Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 33213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
She barrels through the bay entrance—and skids to a stop.
Because there he is.
Saxon.
Standing beside Engine 19, sleeves shoved up, forearms out, jaw sharp enough to cut glass. He’s talking to Rowan and Boone about something mechanical, but the second he sees Junie sprinting toward him, his entire body shifts. Softens. Flickers with warmth I’ve never seen from him anywhere else.
“Captain Saxon!” Junie shouts at full volume.
His mouth twitches. “Hey, kid.”
She collides with his legs, hugging him like she’s known him forever. He doesn’t flinch.
Doesn’t hesitate. He just rests a large hand on her back, steady and warm.
Then he looks at me. Not like a man who’s annoyed his fake fiancée is at his job. Like a man who’s been waiting for her. Heat flashes low in my stomach.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I say, suddenly very aware of my hair, my clothes, my everything. “She insisted—this moose—she wouldn’t let it go. Dinner was a disaster. I figured we’d get it over with so she can sleep tonight.”
He steps closer, still keeping a hand on Junie’s shoulder.
“You never apologize for that,” he says quietly. “Seeing you two is the highlight of my day.”
My heart lurches.
Rowan whistles. “Damn, Cap, go off.”
Saxon shoots him a murderous look. Rowan backs away fast.
Junie thrusts the clay blob upward. “I made this for you. It’s a moose.”
Saxon crouches down. Takes the moose carefully—as if it’s fragile instead of lopsided and vaguely tragic—and turns it over like he’s inspecting fine art.
“You made this for me?” he asks.
“Yes,” she beams.
He nods once. “Best thing I’ve gotten in a long time.”
My throat tightens. Junie practically levitates with joy, then runs off to find the dalmatian statue near the front door. Leaving me alone with him.
“Thank you for being nice about it,” I murmur.
He stands. Looks down at me. “Wouldn’t dream of being anything else.”
I laugh under my breath. “You? Nice?”
He steps closer—too close—voice dropping. “You don’t think I’m nice?”
My breath catches. “I… didn’t say that.”
“No,” he murmurs, eyes dropping to my mouth. “You didn’t.”
Before I can respond, Junie yells, “Mommy! Look! Fire hats!”
I turn, smiling reluctantly, but Saxon doesn’t step back.
Not even an inch. And God, his presence does things to my nervous system I don’t have labels for.
“Let her look around,” he says. “She’s fine.”
“So long as she doesn’t accidentally drive the truck.”
“She won’t.”
“You don’t know Junie.”
“I know you,” he murmurs.
My stomach flips. “You absolutely do not know me.”
He smirks, soft and slow. “Getting there.”
Before I can drop into the floor and combust, Axel jogs in from the back.
“Cap! Boone messed with the hose pressure again—”
“Did not!” Boone shouts.
“Did so!”
Saxon exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Idiots.”
I laugh, and he looks at me again. Something unreadable flickers in his expression.
“Stay here,” he says, voice softer. “I’ll be right back.”
He walks out toward the training bay with his crew, muscles moving under his shirt in a way that should be illegal. I stand by Junie, trying to breathe normally. Bad idea.
Because two seconds later, Axel yells, “Pressure’s ready!”
And Boone yells, “Don’t point it at me, dumbass—”
Too late. A blast of water shoots across the yard. Directly into me. Cold water drenches me from chest to knees. I gasp, choking on air, and stagger backward.
Junie screams, “Mommy!”
I look down at myself—at my T-shirt plastered to my skin, outlining every curve, every shiver.
The entire station goes silent.
Every firefighter freezes.
And then Saxon appears from the training yard. He stops dead in the middle of the bay. His eyes snap to me. His jaw locks. His pupils dilate.
And he swallows. Hard. So hard the entire crew hears it.
Rowan whispers reverently, “Captain’s suffering.”
I laugh. I cannot help it. The absurdity, the mortification, the cold—all of it bubbles into hysterical laughter.
Saxon doesn’t laugh.
“Saxon?” I say, breathless.
He moves toward me slowly, deliberately, like a predator approaching something delicate he’s not sure he should touch.
His eyes travel down my soaked shirt. Down my skin. Heat detonates low in my stomach.
“Briar,” he says softly, voice rough, “are you okay?”
“I—yeah—just cold.”
He lifts a hand as if to touch me then stops himself at the last second.
Glares over his shoulder. “Which one of you idiots did that?”
Boone immediately points at Axel. “Him!”
“Traitor,” Axel hisses.
Saxon groans like he’s praying for strength. “The hell is wrong with you two?”
Rowan hops up on the front bumper of the engine. “Cap, be honest, you didn’t mind.”
Saxon turns slowly. “I will throw you through a window.”
Rowan grins. “Worth it.”
I clamp my arms over my chest, which only makes Saxon’s jaw clench more.
“I—I should go dry off,” I say.
He looks at me with something like pain. “No,” he says immediately. “Stay.”
“Saxon, I’m soaked.”
“Yeah,” he mutters, eyes darkening, “I noticed.”
Rowan howls. Boone fans himself dramatically. “Captain, please. We’re in public.”
“Shut up,” Saxon snaps.
Junie trots over, tugging my sleeve. “Mommy, you’re wet.”
“Sure am,” I chirp awkwardly.
Saxon tears his gaze away from my shirt long enough to swallow again. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”