Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
As much as eating crow is not in my diet, I need to apologize to Ben. But after coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.
Ben
I groan as the hot spray hits my shoulder blades. That fire was a close one. I hate when children are at risk. I see him every time I run into a burning building. As if he’s going to be there, waiting for me. Jackson Taylor was six years old and trapped in his bedroom on the second floor. The house was seconds from collapsing, and my father still ran inside. That’s what a chief did. His team called out, but he didn’t listen. The communication went dead. Then the boy’s bedroom window shattered, and my father reappeared. He held the little boy through the opening just long enough for another firefighter to reach for him. It was a miracle he made it to that room. Even more so that he knew to break the window and the ladder would be there.
What he didn’t plan for was the roof collapsing seconds after handing off the small boy. He chose to endanger his life and save that child. He knew the risks and still chose to run inside that house. Until the day he died, he stood by his motto of ‘people needed saving.’
Because of my father, Jackson Taylor got to grow up. He went off to college and is studying to become a doctor. My father would have been proud. He would have said he made the right decision that day. Because that’s who he was.
I shut the water off and get dressed. After filling out paperwork, I’m gonna try and sneak in a power nap. These kinds of fires always wear me down mentally. I throw my shirt over my head as my name is yelled.
“Wallace, there’s someone here to see you.”
“Another damsel in distress?” Mitchell chirps, walking in from his briefing with the chief. “It’s gotta be that babyface. Everyone wants a piece of that smooth, shaved—”
“Fuck off.” I shove my arms through my light jacket and grab my backpack. “For the record, they prefer the scruff. It tickles, they say.” I wink at Mitchell, offering him my baller smirk, and head out.
It’s common for strangers to stop by the station, offering their appreciation for rescuing their house or cat, the wedding album they insisted we run back to save. When I step into the garage and spot Makayla, it takes me by surprise. She doesn’t see me at first. Her hands are linked together as she twists them, stepping from foot to foot. No shocker, she’s biting on her bottom lip. She’s nervous as hell.
It sparks an array of memories from when we were kids. She always came off as big and bad, but there were moments when she allowed herself to be exposed. And in those rare moments, she seemed scared. Of what, I never knew. But it was like if she didn’t stay alert, a monster would jump from the shadows and swallow her whole. I messed with her because I wanted to wear her down until she confessed what secrets she was hiding. She never did. She continued to hide. Yeah, I was a jerk. I poked fun at her looks. She sure as hell had the biggest glasses I’ve ever seen, but they didn’t make her ugly. They just made the fear in her eyes more prominent. I don’t know why I ever called her ugly duckling. She wasn’t ugly. Even now, with that cute as hell nervous tick about her, I ache to break her down and make her confess all her deep secrets.
I stay hidden, just staring at her. I could do this for hours. But Brady ruins my plan when he walks into the firehouse.
“Hey, I know you. The girl who was going to murder Ben and feed his balls to your cat for dinner.”
Crimson blasts across Makayla’s face, and I can’t help but chuckle. It catches her attention, and she whips her head in my direction. “Uh. . . yeah. That’s me. Don’t worry. He still has his balls, and I don’t even own a cat.”
“Hmmm. . . shame. Would have been a great story to tell around the fire—”
“I’ll take it from here.” I walk up, interrupting their chat. Brady stifles a laugh and nods to Makayla. I stop in front of her, loving the way her body quivers. I don’t say anything, and it only intensifies her discomfort. Damn, she’s adorable.
She wets her lips and clears her throat. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I repeat.
She closes her eyes for a second and takes a deep breath. “I wanted to tell you I’m—”
“Go out with me.”
Her eyes widen. “What?”
“I said go out with me.”
I love catching her off guard. The way those addictive eyes stare back at me. “Why—Why would you want to go out with me? I’m a total jerk.”