The Fire In Me

The Fire In Me Emily Whitlock Copyright Copyright © 2023 by Emily Whitlock All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. Contents 1. Prologue 2. Chapter One 3. Chapter Two 4. Chapter Three 5. Chapter Four 6. Chapter Five 7. Chapter Six 8. Chapter Seven 9. Chapter Eight 10. Chapter Nine 11. Chapter Ten 12. Chapter Eleven 13. Chapter Twelve 14. Chapter Thirteen 15. Chapter Forteen 16. Chapter Fifteen 17. Chapter Sixteen 18. Chapter Seventeen 19. Chapter Eighteen Also By Emily Whitlock Prologue Jackson Here I stand, in a fucking convenience store. Why the fuck am I even here? Maya wants me to meet another one of her friends. That’s fine, but why in a fucking gas station convenience store? It makes no sense. That’s not normal. It doesn’t help that I look like a guy who likes to rob these little shit holes. I have tattoos from my fingers all the way up to my neck, and the shits-for-brains store manager has been staring at me ever since I came in. I’m not even wearing a mask, so what’s he afraid of? Maybe I should rob him just to confirm his shitty stereotypes. I guess he doesn’t notice the blue shirt I’m wearing with “FIRE DEPARTMENT” stamped on the back. I don’t know many firefighters who steal from shitty convenience stores. “Jackson! She’s here!” Maya beckons me. I peel my eyes from the overpriced energy drinks with a sigh. “Couldn’t we have met at a coffee shop like normal people?” “She’s heading out of town for the weekend and is stopping for gas on the way. I wanted you to meet her before she leaves.” “Why the damn hurry? Couldn’t I have met her when she gets back?” “I’ve been trying to set this up for weeks, and this is the best I could do. She is moving, so she has been super busy.” “Fine. Let’s do this.” A girl walks in and smiles when she sees Maya and comes over to embrace her in a big hug. Holy hell. She is gorgeous. Not just your run-of-the-mill gorgeous, like fucking Marilyn Monroe with her dress flying up gorgeous. Something you never forget. Her short, auburn hair is in a simple, messy ponytail and she is clearly wearing comfy traveling clothes, but she looks perfect. There are women who look amazing no matter what they wear… and even better when they wear nothing. Damn, I’d better control myself. I’m in a relationship. “Jackson, this is Scarlett. Scarlett, this is Jackson. I’ve been trying to get you two to meet for weeks now,” Maya says as her face beams with happiness. “Nice to meet you, Jackson,” Scarlett says as she reaches her hand out to me. Her voice is smooth and dark like honey. I take her hand and give it a customary shake, my large, muscled hand engulfing hers. Her eyes lock on mine as we shake hands. I’m a fucking grown man, a six-foot-four, muscular titan who fights fires for a living, but I swear my knees go a little weak when we lock gazes. Her eyes are soft and bright, a perfect shade of vibrant blue that has to be accentuated by the copper top she is wearing. No way can her eyes always look like that, right? They’re too… fuck, they’re beautiful. Everything about this woman is just gorgeous. Too gorgeous… The guilt rises in my chest, and I let go of her hand to look at Maya, afraid she is watching and judging my reaction to her best friend. Luckily, she just beams at us, oblivious. My heart pounds against my rib cage, and I find it hard to form words in my brain. I haven’t reacted like this about a girl for a long time, or maybe ever; not even in high school. I see a little girl peek out from behind Scarlett, clinging to her pant leg. She is a pretty little girl and clearly takes after her mother. So, Scarlett has a kid. That means she is probably taken, anyway. Instinctively, I glance at her ring finger and see it is bare. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything… “So, I hear you are a firefighter,” Scarlett says. “Is it as dangerous as it sounds?” “Well, yeah,” I say, fumbling a bit over my words and kicking myself inside. “It’s not easy, that’s for sure. It takes a lot of training.” “And bravery, I bet,” Scarlett says with a cute smile. “I don’t think I could ever run into a fire. That just goes against our nature.” “Well, you’d be surprised. Sometimes, the urge to save people is stronger than the urge to run away. That’s how it is for a lot of us, anyway.” We lock eyes again, but I force myself to look at Maya. “Jackson is a hero, you know,” Maya says to Scarlett. “He carried a little boy out of a fire just last week. He had to be Leila’s age.” “Did the boy get burned?” asks the little girl, clutching Scarlett. I bend down a little to get more on the little girl’s level. I have to take training courses on how to deal with children and gain their trust. Carrying kids out of burning buildings is a lot easier when they trust you. Getting down at their level is supposed to help. “What’s your name, little one?” I ask. “Leila…” she says, shrinking back a bit. “That’s a pretty name. Don’t you worry about that boy. He wasn’t hurt a bit. He was running around the parking lot looking for beetles not a half-hour after I carried him out of that fire. Kids are tough, but I’m sure you know that. You look tough too.” She smiles, but doesn’t move, so I shrug my shoulders and stand back up. “She looks like you,” I say to Scarlett. “I