Page 73 of Ashes of the Past
The kiss is slow at first, tentative. But then, something shifts. Her fingers curl into my hair, and I deepen the kiss, pulling her flush against me. She melts into me, and damn, it’s everything. Every unspoken promise, every emotion we’ve been holding back, is pouring into this moment.
My entire body is screaming in protest, but I don’t care. I just need to kiss her. We don’t have to do anything else; I know my limits. I press her back against the desk, my hands sliding down her waist, gripping her hips as I kiss her like I’ve been starving for this. Because I have. She moans softly, and the sound shoots straight through me, making me desperate for more.
Her hands roam over my chest and my shoulders, pulling me closer. She’s so gentle with it, like she can feel me tense when she finds a tender spot. I slide my hand under her shirt, feeling the warmth of her skin and the way she shivers under my touch. I want to lose myself in her, in this moment.
Then, there’s a sharp knock on the door.
We freeze, breathing hard.
“Jack,” John’s voice comes through the door. “The adjuster’s here.”
Brynn’s eyes go wide, and she pushes against my chest, trying to compose herself. I take a deep breath, resting my forehead against hers for a second before stepping back and running a hand through my hair.
“Be right there,” I call out, my voice rough.
Brynn straightens her shirt, her cheeks flushed, and I smirk slightly, reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “This isn’t over.”
She exhales a shaky laugh. “No, it’s not.”
I give her one last lingering look before heading to the door, my body still humming from the feel of her. But as much as I want to stay wrapped up in her, I know that I need to be out there with John for this visit.
I open the door and hurry out before John can take a look inside. He leads me out of the house to where the adjuster is waiting for us.
The adjuster, a tall, thin man in a crisp navy suit that looks out of place here, straightens his tie as we approach. His sharp eyes flick between us and the remains of the structure like he’s already forming a judgment.
“I’m Neil Hastings with Riverbend Insurance. I’ll be handling the assessment of your claim.”
John shakes the man’s hand, his expression unreadable. “Appreciate you coming out so quickly.”
“Of course,” Hastings replies. He pulls a notepad from his leather folio and flips it open. “I’ve already taken a look around. Do you have any pictures of inside the barn? You’re claiming that there was equipment in there?”
“No, I don’t think so. I can ask my daughter,” John says. “Is there anything else that you need?”
“Why don’t we start with the basics? Can you walk me through what happened?”
John takes a slow breath. “We don’t know much. Nick was doing a last check before heading in for the night when he saw someone toss a lit bottle into the barn. It only took a matter of seconds before it engulfed. He alerted everyone he could to get help. By the time they got the animals out and the fire department showed up, there wasn’t much they could do. The barn was gone.”
Hastings hums as he scribbles something down. “And you have no idea who started the fire?”
John’s jaw tenses. “No. The sheriff is looking into a suspect, but that’s all we know.”
Hastings looks up, his expression unreadable. “Any electrical issues in the barn? Frayed wiring? Overloaded circuits?”
“No.”
“Any space heaters or other sources of open flame inside?”
John shakes his head. “Nothing like that.”
“The fire marshal already gave you his report, Mr. Hastings. The fire happened almost a week ago. If there were concerns, you should have been here on Sunday,” I interject. “There was an accelerant thrown into the barn. I have the proof.”
Hastings taps his pen against his notepad, then flips to another page. “And you’re sure this Nick person saw someone throw something in, and he wasn’t the one doing so?”
“He’s been with the ranch for decades. He wouldn’t do this.”
“So you’re saying he’s extremely loyal to you, Mr. Castings?” Hastings asks quickly.
John’s hands clench at his sides. “You suggesting something, Mr. Hastings?”
