Page 9 of Nanny for the Firefighter

No music career. No supportive boyfriend. Just pain and tears and fear.

Getting away from Jai was by far the first wise decision I’d made in a long time, but that bandaid had hardly come off clean. My hair was a testament to that.

And the years of zero communication with my brother and mother.

It’s peak summer hiking season in Red Lodge now, and as we drive slowly through the tourist-laden streets, I remember all my young summers here.

Custer Gallatin National Forest was right next to us, and being brave enough to swim in the lakes was a right of passage.

Hudson, Mason, and I had all gone together, this terrible trio of silly kids getting into trouble.

God, I miss those days so damn much.

“Well, it looks like theywerewaiting for you.”

I look up at Mason’s words, seeing Hudson standing in the lawn, and I sigh. “Jesus. Great.”

“You’ll be fine,” Mason adds, and I look over at him.

He’s not looking at me, though, just staring straight ahead through the dash. Grabbing my wallet, I reach for the handle, ready to get my suitcase from the back seat of Mason’s truck.

“Thanks for the ride, Mason.”

My voice is quiet, far from the perky confidence he probably remembers. But I haven’t been that girl in a long while.

I lean forward, putting my weight into the door as I push it open, but then Mason’s hand snags my other wrist, and I’m forced to stop.

Turning, I look back at him with my brows up to my hairline. I’m about to ask what he wants when I see his expression.

Mason’s brows are down over his eyes, worried together and making a deep crease between them.

It halts my words—the look intense and focused entirely on me—and my heartbeat stutters.

He’s changed so much, older with touches of silver at his temples, but he’s still quite possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“I have so many questions, Bridget.” His voice is low, and Mason’s eyes drop to where he’s holding my wrist. “You…I didn’t think you were coming back.”

I have to force myself to swallow, my throat tight and aching as I restrain the sob that wants to break free.

“I know. Me either.”

Mason looks back up at me, his eyes so dark with confusion and worry that I can taste it.

“Why did you—no. Don’t answer that. I just…yeah. I’m glad that I could give you a lift, Bridget. It’s…good to see an oldfriendback in town.”

The emphasis on the word “friend” chokes me, and I hear what he’s saying without words.

His life moved on without me. It had to. No part of me is mad at Mason for that, but every fiber of my being is disappointed.

Because this is my fault.

I shouldn’t have left. I never should have lefthim.

“You too, Mason. I, umm, I’ll see you around, I guess. And really,” I lower my chin so that I can meet his eyes all the more, “thank you. You’re a good man.”

At that, he scoffs, letting go of my wrist and shaking his head. “I’m nothing special, Songbird. Let’s get your bag.”

Mason jerks his chin toward the back, getting out of his truck and going for my bag in the back.

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