Page 129 of Sunkissed Colorado

With a heavy exhale, I grabbed a slice of bread and spread mustard over it. “Zandra is every bit as stubborn as Grace, but with even more attitude. If you’ve got tips on taming a woman whose love language is sarcasm and scowls…”

Dane pointed his serrated knife at me. “See, there’s your problem right there. Thinking you can tame her. You just gotta hang on for the ride. The key is whether you’re enjoying it.”

“Every damn second of it.”

“There you have it.” He cut his sandwich diagonally and passed me the knife. “So you think you’re in love with Zandra?”

I focused on sandwich building, letting the seconds tick by before I finally answered. Because what the hell did I know about love?

“Every time I think I have her figured out, I screw up again. She’s got me doing things I never saw coming. She can make me happier than I ever thought I would be and then wreck me in the same conversation.” I slapped the top layer of bread into place. “But the only thing that makes me crazier than being with her is the thought of ever being without her.”

“Sounds like love to me,” Dane said.

The first bite of my sandwich didn’t taste like turkey and havarti.

It tasted likecertainty.

Because what I really needed wasn’t a midnight snack with my future brother-in-law. What I needed was my Sunflower. While I could respect her need for space, it was also my responsibility to give her all the information she didn’t have.

I had to tell her I loved her.

“Mind if I take this to go?” I asked, holding up the sandwich.

Dane nodded. “I’ll fill in Grace. Go get Zandra.”

As I drove back toward Hearthstone Brewing, I tried Zandra’s number. She didn’t answer. Maybe she wasn’t ready to see me yet, but I still had to do this. Had to see her.

If she wasn’t up for talking about work or the meeting with Manny tomorrow, then I was going to be okay with that. Just so long as she waswith me. So long as she knew how I felt.

Whatever it took, I was going to make things okay between us. Better than okay. Because I loved her, and there was no way I’d give up on what we had.

As I pulled into the parking lot for Hearthstone, I slammed on the brakes when a figure darted out in front of me, running from the building. Wait, was that?—

Ian?

In an instant, he’d vanished. Running away from the brewery, which was concerning enough. But then I noticed smoke curling from the back entrance of the building.

My heart fuckingstopped.

I threw the truck into park and ran toward the building. The smoke alarm was screaming, a shrill sound that cut through the night air. As a volunteer firefighter for our small-town department, I knew the procedures. I should wait for a truck to respond. I should assess the situation from a safe distance.

But Zandra could be inside. So I charged in.

The frame of the back door was splintered. Someone had already kicked it in, yet I saw no signs of anyone here. Smoke was thick in the hallway, and I could see the orange glow of flames. The heat hit me like a physical blow.

I dropped low, covering my nose and mouth with my shirt as I moved through the smoke. “Zandra!”

I found her crouched on the ground, coughing violently, an empty fire extinguisher beside her. Her face was streaked with soot, and her breathing was labored. Panic shot through my system.

Quickly as I could, I carried her outside and laid her on the ground in the parking lot just as an engine raced up, sirens wailing. She was struggling to breathe. I tilted her head to help open her airways. “Oxygen!” I screamed as boots hit the concrete somewhere behind me. “She needs fucking oxygen!”

Someone yanked me out of the way, a gloved hand fisting my shirt. “Callum, stand clear. Let us work.” It was a familiar voice, but my focus was purely on her. An oxygen mask covered her face.

“You need to get checked out,” the guy holding on to my shirt said. It was Jake, one of the few full-time firefighters for the department.

“No, I need to help.” All that mattered to me was Zandra, but I also knew how much Hearthstone meant to her. This place was her dream, her future.

I couldn’t let it burn down.