Page 23 of The Fire Between Us

But as I lie here in this hospital bed, my daughter safe beside me, in a town where people have shown us nothing but kindness, I allow myself to consider the possibility. Could we find more than just safety here? Could we find a real home, a real life?

And could that life possibly include the blue-eyed firefighter who carried me from danger without a second thought? The man who seems to be searching for something meaningful, just as I am?

I push the question away, not ready to examine it too closely. One step at a time. Get discharged. Move into the cottage. Focus on the job at Lou's. Establish stability for Amelia.

Everything else—including my unexpected reaction to Max Davidson—can wait.

But as I drift toward sleep, Amelia's warm weight against my side and Mrs. Gunderson knitting quietly in the chair, fragments of the day replay in my mind: smoke and fear, strong arms lifting me, the solid beat of a heart against my ear as I was carried to safety, the relief in blue eyes when I opened mine.

My hero, whether I wanted one or not.

Chapter 6 - Max

I've never been one for deep conversations. Ask any of the guys at the station—Max Davidson is good for a joke, a beer, a hand when you need one, but not for baring his soul. I'm the guy who deflects personal questions with humor and who changes the subject when things get too real.

So why the hell did I tell Jennie my life story?

The question follows me all the way home from the hospital, through my apartment door, and straight to the refrigerator where I grab a beer I probably shouldn't have with the painkillers the ER doc prescribed. I set it down unopened and sink onto my couch instead, wincing as my shoulder protests.

Something about her—those eyes, the way she held herself like someone who understood what it meant to be hurt by someone who should have protected you—broke through defenses I've maintained for many years. Words I never speak just tumbled out, and instead of the usual regret I feel when I've revealed too much, there was only... relief.

Relief and something else. Something that tightens my chest when I think about her ex-boyfriend slapping her around, raising a fist near her baby's crib. A red-hot anger that makes me wish the bastard would show up in Cedar Falls just so I could teach him what happens to men who hurt women and children.

"Women must be protected," my father would say, with spectacular hypocrisy, after beating my mother until she couldn't stand. No wonder she left us a few months before I did.

The one lesson of his I actually took to heart, though I understood it differently than he did. In my world, protecting doesn't mean controlling. It means making sure they're safe enough to make their own choices.

And Jennie has clearly been fighting for that safety, that autonomy, moving from town to town with her little girl, trying to outrun the shadow of a man who couldn't love without destroying.

I grab my phone, needing to talk to someone who won't give me endless shit for having feelings. Lewis would never let me live it down, Chief and Grant would analyze me to death, and Ollis... well, Ollis has his own demons these days. That leaves Ethan.

He picks up on the third ring.

"Davidson? It's almost midnight, man. Someone better be dead or dying."

"Sorry," I say, suddenly realizing the time. "I can call tomorrow."

"Nah, I'm up now," Ethan yawns. "What's going on? You sound weird."

I hesitate, unsure how to even begin. "There was a fire today. Mrs. Beaumont's place on Maple."

"I heard," Ethan says. "A young woman got caught in the cottage out back, right?"

"Yeah," I confirm. "She's new in town. Single mom with a one-year-old. She was looking at renting the cottage when the main house caught fire."

Ethan waits, knowing there's more to this midnight call than a routine fire report.

"I went in after her," I continue. "Against orders."

There's a pause. "That's... not like you. Breaking protocol, I mean. Going in after someone is exactly like you."

"I know," I admit. "That's why I'm calling. I can't get her off my mind, Ethan. What the hell is happening to me?"

A low chuckle comes through the phone. "Well, well. Has the unflappable Max Davidson finally met his match?"

"I'm serious," I protest. "I've known her for like three days, and I'm already breaking rules, telling her things I never tell anyone, fantasizing about punching her ex-boyfriend in the face—"

"Whoa, back up," Ethan interrupts. "Her ex-boyfriend?"

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