Page 14 of Wildfire (Owl Creek #1)

The next few days were a whirlwind of work and practice. Every morning, I would see the same text from Cole letting me know there was breakfast waiting before I left for work. And every evening, he'd make something for dinner that made me swoon just a little bit more.

Monday finally arrived, and I race home to shower, knowing that Zoe is on her way.

I need her so bad. My family is blowing up my cell phone and threatening to file a missing person's report, even though I left a note telling them why I was leaving.

I guess they finally started to see how much I did around that place, but things are getting out of hand, and it is eating me alive.

When I hear Zoe’s car pull down the driveway, I shoot down the stairs like a bullet and tear open her door as soon as she stops. She falls into my arms, and I hug her and let the tears fall. I couldn't have stopped if I'd tried.

"Hey babe," she pulls back and wipes my face. "What's with these tears? Who hurt you?"

"Me, you dummy. I need to talk to you."

She grabs her purse and follows me up the stairs. "You could have called me, you know."

"I know. It's just hitting me full-on seeing you right now."

"Got some ice cream? I think we need it."

"I've got something better." I pull the strawberry pie Cole made us yesterday out of the fridge.

"What the hell is this? Have you gone domestic?"

"I cook! But no. Cole made it for us."

She takes a few steps back and places her hand on her forehead like she is swooning. "The fire chief baked us a pie? I'm in love. Where is he?"

I swat her on the arm and dish some up for us. "Want real whipped cream? He made us some."

"Are you kidding me right now? He made whipped cream? Like it isn't out of a can?"

"Nope. And look at the lemon zest on the crust."

"Who does that?"

I love Zoe. Even though she grew up with a loving mom who tried her best, her mom was a single parent working her fingers to the bone to provide the best life she could.

She wasn't home much and couldn't do things like bake pies or make real whipped cream.

When we were teenagers, we devised a plan to get my dad and her mom married.

It was a total flop before anything happened, but the idea of being sisters for life didn't stop us from trying.

"Apparently, the fire chief of Owl Creek does."

"So what is wrong with him?"

"What do you mean?"

"He's obviously single, or his wife is mighty confident in herself letting you stay here while he bakes you pies!" She is almost screaming at this point.

"As far as I can tell, nothing is wrong with him.

He won't let me pay him for letting me stay here.

He got me a carpentry job, with his amazing mother no less.

He's smoking hot, and the whole town loves him, but he has never come on to me.

He brings me breakfast every morning, and we eat dinner together every night.

Except the night I met the coolest local band and played with them. "

"Wrangler." That was her name for me since we were little kids because I always wore my brother's hand-me-down Wrangler jeans. "Am I to understand that you found yourself a perfect man only a few hour's drive from home, and you're going to give that all up to go to Los Angeles?"

"You know it's my dream."

"Yes, but—"

"No buts, Zoe." I know that as independent as she is, Zoe wants to get married and settle down.

While I thought that was what I wanted, every time Michael would talk about us getting married, I had a minor panic attack, even when we were having sex.

Leaving him in Downsville was the right decision.

I wish I could feel the same way about leaving my dad.

"What I need to talk to you about is my family."

We spend the next hour sitting on the deck overlooking the water and talking about the shitshow I left behind. Zoe convinces me to reach out before she drops a bomb on me.

"I saw Michael before I left."

"Where at?"

"Slop Shop, where else?"

"I swear to God, that guy thinks he's going to get rich selling sloppy joes."

"To be fair, they had a three-car line in the drive-through."

"Good for him." I manage a weak smile. After two years of dating, I don't miss him at all, even though he was pretty good in the sack—or, I should say, the back seat.

We almost always had to do it in his car because I lived with my dad, and he still lived with his parents while he built his sandwich empire.

"He asked me about you, of course. He said he'd heard you up and left while he was at an out-of-state funeral, and the guy had such a puppy dog look on his face. I felt bad and let it slip I was coming to see you."

"You what? He knows where I am?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. He looked forlorn."

Some small part of me feels better because of it.

I know it's mean, but it's nice to be wanted for more than just cooking and cleaning.

Not that that wasn't the exact future Michael had in store for me if I'd walked down the aisle with him.

He didn't want me to work as a carpenter once we married.

Nope. It was his dream to have a stay-at-home wife.

Something about his pride in being the provider.

"Michael will find some other woman to marry. Someone who wants to be his sloppy joe queen."

We both burst out laughing thinking about it, just as I hear Cole's truck in the driveway.

Zoe's eyes bulge before she whispers, "Is that Prince Charming coming back to his castle?"

My heart lurches for a moment as I nod. I don't know why, but I am nervous to introduce them. We bring our plates in from the deck, and I quickly check my hair in the bathroom before we walk over to his place. The door is open, and the band I am playing with is booming out of the stereo.

"Good taste in music," she mouthes.

"This is the band I'm playing with. Please say you'll stay long enough to hear me with them."

She loops her arm in mine. "I'll see what I can do."