Micah (Daisy Hills Volunteer Firefighters #3)

1. Avery

1

AVERY

“Avery, you’re going to be late!”

With some serious struggle, my eyes flutter open. Exhaustion settles into my bones, making even the smallest movement ten times harder than it needs to be. Where am I? A flour-dusted, chilled, stainless-steel surface stretches out in front of me. It fills my eye line, seemingly going on forever. Oh right, I’m at the bakery .

“Honey, you need to get going,” Audrey Walker, the owner of The Sweet Tooth , insists. She’s holding out a damp washcloth, and my still sleepy brain starts to register that my pillow is squishy instead of fluffy.

“Why is my face—” I sit up, bread dough peeling stickily from my cheek. I’ve been picking up extra shifts in between my increasingly packed schedule of photography shoots. A few weeks ago it seemed harmless enough. Audrey needed help preparing for the upcoming festival and I’m saving up to open my own studio. Win – win. But falling asleep in bread dough might actually be a new low for me. I accept the washcloth, scrubbing at the dough on my cheek while simultaneously brushing the flour off my sleeve. “I’m sorry I fell asleep?—”

“I got this,” she says, urgency in her tone. “You better run. They’re waiting for you at the fire hall.”

“Shit!” I jump up, panic shredding my exhaustion as I notice the clock. I’m fifteen minutes late for the Daisy Hills Volunteer Firefighter calendar photoshoot.

I’m told it’s quite the honor to be the photographer selected for the yearly fundraiser. Making a good impression is almost as important as capturing the timeless images that’ll hang on the walls of Daisy Hills citizens for months to come. This one opportunity has the potential to make my dreams of being a full-time photographer come true.

I swipe my purse off its hook, ignoring the series of chimes coming from inside it, and toss the washcloth towards the counter. No time to check my phone right now. “I’m sorry about the mess.”

“Go!”

Foot pressed hard against the gas pedal, I speed the three blocks to the fire hall, gambling that Audrey’s husband isn’t patrolling downtown right now.

I’m forced to park around the corner, as all the other spots are either occupied or designated for emergency vehicles only. Grabbing my camera bag, I cross my fingers and send up a silent prayer. If I had my wits about me last night, after three hours of edits that ended around midnight, I packed everything I’d need today.

Pausing on the sidewalk, I redo my hair scrunchy so I don’t look like I just rolled out of bed, and pop a breath mint. I should probably back off on the extra bakery shifts, if only for a day or two to catch up on sleep.

The front door to the fire hall is locked. I momentarily panic until I hear an excited yip from a pup. Oh yeah. Haley told me on the phone yesterday. They’re out back .

As if the volunteer firefighters weren’t hot enough on their own merit, they’ve teamed up with the local animal shelter. “The proceeds from this fundraiser will benefit both organizations,” I remind myself, trying desperately to focus on the facts. Because my overactive imagination has the potential to get me in some serious hot water if I’m not careful. At least when it comes to one particular volunteer firefighter: Micah Ericson.

I race around the side of the tall brick structure and nearly collide with an entirely different type of brick wall. One of the tall, dark, and handsome variety.

“Micah,” I say, his name slipping out breathlessly. I pull my palm back before it can make contact with his bare chest. He’s wearing his coveralls, one side open, and no shirt underneath. I’ve seen him with his shirt off dozens of times. It’s not a big deal.

So why is it suddenly so hard, after years of indifference, to keep my composure?

“Hey, there you are,” he says, a lopsided grin making my stomach do funny flip-flops. A couple of weeks ago, Micah Ericson was safely in the friend zone. A place I’ve firmly kept him since we met in college. But then our third roommate had to go and move out with his new wife. Leaving Micah and me completely alone in our rented house until we can find a new roommate. I thought it would be no big deal. I thought I could do it.

I can do it.

I have to do it.

“I’m sorry I’m late?—”

“Relax. You’re right on time.”

“Oh good.” I feel the sigh of relief throughout my entire body. Though Micah will never admit how much trouble it was, I know he pulled more than a few strings to get me this gig. The last thing I want to do is screw it up. “Thanks again for?—”

“What’s on your cheek?” he asks, eyebrow raised. Why does that simple gesture make him look sexier than he already is?

I press my fingers to my right cheek, searching for the offending substance I thought I’d scrubbed clean.

