“Oh, no.” I drop my face into my hands.
He chuckles, the deep sound vibrating through me. “Relax, pumpkin. I thought it was cute.”
“Cute,” I mutter, sinking lower into the seat. “Just what every woman wants to hear.”
“What’s wrong with cute?” he says, starting the engine, his smile softening.
“I’m not a child.” I chew on the inside of my cheek as I watch him drive, the inked dragon tail peeking out from under his costume and curling around his wrist.
“You just wear kids’ pyjamas?” He chuckles. “What was it? Flying unicorns or were they cats?”
I’m grateful for the darkness in the cab because my cheeks are blazing hotter than the heater vents.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed. Cute makes me want to take care of you.”
I clear my throat, desperate to steer us somewhere safer. “So… do all firefighters moonlight as face-paint models, or was I just lucky tonight?”
He chuckles. “Depends. Usually I only volunteer for rescues. Burning buildings. Stranded kittens. Teachers dressed as vegetables.”
“Vegetable?” I splutter. “Pumpkins are technically classed as a fruit because they develop from the flower of the plant.”
His smirk widens. “See? You’re already teaching me something.”
I shake my head, hiding my smile. “Do you always flirt like this?”
He glances at me, blue eyes glinting under the passing streetlight. “Only with women dressed as snacks.”
My stomach flips, and I scramble for a distraction. “So, how’s Sienna settling in?”
Instantly his expression softens, pride warming hisvoice. “She loves your class. Talks about you all the time. Says you’re the prettiest teacher she’s ever had.”
My throat tightens. I force a laugh. “She’s six. Her opinion doesn’t count.”
“Counts to me. And I happen to agree with her.”
“What happened to her mom?” I blurt, but there was nothing on file, and before I let this flirting continue, I need to know why they separated. I need to protect my heart.
“Car accident.”
I bring my hand to my mouth with a gasp. “Drake, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I thought you’d left her back in the UK or something.”
“I did. She’s buried in my hometown, next to my parents.”
“Drake, I… I don’t know what to say. When?”
“Eighteen months ago now.” His smile no longer reaches his eyes, now sad with unshed tears. His blue irises as deep as the ocean. “This move has been good for both of us. A fresh start.” He lets out a sigh. “I’m tired of grieving, Em.”
The way he calls me Em sounds so endearing. The name my brother calls me and a name my parents used. I reach out and place my hand on his knee.
He places his large warm palm over mine and threads his thick fingers through mine, then brings my hand to his lips. “It’s time for me to live again.”
He turns onto my street. Last year’s Christmas lights hang from the roof of my bungalow, where I yanked them a few weeks ago.
Silence swells between us, filling up the truck. I fiddle with the stalk on my pumpkin hat, wishing my heart would stop thudding.
Drake pulls up on the sidewalk next to my front lawn and clears his throat. “Someone should sort out your lights.That’s a hazard, and with you, an accident waiting to happen.”
“Flint said he’d sort it out. But with organising the fundraiser, I think he forgot.”
