Page 6 of Mountain Man's Bonfire Beauty
“I saw you with that s’mores vendor.” Clayton bumped my arm with the hand holding a bottle of beer. “Seems like she’s pretty into you.”
Clayton was a newer friend, while Ashe and I had gone through deployment together. That made it a little awkward that Clayton was commenting on my love life, but it shouldn’t surprise me. He, along with the three other guys standing here with me, had all taken up with women who were vendors at this very fair. It only stood to reason they’d want to pull me into that whole situation with them.
“I don’t know about that.” I took another swig of my beer. “We got off to a rocky start.”
“Rocky starts can be the best kind,” Marc chimed in with a grin. “Ask me how I know.”
The guys laughed, and I found myself smiling despite my reservations. Maybe they had a point. The afternoon we’d spent working together had felt natural, easy in a way I hadn’t experienced with anyone in a long time.
“She’s been looking over here all night,” Clayton said. “And not at any of us.”
As if summoned by his words, I looked across the fire again. Sure enough, Parker’s gaze was trained on our group—on me, specifically. When our eyes met, she didn’t look away this time. Instead, she smiled, a soft, almost shy expression that made my chest tight.
“See?” Clayton said smugly. “Told you.”
The evening continued like that, with me trying to focus on the conversations around me while being hyperaware of Parker’s every movement. She’d moved from the vendor group to help serve s’mores to families, her natural ease with the kids on full display. Parents gravitated toward her, trusting her instantly with their children. She had that gift—the ability to make everyone around her feel comfortable, safe.
I was so caught up watching her that I almost missed Ashe checking his phone.
“Shit,” he said, his voice cutting through the laughter around us. “Guys, it’s 11:47.”
The effect was immediate. All five of us straightened, suddenly alert.
“We promised Bobbi we’d have everything shut down by midnight,” Marc said, already moving toward the fire. “How did it get so late?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, shifting into problem-solving mode. “We need to move. Now.”
The next fifteen minutes were a blur of organized chaos. The guys scattered in different directions—Ashe and Clayton started herding the remaining teenagers toward the parking area and Marc and Blade began collecting trash and abandoned lawn chairs, while I focused on the fire itself.
This was the tricky part. You couldn’t just douse a bonfire this size with water and call it good. That was a great way to create a steam explosion that could seriously hurt someone. It had to be done methodically and safely, even if it was midnight and everyone wanted to go to bed.
I started by spreading out the burning logs with a long metal rake, separating them so they’d burn down faster. The flames immediately began to diminish, but I could tell it was going to take a while for all the embers to die completely.
“Need any help?”
I turned to find Parker approaching, her arms wrapped around herself against the night chill. Most of the crowd had dispersed, and the vendors had packed up their booths. She should have been long gone by now.
“I’ve got it. You don’t have to stay. This could take another hour.”
“I know.” She settled onto a nearby log that had been set up as seating earlier in the evening. “I don’t mind waiting. Besides, someone should keep you company.”
The guys had finished their cleanup and were heading to their trucks, calling out goodbyes and promises to help clean up tomorrow if needed. Within minutes, it was just Parker and me in the glow of the dying fire.
“Successful night,” she said after a comfortable silence had settled between us.
“Yeah, it was.” I continued working the embers, spreading them out farther. “No injuries, no property damage, no angry calls from the fire marshal. I’ll take that as a win.”
“You should. This was really well organized.” She paused. “You’re good at this kind of thing.”
“Taking care of details? Making sure nothing goes wrong?” I shrugged. “It’s what I do.”
“No, I mean leading. People listen to you, trust you. That’s not something you can fake.”
Her words settled into something warm in my chest. I walked over and plopped down on the ground next to her, settling the large stick I’d used to stir the logs on the ground next to me.
“Thanks,” I said. “That means a lot, coming from you.”
“Why from me?”
