Page 43 of Living with Fire

He smiles at me, some of the burden easing from his eyes, and I swear my heart stutters as he adds, “You start tomorrow. Tonight, we eat.”

CHAPTER 16

NATE

It’s been six days since Savanna told me she was an accountant, five since she started working in the office to get all the financial documents up to date. In those six days, I’ve worked two shifts at the firehouse, the rest of my days and evenings behind the bar.

The first day I came back after a shift at the house was the day after she started, and I was astonished to see how much she had gotten done in the office over the course of a twenty-four hour period. She had everything organized into neat piles and there seemed to be some order to the chaos.

For the first time since I found out about the tax situation, I took an entire breath. The fear that I wouldn’t admit to, the one that was sitting not only on my shoulders, but on my chest, weighing on my heart, eased. I had hope. Hope that I wouldn’t lose the bar. Hope that my employees would keep their jobs. Savanna had given me so much hope.

I couldn’t believe my luck when she sat me down to talk to me that night. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t hoped her “needing to talk” had something to do with the two of us, but I can’t say I was disappointed when I found out what it was really about.

I learned a lot that evening over sandwiches and fries.

She opened up to me about the job she quit, and what it had been like to work with people who seemed to hate her. I learned how she ended up in Santa Rosé by flipping a coin, and how her first stop was the pier where she fell in love immediately. There were stories of her dad and her brothers, and I found out that her mother passed away when she was giving birth to Savanna, but that her family did a great job at making her feel like she knew her mom growing up.

The most interesting pieces of information were the ones she wouldn’t share with me.

Since the day we met in the elevator, I’ve never seen Savanna as someone who has a hard time talking with people or making friends. Everyone that has encountered her in my presence has been nearly as taken with her as I am, and yet that day in the hospital, she didn’t have anyone to call to pick her up. I’ve always thought that was strange, but I never pried because I figured if she wanted to tell me, she would.

The pieces started to come together last week when I point blank asked her if she was in trouble. It took me a minute to figure out her answer, and since then I’ve had a lot of time to think it through.

Based on the disgusting, filthy pigs comment, coupled with how affectionate and happy she looked when she talked about her family, I’ve deduced that it has to be an ex. That or she’s a gambling addict and hasn’t paid her debts. If I find her with a couple of broken legs, I’ll know it was my second theory.

I haven’t seen her in over twenty-four hours. In fact, I think we’re closer to the forty-eight-hour mark, and I’ve determined it’s far too long for my liking, even if we’ve exchanged a few texts and a couple of work-related phone calls.

Savanna had left this morning before I got home from my shift at the firehouse. I’d even forgone my usual breakfast with my mom just so I could see Savanna before she went in, so I was more than a little disappointed to find her up and gone. I don’t think she’s put in less than ten hours of work a day since she started last Sunday, but now it’s Friday evening and I’m cutting her off for the weekend. The last thing I need is for her to burn out.

There might also be a couple of selfish reasons I don’t want her to work all weekend.

Entering through the back, I’m whistling a tune as I nod at the guys working the kitchen tonight, and head straight for the office where I’m sure I’m going to find a beautiful blonde haired, gray eyed woman for whom I have a question. Not one of the guys says a word to me, though I feel their eyes following as I stride by.

I’m not wearing my usual faded jeans with a t-shirt tonight, so I’m sure that’s raising some eyebrows. Tonight I decided I needed to look my best if I wanted the best, so I threw on my darker denim jeans and a crisp black button down that I’ve been told makes my eyes stand out.

I’m not generally the type of guy that will dress up for much, preferring jeans and a t-shirt to anything, but I can clean up when it’s appropriate. I’m not ashamed to admit that Jordan and Bryn previously approved this outfit for a night out.

I feel alive. Exhilarated. The hope in my chest has grown over the last few days. I’ve found myself smiling and laughing more. I even put up with everyone poking at me about Savanna while I was at the firehouse. Liam even slapped me on the back and gave me a grin that said, “Hey man, glad to see you happy.”

I round the corner to the office and stop dead in my tracks. Savanna’s there, and while I know she’ll take my breath away the moment I give her my full attention, I’m floored by the state of my office.

I haven’t seen the desk or the floor in months, and both are currently devoid of anything. Against the far wall, boxes are stacked, and they’re all neatly labeled in Savanna’s flowy lettering, organized by the year and contents.

The filing cabinet doesn’t look like it has a speck of dust on it. In fact, nothing in the office does. There are also a couple of plants on top of the cabinet, and one sitting on the desk beside the computer monitor.

The place has been completely transformed since I saw it two nights ago, and I’m blown away. It looks amazing, but it’s not just the paperwork being organized and sorted, it’s that Savanna has walked in here and made it her own, which has warmth spreading from my chest outward.

“Wow,” I say, incredulous. It’s not enough to describe what I’m feeling, but I’m not sure there are words to do that.

My eyes land on the beautiful woman at the desk just in time to see her start at the sound of my voice. I smile as she brings her hand to her chest, her eyes darting to me, and I’m right—she does take my breath away.

Her blonde hair isn’t curled today, but lays straight and falls over her shoulders, touching the swell of her breasts where my eyes are drawn by the flutter of her hand. She’s wearing a black flowing top with tiny cutouts all along the neckline, right down to the top of her cleavage, her skin playing peek-a-boo through those little holes.

The top does what I’m sure it’s meant to, draw the eye there, and Christ, I’d love to stand here and stare for the rest of the night.

But I’m a man on a mission so I force my eyes back to hers as she laughs.

“You scared me,” she admits, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.