtful and ordered it sounded. Until a small inner voice reminded her that being logical and ordered was what had almost ruined her life. A straitlaced existence had nearly been her undoing, and she wasn’t about to repeat the pattern. She’d moved to White Pine to do the opposite, in fact.
    “When were you there?” she managed to ask.
    “Never. I’ve only read about it. I’m saving up to go, but—well, it’s a long story.”
    And based on the shouts and noise above them, there wasn’t any time to tell it.
    Abe’s radio squawked. “Crew to lieutenant. Elevator tech is here. He’s going to come in from the top. We’ll get you out with the ladder.”
    “Message received.”
    “They’re coming in through the fire access panel above us,” Abe said. “The elevator door to the first floor is just a foot or so away, so they’re going to pull us out of the top of this thing, then pull us onto the first floor. Does that make sense?”
    “Yes.”
    Abe’s stubbled cheek pressed against hers. The rough feel of it had her muscles weakening. “You’re almost there,” he said. “Just a few more minutes.”
    Before she could gather her next thought, Abe dropped her hand and stepped away, just as the panel in the ceiling above them opened. A flashlight beam pierced through, brighter than a hundred camera flashes. Or so Casey thought as she squinted against it.
    “There are better places for a party,” said the firefighter above them. “This one is kind of hard to get to, and I’m not sure the DJ would fit.”
    “Get a ladder down here now , Reese.” Abe’s voice was back to being razor sharp. Casey wrapped her arms around herself, thinking she’d liked it much better when he’d murmured.
    The flashlight beam bounced as a ladder was lowered into the elevator car. “Reese will hold it from above,” Abe said. “I’ll grab it down here. Go ahead.”
    Casey took in the firm set of Abe’s lips, the rugged edge of his jaw, the hardness in his eyes. His kindness, his gentleness, was seeping away—that is, if it had ever been there in the first place.
    Not that she was about to stay in the elevator one second longer to wonder. She grasped the sides of the ladder and hauled herself up the rungs until Reese helped her stand on top of the stalled car. Golden light poured onto them from the open doors just a few feet above. Inside the wide doors was the female firefighter.
    Casey gulped air, relieved to be away from the confines of the elevator’s four walls.
    “You hardly have to move now,” Reese said, smiling a lopsided grin. “You just raise your arms and Quinn is going to pull you up.”
    If she had any doubts that Quinn was strong enough, they were gone within seconds. Before she knew it, strong hands had lifted her into the safety of the