Chapter Two
Tori Shackleford
The pace that evening at work was busy on steroids. For the most part, the eddy of customers flowed around me, creating a low hum. Until one moment. I was stunned into silence when I locked eyes with a man, one I’d never seen before. Shaggy, honey-brown hair, rich cognac eyes.
Of course he was a firefighter. There was a surplus of them here in Willow Brook.
I wanted to know his name, but I was working. When I hurried by him later, he caught my eye again, and his lips quirked at the corners. My belly responded with a shimmy and twist.
A few days later
I sat down on a large boulder, letting out a happy sigh.
It was just me, myself, and my old dog, Bella.
She promptly began sniffing everything she could, every grain of sand, every rock, pieces of seaweed, the ocean water lapping at the sand, the air, all of it.
My dog knew how to be fully present in a moment.
“Home,” I said aloud.
Willow Brook was home, along with Alaska and this little spot on the beach here. When I was a little girl, my mom used to take me here for walks, for frolicking, for rock hunting, and more.
Looking for a distraction, I leaned down, scooping up a piece of lava rock, my favorite kind of rock.
They were lightweight and always seemed as if they’d been dropped here from another galaxy.
This one was a deep burgundy color on one side that transitioned into black on the other.
I lightly tossed it back and forth in my hands before setting it down on the boulder, planning to take it home with me.
I sat on that boulder for a little while, savoring the salty air and the birds chattering above the shoreline before I called Bella back.
She was mostly deaf, but if I managed to make eye contact when I said her name, she came right over.
She was a medium-sized brown dog with a half-tail.
It wasn’t purposefully docked like some, but literally about half length with kind of an angle on the end.
The vet’s best guess was she got it trapped in something.
Bella was my shadow, my soul dog. She went everywhere with me and was as loyal as a dog could be.
Just as I got in the car, I heard a buzzing sound and glanced over to see some kind of bee flying straight for me.
I yelled and swatted at it, but it zoomed right back and stung me just above my collarbone.
“Asshole!” I pointlessly hollered.
A few minutes later, I was driving back toward Willow Brook, toward home. The last thing I recalled was Bella letting out a sharp, unexpected bark. I woke up to the sound of the tail-end of my own yelp.
“There she is,” a rumbling voice said.
I fought through layers of confusion and tried to drag in a deep breath, but my throat felt unbelievably tight.
“Take it easy,” the voice said. “You’re in the middle of an anaphylactic reaction.
The antihistamine shot should be taking effect.
Give it a few minutes, and you’ll be able to breathe a little better. ”
I dragged my eyes open and looked around wildly. I felt funny all over, and my throat was itchy and scratchy.
“Your dog is a good girl,” the man said when I finally managed to focus on his face.
Holy wow. Even though I was half out of it, I knew a handsome man when I saw one. This guy was all handsome. His concerned brown eyes held mine. “How are you doing?”
My mind distantly clocked that I’d seen him at work the other night. He seemed professional. He was kneeling in the open driver’s side door of my car with what appeared to be a bag with medical supplies on the ground.
“Did I pass out while I was driving?” I took another breath and discovered the tightness was loosening in my throat. I got more oxygen this time, and the fog in my brain started to clear.
Bella was beside me, her chin on my thigh. “I’m guessing you got stung by something.” He lightly tapped his fingertip right where that stupid bee, or whatever, had stung me.
“Yeah, right before I got in my car. I’ve been stung before,” I said slowly, as my thoughts started to organize themselves a little more coherently.
“Most people don’t have a reaction until their second sting,” he said. “You slid off the road, and your dog here started barking up a storm. I had my windows down nearby and heard her.”
“Oh,” I said brilliantly. “Are you an EMT?” I asked a moment later.
He was tucking things away in his bag. His gaze lifted to mine again.
Although apparently, I had almost just died from anaphylactic shock, butterflies tickled my belly when his rich chocolate gaze snagged mine.
His shaggy brown hair fell over his eyes.
He had a straight nose, strong cheekbones that angled down to molded lips, and a square jaw with a little dimple at the base of his chin.
His lips kicked up at one corner and, holy hell, another dimple peeked out. “I’m a hotshot firefighter, not officially an EMT, but we all have first responder training, it’s kinda part of the job.”
My lips still felt a little funny, and I pressed them together quickly, relieved that the numbness and tingling were starting to wear off. “You can’t throw a rock in Willow Brook without hitting a hotshot firefighter,” I managed to tease.
He chuckled, and the sound spun through me, sending my belly into a swoop. “True,” he said as he tipped his head to the side.
He leaned back, and I was abruptly disappointed to have him move away from me. “Are you leaving now?” Alarm shot through me with a burst of dizzying anxiety on its heels. I had just passed out in my car by myself with my dog.
“I’m not leaving,” he replied, his tone easygoing. “You shouldn’t drive for a while. Also, when you drove off the road, you collided with a boulder.”
“What?” I shook my head, trying to think. “Is my car okay?”
“Mostly. You have a small scratch on your bumper, but you also have a flat tire and a bent rim. I’ll give you a ride. To be on the safe side, we should probably take you to the hospital to get you checked out.”
“Oh, no, no, no.” I waved a hand in the air, the motion wobbly. “I’m fine, right? You gave me a shot, and I’m all set,” I protested.
“Am I going to have to be official and insist?” He looked genuinely concerned, his gorgeous brown eyes studying me.
I let out a sigh. “Fine, I’ll go.” Bella nudged my knee with her nose, and I absently stroked her head.
Eventually, he helped me out of the car. It was not a bad deal at all to have his strong hands guiding me up and out. He kept an arm around my shoulders to help keep me steady as I walked up the slight incline to his truck.
Bella was practically glued to my calves. He insisted on helping me into his passenger seat and buckling me in. Maybe it was because I was a little out of it, but when he leaned over to buckle my seatbelt, I almost kissed him.
Once I was situated, he opened the back door and lifted Bella into the back. She immediately poked her head in between the seats and licked my elbow.
He chuckled. “She takes good care of you.”
“Bella is my family,” I said simply as I leaned over and gave her a kiss on top of her head.
His lips quirked at the corners. “Good to know her name.”
I tried to carry on a conversation on the drive to the hospital, but I was still hazy. I learned his name was Kincaid. He’d recently moved to Willow Brook when he accepted a position on one of the hotshot crews here. He was from somewhere in the lower 48, but I couldn’t remember where.
We got into a little standoff in the parking lot at the hospital when he wanted to put me in a wheelchair and wheel me in. I refused. “No.”
When his lips twitched at the corners, I felt all tingly inside.
Without a word, he curled an arm around my waist and walked me inside. When we stopped in front of the circular desk, a familiar face looked up at me. “Tori!”
“Holly?”
Holly grinned. “I heard you were back in town and that you’ve been working at Fireweed Winery, but I haven’t seen you.” Her eyes shifted to Kincaid. “Is she okay?”