Page 41 of The Firefighter's Fate

But. Still...

I need to explain my position one last time to my crew, it seems.

“She’s only interested in writing some fake article about me that’s full of bias and misinformation,” I reply. “She can flutter her eyes and be cute, but she’s after one thing only, and that’s to progress her career with a hit piece on me and my family.”

“She is nice, Connor,” Eric says. “Surely she’s not just after that, yeah?”

“You don’t understand what it’s like being a Penmayne,” I say.

“Oh, boohoo,” Eric replies. “Just give her a chance. Talk to her, it ain’t going to kill you.”

I growl and sit down. There’s no point in arguing any further with my friend. He doesn’t understand.

I really don’t want to get involved with my family again, and Ember is walking proof of the influence of my father. He would love it if I allowed her to write an article about me.

Well, I’m not budging on this.

But I can’t stop thinking about Ember... her eyes... her skin... the way she makes me soften... the way my cock seems to respond so goddamn positively to her sight...

Things are getting dangerous.

My life is getting unsteady. All because of a woman.

And that is truly terrifying.

20

EMBER

I’m walking across the main park of Crystal River, away from the fire station and that tall, muscular, stoic man who refuses to properly speak to me, when my phone buzzes with an incoming call. I pass the children’s playground in the park and pick up the phone.

I can immediately tell from the high-pitched hello that it’s Paisley from back home. She’s after the gossip, presumably. I’ve not heard from her since I’ve arrived.

“How’s the town, Ember?” the big-shot lawyer asks, breezing over her greeting.

“Small.”

“Oh, I’m betting you don’t like that. Not a bit.”

I chortle.

“It’s not in my top ten must-see destinations, that’s for sure, but it is kinda cute,” I reply, sitting down on a nearby bench that faces the playground. “Very small town American.”

“So it’s not New York City?”

“Nope. There are considerably fewer subway systems here.”

My friend snorts.

“How’s this guy you’re having to talk to?” she asks me. “How’s the big bad Penmayne?”

I groan.

“It’s like trying to talk to a brick wall.”

“That bad, huh?”

“That bad. But I’m working on him. Using my magic.”

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