Chapter 2
Sadie
Iknew coming back to Devil’s Peak would mean seeing Levi Kane again.
I just didn’t prepare for the way he’d look at me like I was both a problem and a memory he’d never finished burning.
The firehouse smells the same—diesel, coffee, metal, smoke baked into concrete. But he doesn’t.
He’s bigger. Broader through the shoulders. His jaw sharper, stubble darker, a faint crease between his brows that wasn’t there when we were eighteen and invincible and stupid in love. He stands in the engine bay like he owns the building, like the mountain itself signed over its authority to him.
“Intern Marshall,” he says when I walk in.
Lieutenant Kane.
We trade titles like weapons.
But when he muttered “Hotshot” under his breath earlier, like it slips out of muscle memory, something in my chest folds in on itself.
Because that name was never professional.
That name was mine.
I tell myself I left back then because I needed more.
More than Friday night football games and diner coffee refills and whispers about who’d marry who before twenty-five. I needed scholarships and cities and to know if I could survive outside the shadow of my father’s fire chief badge. I needed an identity that wasn’t just “Levi’s girl.”
But standing in front of him now?
It feels like I left something unfinished. Like I packed my bags and forgot to take my own heart with me.
I’m halfway through reviewing equipment inventory when the church ladies invade.
You can hear them before you see them—heels clicking, voices layered in sugary authority.
“Oh, there he is!” Mrs. Dottie Henderson trills as she sweeps into the bay like she owns the place. Behind her trail three other women armed with clipboards and foil-covered casserole dishes.
Spring Fundraising Season has begun.
Which, in Devil’s Peak, is basically a competitive sport.
Levi stiffens beside me. He doesn’t look scared—he looks hunted.
“Lieutenant Kane,” Mrs. Dottie purrs, pressing a hand to his arm like she’s inspecting produce. “We were just discussing eligible bachelors for this year’s charity events.”
His jaw ticks.
“Ma’am,” he says evenly.
I bite my lip to keep from smiling.
She circles him slowly. “You are single, aren’t you?”
The crew scatters like cowards.
Axel disappears into the kitchen. Ash pretends to polish a tool with intense concentration. My father is nowhere to be found.
Levi stands there, steady and broad and very much cornered.
“Oh dear,” Mrs. Dottie continues, tapping her pen against her clipboard. “The widows at church will be delighted.”
I lean closer to Levi, lowering my voice. “Wow. You must feel like a hunk of manmeat.”
His eyes cut to me.
Dangerous.
“You think this is funny?” he murmurs.
“A little.”
Mrs. Dottie beams at me. “Sadie! Sweetheart! You just got back from college, didn’t you? Such a bright young woman.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say sweetly.
She pats my cheek like I’m still ten. “And still single?”
Levi’s head snaps toward me.
I fight the urge to grin.
“Very,” I say.
Mrs. Dottie nods approvingly. “Well! The Mountain Debutante Ball is coming up. We’ll need volunteers.”
Levi mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like a curse.
The women cluster around him again, discussing charity auctions, baseball games, bake sales, and a car wash event titled Firefighters & Foam that makes my eyebrows rise.
“You’ll be auctioned for dinner dates, of course,” Mrs. Dottie informs him brightly. “It’s for a good cause.”
His shoulders go rigid.
I step closer, brushing my elbow against his. He’s solid. Warm. Real.
“They’re going to sell you,” I whisper.
“I gathered,” he says through clenched teeth.
“You’ll fetch a good price.”
He looks down at me slowly. “Careful, Hotshot.”
The nickname lands like lightning.
I stop breathing for half a second.
He notices.
His gaze flicks to my mouth before snapping back up.
“Still can’t help yourself, huh?” I say lightly.
“Still can’t stay out of trouble,” he shoots back.
Mrs. Dottie claps her hands. “Wonderful! We’ll put you down for the baseball game, the car wash, the dance lesson night, and—oh!—the maybe even the kiss cam fundraiser if we find you a match before then!”
“The what?” Levi asks flatly.
“Oh, it’s adorable,” she says. “Couples only, of course.”
Couples.
I glance at him.
He looks like he’d rather run into a burning building.
And then something reckless sparks in my brain.
“Actually,” I say smoothly, stepping forward. “Lieutenant Kane won’t be available for bidding.”
Mrs. Dottie blinks. “Oh?”
“He’s taken.”
Levi’s head turns toward me so fast I almost laugh.
“I am?” he asks quietly.
I meet his eyes.
Bold.
Steady.
“Yes,” I say. “We’re getting back together.”
Silence drops over the bay.
Ash nearly drops a wrench.
Mrs. Dottie’s eyes widen with delighted scandal. “Together?”
“Rekindling the old flame,” I add before my courage fails.
