Chapter 4 #2
Johanna made it all the way to Blaze’s truck before realizing everyone on Main Street was watching them.
Not openly.
People in Sheraton Beach had perfected the art of respectable nosiness generations ago. Nobody stared directly. They simply found suspiciously convenient reasons to linger nearby.
A woman outside the bookstore adjusted the same display of candles three separate times.
Two older men near a comic bookstore swept an already-clean sidewalk while tracking Blaze’s every move.
Someone inside the diner on the corner nearly pressed their entire face against the glass.
Miss Adele stood outside her antique shop fussing dramatically with a pair of winter planters overflowing with ornamental cabbage and weather-worn pansies that appeared one frost away from giving up entirely.
Johanna narrowed her eyes.
Miss Adele smiled with saintly innocence. “Have a beautiful evening, baby.”
Johanna forced a polite smile even though embarrassment already crawled up her neck. “Thank you, Miss Adele.”
Blaze opened the passenger-side door for her then, and somehow that irritated her too.
Not because the gesture lacked charm, but because he did it naturally. Effortlessly.
Like opening doors for her still lived somewhere deep in his muscle memory. Like years hadn’t passed. Like he hadn’t shattered her heart and disappeared long enough for her to finally convince herself she’d healed.
Johanna gathered the hem of her dress carefully and climbed into the truck.
The interior smelled like leather, cedarwood, peppermint gum, and Blaze.
Warm and masculine. Entirely too familiar.
She tightened her grip on her clutch while staring straight ahead through the windshield.
She could handle one dinner. One evening. One auction date purchased by emotionally unstable girlfriends with terrible boundaries and too much disposable income.
That was all this was.
Blaze slid behind the wheel moments later, and the entire truck shifted around his presence instantly. Not aggressively, but noticeably.
He carried the kind of quiet masculinity that changed the atmosphere of a room without trying. The interior suddenly felt warmer. Smaller. More intimate.
Johanna hated how aware of him she became this quickly.
He glanced toward her while starting the engine. “You okay?”
“No.”
One corner of his mouth lifted slowly. “Honest answer.”
“You asked the question.”
“I did.”
The truck eased away from the curb while Main Street glowed outside beneath strings of twinkling lights and fading sunset.
Debbiecakes prepared to close for the evening, though employees still moved behind the glass boxing cupcakes for lingering customers. Clarence’s had a full parking lot, and somehow the scent of fried fish and hot sauce drifted into the truck when they passed.
Sheraton Beach at dusk looked unfairly romantic.
Couples walked hand in hand across cobblestone sidewalks. Music spilled from a piano bar’s front doors while laughter floated into the street. Lanterns glowed warmly beneath storefront awnings, softening the entire town into something cinematic.
Everything looked like the beginning of a love story, which was unfortunate considering the woman sitting in the passenger seat was actively trying not to have one.
Johanna glanced sideways at Blaze. “You planned this.”
“Of course I planned this.”
“That answer should concern me?”
He shook his head. “It should impress you.”
“Depends on the plan.”
His eyes slid briefly toward hers before returning to the road. “You don’t trust me?”
Johanna looked back out the window.
Trust.
That word carried too much weight between them. Too much history. “I trust you to drive safely.”
Blaze stayed quiet for a moment. Then he nodded slowly. “I’ll take what I can get.”
Something about the softness in his voice tugged at her chest in ways she did not appreciate. So, she pivoted quickly.
“Did the guys at the station give you grief about the auction?”
A low laugh rumbled out of him. “All week.”
“Good.”
He looked personally offended. “Good?”
“Yes.” Johanna crossed one leg over the other carefully. “Humility builds character.”
“I run into fires for a living.”
“And apparently you needed one woman with a bidding paddle to humble you publicly.”
That grin appeared again.
Heaven help her.
It started slowly before spreading across his face like sunlight breaking through clouds after a storm. Blaze’s smile had always been dangerous because it never felt practiced. Warmth lived inside it. The kind that made people relax without realizing it.
Johanna returned her attention to the evening view.
Too late.
Her stomach had already reacted.
