His Flame (SNOWFLAKE FALLS FIRE DEPARTMENT #1) by Jessa Joy EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Jessa Joy
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
MILA
My sister reaches in through the car window.
“What’s this?” I ask, taking the brown paper-wrapped package.
Ava smiles. “PB&J. You’re gonna be so busy, I bet you don’t get time to
make yourself something. And this is the extent of my catering skills. So
look grateful, okay?”
“You’re cute. And…thank you. Not just for the sandwich.”
“You mean the job? Well, you can count on me to keep up with town
gossip. My hairdresser said they were desperate to find a cook. Their new
chief of department used to make the guys food. Except now he can’t,
because he’s too busy. And that means even if you ruin everything, they
won’t get rid of you.”
I shake my head. “That’s not as reassuring as you make it sound. What
if I set the kitchen on fire?”
Ava giggles. “They’ll turn their big hoses on you.”
Rolling my eyes, I wag my finger at her. “Keep your mind out of the
gutter. I need to get going. Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need luck, sis. You were born for this. Remember to breathe.
Don’t be too shy to talk; they’re firefighters, not fire-breathing dragons.”
Smiling, I start my car, holding my breath and pumping the gas pedal
until the engine starts. I’ve been listening to a lot of 80s and 90s rock
recently and Guns N’ Roses blasts out of my speakers. The window stays
down, a warm breeze blowing in as I drive through the streets of Snowflake
Falls. Spring is in the air, with rosy flowers bursting from the cherry trees
lining the town square. I park at the back of the firehouse and sit there for a
minute as November Rain finishes.
The firehouse is a big, old-fashioned building made from red brick. I’ve
walked past it a few times since we arrived in town. Despite Ava’s pep talk,
I can’t really believe I’m doing this. I’m happiest alone in my kitchen,
dreaming up new recipes and leafing through my grandma’s cookbooks.
Give me a complicated recipe to replicate or a difficult ingredient to use and
I’m fine. But I tend to clam up when I meet new people. So the plan is that
I’m going to grit my teeth and wow them with my cooking. I need this job.
Relocating to this small town with my sister, my job options are limited.
I get out, filling up my little cart with the containers that have the premade dishes in them, plus the bag with ingredients for today’s supper. I’ve
agonized over this. How do you decide what hungry firefighters want to
eat? Are they all going to be waiting around the table holding their knives
and forks, looking at me with expectant expressions?
Oh jeez. Will I be expected to keep them entertained while I cook?
I wheel the cart around to the back door and knock. It opens and a tall,
pretty woman with curly red hair beams at me.
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