Doing it the entire time he was off was even better. Except—he’s now back at the firehouse, working twenty-four on. Ugh. I know the guys cook for each other during their shifts, but I’ve also heard Justin complain about them not being big on the dessert front. So, seeing as I wouldn’t be “seeing” him for a bit, I decided to bake. Plus, even though I’m fucking Justin, there’s nothing that says I can’t check out the other hotties at the station. Pulling up in front of the firehouse, I throw my little car into park and reach over to the passenger seat to snag the prepared dishes I’ve brought. I made brownies and cookies, plus I stopped by the grocery store for a few cartons of ice cream and toppings. Yeah, I’m hoping to keep ninety-nine percent of them busy for a while. I’m evil that way. After wiggling my way out of my car, I lock it and trek toward the average looking building with huge, red garage doors. Just as I reach the entrance, I’m met by one of the guys who’s on his way out, and like a gentleman, he holds it open for me.