Page 17 of Hot for the Mountain Man

"About the speech?" He gave a small shrug. "Less than I expected. Having you there helps."

We stepped through the doors, and I held my breath, seeing the space through fresh eyes. The transformation was complete—the delicate strands of light twinkled overhead, casting a magical glow over the assembled guests. The gradient backdrop shimmered, and candles flickered on every table, creating an atmosphere both elegant and otherworldly.

"Wow," Grant murmured beside me, his hand tightening slightly at my waist. "You did all this?"

Pride bloomed in my chest as I nodded. "With a lot of help, yes."

His eyes met mine, genuine admiration in their depths. "You're good at what you do, Peyton. Not just good—truly talented."

The compliment, so sincere and straightforward, meant more than any gushing praise. "Thank you," I said softly.

We made our way deeper into the room, where Hank spotted us and bustled over, resplendent in a slightly too-tight tuxedo.

"McAllister! You're here!" he exclaimed, pumping Grant's hand. "And Miss Chambers—you look stunning, my dear. The place is filling up fast. We're at capacity! Every ticket sold!"

"That's wonderful, Hank," I replied, genuinely pleased for him.

Grant's attention shifted suddenly to a couple across the room. "There's someone I want you to meet," he said, guiding me through the crowd.

We approached a tall, bearded, handsome man with windswept hair who stood with his arm around a petite woman with a tumble of dark curls.

"Ryder," Grant greeted the man with a nod. "Didn't expect to see you here. Thanks for coming.”

"Wouldn't miss it," the man replied with an easy grin. Plus, any excuse to get her dressed up." He squeezed the woman's shoulder affectionately, and she blushed prettily in response.

"Peyton, this is Ryder Hawke. He runs wilderness adventures out of Hope Peak, the next town over. And this is Tessa Voss, his girlfriend. She owns The Velvet Book."

"A bookstore?" I asked, shaking Tessa's hand.

She nodded, her smile warm. "Best little bookshop in Montana, if I do say so myself. You should stop by sometime."

"And this," Grant continued, his voice taking on a different tone that made my heart skip, "is Peyton Chambers. She designed everything you see tonight."

The pride in his voice as he introduced me sent a flutter through my stomach.

"Amazing work," Tessa said, looking around appreciatively. "I've been to events here before, and I barely recognized the place."

"It's clear how much the community supports the fire crew and their natural resources," I observed, noting the packed room. "It's heartwarming to see."

"Small towns," Ryder said with a shrug. "When it matters, people show up."

Our conversation was interrupted by Hank tapping a microphone at the front of the room. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you could please take your seats. Dinner will be served shortly, followed by our program."

Grant and I made our way to our assigned table near the front. Throughout the meal—a delicious selection of locally sourced fare—I found myself increasingly aware of Grant beside me. The brush of his arm against mine as he reached for his water glass. The way his knee occasionally touched mine under the table. The subtle scent of his aftershave mingling with the starched crispness of his uniform.

After dessert was served, Hank returned to the microphone to introduce the evening's speakers. First, Captain Dawson gave a brief overview of the department's work and needs. Then, with a proud smile, he introduced Grant.

As Grant rose from his seat, he gave my hand a quick squeeze—so brief I might have imagined it. But the gesture bolstered my confidence in him as he strode to the podium.

For a moment, he simply stood there, surveying the crowd. His gaze found mine, and I offered an encouraging smile. He took a deep breath and began.

"Three years ago, I lost my best friend and fellow smokejumper, Travis Beck, in a wildfire that should never have happened." His voice, deep and clear, carried throughout the hushed room. "A carelessly discarded cigarette during droughtconditions sparked a blaze that ultimately claimed his life and destroyed thousands of acres of forest."

The raw honesty in his opening caught the audience's attention immediately. He continued, weaving personal experience with practical prevention information, his voice growing more confident with each sentence. When he spoke of the need for additional resources and education, heads nodded throughout the room.

"Wildfires are a natural part of our ecosystem," he concluded, "but human-caused fires—the result of carelessness or ignorance—are preventable tragedies. Your support tonight helps ensure that firefighters have the tools they need, that our community has the knowledge to stay safe, and that Fire Mountain remains the beautiful landmark we all treasure." He paused, his gaze sweeping the room once more. "Thank you."

The applause was immediate and enthusiastic. Pride swelled in my chest as Grant returned to our table, accepting handshakes and backslaps along the way. When he finally slid back into his seat beside me, I couldn't resist leaning close.

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