Chapter 1 - Clay
Present Day
“Heads up!”
I jerk my head upward, just in time to catch the heavy hose that’s being carelessly tossed my way over the large pumper truck by Josiah.
“Watch it, Cat-Man! Almost took my head off,” I shout back over the noise, gripping the thick rubber hose as I turn it on, sending a steady stream of water over the truck to wash away the grime of the past week.
Josiah earned the name Cat-Man after that one time he saved eight of a woman’s cats from a burning house. He’d hooked their claws onto his turnout gear and tucked them into every available pocket, turning himself into a walking feline rescue operation.
When he’d finally exited the home, he’d been clawed up so badly that he had scars to this day on his chest and thighs from where the kittens had dug into him to hold tight. But the cats had all made it and that was what mattered most to him.
That, and he shares that story with any woman who will listen to it. Claims it gets him more tail than you could imagine.
Cat-Man.
I watch as the mix of mud, dirt, and oil cascade onto the asphalt outside the station as I rinse off the wheel wells, the soapy suds turning black as they wash clean.
It’s another scorching, late spring day in Lonestar Junction, with temperatures pushing past 110 degrees Fahrenheit.
A few fires have flared out of control, forcing our truck through muddier terrain than usual.
Despite that, the chief wouldn’t tolerate our fleet looking anything less than spotless, so here we are, me and the guys on shift today, scrubbing the trucks down shirtless, seeking what little relief the shade from the two willow trees on the property can offer.
I feel my phone buzz in my turnout pants pocket and slide it out to check the ID. Tucking it under my ear so I can continue working, I answer, “Nash, what’s going on?”
“Hey, are you going to be here today or are you skipping out on me again?”
I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me.
My brother still hasn’t adjusted to the idea of me working in the fire department—a job I started just six months ago.
I’d made it clear that while I’d help with Ashwood ranch when I could, he might want to consider hiring another operations manager if he isn’t planning on running things full-time anymore.
Besides, with his two teenage twin sons, he has more than enough hands to help around Ashwood ranch now.
“I’ll be there in the next two hours. I’m finishing washing the trucks.”
I slide my phone back into my pocket, complete rinsing my section of the big pumper truck, then shut off the valve.
Grabbing some microfiber cloths, I start drying every surface within reach, all while listening to Cat-Man launch into an elaborate story about his latest call and how he scored a date after doing CPR on a woman’s ninety-year-old grandmother.
I chuckle and shake my head as I continue to work.
I love working at the station, enjoying the easy banter among the men and women who wear the Lonestar Junction Volunteer Fire Department uniform.
We are a small fleet for a small town that is quickly expanding, stretching out toward San Angelo, our closest city.
But it’s the camaraderie and the close-knit, almost familial bond among the crew that had drawn me in six months ago.
It didn’t hurt that Chief Hollister was a longtime friend of my older brothers and someone who’d known me my entire life.
He was a great boss who took me under his wing the moment I expressed interest in doing something new, something beyond what I’d known for most of my life working on the Cameron and Ashwood family ranches.
And during the past six months, he’s been grooming me to eventually take over as chief of the department someday.
It’d been a semi-snap decision to join the force, not one I’d put a ton of thought behind, but after another long night and a morning where I was in bed with a woman who I couldn’t remember meeting, naked, with my dick still stuffed inside of a wilted condom, I realized that something needed to change.
Thirty-five years old was young, I’d reminded myself, plenty of time to start over, even if I felt the ache of my drinking habit, cigars and perpetual restlessness catching up to my young bones.
If I’m being honest, it’d felt like I’d stopped living the day Savannah left me six years ago. I hadn’t aged—I was stuck at twenty-nine, the age I was when she blindsided me with a breakup, right after I’d spent six months by her bedside while she was in a medically induced coma after her accident.
After she left, I needed a change. Itched for something different.
I was tired of being the last to know what was going on around me.
Being the youngest of the family, with my brothers ten and eleven years older than me, I was always left out of the big decisions about Cameron or Ashwood Ranch, or even the planning for large family events and considerations for major changes to the businesses.
And while I loved my sisters-in-law, Jovie, and Stevie, they didn’t trouble me with the details either. We’d all grown, yet I’d forever be ten years younger than them and still just ′Clay, the youngest son who is trying to figure things out.′
I was ready to feel needed, to make a difference. To be done fumbling through life aimlessly. And what better way to do that than by helping save lives in Lonestar Junction?
Maybe I was also a bit of a masochist for wanting to take all the calls that involved car accidents—they reminded me of the day that I discovered the woman I loved had been cheating on me and the life I was living was a lie.
A few minutes later, I finish drying the truck and toss the damp rags into the basket Cat-Man is hauling back into the station to clean.
“I’m heading out for the day, guys,” I wave over to the men finishing up on the remaining trucks.
I step out of the shaded area where we’ve been working and begin crossing the gravel lot toward the station parking area, headed for my truck that I’ll take to Ashwood.
But before I can take more than a few steps, a tiny blue Hyundai races across the space, screeching to a crooked stop in one of the visitor parking spots.
The passenger door flies open, and Maggie Hollister bounds out.
Her chestnut curls are tucked into a messy bun atop her head, and her brown eyes are hidden behind oversized black sunglasses.
