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)
I glance at the sky, darkening with the onset of night. The smoke clouds blot out the stars, leaving the world dim and eerie.
“There’s a cabin about a mile out,” I say. “We’ll head there for the night.”
“What about me?” Juniper pipes up, stepping closer.
“You’re coming with me,” I tell her firmly. “There’s a fire tower across the river. It’s safer and farther from the flames.”
Her eyes narrow. “Safer? But I could get some footage of the guys at the cabin–”
I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to snap. “It’s safer for you across the river. That’s all that matters.”
She studies me for a moment, then nods. “Fine. Lead the way.”
We walk through the forest, and I have to resist the urge to throw her over my shoulder every step of the way. When we reach the river, I do carry her as I make my way across the access bridge that crosses the rushing water.
The fire tower looms ahead, a skeletal structure silhouetted against the smoky horizon. By the time we reach it, my muscles ache, and my patience is wearing thin.
“Climb,” I instruct, gesturing to the metal ladder.
She eyes it warily. “Ladies first, what a gentleman.”
I snort, crossing my arms. “Not a chance. I’m just not letting you out of my sight.”
She mutters something under her breath but starts climbing, and I follow close behind, my eyes trained on her every move.
When we reach the top, the small cabin at the tower’s peak is a welcome sight. I shove the door open, stepping aside to let her in.
“Home sweet home,” she says, glancing around.
“It’s not supposed to be comfortable,” I reply, setting my gear down.
She raises an eyebrow. “Good thing I have such excellent company, then.”
I glare at her, but she just grins, sinking onto the narrow bench by the window.
The silence stretches between us, heavy and charged. Outside, the glow of the fire still paints the horizon, helicopters flying overhead now and again as they work to control the flames. Up here, it feels like we’re in our own little world.
“You don’t have to hover,” Juniper says, breaking the quiet.
“I’m not hovering,” I lie, pacing by the door.
“Yes, you are.” Her tone is teasing, but her gaze is steady. “Sit down, Flint. You’re making me nervous.”
I hesitate, then reluctantly drop onto the bench across from her.
“There. Was that so hard?” she asks, smirking.
I ignore her, staring out the window. “You shouldn’t have come out here.”
“And miss all the fun?”
I shoot her a look, but her grin doesn’t falter.
“Why do you do this?” I ask, my voice quieter than I intended. “Why put yourself in danger for a documentary?”
Her smile softens, and for a moment, she looks almost vulnerable. “Because it matters. Because if people don’t see what’s happening, they won’t care enough to change it.”
I study her, the passion in her eyes undeniable. “You really believe that?”
“I have to.”
The simplicity of her answer hits me harder than I expect.
“Why do you fight fires?” she asks.
I shrug, realizing no one has ever cared to ask me this before. “Because saving lives feels like the best thing to do with my time on this earth.”
“Hero, huh?” she grins, bumping her shoulder against mine. I smile, letting her in a little more. She’s breaking down all the barriers I’ve built before now. The ones I had to construct just to get through my time in the military. Her fingertips brush my wrist, our gaze hovering long before I swallow, thinking the only thing I want to do is kiss her right now. But it’s not the time, not while my guys are fighting out in the woods, risking their lives to stop an inferno.
Juniper pulls her jacket tighter around her, but I can see the shiver that runs through her.
“Here,” I say, shrugging off my own jacket and draping it over her shoulders.
She blinks up at me, surprise flickering in her gaze. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
But the sight of her wrapped in my jacket does something to me—something I can’t ignore.
“You’re not what I expected,” I admit, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
She tilts her head, curiosity lighting her expression. “And what did you expect?”
I shrug, leaning back against the wall. “Someone more... polished. Less stubborn.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” she says, but there’s a teasing edge to her tone.
“You’re not a disappointment, Juniper.” My voice is low, but the weight of my words hangs in the air between us.
Her breath catches, and for a moment, neither of us moves. The tension crackles like the embers of a dying fire, and I’m not sure which of us will break first.
When she finally speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to protect me, Flint.”
“Yes, I do.”
Her eyes meet mine, and I see the fire in them—the same fire that’s been there since the moment we met.