The Grumpy Fire Chief's Holiday Romance

My fresh start came with a dented U-Haul, a stranger's ruined tailgate, and one very furious fire chief.
And a season he has zero plans to survive out loud.

One look at that jaw, that scar he keeps covered even in summer, and I forgot every reason I had for leaving Denver.
He wrote me an incident report instead of walking away.
Six-foot-three of quiet, immovable calm.
Hands steady enough to run into a burning building and still not spill his coffee.

The man runs on fire code, black coffee, and about four unspoken rules.
He told me the holidays were just another shift.
I decorated his whole town anyway.

But wait.

His ex-fiancée is flying in for her cousin's wedding, and she knows exactly which door in him I still haven't found the key to.

He does not do garland. He does not do string lights. He does not, under any circumstances, discuss the twenty third.
He just shows up before I ask, fixes what I've broken, and never once asks for the credit.
The way he looked at me under the half-strung tree lights and said my name like it cost him something to say it. I did not look away.

He was not surprised.
This silent, grumpy, grieving man is tearing down every wall I built the night I found out my fiancé loved somebody else.

He says loving someone means eventually losing them.
He says there are anniversaries you just survive.

But the fire that's supposed to end everything might be the only thing left that can finally make him choose me, and I am done being the woman who leaves before she gets left.

The Grumpy Fire Chief's Holiday Romance is a steamy standalone small-town holiday romance with a slow-burn grump, a heroine who saves herself, a wounded hero worth the wait, a scene-stealing rescue dog, and a guaranteed happily-ever-after. No cheating. No cliffhangers.