Levi’s expression goes utterly still.
The church ladies’ eyebrows raise before Dottie turns to the newest recruit on the crew, “Well, Eli–what about you?”
I turn to Levi fully now, because if I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it without flinching.
“Spring Fundraising Season lasts three months,” I say under my breath. “You need a shield. I need to avoid being shoved onto a debutante stage. We fake date.”
Levi’s gaze burns into me. “Fake.”
“Public affection only,” I lower my voice another notch to make sure the women can’t hear, then begin ticking off rules on my fingers. “90 days. No real feelings. No revisiting ancient history. We survive charity season, the church ladies back off, and then we go back to normal.”
“Normal,” he repeats, low.
My pulse jumps. “Yep.”
He studies me in silence, eyes dark and assessing. “You think you can handle that?”
“I handled leaving,” I say before I can stop myself.
The words hang between us like smoke. His jaw tightens. “Different kind of fire.”
Mrs. Dottie returns with her clipboard and gaggle of lady friends. “Well! If you two are courting, we’ll need to update the newsletter.”
Levi doesn’t look away from me. “You’re serious?”
“Very.”
“You don’t want to be auctioned.”
“I do not.”
“And you think pretending to date me is safer?”
I shrug. “You’ve always been good at protecting me.”
The shift in his expression is subtle but seismic. He steps closer. Too close. “Careful,” he murmurs. “You’re flirting with something you already walked away from.”
My throat tightens, but I lift my chin. “It’s fake.”
His mouth curves slowly. “Sure it is.”
Mrs. Dottie claps again. “Oh, this is delightful! A second chance romance! The town will swoon.”
Levi finally tears his eyes from mine.
“We’re not a romance,” he says flatly.
“Speak for yourself. This one has always been so private, gets growly like a grizzly bear at just the hint of town gossip,” I pat him on the shoulder with condescending affection. Dottie chuckles and crosses a line through Levi’s name under the singles section on her clipboard.
And when Levi looks back at me, heat crackles between us like it never left.
“Rules,” he says quietly.
“I just gave them.”
“Say them again.”
I swallow, stepping out of Dottie’s earshot. “Public affection only.” His gaze drops to my lips. “No real feelings,” I continue. His hand flexes at his side. “No revisiting the past.” A muscle jumps in his jaw. “And no private lines crossed.”
He steps even closer. “Define private.”
I force a smirk. “Behind closed doors.”
He leans in until I can feel the heat radiating from his chest. His voice lowers so only I can hear.
“You always liked breaking rules.”
“And you always liked catching me.”
His hand extends suddenly. “Deal.”
I stare at it. His palm is broad, scarred, familiar. I place my hand in his. Electricity shoots through me.
It’s ridiculous how much I remember—the weight of his grip, the way his thumb presses against my knuckles like he’s memorizing them.
We shake. But he doesn’t let go.
“Public affection,” he says quietly.
“Right.”
He slides his arm around my waist.
In front of everyone.
My breath stutters.
Mrs. Dottie squeals.
“See?” Levi says smoothly. “Already working.”
His hand spans my lower back, firm, possessive without being crude. I should pull away. I don’t.
“You’re enjoying this,” I whisper.
“You started it.”
“Afraid you won’t get bid on?”
His mouth dips close to my ear. “Afraid you’ll forget this thing between us is fake?”
My pulse thunders. “I won’t forget.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me. “Sadie.”
He hasn’t said my name like that since I left. Not intern. Not Hotshot. Sadie.
“Yeah?” I manage.
“You don’t get to run this game,” he says softly. “If we’re doing this, I lead.”
My stomach flips.
“You think I can’t handle you?” I challenge.
His grip tightens slightly at my waist. Not painful. Not gentle either.
“Hotshot,” he murmurs. “I know you can’t.”
Heat floods my face. Behind us, Axel wolf-whistles. Mrs. Dottie beams like she just arranged a royal wedding.
Levi finally releases me, but his fingers trail deliberately down my side before letting go.
The message is clear. This may have started as a joke. But he doesn’t do anything halfway.
As the church ladies bustle away discussing centerpiece colors and fundraising spreadsheets, I turn to him.
“See?” I say lightly. “Problem solved.”
His eyes are unreadable. “For ninety days.”
“For ninety days.”
“And when it’s over?”
I hesitate for a fraction of a second. “We go back to normal.”
He studies me like he’s searching for a crack.
Then he nods once. “Fine.”
Ash wanders back over, grinning like a menace. “So… should we install that sprinkler system now, or are you two going to handle combustion on your own?”
Levi doesn’t look away from me when he answers. “We’ll handle it.”
My heartbeat refuses to settle. Because I know Levi Kane. And if he decides to play this game?
He doesn’t spark.
He scorches.