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“Me too, Mom.”
She gives one more squeeze and leans back. “I’m going to bake him my pumpkin bars. Everyone loves those. It’s the least I can do.”
I laugh and then cough. My mom thinks the best way to someone’s heart is through their stomach.
She’s not wrong about the pumpkin bars, though.
“You’re going to come home with us, Emmy,” Mom says. “Captain Donaho said we can take you since the paramedics have cleared you and you don’t need to go to the hospital. Sounds like they got you out before it got too bad.”
She slips her arm around mine. “Besides, I don’t think it’s good for you to sit here and watch.”
I scoot off the stretcher, still wrapped in the blanket and look down at my feet. “I only have one slipper.”
“I’m sure I have some you can borrow,” Mom says. “It’s going to be okay. You’re safe, and that’s all that matters.”
She’s right. I could’ve died in that fire. And if it wasn’t for Owen, I might’ve. I’d been so paralyzed when I realized what was happening that if he hadn’t barged in when he did, the outcome of this whole night would’ve looked very different.
Owen Larrabee saved me.
Now all I have to do is not fall in love with him.
Again.
Chapter Three
Owen
I have a hard time sleeping when I get back to the firehouse.
Not that I’m a great sleeper to begin with.
Lots on my mind.
I lay in the bunk and stare at the ceiling.
I didn’t realize until tonight that, when I moved back home, I would know the people in the houses and businesses we were called to.
When I close my eyes to try to sleep, I replay the whole night in my head. I can still picture the flames coming out of the small craftsman as we pulled up.
Someone said, “That’s Emmy’s house.”
Something inside me snapped.
“Emmy Smart?” I asked.
Jace nodded. “Book shop owner. She was a couple of years behind us in school.”
“Yeah,” I spotted the smoke coming from the second story. “I remember her.”
Jace jumped out of the truck. “Really? Surprising. She was kind of a wallflower.”
Not around me she wasn’t.
Emmy Smart.
Not the kind of girl who should get under my skin, but for some reason, I can’t stop thinking about her house and. . .her.
What if I hadn’t gotten there in time?
