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  “Okay.” Her eyelashes flutter closed as if she’s shielding her response. Before I can say anything else, she stands and gives me a wide berth. Thank God. I don’t need the distraction.

  After studying the screen for several seconds, I place my hands at the four and ten positions. Let this work. I sure the fuck don’t want to call Grady Malone or one of the other guys at the station to help me get a damn duck out of a drain. I’ve only been on the job for a week, and I don’t need that kind of humiliation.

  I hunch down, hold my breath, and yank with all my strength. The grate jerks upward and breaks free. The crowd surrounding us erupts into a booming cheer, and several lights flash. Great. I cringe. Please, don’t let this be on the cover of the newspaper.

  “Oh, my God, thank you.” Little Ms. Sunshine grips my bicep and ogles me like I’m Thor.

  I press my lips together. Don’t fall for it. There’s always a price to pay. No one’s as pure as the driven snow – even if she does look like an angel. “Get the duck.”

  “Okay.” She spins away from me.

  Fuck. I’m a prick. I clench my teeth and try to ignore her as she drops to her knees without seeming to care about getting dirt on her dress and scoops the critter out of the drain. “Take it straight to the grass, sit it down, and walk away.”

  “Yes, sir.” She marches away from me with her back as stiff as if she’d slept on a bed of bricks.

  When she steps into the grass, the crowd circles around her. “Guys, stand back. We don’t want to spook Gertrude or cause her to not take her baby back.”

  An older couple in matching burgundy tracksuits nods at her statement. The woman grabs Little Miss Sunshine’s forearm. “You’re so right, dear. Wild animals hate for their young to be messed with.”

  “Isn’t that all women.” A man with a baseball cap on cracks what he considers to be a joke.

  “Garrett.” She glares at him. “This isn’t a joking matter. It will break my heart if Gertrude abandons this poor little thing.”

  I close my eyes and try to block out their chatter. I don’t need the complications of this place. Where everyone knows everyone else. That only means more people to get into your business.

  “Here you go, Gertrude.” Her singsong voice breaks through my barriers and rolls over my flesh.

  I don’t need this. I march back to my pickup. Get me back to the safety of the fire station. How soon can I get back to civilization?

  Chapter Three

  Layla

  When Gertrude takes her duckling under her wing, my heart fills with relief. For a second there, I’d been afraid Mr. Pricklepuss was right, and she might abandon her baby. I would call him Picklepuss, but he’s more of a prick.

  Speaking of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Grumpalicious. Where did he go? The crowd in the park has thinned as the afternoon’s crisis has resolved itself. Mayor Winston hops in his vehicle and waves goodbye.

  The rumble of a muffler grabs my attention as the fireman steps on the gas and rolls up his window. Right before his face disappears behind the tinted glass, his shade covered eyes glance my direction, and my knees go weak.

  Don’t go there. You aren’t going to go all Layla Saves the Day on him. Some guys you can’t fix.

  And why would I want to fix him?

  Dark eyes and a five o’clock shadow are not prerequisites to get hung-up on. I want a strong man with a big heart who treats me like a queen. Is that too much to ask? Apparently so. I snort.

  As a twenty-three-year-old virgin, you’d think I’d give up finding that elusive unicorn and settle for a donkey with a paper hat held on by an elastic string. I’d have just as much luck with that quest.

  When I make it back inside the café, my boss arches an eyebrow and glances at the clock.

  I smile sheepishly. “Can we call it a late lunch?”

  “Layla, one of these days, your big heart is going to get you into a world of hurt.” Bertha crosses her arms over her ample bosom.

  “Whatever.” I roll my eyes, grab the coffee pot from the empty table, and snatch up my five-dollar tip. “You know the customers love my personality.”

  “Yes, they do.” She grabs a dishrag and scrubs along the front counter. “That’s why I put up with your flighty do-goodery. That and your Grandma Malone was one of my favorite classmates. By the way, how’s Betty?”

  “Grandma’s good. She’s settled in nicely at home after her hip surgery.”

