Chapter 6
Slow Burn to Inferno
Ember
The morning sun warms my face as I stroll through Peachwood Grove’s town square, my camera capturing how light dances through the weeping willows, casting intricate shadows on the cobblestone paths.
Each click of the digital shutter feels like documenting my fresh start, preserving these moments of tranquility and beauty.
The soft rustling of leaves, the distant chatter of townsfolk, and the scent of fresh baked goods wafting from Sweetheart Scones & Stories create a symphony that makes my heart swell with a sense of belonging and hope.
As I pause to frame another shot, I can’t help but smile, imagining the stories these pictures will tell and the new chapters they’ll represent in my life.
I walk into Sweetheart’s, where I spy Nic and her friend Brittany. They wave me over to their corner table. The scent of coffee wraps around me like a hug as I bring over my cup and sit with them.
“These photos are stunning,” Nic says, scrolling through my camera. “You’ve got such an eye for detail. This is why you’re so great at event planning.”
“Speaking of details,” Brittany leans forward, “how are the fundraiser plans coming along? Nic told me a little about it, and it sounds amazing.”
I bite my lip. “It’s been amazing. For the first time since Marcus, I feel... free. Creative. Like I can breathe again.”
“That’s because you’re doing what you love,” Nic squeezes my hand. “Without someone trying to change your vision and steal money from you.”
“Ugh, that sounds awful, Ember,” Brittany says. “I had an ex-husband like that in Atlanta. He ruined the city for me. Honestly, I don’t miss the hustle and bustle.”
I spy the gorgeous antique wedding ring on her finger and nod toward it. “Looks like maybe you found a partner here?”
Nic smiles while Brittany gushes over her husband, Holt, the chef at Sunset Grille. “For more events, you should meet Holt. He has an upscale restaurant on the side of the mountain a county over.”
Nic pipes up, “Absolutely, you should.”
“I’d love to.” I contemplate her comment about ‘more events.’ I could build something more here. The application I submitted to the global hotel chain seems unlikely to lead to anything since it’s been almost a month.
The bell above the door chimes, and Ryan walks in. His eyes find mine, and his smile makes my heart skip.
“Ladies,” he nods to everyone before turning to me. “Got a minute? I was thinking about the vendor needs for the fundraiser.”
I follow him to the counter where the owner, Callie is arranging fresh pastries. “So, I talked to my friend at the Willow Tree Café. They’re interested in catering.”
“Really?” I pull out my phone and type in my planning notebook app. “That would be perfect for the VIP section.”
“VIP section?” His eyebrows rise as he steals a piece of scone from my plate.
“Hey!” I playfully swat his hand. “And yes, we could sell special passes to include a private viewing area for the demonstrations, premium food options...”
“You never stop thinking, do you?” His eyes crinkle at the corners.
“Can’t help it.” I tap my phone against my chin. “Like right now, I’m planning how to get revenge for my stolen bite of scone.”
He laughs, deep and genuine. “Worth the risk.” Ryan leans down and kisses my cheek.
“You’re not forgiven.” I say, smirking.
“How about you come with me back to the station and get a feel for it?” he asks.
“I’d love to.”
I say goodbye to Nic and Brittany while grabbing my bag and leave with Ryan.
I lean against the doorframe of Station One’s kitchen, watching Ryan demonstrate proper equipment checks to Holden. The easy rhythm of their interaction, peppered with good-natured ribbing, brings a smile to my face.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Ryan calls out, catching my eye.
“What thing?”
“Making mental notes. I can see the checklists forming in your head.”
I smirk because he’s caught me red-handed.
Romeo snorts from his spot at the table. “She’s probably planning where to reorganize next. Watch out, Cap, she’ll have your office color-coded by next week.”
“Actually,” I tap my iPad, “I have ideas.”
Ryan crosses the room, peering over my shoulder. “Of course you do. Want to see how we run this place? We’ve got a drill in fifteen.”
“Really?” My heart jumps at the chance to be in more of his world.
“Come on, I’ll show you the ropes. Just don’t rearrange my entire station while you’re watching.”
I follow him through the bay, soaking in the controlled chaos as the crew preps for their drill.
How they move around each other, anticipating needs before they’re voiced, speaks volumes about their bond.
Ryan explained the lingo—they call the station “the house,” the team “the crew.” But those are only words.
What I’m seeing is family. What I’m standing in is home.
Ryan’s way of sharing with me and his introspection is hot.
I don’t understand how someone this handsome and intelligent is single.
“This is incredible,” I murmur, watching Holden and Blake run through their gear checks in perfect sync.
Ryan’s hand finds the small of my back. “Wait until you watch us in big action.”
Damn. The suggestive tone of those words has my mind wandering to intimate scenarios between us behind closed doors back at his house.
Down, girl, down.
The drill unfolds like a choreographed dance, each firefighter knowing their role.
Ryan’s voice rings clear and confident, directing his crew with a natural authority that quickens my pulse and sparks some not-so-innocent thoughts of him commanding me in the bedroom.
I begrudgingly shake my head at the thoughts of his hands and lips on me.
Blake and Romeo take the lead in running the firehose line, and behind them, I watch Holden wrapping up the line in heavy loops. The others I’ve met, Chris, John, and Tristan, are mirror images of each task. They all could be in a county firefighter calendar, and it would outsell any NYFD calendar.
“So,” he says afterward, both of us sharing a laugh as Romeo dramatically reenacts Holden’s stumble during the drill, “dinner tonight my place? I promise not to serve anything that requires a blowtorch.”
“I’d love to, since I am staying there.” The words tumble out easily.
The moment he turns away, I grab my phone and text: Nic! Call me ASAP! I need something sexy, dinner and more with Ryan tonight!
My phone buzzes seconds after sending the text. Nic’s excitement radiates through the speaker before I say hello.
“Tell me everything! When? Where? What are you wearing?”
I duck into an empty office at the station. “Tonight, his place of course. And oh god, I didn’t pack anything lust-worthy.”
“Ember, breathe.” Nic’s laugh echoes through the phone. “You could wear a paper bag and Ryan would still look at you like you hung the moon. But since you asked...”
“I didn’t ask—”
“Wear something comfortable. Though...” Her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “You might want to consider wearing something lacy and inspiring, if you know what I mean.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “You read my mind!”
“Preparation is key. Isn’t that your event planner motto?”
I peek out the office door to make sure no one’s within earshot. “Pretty sure my motto wasn’t meant to apply to underwear selection.”
“Everything’s an event if you plan it right,” Nic sing-songs. “Oh god, I’m starting to sound like my sister Izzie. Damn, hormones.”
“Want to help me shop?”
“Already grabbing my keys.”
“Perfect see you soon.”