She feels damn good.
Perfect, in fact. Like she was made to be in my arms.
"It wasn't about his belief in you, sweetheart." I shouldn't call her that, but it comes out on its own, and there's no point taking it back. "It was about him wanting more for you. For you to chase the life you wanted away from here."
I'm easing my hands down her back in what I hope is a soothing motion, forcing myself not to hold her too tight or let my palms drop too far below her waist. She's all warm, soft curves against me, and I have this insane urge to do this forever. Just stand here, comforting this beautiful woman that's been on my mind too much since I first caught a glimpse of her.
"But I've always loved it here." She protests, staring up at me, and there's no hiding the sheen of tears in her brown eyes. "The people are nice; they take care of each other. And it's so serene. I always feel lighter when I come back. I always have."
I know the feeling. It's why I'm here. "He told me that this place was too small for you. For the dreams you had. And frankly, fighting fires, especially forest fires like the ones we get here, well, that's dangerous. I know you turned in the required training plan to keep the volunteer fire department open. Even got a list of raw recruits willing to sign up. But the training itself is dangerous, much less the work itself. That's what he was worried about."
"I can do this." This time her words are more sure, and I can feel the strength returning to her as she steadies against me. Part of me is happy to see her recovering from this blow quickly, but the selfish side of my brain, and body, liked how she trusted me to support her. Let me hold her.
"I know you can. But there are risks. A lot of them. He didn't want you in danger. And frankly, neither do I."
She steps away and I fight back the instant desire to reach for her and pull her close again. "Well, neither of you get to tell me what to do. And if I'm the only one willing to step up, then that's what I'll do. This town needs a fire department. One active and trained. Otherwise, everything people have built out there will die. You know it's true. The county won't let us have these holiday events that draw in so much traffic if we don't have a capable, trained firefighting team."
I think back to the stream of people that were already starting to clog the streets. In my head, it wouldn't be so bad to send them all packing. Leave me and this place I've grown to love as it used to be.
Except that's the problem. I love this place. And the people here.
They need the income for their families. To keep their businesses open.
Build their own futures.
Her chin tips up, a stubborn tilt I instantly recognize as inherited from the man I knew. I also can't mistake the light of victory that sparks to life in her eyes when I don't argue with her.
Because she's right.
She's won.
And I'm in so much trouble.
8
LYDIA
The next day, Brand is outside the house at exactly the time he said he'd be. It's ridiculously early and I wish I could crawl back into my warm bed. But I'm determined to do exactly what I told him I would. He'd accepted it, finally, and barked out a plan to teach me what I needed to know. Forestry, risk identification and finally, how to actually fight fire.
I don't expect him to come to the door, and I'm pulling on my coat and gloves, hurrying through the ritual because I don't want to give him any excuse that might make him change his mind. Because even if I didn't say it to him, he was right. I needed his help.
Like every small town, people talk, and plenty of people had talked about the big man I'm about to spend the day with. About his military career, how he'd become a firefighter when he returned to civilian life, and how he'd hidden his big, broody, handsome self up on the ridge and glowered gorgeously at everyone. He had the knowledge and skills this town needed. There was no doubt about it.
And I needed him to teach me what he knew.
I open the door and dash out, crashing into a hard wall of chest and abs that shouldn't already be standing on the porch. Brand grunts at the impact, then his arms settle around me, steadying me so I don't fall. It's nice, just like it was yesterday. And even though I'm embarrassed to have collided with him, I can't deny it feels good to have a reason to touch him again.
"Good morning to you, too." His words are gruff, but I'm sure I can hear a hint of humor beneath them.
"Sorry," I say, ducking my head to hide my flushed cheeks. "I didn't expect you to come to the door."
He rocks back on his heels. "What did you think I'd do. Sit in my truck? Honk the horn until you came out?"
I don't know what to say to that and he grins when it's clear I'm speechless. He adds to that in the next breath.
"Sweetheart, when I'm picking up a woman, there's no way I'm going to honk the horn to let her know I'm waiting. Say what you want, but I will treat my girl right."
He doesn't seem to catch what he just said, but I don't miss it. Not one little bit. His girl?