  “Fantastic. I suppose you’ve been helping her at the house as she recovers.” She gives me a weak smile and flushes a light pink.

  “Of course. See.” I smile. “My do-goodery is beneficial in this case. Well, actually, in all cases.” I shrug. “Maybe I’m late to a few appointments, or I forgot a class or two when I was in college, but it was always for a good cause. I wasn’t out partying.”

  “No, dear.” She shakes her head. “You were helping carry someone’s groceries or taking somebody’s dog to the vet. Hell, it’s usually my customers, so how can I complain?”

  I set the pot on the counter and lean my hip against one of the stools. After the interlude in the park, there’s only one table left with customers, and they’re tidying up their plates. “Is it a bad thing I like to help people?”

  She touches my hand. “Only when you leave me in a lurch. You’ve got to remember to let me know when you’re going to be late or find someone to cover for you.” She tilts her head toward the front door. “Or going outside to rescue ducks.”

  “Sorry, Bertha.” The scuffed counter has been around as long as Bertha, and like her, they’re both holding up well. “I should have made sure you heard me before I left.”

  “Honey, I love your spirit. Everyone does. Don’t go about changing that. Just remember to be a little more responsible before saying yes to helping people out. You’ve got to balance your desire to help while meeting your obligations.”

  “You’re right.” I’ve been blessed growing up in this small town. Everyone looks out for me.

  My parents and grandparents are staples of the community, and as an only child, I was doted on, but now I’m a grown woman. I can’t depend on a big smile and a generous heart to get out of everything.

  “On to the important stuff.” Bertha places her elbows on the counter and cups her chin. “Who was the hottie outside helping you with Gertrude? I never thought I’d consider a wifebeater t-shirt sexy, but those muscles.” Her eyes glow as she shakes her head. “And those tattoos.”

  “Bertha!”

  “Hey.” She leans up and fans herself before patting her gray curls. “I might be old, but I’m not blind. I’ve taken more than one roll in the sheets before settling down with Mr. Waters.”

  “Really?” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Tell me more.”

  “Giiirl,” she smirks. “Don’t change the subject. We’re talking about your chivalrous helper.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t think he fits that category. He didn’t want to help and thought I was ridiculous.” And hurt my feelings. Asshole. I’m so not going to say that out loud. I’m an adult woman. I should be made from sturdier stuff. “I don’t even think he likes animals. Who doesn’t like animals?”

  She chuckles. “Not everyone is a bleeding heart like you.”

  Bleeding heart? I frown. Should I be tougher? Does it make me weak to care about animals and the elderly?

  Hell, I don’t know the first thing about hardening my heart. I cry every time Bambi’s on television. I straighten my back. “He said he works at the fire station but didn’t say his name. I’m sure Grady knows him.” My cousin, Grady, has worked for the fire department for years.

  Should I ask him about the mystery man who hates animals and thinks I’m a nuisance? That’s a big fat no.

  Yesss. I do a mental fist pump. There’s my first tough as nails decision. I don’t care what he thinks of me.

  Chapter Four

  Kameron

  I jam the gearshift into park. The fire station’s quaint and welcomi
ng, like everything else in this town.

  I’m used to the fast pace of the city, where we were called out for at least two to three fires a day. Granted, most of our work was helping with medical transports and trying to bridge relations between the residents and public servants, but Sunnyville’s quiet. Too quiet.

  After only a week, the sound of a siren makes me jump. I can’t afford to get soft. I’m only here for a few months. Then, I’ve got to figure out what I’m doing with my life.

  I pop the door open, causing the warning ding to fill the space. Shit. Forgot the keys. I yank them out of the ignition to make it stop.

  As I hop down from my pickup, Grady waves and walks across the parking lot. “How was the call?”

  “A real clusterfuck.” I jerk my sunglasses off and hook them on the front of my shirt. “You should have warned me the biggest action I’d see all day is a wild duck chase.”

  Grady snorts and crosses his arms. “The park?”

  “Yes.”

  “Gertrude’s a known city staple. She’s been hatching eggs there for the last several years. We moved her to Boyd’s farm for the first two years, but she came right back to the park.” Grady shrugs. “Now, we put up with her antics.”

