Page 18 of Hot for the Mountain Man

"That was perfect," I whispered. "Travis would be proud."

Something flickered in his eyes—grief mingled with gratitude—before he nodded once, his hand finding mine under the table.

Hank returned to the microphone, practically bouncing with excitement. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm thrilled to announce that tonight's fundraiser has already broken all previous records! Your generosity will fund new equipment, expanded education programs, and critical forest maintenance." He beamed at Grant. "And I think we all owe a special thanks to Firefighter McAllister for his powerful words tonight."

Another round of applause filled the room as the lights dimmed slightly and music began to play. Couples rose, moving toward the dance floor that had been set up at one end of the room.

"Dance with me?" I asked Grant, half-expecting him to refuse.

To my surprise, he stood, offering his hand. "One dance," he said, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "Since you helped with the speech."

The dance floor was crowded, forcing us close together. Grant's hand settled at my waist, the other clasping mine as we began to sway to the music. Despite his earlier reluctance, he moved with unexpected grace.

"You're a good dancer," I observed, looking up at him.

"Basic training," he replied dryly. "Military precision, not artistic talent."

I laughed, relaxing into his arms. "Well, it's working for you."

As the music continued, the space between us gradually disappeared until I was pressed against his chest, my head tucked under his chin. His heartbeat thudded steadily against my cheek, his hand warm through the silk of my dress.

"Thank you," he murmured into my hair.

"For what?"

"The speech help. This." His hand tightened slightly at my waist. "All of it."

I tilted my head back to look at him, finding his eyes dark with emotion.

"You're welcome," I whispered.

The music changed to something faster, breaking the intimate moment. Grant stepped back slightly, though his hand remained at my waist. "Want to get some air?"

The night air was cool against my heated skin as we stepped onto the small patio behind the community center. Stars blanketed the clear sky, and the silhouette of Fire Mountain loomed dark against the horizon.

"Beautiful night," I observed, wrapping my arms around myself.

Grant shrugged out of his uniform jacket, draping it over my shoulders. The weight of it, still warm from his body, enveloped me in his scent.

"Thank you."

He nodded, moving to stand beside me at the railing. For a moment, we simply existed in comfortable silence, gazing at the starlit landscape.

"I'm glad you asked me to be your date tonight," I said finally.

Grant turned to face me, his expression serious in the dim light. "So am I."

Something in his tone made my pulse quicken. He leaned closer, one hand coming up to cup my cheek. My breath caught as his thumb traced a gentle path along my jawline.

"Peyton," he murmured, his voice rough with barely restrained desire.

I swayed toward him, drawn by the heat in his gaze. "Yes?"

"I want to kiss you." The blunt admission, delivered in that deep voice, sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine.

"Then do it," I whispered.

His lips met mine with gentle pressure that quickly deepened as I responded. The kiss was everything I'd imagined and more—tender yet passionate, controlled yet hungry. His hands slid to my waist, pulling me closer as mine found their way to his shoulders.

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