Page 7 of Falling for the Firefighter
Mac crouches, scratching behind Scout's ears. The position brings his face level with my hips. I step to the side, disturbed by how my body responds to the proximity.
"Smart girl knows quality when she sees it." He looks up at me from his crouched position, a view that sends inappropriate heat coursing through me.
"What did you feed her when I wasn't looking?"
"Nothing yet." He straightens in one fluid motion, bringing him closer than before. The morning light catches the gold flecks in his blue eyes as he grins down at me. "I keep beef jerky in my pocket for emergencies."
"Firefighting emergencies or dog-bribing emergencies?"
"Same thing." He doesn't step back, forcing me to tilt my head to maintain eye contact. Scout remains pressed against his leg, the canine equivalent of taking sides. "These evacuation routes—I'd like to walk them personally."
The casual request carries weight. Fire captains typically delegate such tasks to their team. The implication hangs in the air between us—hours alone together on remote mountain trails.
"You don't trust my maps?" I raise an eyebrow, attempting nonchalance despite the sudden acceleration of my pulse.
"I trust verification." His expression turns serious, though his eyes still hold that dangerous spark. "If we need these routes in an emergency, I want them imprinted in my memory, not just on paper."
The logic is sound, but something tells me there's more to this request. Still, I can't refuse—not without seeming unprofessional or, worse, afraid of spending time alone with him.
"Fine." I close my map case with more force than necessary. "It'll take several days to cover the primary routes."
"I've got time." His voice drops lower, vibrating through the small space between us. "Unless you're too busy giving tourists creative directions around town?"
Heat flares in my cheeks at the reminder. "I can make room in my schedule."
"Good." The challenge returns to his eyes as he leans closer, close enough that I can feel his breath on my face. "Ifind hands-on experience far more educational than theoretical discussions."
The double entendre hangs in the air between us, impossible to ignore. I should be offended. Instead, something electric and dangerous sparks in my chest.
"Seven routes, Captain Sullivan." I refuse to step back, though every survival instinct screams at me to create distance. "Hope your hiking boots are broken in."
"Worried about keeping up with me, Mackenzie?" The question carries layers of meaning, none of them about hiking.
"Worried about having to carry you back down the mountain when your California lungs can't handle our altitude. And my name is Jo."
He laughs—a genuine sound that crinkles the corners of his eyes and vibrates through the air between us, somehow more intimate than his earlier provocations.
"Fair warning,Mackenzie…" He deliberately refuses to use my name. "I’ve summited Denali. Twice." His eyes track over my face, lingering on my mouth before returning to my eyes. "I have excellent... endurance."
Of course he does.
The crew filters back in, carrying coffee cups and pastry bags from Maggie's. They distribute them with the efficiency of people accustomed to sharing resources, and I'm surprised when Rodriguez hands me a steaming cup.
"Two sugars, no cream—right? Sheriff mentioned that's how you take it."
"Thanks." I accept the unexpected kindness, noticing several crew members watching the exchange with poorly disguised interest.
"So, Cap," Burke calls across the room, "Ms. Mackenzie convinced you about those trail markers yet?"
Mac takes a sip of his coffee, eyes never leaving mine over the rim of his cup. "We're still in negotiations."
"Negotiations, huh?" Martinez exchanges looks with Parker. "That’s what they're calling it these days?"
A ripple of laughter moves through the crew. Mac silences it with a look, but not before I catch his own suppressed smile.
"Ms. Mackenzie has agreed to guide me through the evacuation routes personally," he announces, voice professional despite the speculation dancing in his eyes. "We'll verify the viability of each one."
"All seven routes?" Parker raises an eyebrow, her tone suggesting she understands exactly what's happening. "That's at least three days of hiking. Alone. In remote terrain."
