I’m mid-sweep when the front door creaks.
“Careful,” comes a voice. “There’s an unreasonably sexy firefighter on the premises.”
I blink through the haze and turn toward the voice. Beau Rhodes.
He’s carrying a tray with two coffees and a small paper bag. Tucked under one arm is my blue sweater—clean and folded.
“Levi told me you left this in the ambulance,” he says, handing it over. “I figured I’d return it properly. With bribes.”
I take the coffee gratefully. “You didn’t have to.”
“Sure, I did. These are cinnamon scones from Lorelai’s. And they’re still warm, so clearly, I deserve a medal.”
I smile despite myself. “Thanks.”
“What are you doing in here without a mask?” he asks, squinting toward the broken back wall. “Hang on.”
He jogs to his truck and returns with an N95 and a pair of gloves. He hands them over, then moves around the counter and eyes the damage like he’s sizing up a battlefield.
“Shift starts at three,” he says. “So I’ve got time. Let me help.”
I hesitate. “Beau…”
“Don’t worry. I won’t flirt.”
“You literally opened with a line.”
“A great one,” he points out, grinning. “But seriously. No weird intentions. Just don’t want you choking on soot alone.”
I nod, sliding the mask over my face. “Okay. Thank you.”
We work side by side for the next hour. He lifts the busted counter while I sweep up debris. At one point, he crouches low, his shirt riding up to reveal a strip of golden skin and toned abs that look as if they have been carved rather than built. My mouth goes dry.
He catches me looking.
Smirks.
“You sure you don’t want me to flirt?”
“I’m sure,” I say quickly. Too quickly.
He chuckles, but it’s not mocking. “Friends, then.”
“Friends.”
“Cool. Because I’m excellent at friendship. I bring snacks, and I look good sweaty.”
I snort. “Modesty. A lost art.”
“I’m trying to revive it—slowly.”
He tosses a splintered board into the trash pile and wipes his forehead. His scent wafts through the air again—honey and cinnamon, warm and spicy and just a little too rich for my current equilibrium.
My skin prickles.
I turn away. Try to focus on reorganizing the shelves beneath the coffee bar.
But he steps closer.
