Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 48518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Nope. No. Absolutely not going down that thought path.
He jerks his chin toward my porch. “You should get inside. Weather’s dropping.”
“Right. I will. As soon as the grumpy welcome committee clears my steps.”
He stares at me. I stare back. For a moment, the air between us hums. Something sharp. Bright. Electric.
Then he breaks it. “Suit yourself, Sparky.” He turns to Holly. “Come on, kiddo. We gotta get dinner started.”
Holly leans toward me. “He cooks pasta like a monster. Don’t trust him.”
Ash groans. “Holly.”
She giggles and follows him down the path.
Ash glances back once—just once—eyes flicking over me again like he’s memorizing something he has no business memorizing.
Then he disappears into the trees.
Over the next few hours, I manage to get three boxes into the cabin before I hear the crunch of boots behind me again. I whirl around, ready to defend my “festive sparkle” with the full force of my stubbornness.
Ash stands there, holding a small cardboard box.
“You dropped this out by your car,” he says, handing it over.
“Oh. Thanks.”
He doesn’t move. Just stands there in the cold, watching me like he’s trying to figure me out.
“You moving out here alone?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“No boyfriend coming?”
“No boyfriend.” Not after the last disaster. Not after— Stop.
His gaze flicks over my face, sharp. “Good.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
He shrugs one thick shoulder. “Less chance of someone else messing with my emergency calls.”
“And what does that mean?”
“It means if your lights blow a fuse—and they will—I’m the one who gets dragged out at midnight.”
I stare at him. “You assume a lot.”
“I’m a firefighter,” he says. “It’s my job to assume the worst.”
I fold my arms. “Well, it’s my job to be optimistic.”
His lips twitch again. “That right?”
“Yes. I’m restoring the library. Bringing back story hours and book clubs. Community events.”
“More fire hazards.”
I step closer. “You’re very obsessed with fires.”
He steps closer too. “And you’re very obsessed with pretending nothing ever goes wrong.”
My breath quickens. “Maybe I like believing the world can be good.”
“Maybe I like preparing for when it’s not.”
We’re inches apart now.
Too close. Way too close.
Holly’s voice breaks the tension as she runs up from nowhere, a blur of purple boots.
“Uncle Ash! You forgot my mittens!”
Ash curses under his breath and steps back. I feel his warmth disappear like someone ripped away a blanket. He grabs the mittens from her and mumbles, “Thanks, kid.”
Holly looks up at me. “Are you coming to the parade? They have candy canes.”
“I’ll be there,” I say.
She beams and runs back toward their cabin.
Ash lingers.
“Don’t overload the outlets,” he says.
“I’m not an idiot.”
He gives me a slow once-over. “I’ll let you know when my opinion changes.”
My jaw drops. “You—”
He walks away before I can finish, boots crunching, shoulders broad and unbothered.
I shout after him: “For the record, I’m perfectly capable of handling a few string lights!”
His voice carries back through the trees:
“Sure you are, Sparky. Sure you are.”
By nightfall, I’ve hung exactly three strands of lights and burned hot chocolate to the bottom of a pot. I step onto the porch to cool off—and nearly jump when I see Ash standing in his own yard, staring at my lights like they’ve personally offended him.
He crosses his arms, lifting one brow. “They’re crooked.”
“They’re festive.”
“They’re a fire risk.”
“They’re LED!”
“Doesn’t matter.”
I point a finger at him. “You are impossible.”
He smirks—actually smirks—like he’s been waiting for that.
“And you,” he says, voice low, “are my sparkly pain in the ass.”
Heat shoots straight down my spine. I turn quickly so he won’t see the way my face flames hotter than the cocoa I incinerated.
“Goodnight, Ash,” I mutter.
“Goodnight, Sparky,” he calls back, maddeningly satisfied.
I shut the door behind me and lean on it, breath catching, heart racing, pulse drumming in my throat.
Day one in Devil’s Peak and I’ve already met the man who is absolutely going to ruin my peace. My grumpy, irritating, stupidly attractive firefighter neighbor. And apparently… my new nickname is Sparky.
God help me.
Chapter Two
Ash
The conference room inside Devil’s Peak Community Hall smells like burnt coffee, pine cleaner, and trouble.
Not the actual emergency kind—though I’d prefer that. No. This is the kind of trouble that shows up wearing a red scarf, smelling like vanilla sugar, and carrying a binder covered in glittery snowflakes.
Lucy Snow.
She’s at the front of the room now, smiling like she’s about to fix world peace with construction paper. I take the empty chair at the back, fold my arms across my chest, and remind myself that I’m here for one reason only: To keep these lunatics from burning the town down with their holiday decorations.
“Thank you so much for coming!” Lucy chirps, flipping open her binder. “I’m thrilled to help with this year’s Fire & Frost Festival. We’ll start with the parade, then tree lighting, then the charity gala—”
“Hold up.” I don’t raise my voice, but it cuts through her sunshine like a blade.