Page 10 of Curvy Girl and the Firefighter Chief

"True, but I've heard your team talking about you. They respect you. That doesn't come from just a name or a title. That comes from being a good leader."

Her mention of my team makes me smile. "You've met them already?"

"They stopped by earlier to check on me," she says with a soft laugh. "They seem very... enthusiastic."

Damn it. The whole station knows I spent the night at the hospital. They'll either demand answers or, worse, never let me hear the end of it. I can already hear Max's teasing comments and see Damon's knowing looks.

"They all seem really nice," Stella continues, "though one of them was a bit... cold."

"Kane," I say immediately. "He can come across that way, but there's a reason for it. Military service changed him and made him more reserved. But he's one of the best men I know. Would walk through fire for any of us – literally has, actually."

She nods thoughtfully. "I don't doubt it." There's a pause before she asks, "What do your father and grandfather think of you now? As Chief?"

I clasp my hands behind my head, leaning back slightly. The question hits somewhere tender, somewhere I usually keep locked away.

"They're both gone, actually."

"Oh, Luke, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"It's fine," I interrupt gently.

Why am I even talking about this? She's practically a stranger, someone I pulled from a fire less than twenty-four hours ago. She should be resting, not playing therapist to my emotional baggage. Yet something about her makes me want to keep talking, sharing, and getting closer.

"I hope they at least passed peacefully," she says softly.

I shake my head. "Grandpa died in a fire. Dad made it to seventy, but his body just... gave out. This job ages you faster than most. Takes its toll."

"Doesn't that worry you?"

Taking a deep breath, I consider my answer.

"It used to. But I've made peace with it. This life comes with certain perks and certain... disadvantages. The aches, the risks – they're part of the package. Besides," I add with a shrug, "I'm not in the field as much these days. Too much paperwork keeping me chained to my desk."

"You don't sound thrilled about that," she teases.

I force a smile, but it probably comes out more like a grimace. "I'm a man of action. Sitting behind a desk while my team risks their lives? It's the hardest part of being Chief."

"Well," she says, her voice suddenly soft and intimate, "I guess it's lucky we got to meet when we did then."

I look at her – really look at her. Her eyes are gentle, her lips slightly parted, and something in my chest tightens almost painfully.

"Maybe it was luck," I hear myself say. "Maybe it was fate."

Her cheeks flush pink, and I suddenly realize how close we've gotten, how easy it would be to lean forward and—

I stand up abruptly.

"I should go check on the kitchen. Make sure Danny hasn't started another small fire trying to make dinner."

She looks startled by my sudden movement but only nods. "Of course."

At the door, I pause, looking back at her. She's sitting cross-legged on the bed, my station's shirt slipping off one shoulder, looking like she belongs here. Like she's always belonged here.

I force myself to turn away and walk out, closing the door behind me. Leaning against it, I take a deep breath.

What the hell am I doing? She's vulnerable, recovering from trauma, and I'm what – developing feelings? Taking advantage of her gratitude?

But as I head downstairs, I can't shake the feeling that something significant just happened in that room. Something that might change everything despite my best efforts to maintain emotional distance.

---