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On the drive over, I was still shaky from the strange sensations that had almost overcome me at the fire. I could put it down to the excitement and danger of the situation, but it had felt different from the usual adrenaline. Something… more.
I shook my head free of my fanciful thoughts. I was allowing myself to be sucked into this town with its secrets, the most intriguing of which was Emmett Furbane. I wrestled with my conscience.
The line between my heart and my job had never been so blurred. Although Emmett was a suspect, my instincts told me he was not the arsonist. Unfortunately, professional duty demanded I treat him as a suspect until proven otherwise.
I tried to focus, but thoughts of Emmett kept intruding as I glanced around the cozy bar, taking in the warm lighting and soft murmur of conversation. Sitting in a quiet corner nook, half-hidden behind a screen of ivy, I inhaled the warm, rich, and slightly sweet aroma of malted grains. I breathed it in, willing myself to stay focused.
Emmett sounded surprised when I called him to take him up on his offer, but he immediately agreed to meet at the local bar, The Honey Den. I knew I should keep my distance, but a deep, primal instinct urged me forward, whispering there was more to this man than met the eye.
I was acting like a moth drawn to a flame, unable to resist the pull of his presence. My logical mind insisted on maintaining a professional distance from Emmett, but my traitorous heart yearned to close the gap, even as I risked getting burned.
Emmett's charm and sincerity had slid past my well-constructed defenses, but I couldn't afford to let my guard down. Not when my career and his freedom hung in the balance.
I shook my head, trying to clear the fog of emotion.
Guilt gnawed at my gut. I’d invited him here under false pretenses and at the behest of my boss. But I had to be honest with myself–the investigation wasn’t the only reason. I wanted to know more about Emmett Furbane.
By all accounts, the Furbane family was the lifeblood of Silverpaw Hollow. They managed a chain of pubs and breweries while also serving as park rangers. They were the backbone of the town, and the locals highly appreciated their contributions.
Emmett’s family was extensive. His mother was one of three sisters. She and her youngest sister had given birth to sons, resulting in maternal cousins scattered throughout the United States.
The Furbanes were known for looking after their extensive family and the townspeople. They went out of their way to help those in need. I had to consider all options, but they didn't seem like a family who would deliberately set fires. Why would they ruin the land they loved and that sustained them?
Emmett could be playing me, but my instincts said otherwise. His concern for this town and its people was genuine.
I wouldn’t lie to myself and pretend I wasn’t attracted to the eldest Furbane son, but I needed to proceed carefully until I uncovered the truth.
I reminded myself firmly that this was a meeting, not a date. I was here as a professional to get input from Emmett on the local forest topology and fire risks.
The folder on the table contained the maps and reports I'd prepared, proving this was a professional meeting.
Yep, completely professional. So why was my heart pounding and my stomach fluttering, knowing Emmett would soon walk through that door?
I checked my watch again. He would be here any minute. I took a slow breath, rehearsing how I would keep the conversation strictly business. No flirting, no straying into personal topics. This was about doing my job to the best of my ability, not indulging some silly infatuation.
As I scanned the room, my gaze landed on an old black-and-white photograph hanging on the wall. It showed a group of men standing in front of the Town Hall on Main Street, though the surroundings were different.
The men were dressed in old-fashioned clothing. In the center of the group, I recognized the distinctive Furbane features—the strong jaw, broad shoulders, and intense gaze. It seemed the Furbanes had been a part of Silverpaw Hollow for generations.
Right on cue, I spotted his tall frame weaving between the tables. The pendant lights caught the warm highlights in his chestnut hair and turned his golden-brown eyes molten.
“Hey Amber,” he said, his voice low and rumbling as he slid into the seat across from me. He was dressed casually in a flannel shirt and jeans that did little to conceal his muscular frame.
“Thanks for meeting me,” I began, immediately sliding the folder toward him, all business. Damnit, why are my hands shaking? “I wanted to get your take on potential trouble spots in the local forests. I could use your expertise to identify high-risk areas in the forest.”
Emmett's eyes glinted with humor even as he nodded. “Of course. Strictly professional,” he said, though his gaze held mine a beat too long.
“Well, I wouldn't want to waste your personal time.”
“For you, it would never be a waste,” Emmett replied smoothly.
I stared down at my menu, willing my face to cool. So much for not flirting.
“Can I at least get you a drink?” he asked, a smile playing around his lips.
Full, incredibly kissable lips, my heart sighed. And those eyes.
Nope, not going there, you big, mushy pushover, my mind replied. Pull yourself together. Reinforce defenses.