She’s wearing a flowery sundress that’s far too short and swirling around in the breeze, forcing her to clutch at the hem to keep it in place.
The spaghetti straps that cling to her top desperately remind me just how much she’s grown up since the days when she used to babysit my twin nephews, and I find myself unable to look away from her strong, tan legs.
“Whew-wee,” I hear Cat-Man whisper-shout a little too loudly from behind me, prompting me to glance back at him, my brows raised.
Admiring the chief’s twenty-year-old daughter who is home from college is one thing but catcalling her will result in a much worse punishment than washing the trucks in sweltering conditions.
Plus, though Maggie is a knock-out, she’s too sweet, too innocent, and doesn’t deserve to be disrespected by an inappropriate gesture like that.
Maggie turns to follow the obnoxious sound of Josiah’s whistles, lowering her sunglasses to take in the sight of me and the three other shirtless firefighters working on the vehicles.
“Clay Cameron!” she shrieks with a wide smile and immediately begins sprinting toward me.
Before I can react, she’s launching herself at me, wrapping her tiny arms around my neck and standing on her tiptoes to hug me tightly.
The juxtaposition of her soft, supple body against my hard, sweaty one is stark, and she holds me for much longer than she should as I stand frozen, unsure what to do.
It’s been just over a year since I’ve last seen her, the summer before she left for school in Houston.
She’s changed a lot from the girl I remember into the woman she is now.
We’ve never been particularly close—our families were, but she’d always been just a kid.
There was a time when she acted as if she couldn’t stand me, and I was sure I deserved it.
So, this warm, enthusiastic welcome is both unsettling and completely out of character.
I stand confused by the affectionate greeting, which feels a lot like we’re long-lost friends and not hardly acquaintances, until I notice her wobble slightly on her thick, wedged sandals before catching herself and letting out a soft hiccup.
When she pulls back, she’s smiling at me, all those perfectly white, square teeth, her sunglasses are now pushed up on top of her head and her hazel eyes are shimmering with flecks of green, brown, and full out drunkenness.
At that moment, the driver’s side door opens and a tall figure with long, shaggy blonde hair and a lean frame steps out. He strides confidently in my direction without acknowledging me.
“Babe,” he calls out, “Let’s get out of here. Go say hi to your dad so we can get going or we’ll miss Kenny Chesney.”
I narrow my eyes, glancing between the two of them and trying to piece together their relationship.
This guy certainly has guts showing up at Maggie’s father’s fire department, surrounded by shirtless, muscular firefighters ready to protect the chief’s daughter.
But it quickly becomes clear that his confidence is sorely misplaced.
I haven’t paid much attention to Maggie’s social circle in the past, but this guy doesn’t strike me as someone the Chief would want his daughter involved with. Especially since he’s been eagerly anticipating her return for the summer after not seeing her for over a year.
Maggie hiccups beside me again, and before she can say another word, I decide to shut down this shit show before it spirals any further.
“She’s not going with you,” I respond coolly.
Confrontation might not have been my thing when I was younger, but I’ve changed a lot over the past six years, and I’m no longer one to sit back and idly watch as people ruin their lives.
Something inside of me tells me that if Maggie Hollister gets in the car with this loser, her life is going to be ruined.
“Fuck off, dude. Don’t you have a fire to go put out or something? Like, I don’t know, maybe the sun? It’s hot as hell out here,” the stupid blonde kid shoots back, clearly annoyed.
I step towards him, moving Maggie behind me slightly in a protective stance before getting closer to his face and taking a discreet sniff of his breath before lowering my voice.
“I’m going to call you a cab and send you to wherever the hell you crawled out of. You’re going to take it and miss out on Kenny Chesney tonight. And Maggie will be going to her home to sleep.”
He hisses in response.
“Or I can call my good friend Sheriff Davenport and have him come get you for drinking and driving, public intoxication, underage drinking and supplying to a minor.”
I hear Maggie gasp behind me as her body stiffens, standing ramrod straight.
Shaggy-haired Blondie narrows his eyes, trying to peek around the solid wall of muscle I present to catch a glimpse of her.
I casually shift my weight, blocking his view entirely, cutting off any chance of making eye contact with her.
“Don’t even look at her, dude,” I drop my voice lower as I let out a growl that causes the kid to jump backwards slightly.
“Whatever,” He tosses back as he heads towards his vehicle. “I’ll wait in my car for the cab.”
“You’ll wait in the station!” I bark back, causing him to jump and quickly redirect his footsteps to the station instead.
I make sure he’s inside of the building before turning back to Maggie.
Her plump lips are slightly parted as she looks up at me, running her tongue across the bottom one nervously.
She’s clearly more sober than she’d been a few minutes ago.
The brown and green in her eyes swirl with nerves, and for a moment, I hate myself for being the reason behind the fear she’s so clearly wearing all over her face.
I shake my head, reminding myself it’s for her safety.
She’s not your friend, and that guy could’ve seriously hurt someone.
“I won’t tell your dad,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “But you need to get out of here. He’s been telling us all how excited he is about your summer home from college. He’ll be really hurt if he sees you like this.”
She nods vigorously, her eyes still full of anxiety.
“Come on,” I add gently. “Let me give you a ride. I’m heading out anyway.”