Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Instead of making an inappropriate comment about another way he could warm me from the inside out, I accepted the thermos gratefully, taking a sip of what turned out to be the most perfect combination of apple, spices, and just enough whiskey to do exactly as promised. “Your sister has excellent taste in beverages.”
“She has excellent taste in general,” he replied, settling beside me on one of the log benches positioned near the main fire pit. “Which is why she’s been insufferable about you since day one.”
The casual admission caught me off guard. “Insufferable how?”
“Constantly reminding me that I’m an idiot for not being nicer to you. For…” He gestured vaguely between us, then reached for the bag of marshmallows on the table nearby.
“For?” I asked, accepting a skewer from him.
Maddox hesitated before flashing an unexpected smile. “For not teaching you proper s’mores technique. Watch and learn, city boy. Watch and learn.”
Before I could call him out for avoiding the question, he was already moving toward the fire, positioning his marshmallow at the perfect distance from the flames.
I fumbled for my phone, suddenly needing the familiar comfort of creating content, and walked closer to the fire.
“Okay, everyone,” I said to the camera, finding my professional voice. “Fire safety lesson number one: maintain proper distance between marshmallow and flame. As demonstrated by—”
“That’s close enough. Try not to set yourself on fire, Hayes,” Maddox called, noting my position. His voice carried a familiar note of fond exasperation.
I zoomed in on his face, catching his concentrated expression as he rotated his marshmallow with practiced precision. “As demonstrated by local s’mores expert and fire-safety know-it-all Maddox Sullivan.”
“Some of us grew up around actual fire,” he replied without looking away from his marshmallow. “Instead of gas fireplaces activated by wall switches.”
“Hey, those wall switches are very complicated. There’s an on position and an off position. Sometimes there’s even a timer.” I moved closer and held my own skewer toward the flames, immediately catching it on fire. “Shit!”
“Language,” Maddox chided, but I could hear him trying not to laugh. “And blow it out gently. Don’t—”
I waved the flaming marshmallow frantically, trying to extinguish it and only succeeding in creating a sticky, charred mess. The laughter finally escaped him—a rich, genuine sound that made my chest tight with something I didn’t want to examine too closely.
“What the hell is going on over here?” Judd asked, moving swiftly to remove the skewer from my hand and stick it in the empty tin can at his feet to starve it of oxygen. “Did you even listen to a word I said? Are you demonstrating what not to do?”
I held back my laughter while trying not to notice Maddox’s eyes dancing in smug satisfaction. “Sorry, Chief. I got carried away.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re putting people at risk because you can’t put your phone down.”
Alex Marian stepped forward, grabbing Judd’s arm and trying to pull him away. “Hey! He was just trying to film content like you asked him to. Take it easy on the guy. It’s not his fault you’re impossible to please.”
The chief’s eyes snapped to Alex’s and narrowed, causing a fuck-ton more sparks than my flaming marshmallow ever had. “Not sure you’re the one who should be giving safety advice, Firebug,” he growled.
Maddox met my eye and tilted his head over to the side. The two of us slowly backed away to another spot around the fire before either of the other men noticed we’d left.
“Jesus,” I murmured, glancing back at them. “Are they going to fight or fuck?”
Maddox watched the two of them sparring. “This has been going on for months. Maybe it’s just the way they are.”
“Okay, take two,” I announced to the camera, grabbing another marshmallow. “This time with adult supervision.”
Maddox stepped behind me, his arms coming around to guide my hands on the skewer. The position was intimate enough that several people around the fire exchanged knowing looks, but I found I didn’t care.
Maddox didn’t seem to care either. His chest was solid against my back, his hands warm over mine as he helped me position the marshmallow at the optimal distance from the flames.
“Patience,” he murmured near my ear. “Let it toast slowly. The goal is golden brown, not nuclear meltdown.”
“I don’t do patience well,” I admitted, very aware of how perfectly I fit against him.
“I’ve noticed.” His voice was dry, but his hands stayed steady over mine. “Just focus on the marshmallow. Stop thinking about the camera. Just be here.”
I tried to follow his advice, watching the white surface gradually turn golden under the gentle heat. There was something meditative about it, the simple focus required to rotate the skewer slowly and evenly. For once, I wasn’t thinking about angles or lighting or how many likes this would get.
“There,” Maddox said quietly, his breath warm against my temple. “Perfect.”