Page 1 of My Three Hometown Firefighters
Prologue
GRAYSON
TWO YEARS AGO
The bubbles popagainst my tongue as I sip my club soda because like hell was I going to drink more alcohol this weekend. I consumed more over the last seventy-two hours than I probably have in the last seven years combined.
At thirty-three, I can confidently say I cannot hold my liquor like I used to. I woke up every morning feeling like my head was being run over by a bulldozer, so club soda it is.
I groan, resting my head on my hand.What a fucking day.Not only was I unable to find a direct flight from Boston to Denver, but now my connecting flight is delayed.
And one glance out the window onto the tarmac shows me it’s probably going to be canceled. The ice clinging to everything is getting thicker by the minute.
So, an airport bar in Nashville with peanuts as their only dinner offering is where I find myself.
On the television over the bar, the newscasters are talking about the storm and how much worse it’s panning out to be.
No shit. Lucky fucking me for picking to connect through Nashville and not Dallas.
Sensing someone moving onto the seat beside me, I resist the urge to growl at them in hopes that they will scurry away.
No. The general public doesn’t need to be terrorized by my bad mood right now.
I’m frozen in place, though, by a flurry of long red hair when I turn to see who’s taking the barstool beside mine.It’s the woman from the plane.
She walked by me on her way to her seat on the flight here from Boston, and I thought my jaw was going to hit the floor. She’s fucking gorgeous.
She grumbles under her breath about the “goddamn plane” and this “goddamn weather” as she situates herself in on the stool with her carry on slung over the back of the seat. She leans forward, her forehead smacking the wooden bar top.
“Fuck,” she groans. Pulling her head back up, she rubs at the sore spot with her hand.
Her eyes tentatively glance my way, but I don’t think she’s really seeing me. “I didn’t mean to do it that hard, “ she mumbles quietly.
“Are you okay?” I ask, trying not to smile because even in her apparent distressed state, she’s adorable and sexy as hell.
Never really knew a woman could be both at the same time.
Her head swivels toward me, and I’m met with two pools of deep green that seem to have no end in sight. Her breath hitches in her throat.
She blinks several times. “Yeah. Just a crappy day.”
I nod, giving her a small smile. “Are you connecting to Denver, too?”
“Supposed to,” she grumbles, reaching into her purse.
“Can I get you a drink?”
She glances at me, clearly trying to figure out my motives for offering.
“It’s the least I can do, since we’re both stuck here right now.”
She stares at me for another moment before shrugging. “Okay.”
When the bartender comes over, she orders a glass of white wine that I tell him to put on my tab.
“So, why were you in Boston?” I ask. She drags in a slow, deep breath, like she’s preparing herself for what she’s going to say.
“It was supposed to be a romantic weekend with my boyfriend. I ended up dumping him instead because he couldn’t keep his eyes off every woman within a ten-mile radius.”
