Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
“Earth to Flint.” Liam’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I tear my gaze away to find him standing with Ridge, Hudson, Grady, and the rest of the crew. They’re grinning like a pack of wolves, clearly up to no good.
“Don’t start,” I warn, my tone gruff.
Hudson chuckles, clapping me on the shoulder. “Too late. You’re the man of the hour, and your ‘pretty distraction’ over there has got you looking downright cheerful.”
“Cheerful?” I scoff. “Must be the lighting.”
Zane joins in, leaning on the table beside me. “Nah, it’s her. We all see it. Hell, you haven’t scowled once tonight.”
“You sure about that?” I mutter, taking a slow sip of my beer, but my brother and friends aren’t buying it.
Grady grins. “Don’t fight it, man. You’ve gone soft, and we’re here for it.”
I roll my eyes, but even I can’t deny the truth in their teasing. It’s her. She’s the reason I’m here tonight instead of holed up in my cabin. The reason I don’t mind the noise, the crowd, the eyes on me. She’s the reason I feel something close to contentment for the first time in years.
Slate smirks, raising his beer. “To Flint finally finding someone who can put up with his grumpiness.”
The others laugh, clinking their bottles together, and I shake my head, trying to hide my smile. Before I can come up with a retort, Juniper walks up, her gaze flicking between me and the group with a mix of amusement and curiosity.
“What’s so funny?” she asks, her voice light and teasing.
Hudson grins. “Just congratulating Flint on his newfound humanity.”
“Humanity?” She raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching. “That’s a bold claim.”
“Hey,” I grumble, shooting Hudson a glare. “I’m standing right here.”
Juniper laughs, the sound warm and infectious, and I can’t help the way my chest tightens. She has no idea how she affects me, how she’s managed to burrow under my skin in a way no one else ever has.
“You’re lucky I like you,” I mutter, my voice low enough that only she can hear. Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second, and then she smiles, soft and genuine.
“Good thing I like you too,” she says, her voice matching my tone.
Before I can respond, someone calls her name from across the square, and she excuses herself, leaving me staring after her like some lovesick fool.
“She’s got you whipped,” Liam says, smirking. “I know it when I see it, Callie did the same to me.”
I don’t bother denying it.
As the night wears on, the mayor steps up to the makeshift stage, microphone in hand. He talks about the bravery of the firefighters, the resilience of the town, and the importance of community. The crowd cheers and claps, their pride palpable, but my focus is on Juniper, who’s standing near the front, her face lit with admiration.
When the mayor calls me up to say a few words, I freeze. Public speaking isn’t my thing, and they all know it. But Juniper turns, her gaze meeting mine, and the encouragement in her eyes propels me forward.
I step onto the stage, the microphone feeling awkward in my hand. The crowd falls silent, waiting, and for a moment, I consider keeping it short and sweet. But then I glance at Juniper again, and the words come unbidden.
“I’m not much for speeches,” I begin, my voice steady despite the nerves simmering under the surface. “But tonight isn’t about me. It’s about the people who make this place what it is. The firefighters, the volunteers, the community that comes together when it matters most.”
The crowd cheers, but I’m not done. My gaze finds Juniper again, and the rest of the world fades away.
“There’s someone here tonight who’s taught me more about what it means to fight for something than I ever thought possible,” I continue, my voice softening. “She’s the reason I wake up every day ready to fight for this place.”
The crowd erupts into cheers and whistles, but all I see is Juniper, her hand pressed to her mouth, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She pushes through the crowd, closing the distance between us, and when she reaches the stage, she doesn’t hesitate.
Her arms wrap around my neck, and she kisses me, soft at first, then deeper, like she’s trying to pour all the emotion she’s feeling into that one moment. The crowd goes wild, but I don’t care. All that matters is her.
When we finally break apart, she looks up at me, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright.
“You have no idea how much that means to me,” she whispers.
I brush a strand of hair from her face, my thumb grazing her cheek. “I think I do.”
The cheers and laughter of the crowd fade into the background as we stand there, wrapped in each other, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.