Page 3 of Booked Up with the Mountain Man Firefighter

MACK

“I’m just saying, if you put cheese on broccoli, the broccoli doesn’t get credit. The cheese is doing all the work.”

Drew shakes his head from across the kitchen table. “The broccoli is still there.”

“The broccoli is a vehicle. It’s a delivery system for cheese. That’s not nutrition, that’s engineering.”

Holt doesn’t look up from the incident log he’s reviewing at the end of the counter. “Mack.”

“Captain.”

“Eat your breakfast.”

I eat my breakfast. Scrambled eggs, hot sauce, toast with peanut butter. The station kitchen smells like coffee and the residual char from last night’s burnt popcorn that nobody has claimed responsibility for.

Drew is across from me, working through a plate of eggs and bacon. Dean is at the far end of the bay, crouched behind the engine running through a pump check. He’s quiet, methodical, and not looking for company. Every valve gets the same attention. Every gauge gets read twice. Dean doesn’t cut corners, and he doesn’t make noise about it.

I take another bite of toast, and my brain goes right back to where it’s been going all morning.

The bookstore.

Her laugh. The sound of it surprised her more than it surprised me. I watched it happen in real time—the way her whole face changed when she forgot to hold it back. She went from guarded and measured to wide open for about two seconds, and then she caught herself and put everything back where it was.

But I saw it.

And the book thing. I picked up that novel and read the first line like an idiot, and she came alive. Didn’t hesitate, didn’t soften it, just told me exactly what the book was about and why I was wrong.

Her eyes changed. Her voice changed. She leaned forward without realizing it.

Then I left. And I already knew, without looking back, that she was behind the counter again. The wall had gone right back up.

“You’re quiet,” Drew says.

“I’m eating.”

“You’re never quiet when you’re eating. Last Tuesday you gave us a five-minute breakdown of why gas station sushi is underrated.”

“It is underrated.”

“It’s a health hazard.”

“That’s what makes it exciting.” I push my plate back. “I went into the bookstore this morning.”

Drew raises an eyebrow. “The one in the Trading Post?”

“How many bookstores do you think Copper Peak has?”

“What’d you need at a bookstore?”

“Evidence. Dean thinks tomatoes are a vegetable.”

From the bay, Dean’s voice carries without volume. “They are a vegetable.”

“Botanically a fruit, Dean. I’m going to track down proof.”

“You have a phone,” Drew says.

He’s right. I do have a phone. I could have settled the tomato thing in ten seconds without leaving the station. But then I wouldn’t have heard Ellie correct me about a chef’s memoir with that look on her face—the one that said I was an idiot…and she meant it as a compliment.