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)
“I just did.”
He opens his mouth, but Briar beats him. “Matt, leave. Please.”
He looks at her, then at me, then mutters something under his breath and stalks off, shoulders tense and angry.
The principal claps her hands together. “Wonderful! I’ll update the paperwork immediately!”
I nod once. “Appreciate it.”
She disappears back into her office, humming with excitement and leaving me and Briar alone in the hallway. Then she slowly turns to me. Eyes wide. Mouth parted. Breathing hard.
“Saxon,” she whispers, strangled. “What did you just do?”
I shrug. “Helped.”
“Helped?” she squeaks. “You told my principal we’re engaged!”
“You told her first.”
“I panicked!”
“I covered you.”
She pushes her hands through her hair, pacing two frantic steps before spinning back to me. “This is insane. People are going to talk. The whole school—”
“Let them talk.”
“There’ll be gossip.”
“There’s already gossip.”
She groans. “Saxon—”
“Briar.”
She stops. I step closer.
Her back hits the bulletin board behind her, a poster with cartoon owls declaring WHO’s Ready to Learn? wrinkling behind her shoulder.
Her chest rises fast. Too fast. Her scent—vanilla lotion and maybe the faintest bit of caramel apple from the Fall Festival—wraps around us like a trap.
Her voice shakes. “Why did you agree to that?”
Because I watched her ex corner her. Because I heard the fear she tried to hide. Because I’ve been circling her for weeks and something primal snapped when someone threatened her stability.
But I don’t say any of that. Instead I say, “Because you needed help.”
She looks up sharply. “I told you I can handle my own life.”
“You don’t have to handle it alone,” I say, softer now. “Let me help you.”
Her lips part. That tiny sound she makes—like a startled exhale—hits deeper than it should.
“I shouldn’t have said it,” she breathes. “I didn’t think. It just came out.”
“And I didn’t hesitate,” I tell her. “That should tell you something.”
Her eyes jump to mine. “What does it tell me?”
“That I’m not letting you deal with this guy alone.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I know.”
She swallows, gaze flicking away, overwhelmed and flustered.
“It’ll blow over,” she whispers.
“No, it won’t.”
She stiffens.
I step closer, crowding her into the corkboard again. “Not with the way this town is.”
“What do you mean?” she asks quietly.
I smirk faintly. “Check your phone.”
She blinks. “Why?”
“Just check.”
She fishes it out with trembling fingers. Unlocks it. Gasps.
“Oh my god.”
I try not to laugh. “Told you.”
Her eyes dart across the screen.
There it is: A photo someone snapped in the two seconds my hand touched her back.
Uploaded to the town’s Facebook group, which is apparently run by lunatics.
The caption:
CONGRATS TO OUR FIRE CAPTAIN HOTTIE & THE NEW KINDER QUEEN — ENGAGED!
She makes a choked noise. “My mother follows this group.”
“So does half of Copper County.”
“Oh my god— Saxon— there are comments—”
I lean down. “Read them.”
“I can’t—”
“I’ll read them,” I say, plucking the phone from her hand.
Her pulse jumps at my fingers brushing hers.
I scroll. “‘He finally found a woman to tame him.’”
She groans. “Saxon—”
“‘She’s adorable.’” I pause. “Can’t argue with that.”
She swats my arm. “Give me that!”
I hold it over my head until she gives up, glaring. She’s flustered. Pink-cheeked. Breathing too fast.
Beautiful.
“Relax,” I say. “It’s handled.”
“Handled?” she repeats, stunned. “Handled? Saxon, the entire town thinks we’re engaged.”
“Seems that way.”
“And you’re… okay with that?”
I shrug. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
She stares at me like I’ve spoken in tongues. “Because it’s not true.”
“It’s a solution,” I counter. “A temporary one.”
“A temporary fake engagement,” she says, exasperated.
“Exactly.”
“You’re insane.”
“And you’re overwhelmed.”
She opens her mouth to argue—and doesn’t.
I lower my voice. “Let me help you.”
Something softens—dangerously—in her expression.
“Saxon,” she whispers. “This is too much.”
“I’m not asking you to marry me.”
“That’s literally what we just told everyone.”
“Only because it protects you.”
She swallows. Hard. Her eyes meet mine and hold.
“I don’t know what to do,” she admits quietly.
“You don’t have to know.” I step closer, letting my body heat ghost along hers. “You just have to trust me.”
Her breath catches. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
Her eyes flick to my mouth, so quick she thinks I won’t catch it.
I catch everything.
“Because you scare me,” she whispers.
My pulse spikes. “How?”
“Because you’re… intense. And you look at me like—”
“Finish it.” My voice darkens.
She shakes her head. I hold her gaze, refusing to let her hide. “Like what, sunshine?”
She hesitates. Then finally, in a small voice: “Like you want me.”
The air thickens. Dangerous. Electric. Over the line.
I lean in until my lips hover at her ear.
“I do,” I murmur.
Her whole body trembles.
She grips the bulletin board behind her like she needs something to hold onto.
“Saxon…” she says, breathless.
“Don’t worry,” I murmur. “I’ll behave.”
“You don’t look like you’re about to behave.”
“No,” I agree. “I don’t.”
We stay there in the empty hallway, breathing the same air, heat building between us like a fuse burning down.
Then her phone vibrates again.
She jumps. “Probably another comment.”
“Probably,” I say, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. “Let the town talk.”