Page 16 of Flare (Bearpaw Ridge Firefighters #17)

“ She died a couple of nights later,” she continued, her voice thick with emotion.

“ And I felt so guilty because I was relieved that her suffering was over.” She looked up at Ward, fresh tears spilling from her now-reddened eyes.

“ It sounds so awful to say I was glad she died. Because I miss her so much. I ’ d give anything to see her again. ”

“ It ’ s okay to want someone ’ s pain to end, even if it means letting them go,” Ward said as gently as he could.

Emily grabbed a fresh tissue. Ward ached to take her into his arms and comfort her. Instead, he did the only thing he could: give her space to regain her composure.

“ Thank you for listening,” she said. “ I haven ’ t really talked about this with anyone. Andrew, well, even before things went bad, he hated hearing about anything he couldn ’ t fix.”

“ Thank you for telling me,” Ward said. “ And I ’ m so sorry for your loss.”

Their server came by to refill their drinks. Emily busied herself with wiping away the last of her tears and smeared eyeliner.

Then she fixed a smile on her face. “ Enough about me. Tell me about how you became a carpenter. Maggie said you ’ re great at it.”

Ward nodded, taking a drink of his tea before continuing. “ My dad always dreamed I ’ d follow in Ellie ’ s footsteps—go to law school, join the family firm. He had my future all mapped out.” He smiled ruefully. “ But I always preferred working with my hands to schoolwork and memorizing textbooks.”

“ I remember you were always making things,” Emily said. “ You built that amazing tree house for your cousins one summer.”

Ward felt pleased she remembered. “ Yeah, that was my first construction project. I looked the other day, and it ’ s still there. Needs some repairs. It ’ ll be a while before D.A. is old enough to play on it, though.”

“ So what happened with your dad?” Emily prompted.

“ I thought he ’ d be so disappointed when I told him I wanted to study construction technology instead of pre-law,” Ward admitted.

“ I ’ d been dreading that conversation for months.

But when I finally got up the courage to tell him…

” He shook his head, still amazed at the memory.

“ He just nodded and asked what schools I was considering.”

“ That ’ s wonderful,” Emily said.

“ It was. I ’ m grateful my parents let me and Ellie do our own thing, figure out who we are.” Ward realized how lucky he was, especially compared to what Emily had gone through. “ Not everyone gets that kind of understanding.”

Emily nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. “ And then what happened?”

“ After I finished all the requirements for a journeyman carpenter, I came back here and started working as a subcontractor for Dad ’ s cousin Tyler.

I also started taking independent jobs here and there between construction gigs—deck repairs, built-in bookshelves, that kind of thing.

” Ward enjoyed telling her about his journey.

“ Now I ’ m doing full-scale renovations of historic buildings and building furniture.

Just finished a set of custom bookshelves last weekend for someone up in Missoula. ”

“ That ’ s amazing, Ward,” Emily said, and the sincerity in her voice made his chest feel warm. “ Have you ever thought about opening a showroom? Maybe here on Main Street? I noticed that the old video rental place is still for rent.”

“ I ’ ve thought about it once or twice,” Ward admitted.

“ But I ’ m not sure there ’ s enough demand for custom furniture to warrant renting a place.

Maybe if I added architectural salvage pieces…

” He trailed off, thinking. “ Yeah, that might work. Thanks to that Reviving Snowberry Springs show, everyone these days is crazy for things like antique fireplace mantels and vintage double-hung windows. Maybe if I combined the retail space with my workshop?”

“ I think that ’ s a great idea. Do you have a website?”

As they continued to discuss how to expand his carpentry business, Ward noticed how Emily asked thoughtful questions, listened intently to his answers, and then came up with great ideas.

He was struck by how easy it was to talk to her. They ’ d known each other since they were kids, of course, but this was different. He ’ d been so tongue-tied whenever he was around her, they ’ d never had an actual conversation like this before.

By the time Justin brought out the blueberry-lavender cobbler, they were leaning toward each other across the table, their fingers inches apart on the weathered wood as Emily sketched out her idea for a website layout. Ward had never felt so connected to another person.

His bear wanted to claim her on the spot, to protect her, to erase all memory of the man who ’ d hurt her. But the man in Ward knew that healing took time.

As Emily scooped up a bite of cobbler, her eyes meeting his over her spoon, Ward decided that time was something he had plenty of. He ’ d wait for her, however long it took.

∞∞∞

It had cooled considerably by the time they left the restaurant. Ward walked beside Emily, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her body but not quite touching her.

Main Street was deserted now, most of the stores closed for the evening.

