Page 15

I cleared my throat. “Families are heading home. I should too.” I tried for a smile, but it wavered. “If I have a home to go back to.”

Something hard flickered across his expression. He pushed away from the truck, standing taller. “You will,” he said, sure as steel. “And if you don’t, you won’t face it alone.”

The words hit deeper than I expected. I swallowed, my throat tight. I had no support out here, so his words were especially impactful. “I know we… kissed, but you don’t really know me.”

“I know enough.” His beautiful eyes were steady and direct. “You didn’t walk away from strangers when it got hard. You stayed, even when you could’ve gone to another town or waited it out somewhere else. That tells me plenty.”

Heat rose up my neck. “And you? You’ve been carrying the weight of this whole town on your shoulders.”

His jaw tightened, and he shrugged. “That’s my job.”

“No.” I shook my head, heart pounding. “That’s who you are. Strong, steady, the one people look to when they don’t know what else to do. Even kittens trust you.”

That pulled a rough laugh from him, short but real. “You make me sound better than I am.”

“You’re exactly who you need to be,” I said softly.

The air between us tightened, humming with something unspoken but impossible to ignore. He stepped closer, close enough that I had to tilt my chin to keep his gaze.

“I shouldn’t—” he started, then stopped. His hand flexed at his side, like he was fighting himself. “I keep thinking about the other night, just talking to you in the dark. And kissing you last night. I don’t let people close. Not very often.”

I didn’t move back. The closeness was intoxicating. “Then why me?”

He exhaled, slow, rough. “Because I can’t imagine not letting you in.”

The words stole my breath. My pulse drummed in my ears, but I held his gaze. “Then don’t fight it.”

For a heartbeat, he didn’t move. Then his hand lifted, brushing a strand of hair back from my face, fingers trailing warm against my cheek. My eyes fluttered shut, and when his mouth covered mine, the world stilled.

The kiss was different from last night’s. It was deep, certain, and a little aggressive, like he’d finally reached his breaking point. Like he’d been denying himself for a while, but thought about it constantly. My hands curled into his shirt, holding on as a wave of arousal slammed through me. His arm slid around my waist, pulling me against him, solid and unyielding. I wasn’t tiny, but my softness fitted against his hardness like we were two parts of a whole.

When we finally broke apart, we stared at each other for a long moment. He seemed as struck crazy as I was. It startled a laugh out of us both. The sound was sharp, but it softened his face in a way I’d never seen before.

“That was just as good as last night,” he said, voice warm and low. “I thought it might have been a fluke because I was exhausted.”

I pressed my forehead to his chest, the steady thump of his heart grounding me. “I wasn’t exhausted, and I felt it.”

His arms tightened around me, like he didn’t want to let me go.

And standing there in the misty morning, I knew I didn’t want him to let me go. I was falling for this man.

9

The drive back to the cabin was thick with tension, the kind that hummed just under the surface. Jack’s hand rested steady on the wheel, veins shifting under sun-browned skin, every line of him strong even in lingering tiredness. The air was charged with sensual tension.

Desolation surrounded us, the further we got away from the station. My heart sank as I saw how much forest and debris was gone, the ashes still smoldering in places. The smoke burned my nose, even inside the truck. The beautiful green forest had been reduced to black sticks in wide swaths.

When he turned up my dirt lane, my heart climbed into my throat. We passed my car. It was sooty and covered with ash, but not burned. The trees around my yard were scarred black, branches stripped, but my little cabin still stood. Smoke stains ringed the roofline, yet the walls were intact. Tears filled my eyes. I hadn’t been here long, but it had become home to me. “It’s still here,” I whispered.

Jack parked, eyes scanning like he’d fought the fire off himself. “Told you it would be.”

I looked at him sharply. “You didn’t know that.”

His gray eyes pinned me, steady and unflinching. “No, maybe not.”

He strode to the porch and waited for me to unlock the door. “Let me check it out, make sure nothing is damaged.”

He ducked under the frame and disappeared into the dark depths.