  “Wonderful. I hope she keeps a better eye on them this time. One of her boneheaded ducklings fell into a drain, and this Little Miss Sunshine character was holding up traffic trying to save the fucking day.” I rotate my shoulders to ease the tension.

  I drove around the block three times before stopping while trying to get her out of my head, but I’m not having any luck.

  Grady’s nose scrunches. “Reddish auburn hair, a dusting of freckles, green eyes, and dressed like a teacher’s pet?”

  My skin grows tighter with each descriptive characteristic. “Yes. I take it you know her.”

  “Layla.”

  Layla. Even her name’s sexy. The desire to see how sweet she’d taste has been coursing through my veins with more strength than I can ever remember a woman wielding over me. I want to find out if she’s as pure as she puts on – no one ever is. I’m betting between the sheets she’s a hellcat.

  “Layla Malone. My third cousin.”

  Oh, fuck. I cough. Grady’s words are like an ice-cold bucket of water, drenched over my head. You don’t mind-fuck the cousin of the first person to make you feel welcome in a new town. “She seems like a nice girl.”

  “She is. One of the nicest people you’ll ever meet. She’s always helping someone. Her grandma, my great aunt, is recovering from hip surgery, so she’s spending a lot of time there helping her out. Then, there’s the nursing home. At least once a week, she stops by there to cheer up the residents.”

  Is that even real? Who does that? What’s wrong with her?

  Fuck. What’s wrong with me? I wanted to prove she’s a dirty girl at heart because I can’t accept her being a genuinely good person. Stay away. Stay extremely far away. “Thankfully, everything worked out. Gertrude got all of her ducklings back, and everything’s back to normal.”

  “That’s great.” He unlaces his arms and punches me on the shoulder. “Welcome to Sunnyville. Where everything’s an adventure.”

  “Very true. Just not the adventures I’m used to.” We turn and walk to the entrance of the fire station. The hot sun has the strong scent of asphalt filling the air.

  “You’ll get used to it. It’s not boring all the time, but it’s a slower pace. A great spot to settle down, get married, and raise a family.”

  “Yeah.” I’ve got plenty to say about the topic, but I’m smart enough to keep my mouth shut. Grady’s a happily married man – for now. I don’t want to ruin his vision of the future. My experience is filled with women who fold under pressure.

  “Are you settled in?” Grady opens the door and stands to the side, letting me go in first.

  “Finished moving everything in last night. Not that there was a lot. Roman left the place furnished, so I didn’t have to do much.”

  “You’ve got to come over to the house some time and meet Dylan. You’ll love her.” Dylan. Grady talks about her all the time. She can’t be as perfect as he’s made her out to be.

  “Sure.” I pop my neck. Damn, I’m tight. When was the last time I worked out? “We’ll have to make plans sometime, but for now, I’m still trying to get the lay of the land.” I shake my head. “And get used to how quiet it is.”

  “Dude, it’s great.” Grady beams as we near the other firemen who’re sitting around playing cards.

  The guys glance up, wave, and return to their game. All of them have been friendly and welcoming. Again, not something I’m used to.

  “I don’t know how you handle all the noise.” Liam Thornton frowns and lays down a nine of clubs. “I can’t stand all the sirens, smog, and the damn traffic. You’re going to learn to love the hum of air conditioners and streetlights. One day, you’re going to wake up and realize you don’t have tension in your muscles twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”

  I raise my eyebrows. What does that mean? Doesn’t everyone have a stiff neck, and what feels like an icepick shoved between their shoulders? Apparently not at twenty-six years old.

  The guys joke and throw down cards as the game progresses. Their movements are fluid as if they’ve done this dance a thousand times.

  Liam shoves his hat on backward as he gives Veego a dirty glare.

  “What?” Veego grins and leans back in his chair with his feet slung out in front of him.

  Mack is slouched in his seat with his hands propped on his stomach and cards fanned in front of him. A slight grin pulls his lips upward.

  Liam slaps a card down on the table as Grady slips into the open seat. “Next round, I’m back in.”