The festival banners fastened to the lampposts fluttered gently in the breeze, and the scent of the lilac bushes in the planters lining the curbs perfumed the air.

Tonight, his senses felt heightened, cataloging every detail of his time with Emily.

“ My car ’ s parked behind the bakery,” she said, gesturing toward Cinnamon + Sugar ’ s darkened windows across the street.

“ I ’ ll walk you,” Ward offered immediately.

They crossed Main Street together, their shoulders occasionally brushing. Each accidental contact sent a jolt of awareness through Ward ’ s body. His bear stirred restlessly, wanting more—wanting to touch her, hold her, claim her.

Cinnamon + Sugar ’ s small parking lot was empty except for Emily ’ s Subaru, parked next to the bakery ’ s back door. Their footsteps crunched on the gravel as they approached the car.

Emily turned to face him, her blonde hair silvered by the lamplight. “ Thank you for tonight,” she said. “ I had a great time.”

“ Me too,” Ward said. “ Best ribs I ’ ve ever had at Justin ’ s.” He paused, then added with a grin, “ And the company wasn ’ t bad either.”

Emily laughed. “ High praise from a Swanson.”

Ward felt himself leaning closer, drawn by something beyond his control. Emily ’ s laughter faded, her eyes widening slightly as she recognized his intent. She didn ’ t move away.

“ Ward,” she murmured, his name a question and a prayer all at once.

The last threads of his self-control snapped.

Ward drew her into his arms, one hand sliding through her silky hair to cradle the back of her head as his mouth found hers. Her lips were soft, tasting faintly of blueberries and vanilla from the cobbler. For one heart-stopping moment, she froze in his embrace.

Oh God. Did I move too fast? Have I fucked this up?

Then Emily melted against him, her arms sliding around his neck. Her body pressed against his, her soft curves fitting perfectly against him as she returned his kiss with unexpected fervor.

The kiss deepened. Weeks of longing and years of wondering channeled into this one perfect moment. Ward ’ s hand slid down to the small of her back, pulling her closer, while Emily ’ s fingers dug into his shoulders.

Ward ’ s bear roared in triumph inside him as she made a small, needy sound in the back of her throat. Heat bloomed between them, urgent and raw.

Abruptly, Emily pulled away, her breathing as ragged as his own.

“ I-I can ’ t,” she whispered, her voice unsteady. “ Ward, I ’ m sorry, but I can ’ t do this. Not right now.”

Ward dropped his hands and gave her the space she needed, though every instinct screamed to pull her back into his arms.

“ I ’ m the one who should apologize,” he said, his voice rough. “ I didn ’ t mean to rush you.”

Emily shook her head. “ You ’ re a great guy, Ward. The best. But it ’ s too soon. I ’ m dealing with everything that happened with Andrew, and I just need time.”

“ Of course. I totally understand,” Ward said, even as his bear grumbled in protest. “ Take all the time you need.”

She studied his face for a long moment. “ I appreciate that. You make me feel… safe.”

Ward reveled in the compliment as Emily unlocked her car. She slid into the driver ’ s seat and closed the door, rolling down the window as she started the engine.

“ Goodnight,” she said. “ Thank you again for dinner.”

“ Goodnight,” he replied, stepping back as she reversed out of the parking space. “ Drive safely.”

Ward stood motionless, watching until her taillights disappeared around the corner. The phantom sensation of her lips against his lingered, and he touched his mouth with his fingertips, trying to preserve the feeling.

His bear paced restlessly inside him, agitated by Emily ’ s departure.

And Ward wanted her, more than he ’ d ever wanted anything in his life. His cock was rock hard, painfully imprisoned in his tight jeans.

He began walking home. The cool night air did little to clear his head, which was spinning with implications and complications.

Andrew Brunborn had marked Emily as his mate—a bond that was supposed to be unbreakable. But Andrew had terrorized Emily until she ’ d fled hundreds of miles to escape him. He ’ d had his chance, and he ’ d chosen to treat Emily like a possession rather than cherish her as a mate should.

Now it was up to Ward to protect her hard-won freedom, to give her the space and time she needed to heal.

The practical, logical part of him warned him to back off, to be Emily ’ s friend and nothing more. To respect the mating bond, even if Andrew hadn ’ t.

His bear growled, rejecting any suggestion of letting Emily go. And their kiss replayed in his mind—how utterly right she ’ d felt in his arms, and the way she ’ d responded to him with such intensity before pulling away.

Ward didn ’ t know if pursuing Emily was right or wrong in the grand scheme of things.

He knew only one thing with absolute certainty: he had to protect her from the abusive mate she ’ d rightfully rejected.