Her Firefighter’s Song (Station 11, #8)

She walked into my bar looking for oblivion. I gave her a Shirley Temple instead. Teague Moran doesn’t do relationships.

She has her bar, her tattoos, her punk records, and a life she built on purpose. She definitely doesn’t do twenty-two-year-old firefighter recruits with bright smiles and zero chill.

Zoe Kimball just graduated the academy — and got assigned to the wrong fire station. She’s heartbroken, she’s stubborn, and she just sat down at Teague’s bar and asked to be destroyed.

She got ginger ale and a punk history lesson instead. Then she came back. And back. And back. Teague doesn’t let people in. Zoe doesn’t know how to stay out.

What starts as a Shirley Temple becomes late-night texts, a first kiss after closing, and a love that builds the way the best songs do — louder each time, impossible to ignore.