Page 5 of Love in the Time of Wildfires

Due to their last interaction, he eyed them with suspicion. Logan had left their previous conversation with the sense that she hadn’t liked him very much. It didn’t matter, as the feeling was mutual. “Why?”

“Well.” She shifted her weight under his scrutiny. “Because it feels like we started off on the wrong foot and, even though you were a giant jerk, I wasn’t exactly much better. I thought maybe we could start over. Also, I want to sincerely thank you for helping me with the sink. And who doesn’t like a sweet treat in their day?”

Logan was somewhat taken aback by her bluntness. Who the hell was this woman? For a person who always held himself in control, even in the most dangerous situations, he didn’t like how his body got all tense and tingly at the mere sight of her.

Her perfect smile lit her face, rounding her rosy cheeks—one side harboring two tiny freckles like wayward stars. Her dark eyes glittered with a natural spark of charisma, like she knew she could have the whole world bend to her will without lifting a finger. Though he knew River wasn’t some innocent, wide-eyed kid, she still had the appearance of a person who hadn’t had her soul beaten out. But her being a few years his junior didn’t remove the vastness between them, as if jadedness and his rough occupation added to the chasm. It was only a matter of time before the spark in those big dark eyes dulled and she would be just as hardened as the rest of them.

Perhaps Logan was growing soft because he found himself not wanting to be around for her eventual transition to cynic. It was one more reason not to be friends.

“That’s okay. I don’t need any cookies. Let’s just forget it.” Logan could go back to hibernating in his cave, and she could return to sprinkling fairy dust somewhere else. He wasn’t a big sweets fan anyway—this applied both to snacks and people.

Her face dropped. “Oh . . . I mean, it’s okay. I just thought—well, I made them because I felt bad and . . .”

God dammit. He was serious about the whole eyes dulling thing, but he didn’t mean right this second and because of him. With a heavy sigh, he stuck out his hand. “Okay. Fine.”

Her brightness reemerged as she handed the container over, slipping one side of her short wavy hair behind an ear. The strands were dark, the ends brushing the tops of her shoulders. He had no idea hair could get that glossy and—he needed to stop noticing things about her. Logan forced his focus to the cookies, taking one.

“You’re a wildland firefighter, right?”

“How did you know that?” Logan stuffed half of the cookie into his mouth before realizing his mistake, causing him to freeze. He weighed if he should immediately spit the cookie out or put himself in some kind of health danger by swallowing a bite containing a large amount of sodium. Neither of these options sounded ideal. Logan didn’t even know why he was protecting her feelings. For all he knew, she’d done this on purpose to get back at him for lecturing her during their last interaction, as some kind of cookie-shaped revenge.

If this was the case, River was a good actress, as she didn’t seem to notice his discomfort. “I was talking to Mary, and she told me.”

“Who?” he asked with his mouth full because he’d yet to make a decision. He’d fought countless fires, but this was the most pressure he’d ever faced in his life. Maybe it was those big dark eyes of hers or those two little freckles that kept him from wanting to inform her that she had produced the worst cookies to have ever entered his mouth.

“Mary. She lives below you. Downstairs. She’s lived here for like ten years.”

Logan vaguely knew of the older woman River referred to. He thought maybe she had a daughter or something but he hadn’t talked to either one beyond a gruff hello since moving in two years ago. How she knew anything about him was a mystery.

“Anyway, she and her niece, Lucy, are friends with the building manager, and they gave me a secret number I can call in case I run into another emergency. They seem to know everything about everyone who lives here, but they’re very nice and even gave me some tea one of their relatives sells at the farmer’s market that’s held in the American Legion lot. Have you ever tried it?”

The conversation had already gone on for too long, and he couldn’t exactly drop any hints with a mouthful of salt, so he did the painful thing by swallowing it whole. “No, I actually have to go—”

“But you are a firefighter, right?”

Logan looked at her cookie offering in a new light. Was she some unhinged woman who had a thing for firefighters—a type of badge bunny or fire groupie who was about to fling herself at him? If he were at all interested, River throwing herself at him wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world. It was tempting, even if those soft, plump lips were attached to someone very annoying who made terrible cookies. Perhaps the sweetness of a kiss would help soothe the salt coating the inside of his dehydrated mouth. He might be converted into a sweets guy after all.

Although, realistically, Logan wasn’t interested in getting involved with anyone, even someone as pretty as River—especially if that someone had a fetish for firefighters. The reality of the occupation quickly burned all fantasies into dust. He considered stuffing another salty cookie into his mouth to avoid replying to her question.

River didn’t wait to get the answer, as though she assumed the rumor was true. “The reason I’m asking, and I hope this doesn’t make me come off as weird . . .”

Too late. He absentmindedly pushed the second half of the cookie into his mouth, realizing his mistake a second time. Logan didn’t know how she could make things weirder, but he had a feeling she’d succeed, preparing himself for a proposition.

The petite woman leaned nearer as if about to convey something secretive, close enough to see her eyes weren’t completely black but had flecks of the darkest, warmest brown threaded throughout. He tried not to cough the salted crumbs choking his throat all over her after catching himself glancing at her cleavage.

Logan should take a page from her book and slam the door in her face, refusing to get involved with someone who hankered for fireman dick. Her eyelids lowered, and he noticed how perfectly full the lashes were as they fanned across her cheeks. Against his better judgment, he leaned closer, holding his breath to find out where this was going.

“When you’ve been out in the field, you haven’t seen any foxes, have you?”

He didn’t know what he expected her to say, but it wasn’t that. Was she still propositioning him?

Logan swallowed the mouthful of cookie again. “Foxes?” Was this some new euphemism? He didn’t get it and, to be honest, he was a tad disappointed.

“I told you I was a wildlife behaviorist. I just started working at the Sierra Nevada Nature Museum. Have you ever been?”

“No.” Logan didn’t go much of anywhere these days if it wasn’t for food or work.

“Oh, it’s a really lovely place. I’m so happy I landed the job there. I work with some of the animals. I’m in training right now to do their animal education presentations. But the animal I’m really interested in is the Sierra Nevada red fox—”