Page 114 of Knotting the Firefighters

His smirk widens—deliberately mysterious, clearly enjoying withholding information.

"You'll have to earn that story," he says with exaggerated solemnity, adding a wink that undermines any attempt at seriousness. "Maybe on a date."

A date.

He's asking me on a date?

Casual as discussing the weather, like it's the obvious next step rather than a complicated proposition.

I huff—sound that's half laughter, half exasperation—but can't suppress the smile tugging at my lips.

"Wouldn't that be excessive though? Ranch workandcafé assistance? That's a substantial time commitment for someone you barely know."

Bear shrugs, the gesture making my head bob slightly on his chest.

"Aidric's going to be ranch guru—man has an extensive agricultural background he's been hiding under a fire captain exterior. Silas is exceptional with animals, has that calm energy that makes even nervous livestock trust him. Me? I'm better with quick fixes and vehicle maintenance, but running a café sounds infinitely more entertaining."

He's serious.

Actually, considering this rather than making an empty offer to be polite.

"You're really down for it?" I need confirmation, need to hear him commit before I let myself hope. "Like, you could try it once and bail if you hate it. No pressure, no obligation."

His chuckle vibrates through both of us, warm and genuine.

"I'm not someone who starts things without finishing them. If I commit to helping with your café, I'm there until you decide you don't need me anymore."

Until I decide.

Giving me agency, putting control in my hands rather than assuming authority.

That's—

That's rare.

Precious.

The kind of thing that makes you want to trust despite every instinct screaming that trust leads to devastation.

We share a look—extended eye contact that feels intimate beyond physical proximity, communication happening beneath words, understanding forming through attention rather than explanation.

"You're easy to talk to," I whisper, vulnerability evident in quiet admission.

"It's easy talking with you, too," Bear responds with equal softness, sincerity evident despite casual phrasing.

His expression shifts slightly—contemplative, like he's considering whether to continue.

"It's going to be interesting now, though," he adds, the words carrying weight I don't understand.

I pout—automatic expression of confusion rather than actual dissatisfaction.

"What do you mean?"

"Ah—" His smirk returns, teasing edge to his tone. "So you were too sexed up to remember?"

Remember what?

What is he talking about?