Meghan’s P.O.V.
I had just flipped the sign to Closed and was wiping down the last of the tables, savoring the warm scent of vanilla and cinnamon that lingered in the air, when the bakery doorbell chimed. With a sigh, I turned around, already knowing who I would see. Blade leaned casually against the door frame, still in his uniform from the fire station. His black t-shirt with the firehouse logo clung to his chest, and the hint of soot on his forearms added a rugged edge that, admittedly, wasn’t easy to ignore. I forced myself to look unimpressed instead of wanting to drool all over the man.
“Blade, don’t you have somewhere else to be? Like, I don’t know, a building to rescue from flames or a forest fire to douse?”
Blade grinned, closing the door behind him.
“Actually, I’ve done plen
