The table chatter carries on—Sienna telling a long story about a cat at school, Seraphina teasing Flint about his one speciality dish he cooks all the time, but it all blurs to background noise.
Because in this moment, it’s just Ember and me, caught in the smallest, most dangerous fire I’ve ever started as our fingers entwine. My heart thuds beneathmy ribs, but I can’t let go of her, not even to pick up my fork, because right now the only thing I’m hungry for is her.
Flint lifts his glass. “So, Ember,” he says, glancing at me with a glint of mischief, “still keeping dragon boy on his toes?”
Ember groans. “Please don’t call him that.”
Seraphina smirks into her Coke. “It fits.”
The whole table chuckles, even Sienna, who wiggles her shoulders like she’s in on the joke. Ember’s cheeks burn crimson, and I fight the urge to lean over and kiss the colour right off her skin.
Flint carves another slice of beef, his expression softening. “You know, when we were kids, Em used to climb up on the shed roof with a book and a bag of chips. Mom would shout herself hoarse trying to get her down.”
Ember covers her face with her hands. “Oh God, not this story again.”
“She said she was waiting for a dragon to come and rescue her.” Flint’s grin deepens as his eyes flick towards me. “Guess she wasn’t wrong after all.”
“Yeah. It’s only taken forty years.”
Sienna gasps. “Miss Sparks, are you really that old?”
Ember groans into her hands, muttering, “Yes, I’m old, but not as old as the grumpy chief here.”
The table erupts. Seraphina cackles, but I don’t laugh. Because that story hit me square in the chest. She’s been waiting for a dragon. And here I am.
Sienna chews on a piece of meat. “Daddy, can I tell them about Mummy on the roof?”
My throat tightens instantly, but before I can speak, Flint nods gently. “Go ahead, kiddo.”
“Mummy climbed out of my bedroom window onto our roof to hang Christmas lights, and Daddy had to getthe fire engine ladder to get her down.” She beams, then falters when she looks up at me.
My eyes sting, and I blink hard, but it’s too late.
Her little mouth presses shut. She stares at her plate. “Sorry, Daddy.”
My chest caves. “Bug…” My voice cracks, but I manage a smile. “Never apologise for talking about your mum. She’d want us to remember her.”
The silence that follows crackles like a log on a fire. Ember strokes Sienna’s hair, her voice soft. “Your mum sounds very brave.”
“She sounds like someone else I know,” Seraphina points her fork at Ember with a small laugh.
Ember turns to me. “So youdojust go around rescuing damsels from roofs and mischievous kittens.”
I can’t stop the small chuckle from rumbling out of me. “What else are dragons good for?”
Ember’s laugh is soft, but it tugs deep in my chest. Across the table, Flint shakes his head, amusement pulling at his mouth. For once, he’s not the chief, not the hard-edged man who orders us into burning buildings. He’s just a brother, teasing his sister, entertaining a young woman as she smirks over the rim of her glass.
This isn’t awkward at all. Well, as long as Sienna doesn’t ask any more embarrassing questions, I think this dinner will go without a hitch.
Flint wipes his mouth with his napkin, smirking.
“Course, dragon boy here isn’t always so smooth. Ask him about the time he turned the hose on himself instead of the fire.”
Sienna perks up, sitting straighter in her seat. “Daddy, did you wet yourself?”
I groan. “It was my first week. Wrong valve.”
Ember can’t contain her smile. “I wish I’d seen that.”