“Technically,” Blaze said casually, “you didn’t humble me.”
She frowned. “What does that mean?”
“You bought me.”
Johanna whipped around so fast her curls brushed her shoulder. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like…” She waved one hand vaguely. “That.”
His grin deepened into something openly sinful. “Like you won me?”
“I didn’t buy you… the Saltwater Sisters did that.”
“Yeah. They did it for you.”
“Braxton.”
The name slipped out before she could stop it, carrying a softness and familiarity that felt far more intimate than Blaze.
Something shifted across his face the second he heard it.
The teasing faded. The heat remained. And suddenly the air between them felt heavier.
“It’s been a long time since you called me that,” he said quietly.
Johanna swallowed hard. “It’s your name.”
“I mean… hearing my name coming from you. It’s been a long time.”
Silence settled after that. Not awkward silence. Loaded silence. The kind filled with memories neither of them knew how to discuss safely yet.
The truck curved away from Main Street and followed the ocean road while the sky deepened into rich shades of lavender, peach, and fading gold. Water flashed between buildings in glittering strips while sea grass bent gently in the evening breeze.
Johanna folded her hands tightly together in her lap. This was exactly what she had feared.
Blaze being attractive wasn’t the problem.
The chemistry between them had always existed, humming beneath the surface like something alive and impossible to ignore.
What unsettled her was the familiarity between them.
The ease. One conversation with him had already started unlocking places inside her she’d spent years boarding shut.
Blaze turned into a private parking area tucked behind sea grass and lantern-lit pathways.
Johanna looked around in surprise. “Harbor & Wine?”
He parked the truck before glancing toward her. “You always wanted to come here.”
Her chest tightened instantly.
Because she had.
Years ago, they used to drive past the restaurant late at night after football games or beach bonfires, talking about the future like it belonged entirely to them.
One day we’ll go there, when we have money. One day when life finally starts.
Johanna looked away quickly. “You remember too much.”
“No,” Blaze said softly. “I remember the important things.”
That answer hit dangerously low. Before she could respond, Blaze stepped out and rounded the truck to open her door again. This time when he offered his hand, she hesitated only briefly before placing hers in his. Warmth spread instantly up her arm. His palm felt large, strong, and steady.
The contact lasted maybe two seconds too long. More than enough for her body to remember things her mind still fought hard against.
They walked slowly toward the restaurant while lanterns glowed along the winding pathway beside the dunes. Ocean waves rolled steadily nearby, and the salty breeze lifted the hem of Johanna’s dress while carrying scents of grilled seafood, jasmine, and sea air through the night.
Blaze stayed close without crowding her. Intentional and controlled. The difference between this version of Blaze and the boy she once loved unsettled her more than she expected.
Years ago, ambition and uncertainty battled constantly inside him. Blaze always seemed to be reaching for something. A bigger challenge, a bigger opportunity, a future he couldn't quite see yet.
Part of her had admired that drive. Another part had always feared it would eventually carry him somewhere she couldn't follow.
Now he carried himself with an entirely different kind of confidence. He moved through the world with a confidence she didn't remember from years ago, as though he'd finally stopped chasing every horizon and started paying attention to what was right in front of him.
At the entrance, Blaze paused before opening the door. Lantern light softened the hard lines of his face while ocean wind shifted through his short curls.
“For tonight,” he said gently, “can we not start at the ending?”
Johanna’s chest tightened painfully. “What does that mean?”
“It means we already know how things fell apart.” His eyes held hers steadily. “But before that, Jo, there was something good between us.”
Emotion burned unexpectedly behind her eyes.
She turned toward the ocean because looking directly at him suddenly felt impossible.
Blaze didn’t pressure her. Didn’t fill the silence trying to rescue the moment. He simply waited, which somehow felt worse.
Finally, Johanna nodded once. “One dinner.”
His smile appeared slowly then. Small and relieved.
“One dinner.”
Blaze opened the restaurant door, and Johanna stepped inside knowing one terrifying truth with complete clarity. He had not brought her here to impress her. He brought her here to remind her what it once felt like to be loved by him.
And the frightening part was that it was already working.