Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Kelsie
Handsome firefighter swoops in and saves the day for a struggling single mom…
It sounds like something straight out of a romance novel, but that’s exactly what happens the first time I meet Pierce in our small-town grocery store.
His kind gesture helps thaw my icy exterior, but I can’t afford to get involved with someone who risks his life on a daily basis.
After a tragic fire left me to raise my daughter alone, my heart is frozen solid and closed for business.
It may be too late, though, because despite my better judgment, I’m already wrapped up in him.
This man has ignited a flame that seems resistant to logic. And his love is a gift I never expected to receive.
Pierce
Rescuing people is what I do.
And the moment I see the sexy single mom standing flustered in the checkout lane, I can’t stop myself from stepping in to help.
Sparks fly when she pops into the fire station to say thank you.
Even though she tries to deny it, I know I’m not the only one who feels the chemistry between us.
For the first time, there’s a fire I don’t want to extinguish.
Not when I know I can stoke the flames and burn down those walls around her heart.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PROLOGUE
KELSIE
“Mommy, owie.”
My precious baby girl stares up at me, tears in her eyes, because her ear infection is causing her pain. She’s on antibiotics and has already taken a pain reliever, though it takes time to work.
“I know, Ladybug.”
I hold her close and run my fingers through her soft, red curls that are identical to mine. She’s sweating a bit from crying, and I kiss her damp forehead, wishing I could make the pain go away.
Nobody warns you when you become a parent about how helpless you’ll feel most of the time. I’m her mom. I should be able to fix what’s wrong, yet there’s nothing I can do to make her feel better. Aside from comforting her the best I can and giving her the medication the doctor prescribed, my hands are tied.
“Daddy,” Jordan whines, wanting her dad.
Normally, I’d bring her to our room, since our bed is bigger and more comfortable, but he has exams coming up. He has been studying like crazy the last few weeks. If we’re in bed with him, he’ll feel obligated to be awake, and he needs his rest. Trent’s in his senior year of college, majoring in architecture, and it’s by far his hardest semester. Since I stay home with Jordan, I’ll nap tomorrow when she does, but Trent doesn’t have that same luxury.
I continue to stroke Jordan’s hair and run my fingers gently along her soft cheek, until her green eyes—which are identical to my own—flutter closed, and she falls into a fitted sleep. I consider laying her in her crib and going back downstairs to bed, but I’m too tired. I know she’ll be awake again soon, needing more pain relievers. So, instead, with my two-year-old snuggled into my chest, I fall asleep on the futon in her room.
It’s hard to breathe.
I try to suck in a sharp breath, but my lungs burn, causing my eyes to water.
It’s stiflingly hot.
Did Trent turn the heat on too high?
Jordan is crying.
She must’ve woken up in pain.
What’s that smell? Why does it smell like…?
I blink several times before taking in the foggy room. It only takes a few seconds for my sleepy brain to stumble awake. The house is on fire. And the alarm never went off. I glance up and remember a few weeks ago when the smoke detector was beeping, indicating the battery was dying. Trent took it out to stop the incessant beeping, but he must not have replaced it.
“Mommy!” Jordan cries through her coughing fit as I bundle her up in the blankets so I can get us out of here. I have no idea how bad the fire is, or where it started—where Trent is—but thanks to being on the second floor, I have no choice but to get us down the stairs in order to get us outside to safety.
When I open the door, the first thing I hear is an alarm going off. Hopefully this means Trent has called the fire department. Unless he went out… Sometimes when he’s stressed, he’ll go for walks or head to the local bar to have a drink and unwind.
When I step into the smoke-filled hall, I look over the railing and see a glow from downstairs that must be the fire. I release a choked sob, unsure how I’m going to get us out. The house is made of wood. Are the steps safe? Will we fall through? The last thing I want to do is try to run through the flames and risk Jordan getting burned.
I race back into the bedroom and close the door behind us. I’m prepared to jump out the second story window if it means we’ll get out, but when I lift the curtains, my heart sinks.
Bars are on the windows. This home is old, one of the reasons we were able to rent it for cheap in Boston. I remember thinking how the bars gave the home a charming feel, and Trent mentioned it made it safer. He worried about Jordan and me being home alone for hours every day. At the time, I thought it was sweet of him. But now, as Jordan’s screams increase and I stand stuck in place with no way to get us out, I wish we had the foresight to have the bars removed. But nobody thinks about their home catching fire…until it does.
“It’s okay, Ladybug,” I coo, trying to keep my voice calm for my daughter. The truth is, I’m freaking the hell out. The smoke is starting to cloud the room to the point where it’s hard to see, and I’m having trouble breathing. Jordan is choking on her cough, and I don’t know what to do to save us.
Please, God, let the fire department be on their way.
I open the window, needing the fresh air so I can think. My cell phone is downstairs. I have no idea where Trent is.