“Wasn’t planning on it,” I mutter.
Another low huff of amusement, then the metallic slide of something being pulled from the fire truck. A ladder clanks softly against the trunk below.
“You secure?” he asks.
“I’m… emotionally unstable but physically attached to a branch, yes.”
“All right,” he says. “Let’s get you down.”
I finally force myself to look.
Big mistake.
The man standing below is tall—tall—with broad shoulders beneath a navy Swift Mountain Fire & Rescue jacket. His jaw is strong, his scruff is unfairly attractive, and his expression carries the distinct look of someone who is going to remember this moment for the rest of his life.
He meets my gaze with steady, patient eyes.
“Go ahead and step toward the ladder,” he says gently, like he’s coaxing a trembling animal.
I shift a little. The branch complains loudly.
His voice tightens. “Slowly.”
“Is this the part where you tell me you do this all the time?” I ask, inching closer.
“Nope.” He climbs the ladder a few rungs. “Most people don’t climb trees for fun.”
“It wasn’t for fun,” I say. “It was for art.”
He blinks up at me. “Right.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” He pats a rung. “Just… step here.”
I lower my foot, heart pounding as I test the rung. He’s close enough now that I can smell faint smoke on his jacket—warm, woodsy, strangely comforting. When I wobble, his hand lifts instinctively, lightly brushing my hip to steady me.
A spark shoots straight through me. Literally. What the hell?
“Static,” he says before I can ask. “Happens all the time in the cold.”
“Hm.” I can’t tell if that’s true or if he’s just being polite about my apparent ability to electrocute myself.
Back on solid ground, my knees nearly give out. I straighten quickly, attempting dignity.
He folds the ladder, watching me with that unreadable firefighter expression—half assessing for injury, half trying not to smile.
“Thank you,” I say, brushing bark off my coat. “Really. Sorry you had to… witness that.”
“All part of the job, ma’am.”
I narrow my eyes. “You can stop calling me ma’am.”
“What should I call you, then?”
“Emma.”
He nods once. “Kendrick.”