“The other one.” He reaches a thumb to my opposite cheek and gently brushes my skin. My cheek buzzes with electricity at his touch. “Is that flour?”

“Oh, yeah.” I let out a soft laugh that erodes any initial embarrassment. In all the years I’ve known Micah, it’s always been this way between us. I just hope my little inconvenient crush doesn’t ruin the simple things. “I, uh, fell asleep on a loaf of bread dough.”

“You’re working too much,” he says, concern in both his tone and cobalt eyes.

“It’s just for now,” I say, forcing a smile, and hoping I mean it. Hoping that moving to Daisy Hills a year ago hasn’t been for nothing. I need to double my savings before I can start shopping for studio space. Then I’ll know for sure that following Micah to his hometown to take a chance on myself was the right move.

“Are you going to take it easy today? After this photoshoot?” he asks, a tone that always felt like a big brother suddenly feeling like… more . I shake the intrusive thought away and force my attention to my camera bag.

“I have shoots all day,” I answer. “I probably won’t be home until late.” What I don’t tell him is that I purposely scheduled several back-to-back photo shoots to avoid him at the house this week. He’s taken vacation time from his own business with the intention of fixing up the second floor so we can look for another renter. The less time the two of us spend alone together, the easier it’ll be to get over this annoying crush.

“Avery,” he says, his tone a protective warning.

“Avery, there you are!” Haley Collins calls, approaching us. A chorus of barking I didn’t seem to notice until now nearly drowns out her words. “We should get started. Henry and Penelope are getting antsy.”

“Henry still hasn’t been adopted?” I ask, my question barely a whisper. Not loud enough for Haley to actually hear.

“You should adopt him,” Micah suggests, not for the first time.

“I’m never home.” My heart aches, hoping the senior golden will find his forever home soon. I’m getting more than a little annoyed that Micah keeps suggesting this. “It wouldn’t be fair to him, and you know that.”

“I could help,” Micah offers.

“You’re just as busy,” I accuse, moving around him to follow Haley. I hate that I’m a little snippy with him, but I’m tired of him pushing. I put some physical distance between us, hoping the subject won’t cause an actual fight. It’s just one of the many reasons I can’t let him find out about this stupid crush. I won’t allow it to jeopardize our friendship.

“We were hoping to go in order,” Haley explains. “Start with Mr. January. That’s how we usually do it, anyway.”

“But the animals are running the show today,” I say, understanding. If I hadn’t been late, the original plan might have worked. The guilt is worse since Haley has become one of my closest friends since I moved to town. I was recently a bridesmaid in her wedding. “We can do whatever is easiest,” I assure her.

“I’ll help you get everyone sorted later,” she promises, briefly touching my arm before springing into action.

“She’s a force to be reckoned with, isn’t she?” Cassidy Maxwell says, coming up beside me. Another friend I’m grateful to have. When I left my life in the city, I left behind all my friends except for Micah. I thought we’d keep in touch, but I haven’t heard from a single one of them.

“She’s something, all right,” I chuckle. “How’s the new place?”

“Wonderful,” she says with a happy sigh, the glow of a newly-wed bride almost bursting from every pore as she glances to her husband, Declan, juggling an armful of kittens. Since at least two of them are sleeping, I doubt he’ll be the first one up. “I didn’t know love could be like this,” she quietly gushes.

“I’m happy for you.”

“And what about you?” Cassidy asks.

“What about me?” I ask, automatically glancing at Micah and immediately averting my gaze before I can do something stupid like smile at him loving on Henry. Dammit, get yourself under control .

“You seeing anyone?”

“You know I’d tell you if I was.”

“Would you though?” she challenges. Though Haley, Cassidy, and I have grown close, we’ve all been prone to our share of secrets. And my ridiculously inconvenient crush on Micah Ericson is one secret I intend to keep all to myself until it passes. Because it has to pass.

“I’m working sixteen-hour days,” I say, diverting. “There’s no time for any of that.”

“There’s always time for that, when it’s the right one,” Cassidy says.

Before I can argue, Haley’s waving me over to the side of a parked fire truck. I adjust my camera as I walk her way, which is why I don’t notice who the first pairing is until it’s too late to fully compose myself.

“Micah’s Mr. March,” Haley says, immediately drawing my attention to my secret crush kneeling beside the dog I desperately wish I could adopt but know I can’t. Henry . “Where do you want them?”