Stranded with the Grumpy Fire Captain
The fire captain just gave me a safety briefing: touch him again, and he won't stop. I have never wanted to play with fire more. Twelve firefighters to photograph. I only see one. Jack Beckett: shoulders built for carrying people out of fires, rough hands, and a growl that does something indecent to me. He catches me on the dock and holds me like I'm already his. He tucks his little girl in — a man that big, that gentle — and my heart forgets the deadline. Then I overhear him tell his crew I'm nothing. Just the photographer who leaves Monday. He's lying. Now a storm has us stranded at his cabin, his daughter asleep down the hall. Tonight I'm crossing that room and making him say it to my face. He won't manage a word. Because Monday I still leave — and it will break his heart right after it shatters mine.