Page 26 of Hot Knot Summer
“The solo retreat should help,” he says with understanding.
“Hopefully. No distractions, just me and the inevitable fictional heartbreak I have to cause.” I sigh dramatically. “Instead, I got an actual fire. The universe has a twisted sense of irony.”
“Maybe it’s research,” he suggests, a smile playing on his lips. “Nothing like real-life experience for authenticity.”
“If I include a cabin fire in my book now, critics will call ittoo convenientorunrealistic,” I say, making air quotes. “Fiction has to make more sense than reality.”
“Is that why you write fantasy? More control over the rules?”
The question surprises me with its insight. “Partly. Also because I grew up escaping into those worlds when real life got too...” I trail off, suddenly aware I’m revealing more than I intended.
“Too much?” he offers quietly.
Our gazes meet briefly, and I have the unsettling feeling he sees more than I want him to.
“Something like that,” I murmur, turning to look out the window.
We fall into a surprisingly comfortable silence for a few moments. I catch myself inhaling deeply, trying to separate the lingering smoke smell from my clothes from his natural scent. Then I realize what I’m doing and wrinkle my nose.
“God, I really do stink,” I mutter.
“It’s not that bad,” he says unconvincingly.
“You’re a terrible liar.” I laugh despite myself. “I smell like I’ve been hanging out in a chimney.”
“We have facilities at the station,” he says casually. “Showers, washing machines. You’re welcome to use them if you need to freshen up.”
“I’m good,” I say automatically, though the thought of clean clothes and washing away the smoke smell is incredibly tempting. “I’m sure I’ll find a place soon. It can’t be that hard.”
“In Whispering Grove? During the summer festival season?” He raises an eyebrow. “There’s a reason we had to convert the station’s old storage room into extra bunks. The population triples this time of year.”
“Great,” I sigh. “So I’m homeless, suspected of arson, and smell like a campfire. This vacation is officially a disaster of epic proportions.”
“Could be worse,” he offers.
“How, exactly?”
“You could be trapped in a car with someone who doesn’t appreciate sarcasm.”
I burst out laughing. He joins me, and the sound of his deep laugh does strange things to my insides. For a brief moment, I forget about the disaster my life hasbecome. It feels good, too good, as though I’m connecting with him on a level I never reached with Chad, despite trying.
“Seriously, though,” I say, sobering. “Do you think I could actually be blamed for the fire? Because I swear, I didn’t do anything to cause it.”
His expression turns serious. “We’ll figure out what happened. Between my team and the police, we’ll find the cause.”
“How long will that take?”
“Hard to say. Town’s running at capacity, so both departments are stretched thin. Could be days or weeks.”
“Weeks?” I groan. “What am I supposed to do in a town where everyone thinks I’m an arsonist and there’s nowhere to stay?”
“Not everyone thinks that.” His voice is soft but certain. “And we’ll figure something out about a place for you to stay.”
“We?” I echo.
“Force of habit.” He shrugs. “I’m used to looking out for people.”
“Is that an Alpha thing or a firefighter thing?”
