“That’s what she does,” Nic chimes in proudly.
I sit back, watching Ember detail more of her plans. This isn’t simple event planning—it’s strategic. She’s balancing community engagement with operational necessities and making it look effortless.
As Ember and Nic gather their things to leave, Uncle Jimmy starts walking with them and asks about her event planningbusiness she left in Atlanta, but she smoothly changes the subject. Something protective stirs in my chest.
“Well,” Uncle Jimmy says kindly, “their loss is our gain. These boys could use someone with your eye for detail for this fundraiser. I was so happy Nic said she’d help us out this year. Lord knows they can’t match their own socks without help.”
“I heard that,” I call out. “And I’ll have you know, uniform socks are hard to screw up; I matched my socks perfectly today.”
“Did you, though?” Ember asks. “Because I couldn’t help but notice earlier...”
I look down, and her laughter fills the station. Uncle Jimmy joins in, clapping.
Romeo grabs my arm and pulls me behind Engine One while Uncle Jimmy escorts them out.
“Man, where’d you find her?” Romeo’s grin stretches wide. “She’s got the whole fundraiser mapped out better than we ever could. Even got contingencies for weather and emergency responses. Also, she is beautiful and Blake said she’s staying at your house? Bro. Where did you find her?”
I can’t help but smile, watching through the bay window as Ember animatedly discusses something with Uncle Jimmy. “Found her, in a wrecked car against a tree. Don’t act like Jiffy didn’t tell the whole house.”
“Only you would turn a rescue into a date.” Romeo shakes his head. “Better lock her down quick. A woman like that? Organized, smart, gorgeous? She won’t stay single long in this town. If you don’t step up, Mrs. Havers will be all over her with a matchmaking opportunity for someone else.”
“It’s been one date,” I protest, but my eyes track Ember as she walks to Nic’s car. The morning sun catches her hair, turning it golden red, resembling the color of her name.
“Yeah, one date, you fought a kitchen fire together, and she jumped right in to help. Blake told me about the AzaleaInn. Then she shows up here with plans that could double our fundraising from last year.” Romeo crosses his arms. “Face it, Cap. She’s perfect for you. Don’t fuck this up.”
My mind’s already working out ways to rearrange the firehouse rotations to free up more time with her. Though I hesitate, not wanting to add into Romeo’s hours—especially with little Leo at home.
“Do you care if I switch our schedule up some?” I ask.
“No sweat—I could use the extra shifts. Got a growing boy who burns through diapers, if you know what I mean. Pretty sure the Chief’s already juggling the calendar.”
“I owe you one, Romeo,” I say, heading toward my office.
His response follows me down the hall. “Yeah, you do.”
Chapter 6
Slow Burn to Inferno
Ember
The morning sun warms my face as I stroll through Peachwood Grove’s town square, my camera capturing how light dances through the weeping willows, casting intricate shadows on the cobblestone paths. Each click of the digital shutter feels like documenting my fresh start, preserving these moments of tranquility and beauty. The soft rustling of leaves, the distant chatter of townsfolk, and the scent of fresh baked goods wafting from Sweetheart Scones & Stories create a symphony that makes my heart swell with a sense of belonging and hope. As I pause to frame another shot, I can’t help but smile, imagining the stories these pictures will tell and the new chapters they’ll represent in my life.
I walk into Sweetheart’s, where I spy Nic and her friend Brittany. They wave me over to their corner table. The scent of coffee wraps around me like a hug as I bring over my cup and sit with them.
“These photos are stunning,” Nic says, scrolling through my camera. “You’ve got such an eye for detail. This is why you’re so great at event planning.”
“Speaking of details,” Brittany leans forward, “how are the fundraiser plans coming along? Nic told me a little about it, and it sounds amazing.”
I bite my lip. “It’s been amazing. For the first time since Marcus, I feel... free. Creative. Like I can breathe again.”
“That’s because you’re doing what you love,” Nic squeezes my hand. “Without someone trying to change your vision and steal money from you.”
“Ugh, that sounds awful, Ember,” Brittany says. “I had an ex-husband like that in Atlanta. He ruined the city for me. Honestly, I don’t miss the hustle and bustle.”
I spy the gorgeous antique wedding ring on her finger and nod toward it. “Looks like maybe you found a partner here?”
Nic smiles while Brittany gushes over her husband, Holt, the chef at Sunset Grille. “For more events, you should meet Holt. He has an upscale restaurant on the side of the mountain a county over.”
