Playing with fire never felt this awkward... or so good.One minute I was covering a routine car accident for the paper. The next, I was staring up-way up-at the broadest shoulders I'd ever seen. Dane looked like he'd been carved out of granite… if granite could smirk and smell faintly of smoke and danger.When my editor decided I should shadow him for a "day in the life" article, I thought it'd be easy. Take notes, snap a few pictures, try not to drool. Instead, I kept finding myself in situations that involved dangling from ladders, dodging flames, and accidentally blurting things that sounded a lot like flirting.He's stoic, I'm sarcastic, and apparently that's combustible-just not in the way OSHA recommends. The more time we spend together, the harder it is to tell if I'm writing a story about him… or about us.What started as a professional ride-along ignited into scorching chemistry neither of us could resist. From bowling dates to steamy kitchen encounters, Dane showed me there's more than one way to handle a hose!Fighting the Flames Within is a slow-burn, laugh-out-loud, hurt/comfort romance with a guaranteed HEA-because some sparks are worth fanning into a blaze.
