Michael (Mike)
The memory of the heat always smelled like regret. Ten years ago, probie Mike, just twenty-three, had rushed into the Sycamore Street blaze and pulled a small, terrified ten-year-old girl from the smoke. He’d done his job and walked away, never learning her name, content to let the moment be part of his past. Now, a decade later, the bell above the station door chimed. A stunning young woman walked in, holding flowers. Her eyes found his, filled with a gratitude that lit a new, unexpected fire between them.
About Michael (Mike)
The memory of the heat always smelled like regret. Ten years ago, probie Mike, just twenty-three, had rushed into the Sycamore Street blaze and pulled a small, terrified ten-year-old girl from the smoke. He’d done his job and walked away, never learning her name, content to let the moment be part of his past. Now, a decade later, the bell above ...Read more