Page 74 of The Firefighter's Fate

I take a step closer to him.

“I like it a lot.”

Connor takes a step toward me. We’re so close now.

“Really?” he whispers.

I bite my lip.

“I do. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Thank you for coming,” he says.

“Can I take a photo?” I ask softly.

This time I pull out my phone, but Connor quickly shakes his head.

“No modern technology, Ember. Please. Let it just be you and me. Together. Alone. Face to face. I’d like to get to know you without any distractions.”

I smile.

“I’d like that,” I reply. “I’d like that a lot.”

37

EMBER

I sit on the chair outside the cabin and watch the firefighter chop wood.

And, boy, does he know how to chop wood.

His biceps bulge and flex as he brings the axe down each time. His face is twisted into a serious complexion as he swings the weapon through the air. All his attention is on the task at hand. And do I mention he’s not wearing a shirt? That makes it all so perfect. I can’t keep my gaze away from that toned chest of his with all those muscles and those tempting tattoos and that overwhelming, masculine dominance.

He’s so skilled... so competent...

“Stop watching me, Ember.”

Connor doesn’t even have to glance in my direction to know that I’m staring at him. How can he not when my eyes are like beams aimed solely at him?

“I’m not watching you,” I lie meekly.

The burly man chuckles.

“You are, Ember. Stop it. You’re putting me off my game.”

“Look, I’m just trying to focus on the subject of my article. It’s serious business. I’m researching.”

“Sure, you are.”

I laugh, and then he laughs.

Connor drops his axe and puts his shirt back on. It’s very disappointing.

Ugh.

Then he heads toward the cabin.

“I’m going to make you dinner, Ember,” he says over his shoulder.

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