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)
Sienna pops up beside him, flour on her cheeks. “Finally! Somebody managed to un-grumpify Calder.”
“Un-what?” I growl.
“Un-grumpify,” she repeats, patting Lucy’s arm. “Great job, honey.”
Lucy makes a strangled noise, probably wishing the floor would swallow her. Her cheeks burn a deep shade of rose. I step just slightly closer to her, instinct taking over.
“Knock it off,” I snap at the crew.
They don’t. Not even a little.
Talon smirks. “Relax, Calder. We’re happy for you.”
Lucy’s eyes flick up at me, nervous, questioning.
I exhale slowly. To hell with it.
I place my hand on her lower back—low enough to claim, high enough not to scandalize—but when I feel her shiver under my touch, heat flashes through me.
Her blush deepens.
Mine probably does too, but I don’t pull away.
She leans, just enough for me to feel it. That tiny movement sets something inside me alight. And that’s when I see it–the knowing looks. The smirks. The whispered bets exchanging hands. Holly beaming at Lucy like she’s the best Christmas present she’s ever gotten.
Everyone knows.
Everyone.
And it should make me want to run but it doesn’t. It feels like breathing for the first time in months.
The breakfast rush sweeps us inside. I flip pancakes while Lucy pours cocoa and Holly hands out candy canes to other kids. It feels weirdly domestic, like a moment carved out of a life I didn’t let myself imagine until now.
Every time Lucy passes behind me, I feel her. Her warmth. Her scent.
Her presence. Her arm brushes mine once—just once—and my grip on the spatula tightens.
She glances up at me, startled by the intensity I know I’m not hiding well. Her knees wobble a little. And that right there nearly takes me out.
When things finally slow, I catch her by the refreshment table. She’s refilling whipped cream on the cocoa bar, humming under her breath. I take a step toward her. She looks up. Stops humming. Watches me approach with a soft, breathless expression that hits somewhere deep.
“You doing okay?” I ask.
“I—I think so.” She laughs nervously. “They all know.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re not bothered?”
“No.” I step closer. “You?”
She swallows. “Not really.”
That tiny admission sends heat through me.
Before she can turn away, Holly grabs her hand. “Miss Lucy, come see the truck—in the back bay! It has lights!”
Lucy shoots me a smile—soft, excited, unbearably sweet—and lets Holly pull her toward the rear apparatus doors.
I follow because I’ll always follow this woman.
The back bay is quiet compared to the main room. The ladder truck is parked there glowing under strings of twinkle lights we hung two nights ago. Snow falls beyond the open doorway, flakes drifting like feathers, the mountain invisible beyond the haze.
Lucy steps closer to the truck, eyes wide. “Oh… wow.”
Holly beams. “It’s magic.”
Lucy touches the cold metal of the bumper, her breath fogging in the air. She turns back toward me. “Did you decorate this?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
She smiles at me, slow and full of something I can’t look away from.
I walk toward her, each step deliberate. I’m not pretending anymore. I’m not hiding anything. When I reach her, I place two fingers under her chin and gently tilt her face up to mine.
Her breath stutters.
“Lucy,” I say quietly.
“Yes?”
“This isn’t a spark anymore.” My thumb brushes her jaw—slow, claiming. “It’s an inferno.”
Her lips part, her eyes darken.
“And I’m keeping it.”
Her breath leaves her in a shocked, soft exhale. “Ash…”
“You don’t scare me,” I say. “You don’t confuse me. You don’t… make me unsure. You just make me want you.”
The tremble in her lower lip just about kills me.
“And if you want out,” I add, “say it now. Say it before I go any further.”
Her eyes fill—not tears, but something brighter, deeper.
“Then don’t let go,” she whispers.
I don’t.
Not ever.
I lean in and kiss her.
The second our lips touch, everything inside me ignites. Her hands slide up my chest, over my shoulders. She rises onto her toes, pressing her body into mine, and I grip her waist, pulling her closer, deeper.
The kiss is slow only for a heartbeat. Then Lucy makes this soft, breathy sound into my mouth, and my restraint fractures. I kiss her harder—hungry, controlled only by the thin edge of wanting her right, wanting her safe, wanting her always.
The snow drifts around us beyond the truck bay. The twinkle lights glow off the chrome. Her fingers in my hair pull a low groan from my chest I can’t contain.
She tastes like cocoa and winter air and every soft thing I thought I’d lost.
“Lucy…” I murmur against her lips.
She shivers. “Don’t stop.”
I don’t. I kiss her again and again—slow, then deep, then desperate—until I’m not sure where she ends and I begin. My hand slides along her spine, guiding her closer until she’s flush against me.
Every part of me is burning for her. We break only when a small tug pulls at my sleeve. Holly stands next to us, blinking up with starry eyes and pure triumph.