Page 15 of Light My Fire

“Hell, yeah.”

Turning back to the steaks before they’re overdone and Luke “I want it practically mooing” Moody hands me my ass for ruining his dinner, I grab the tongs.

The slider door opens. “Hey, guys?”

It’s Jackson.

“Yeah?”

“The power just went out.”

“What?” Brooke’s head whips around and she peers at the suddenly dark house.

With our backs turned, we didn’t even notice the lack of light.

Jackson barely has the door cracked and his head is crammed between the frame and the slider, as if that still isn’t somehow letting a bunch of cold air into the cabin. “Yep. Flickered, went out, came back on for a hot second, then gone again. Does the fireplace work? Please tell me it’s gas.”

“It’s wood-burning.” She puts her hand on Jackson’s chest and pushes him back inside. “You’re letting all the heat out.”

This cabin is easily five thousand square feet. There’s no way a cabin this tricked out on an island in Minnesota doesn’t have a generator. The fact that the electricity came back on for a second tells me that. I like machinery and tinkering and I have a talent for it. I feel reasonably confident I can solve whatever the problem is.

But as I follow Brooke inside and shut the slider behind me, juggling the platter of steaks, I think better of fixing it immediately. There is something romantic as hell about a roaring fire, a snowstorm, and dinner by candlelight.

Plus, we’ll have to stay close to each other for heat. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do right now than get under a blanket with Brooke.

“Great. So this is how I die,” Jackson says, sounding incredibly unconcerned by that fact.

Luke snorts. “And why is that?”

“We have no heat. Brooke said it’s a wood-burning fireplace.”

“And Wyatt and I are firefighters. We know how to light a pile of wood.” Luke has the flashlight on his phone on and it’s providing a decent amount of light.

I set the platter on the kitchen island.

“We’re city guys. We don’t know how to survive. Our food is going to go bad. I better crack a beer while it’s still cold.” Jackson opens the fridge in the dark and rummages around, bottles clanking. Something falls on the floor but I can’t see what it is.

“Take all the beer out and the rest of the food and put it on the deck,” Luke tells him. “It will obviously stay cold out there.”

“Brooke, do you have any flashlights or candles here?” I ask her, turning my own phone flashlight on.

“They’re right over the refrigerator in that cabinet. I can’t reach it though.”

That makes me frown. What would have happened if Brooke had actually been here alone? The thought makes me agitated. I’m really fucking glad we got here early.

“Jackson, get the flashlights.”

“I’m saving the beer first,” he says, standing up with two six packs clutched against his chest. “Hang on.”

Luke gives a huff of impatience and retrieves two flashlights himself. He turns one on and hands it to Brooke. He keeps the other one, flicking the switch, and then turning his phone light off.

“Let me start a fire, then we can eat,” I say. “We don’t want these steaks to get cold.”

“Great idea,” Luke agrees. “We can eat at the coffee table in front of the fireplace.”

Brooke wanders away into the family room, setting her water down on the coffee table. Then she opens the fireplace flue and the glass door, efficiently beginning to lay a fire from the kindling in a basket on the hearth.

“Guess she’s got the fire,” I murmur to Luke, impressed.

---