“At least the store was closed,” Rosie said. “I would have hated if any customers were injured.”
“I don’t wantanyoneinjured. If Bryce is hurt, I don’t knowwhat I’ll do.” Regret and fear battled inside her. Why had she pushed him away?
Her mother gave her a careful look, and Emma knew she had revealed far too much about her feelings for the man. What did it matter, especially if something had happened to him?
She picked up her pace. She had to know that he was all right.
She was in love with him.
As she raced toward the scene, the truth of it seemed to flash through her head with every strobe of the rescue vehicle lights.
She was in love with Bryce Kendall.
With his humor, with his strength, with his goodness. She was in love with the kindness with which he treated her daughter, with the energy and attention to detail he brought to the renovation as he worked so hard to bring life back to the bookstore and especially with the dignity and tenderness he always offered her.
Bryce knew her past yet he still treated her like someone deserving of honor and respect. And love.
She wasn’t sure how it happened, especially when she had fought so hard against it, but she could no longer dispute the solid truth. She was in love with him. And if he was safe, she planned to tell him.
She ran unerringly toward the ambulance, where paramedics were working on a person sitting on the back bumper. It was Bryce, she saw, as vast relief flooded her like those fire hoses attacking the flames.
He was sitting upright, speaking with the paramedics. His features were serious, unsmiling and covered in soot, but he was alive.
“Bryce!”
She rushed toward him. Without thinking, she threw her arms around him.
He was here.
He was here and alive and alert, talking to the paramedics.
A vast sense of relief surged through her. Only then did she realize how very terrified she had been that he had been seriously injured.
He hugged her, and she listened to his heartbeat, feeling each beat against her ear. He smelled of smoke and burned paper, with perhaps a hint of singed hair, but she didn’t care.
“I was so scared. We saw the fire trucks coming this way and then the ambulance. Grandma said she heard on the scanner that one person had been injured. I knew it had to be you. Are you all right?”
Bryce looked stunned at Emma’s reaction and her obvious concern for him. He blinked, seemingly at a loss for words before responding.
“I’m okay. Smoke inhalation.” His voice sounded raspy, gruff. “I stayed too long trying to put it out with the fire extinguisher after I called in the fire. I’m so sorry about the bookstore, Emma. I don’t know exactly what happened. I was working on the shelving units when I thought I smelled smoke coming from behind the wall in the office. I was trying to locate it when there was a small explosion and smoke started filling the room. I tried to contain it, but it spread too quickly. They’re thinking it was electrical.”
He coughed, still looking shaken by the experience.
“You’re burned.” She took in the white bandage on his hand and felt her knees buckle.
“I’m okay. I got too close to the flames when I was trying to put it out. I’ll be all right. I’m afraid the bookstore will not.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Emma said.
“The only thing that matters is that no one was hurt,” her mother said as she joined them. “All that work you did to renovate, though. Do you think they can save any of it?”
“I hope so,” Bryce answered. “The sprinklers came on like they’re supposed to but I’m pretty sure the water probably ruined most of the books. Whatever the sprinklers didn’t ruin, the fire hoses probably did. I’m so sorry. You’ve worked so hard the past month to turn things around. I wanted you to succeed here, Emma. I wanted everything to be perfect for you.”
Her heart ached with love for him. “We’ll rebuild,” she said. “We can do it together.”
Her mother looked doubtful. “Maybe at this point, we think about cutting our losses and walking away. Since the day I bought it, The Rainy Day Bookshop has been a struggling bookstore and has barely turned a profit. Maybe we should stop throwing good money after bad. We could sell the building once and for all.”
“No way,” Emma said. “You love this place.”
