Chapter 10
10
EMBER
I find myself walking into Crystal River’s fire station holding my breath so hard it feels like my lungs are about to burst. I’m not normally nervous, but I certainly am now. It seems like so much has been said about and anticipated of Connor Penmayne over the last few days that now, with the very high chance of finally meeting the man, I kinda feel petrified.
Get your shit together, Ember. You’re a professional, so act like it.
Okay, so there’s no Connor Penmayne in the front reception area, but there is another firefighter. He wears the blue uniform, with the Crystal River Fire Department logo plastered over the front and back of it, marking him pretty obviously as one of Connor’s colleagues. He looks up at me from behind the sole desk with friendly eyes.
“Hey,” he says. “What can I do for you today?”
“Hello, I’m Ember.”
“I’m Eric. Nice to meet you. How can I help?”
“I think you can help me, Eric. I’m looking for someone.”
“Someone missing in the community?” the firefighter asks.
“I’m looking for Connor Penmayne.”
The man raises his eyebrows.
“You’re looking for Connor?” he asks.
“Yep.”
His gaze takes me in. Up and down. Up and down.
“You?”
“Yep.”
“What about?” he questions in slight disbelief.
I smile.
“Personal reasons. Is he around? Can I see him?”
“Not many people come snooping around here looking for Connor,” Eric remarks slowly. He’s handsome, in a clean kind of way. Crewcut brown hair. Late twenties. I spot a wedding ring on his finger. “People tend to try to keep away from him.”
“I guess that makes me special, then,” I reply cheekily.
Another firefighter walks in from the main entrance behind me. I stop to turn and look.
This guy is tall. Very tall. Broad-shouldered. He’s got hazel eyes and a rough short beard. He’s wearing the firefighter uniform with deliciously rolled-up sleeves revealing whole forearms inked with tattoos.
Even with the facial hair and the different colored eyes, he looks like Spencer Penmayne.
He looks like Waylen Penmayne.
It’s Connor. I guarantee it.
And... he’s kinda... incredibly good-looking.
Oh, Jesus.
“Here he is,” Eric says, smirking at me and then at our intruder. “ Connor .”
The Penmayne wanders up to us, scanning me up and down quizzically kinda like Eric did, but with a whole lotta cold disregard.
“Who are you?” he asks me darkly. His face is impenetrable to read. His beard makes him seem so very tough. His tall, muscular presence sends a chill through my body.
I bet he could rip me apart easily with those thick tattooed arms of his...
I offer out a cheery hand for him to shake.
“I’m Ember Mortensen,” I announce in a cheery manner.
“She was asking for you, Connor,” Eric says. “Specifically, you .”
Great. That’s going to be a good start. Thanks, Eric.
The gruff man doesn’t accept my handshake. He seems unmoved by my sunshine demeanor. He’s eyeing me like I’m a suspicious package that might explode at any given moment.
“Why are you asking for me, Ember Mortensen?”
His voice is deep. Unemotive. Forceful.
Okay...
I might as well come clean. I can tell there’s no point lying or trying to squirm around with this man - he’ll find me out in an instant, I know. I can spot the Penmayne intelligence hidden in his eyes.
“I’m a journalist,” I say. “And I would like to ask you some questions. If that’s possible.”
A groan escapes Connor’s lips.
“I don’t speak to journalists.”
Time to butter him up.
His initial refusal doesn’t faze me. I’ve encountered this many a time. I’m good at negotiation.
“I want to hear your story,” I say.
“Bullshit. You’ve just admitted you’re a journalist. You’re not after my story. You’re simply after your next paycheck.”
Connor crosses his burly arms. He towers over me. His large biceps are tight against his sleeves.
I hold my ground.
“Well, I’m not like other ones...”
I want to keep going with my spiel, but Connor immediately cuts me off with a bark.
“You simply want to know all about the Penmaynes and my relationship with them, right?”
Shit.
“Well... I...”
“Is that true?” he asks. “You’re after the juicy gossip of what’s gone on between my family and me, aren’t you?”
“Well...”
“Is that true, Ember Mortensen?”
“No...”
“You’re just another hungry leech, here to cause trouble...”
“That’s not who...”
“Just here for a quick buck and to ruin lives.”
“I’m not...”
“How about you stick whatever you’re writing up your uptight ass...”
“Connor...”
RING!
There’s a sudden alarm that blares throughout the entire building. Along with the pressure I’m feeling from the burly firefighter in front of me, it makes me jump.
I was so desperately involved in trying to persuade the man that I’m not a leech...
I bet the alarm is a signal to alert the firefighters to a new job.
It certainly seems that way when both Eric and Connor react nonchalantly to it. They don’t jump out of my bones like I do. Instead, Eric calmly turns around and walks into the back of the fire station, and Connor remains impassive.
“I have to go,” Connor growls at me. “Good luck with whatever you’re doing. I hope I never see you again.”
And then he’s gone too, following Eric through that back door.
He said I’m here to ruin lives.
He wants me to stick my article up my ass.
He seems like the kind of man who won’t budge. On anything - let alone an out-of-town journalist with her job on the line.
Oh shit. This really is going to be harder than I thought.