Page 17 of Sizzling In the Mountains

I’m up early doing what I do best: Planning.

Over my coffee this morning, I decided that I will restore the old railway station to its former glory. I did some research and I found out that it wasn’t the building’s first fire. It had a massive fire sixty-three years ago and went through a major reconstruction, which makes me feel a bit better. My accident wasn’t the end of the building’s life. It’s just going to be one more chapter in a long illustrious history that will go on long after I’m gone. I’ll make sure of it.

I also found the top restoration guy in the area. He worked on restoring the Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris, so he’s really good. I called him and he said he’d come check it out with his crew. It’s not going to be cheap though.

But speaking of that, I have an idea that I think could work.

I take a deep breath and fix my jean jacket as I walk up to the firehouse. I’m wearing my favorite sundress along with it.

Even though I’ve been busy with all of this planning, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that hot, toe-curling kiss last night.

It was incredible. I get little shivers every time I think about James’ sexy lips on mine and those big warm arms wrapped around me. I don’t know what would have happened if that jerk hadn’t interrupted us. I wonder if we would have been able to stop ourselves or if I would have woken up next to him.

I take a deep breath, push those thoughts away, and open the door to the fire station. I still haven’t been inside this place even though I’ve been admiring it since I moved here. It’s an older red brick building with large white bricks framing the doors and windows. Two large garage doors are painted bright red and ENGINE COMPANY 38 is written in big steel letters above them.

The inside has an old vibe to it, but everything is modern. It’s very nice. I wouldn’t mind spending more time in here…

I walk up to the empty front desk as I look around at the big healthy plants and old black and white photos of all the past crews hanging on the brick walls. I spot the latest picture and my heart rate increases when I find James posing with his coworkers. He’s not smiling, but he looks smoldering hot. I think about taking a quick photo of it with my phone, but a deep grumbling noise behind the front desk stops me.

“Hello?” I say as I walk over. The two shiny firetrucks are visible through the large window behind the desk, but I don’t see anyone around.

The sound continues. It sounds like someone snoring.

I look over the desk and see a fat pug sound asleep on his back. He’s lying in his round bed with his paws in the air, snoring his head off.

No one comes to see me, so I build up some courage and head into the back. I follow the deep masculine voices.

Three of the guys are sitting around the table playing a card game—Doug, Mason, and the older handsome Chief who helped extinguish the fire yesterday. No James. I try to hide my disappointment.

“Hello,” I say shyly.

They all turn to me at once.

“Oh, hey, Victoria,” Mason says in a friendly tone. “You know how to play Exploding Kittens? We’re about to start a new game.”

“I’ve never played it,” I say as I walk over.

Doug leaps up and grabs an empty chair. He pulls it over beside his. “You can be on my team. I’ll teach you everything you need to know to win.”

“When was the last time you won?” Mason asks with a grin.

“I haven’t been getting any good cards,” Doug says, glaring at him. “You know that.”

“Oh, that’s it,” Mason says with a laugh. “It’s the cards’ fault.”

“What can we help you with?” the Chief asks with an easy smile.

“I think she’s looking for James,” Mason says as he shuffles the cards. “He’s upstairs taking a shower.”

“Actually, I have an idea for the firehouse,” I say, trying to keep the tantalizing image of James naked in the shower out of my mind. “Unfortunately, the insurance isn’t going to cover the full cost of the repairs to the library.”

Now that I’m here, I’m starting to rethink my idea. Is it stupid? Am I asking for too much? They already helped me put out the fire and now I’m asking them to help rebuild the building too?

I’m standing here, a little frozen.

“What’s your idea?” the Chief asks in an encouraging tone.

I reach into my bag and pull out my camera. “I took a couple of photography classes in college,” I tell them. “I was thinking maybe we could… make a firemen calendar… and sell it to raise money?”

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