  Am I wound tight? I grab a chair, twist it around, and straddle it. I don’t know the first thing about small town living, but I feel that if I stick around here long, I’ll know it all by heart.

  Several minutes later, the bell in the firehouse rings. The guys groan in unison, drop their cards to the table, leaving them scattered in piles, and shove out of their chairs.

  My pulse jumps as every muscle in my body goes on high alert. What’s wrong with me? When was the last time I reacted to a fire alarm? Ten?

  “We’re on boys.” Grady smacks Mack on the back.

  “Wonder what it is this time? Gertrude waddling into traffic, again?” Veego snickers.

  “I hope not. I’ve already done that scenario today.”

  Liam laughs as we jog to the firetruck to suit up.

  “One alarm fire at the corner of Pavilion Circle and Watkin’s Drive.” Blasts over the intercom.

  The guys hurriedly suit up but continue to crack jokes as they get ready. I try and wrap my mind around their response. It’s not that they aren’t serious about prepping for the call, but the anxiety I’m used to in the city isn’t present.

  They all have a self-assured, ‘we’ve got this shit’ kind of swagger. What’s it like to know everyone’s got each other’s backs, and it’s not an opportunity to stab each other to get to the top.

  Fire’s still fire – that won’t ever change. And I know Grady’s history of losing his friend and getting injured, but their confidence and comradery is fascinating to watch. Back home, the only guy I was close to was Rich Anderson. I cringe. That shit went epically bad.

  Grady cocks his head and grins. “You ready?”

  “Yeah.” I nod as I slide the oversized straps of my Turnout Pants over my shoulders and grab my coat off the hook.

  “Dude, it’s going to be fine. We don’t have high rises. We have new fire hydrants on all the street corners, so you don’t have to worry about dry hydrants. And we’ve got your back, so load up and let’s roll.”

  “Sure thing.” I nod, run to the firetruck, and slide into the backseat as Grady’s words replay through my mind. What would it be like to stay in a town like this and put down roots?

  Chapter Five

  Layla

  I
sniff. “What’s that smell?” It smells like smoke. I sniff harder and open my front door. I glimpse to the right and then to the left.

  Everything in my front yard is the same as it was ten minutes ago when I arrived home. I squint and study the Harper’s house. Their lights are off, and no vehicles are in the driveway.

  The smell of smoke grows heavier. Please, don’t be my house. I should have gotten rental insurance. I jog to the driveway and survey the one a half story structure. There’s nothing fancy about the place, but it’s sturdy and in decent shape.

  “Damn it, Mabel. I told you not to leave the stove on.” Nelson Gibson’s gravelly voice bellows into the quiet neighborhood.

  “I turned it off,” Mabel mutters loudly from their front steps. “At least I think I did.”

  I sniff again and shift my attention to my elderly neighbor’s house as Mabel and Nelson shuffle down their front steps.

  “Everything okay?” I climb down my stairs and walk across the grass.

  “Yes, dear.” Mabel nods and waves her hand dismissively.

  “No, it’s not, Mabel. The fucking house is on fire.”

  “What part of the house is on fire? Did you call the fire department?” As my gaze darts over their home, I run the rest of the way across the yard and up their driveway.

  No flames lick through the roof in search of oxygen. That’s a good sign. Right? How the heck would I know. I didn’t take Firefighting 101.

  “The damn kitchen.” Nelson shakes his head in disgust. “Mabel left the burner on again.”

  “Did not.” Her narrowed eyes shoot daggers at him, and she crosses her arms.

  “Did you call the fire department?” I slow down and say each word clearly. Both are hard of hearing and nearly eighty years old.

  “Yes, I called the fire department.” Nelson shifts his irritated gaze in my direction. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  “No, Mr. Gibson. Not at all.” Lord, help me. Stupid? No. Senile? Slightly. Where’s my cellphone? Where did I toss the darn thing? Sofa? No. It’s not there. Table? No. I don’t think it’s there. Refrigerator? Crap. I left it on the top shelf of the fridge when I grabbed a soda.