Page 10 of Into the Fire
They moved in a kind of rhythm that didn’t need much commentary. Her finding the cerealcabinet without asking, and him handing her the milk like it was second nature.
After a moment, he leaned back against the counter, watching her quietly.
“You didn’t need to do all this,” he said again, softer this time.
“I know,” she replied. “But I wanted to.”
He looked like he might argue, then just nodded once.
“You want lunch?” he asked, surprising them both.
She blinked. “Sure. I’ve got time.”
“Good. Uh, we've got peanut butter and jelly and half a loaf of bread that June probably didn’t lick. Should be safe.”
Emery laughed and shook her head. “You sure know how to charm a girl.”
“Must be why I’m still single,” he muttered dryly, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he might’ve meant it as a joke.
“Here ya go,” he said, putting a plate in front ofEmery with a sandwich cut into triangles and a handful of chips that she had just picked up from the store.
Emery laughed. “Well, you plate it with such flair.”
“I’m a man of many talents.”
She arched a brow, her grin turning sly. “Oh, I don’t doubt that.”
For a second, the air shifted—something in the way his eyes locked with hers made the room feel warmer, more charged. Levi stood at the other side of the counter from where she sat on a stool, his shoulders still stiff like he wasn’t sure how to be still for longer than five minutes without a tool in his hand.
Emery tilted her head. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“You’re different than what I expected,” he said after a beat.
“I figured you’d be... uptight. Fancy city girl. Someone who’d run screaming at the sight of cow shit or a sink full of dishes.”
She smirked. “I mean, I’m not superthrilled about either of those things. But I’ve handled worse.”
Another pause.
“Your daughter’s great,” Emery offered gently. “Smart, funny. She’s got some fire in her.”
Levi’s mouth tugged up, proud and tired all at once. “Yeah. She’s my whole world. Just don’t always know if I’m doing enough.”
“You’re doing plenty,” Emery said quietly. “Even when you’re being a cranky cowboy.”
That got a huffed breath out of him, something almost like a laugh.
“I don’t mean to be an ass,” he admitted. “And still not a cowboy. I'm just… not used to having help. Especially not from someone like you.”
Emery blinked. “Someone like me?”
He glanced up, his eyes catching hers again. “Someone who makes it feel lighter, like you actually want to be here.”
The tension was thick enough to notice, but not quite heavy enough to break.
Before she could respond, her phone chirpedsharply from the counter.
Beep-beep. Beep-beep.
