do it,” she said. “I won’t let the meanie town ladies hurt you. I just want to be married to you tomorrow.”
Using every ounce of self-control he had, Tanner forced himself to ease Bree back down onto her feet and step away from her.
Two more weeks. He wanted to do this right. Wanted the next time they made love to be as husband and wife.
“We will get married. But in the church in front of all our family and friends, the way it should be. The way you deserve. I want everyone in this county—hell, the entire state—to know that you are who I very proudly choose as my wife. I don’t want there to be any mistake about that, no rumored whispers that might accompany a quick trip to the judge.”
She genuinely looked disappointed. “Fine.”
He chuckled. “The wedding won’t be as bad as you think.”
“For you, maybe. You don’t have to wear the scratchy white netting stuff.”
“Tulle?”
“Damn it, how does everyone know the name of that material except me?”
He reached over and kissed her again. “You wear tulle for me for just a few hours and then you never have to wear it again.”
“Promise?” she whispered.
“Absolutely. As a matter of fact, after we’re married, I’m going to do my best to make sure you spend as much time as possible wearing nothing at all.”
Damn Tanner and his smooth talking. Five hours after he left, Bree still couldn’t sleep.
Part of it was being wound up from their heavy make-out session against the wall. The other part was the fact that she hadn’t been able to talk him into going before the judge, so those damn vows were still coming up and she had no idea what she was going to say.
I will love you forever and always my whole life, you and no one else.
Yeah, that was perfect.
If she was looking for complete stupidity meets Braveheart.
Bree punched the pillow beside her. Why were emotions so hard for her? Why did there seem to be so many variables that she had to take into consideration when writing these vows?
And why couldn’t she get any sleep?
A few minutes later she finally just gave up and decided to go work in her office at the New Journeys building. Sitting at her own desk with her computer would at least be more familiar. And it had to be more useful than lying here tossing and turning in bed.
Twenty minutes later, dressed in a sweatshirt and yoga pants, she discovered that staring at a blank screen on her computer in her office was, in fact, just as bad as tossing and turning in bed.
She had nothing.
What the hell was she supposed to say to explain to the man she loved that she loved him?
Wasn’t actually getting married enough of a declaration?
And the tulle? Wasn’t tulle enough of a declaration of love, for heaven’s sake? A solemn description of what agonies she was willing to bear for him?
When no other words or ideas came to her, she did the only thing she knew how to do: she opened her browser and began coding. Within fifteen minutes she had a program written that would automatically filter every mention of wedding vows from the internet and into a folder. She may not be able to write these vows herself but she could at least research—
She froze, head spinning to the side as something caught her peripheral vision on one of the black-and-white monitors on the table in the corner. What the heck was that?
Those monitors were set to the cameras recording the section of the building that hadn’t been remodeled yet. Bree and Cassandra had installed them after some town teenagers were caught having a little rowdy fun back there. Bree had written a quick program that caused the cameras only to record if motion was detected.
Evidently motion had been detected.
Bree’s fingers flew across the keyboard so she could bring up the footage on her computer monitor, which provided a much larger and clearer picture of the uninhabited area. Except the picture wasn’t much clearer. It took her a moment to realize it wasn’t because of a problem with her computer, but because the room was full of smoke.
The building was on fire.
Bree grabbed the phone on her desk and dialed 911.
“Grand County emergency services. You’ve reached 911. What’s your emergency?”
“Debbie, it’s Bree Daniels.” Recognizing the 911 operator was definitely one of the perks of living in a small town. “There’s a fire at New Journeys. Not in the main section, thank God, but it might spread. Send the fire trucks around to the back to the section that hasn’t been renovated yet. I’m going to see if I can get it under control with the fire extinguisher.”
“Now wait a minute, Bree. You need to stay on the line with me so we can direct the first responder—”
Bree didn’t wait for Debbie to finish her sentence. The woman had lived in Risk Peak her whole life. She knew exactly where to send the first responders.
Bree grabbed the fire extinguisher in the corner of her office and dashed out into the hall, yanking down the fire alarm. Her office was on the opposite end of the housing area—uniquely situated between the residential space and the area that hadn’t been renovated. Pulling the alarm would be the quickest way to get everyone out without having to run down to the living quarters herself.
Because maybe she could stop this whole thing before it got out of hand.
Once the alarm was blaring, she dashed back into her office and out the door on the other side that took her into the section of the building where the fire was located. She started in a sprint down the hall to the room where the motion had triggered the camera, but soon slowed. Already smoke was starting to fill the hallway.
The farther down the hall Bree went, the thicker the smoke became. Would she be able to put out a blaze making this much smoke with a single fire extinguisher? She had to try.
She heard some sort of screeching noise ahead of her and started to run again, coughing as she took in more smoke. Was somebody trapped back here? Teenagers fooling around again who accidentally started a fire and got trapped?
She turned the corner and dropped low in the thick smoke, crawling forward now. It almost sounded like someone was calling her name, but she couldn’t tell from where. The smoke and her own coughing had her disoriented already, and that screeching noise was growing louder.
Someone had to be trapped in there. She pushed forward faster.
Extinguisher in one hand, she reached for the door handle with the other and let out a shriek when an arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her off her knees, spinning her around.
“Oh, no you don’t,” a voice said in her ear. “You’re not getting out of the tulle that easily.”
“Tanner.” His name came out in a relieved cough. “There’s a fire. I heard a noise and I think someone was calling my name. It’s behind that door.”
“That was me calling your name. We’ve got to go.”
She gestured toward the door. “But what about the noise? There may be someone trapped in there.”
The screeching noise got higher and louder and Tanner muttered a curse under his breath, tucking his arm around her and launching her toward the corner. They just made it around and she was about to argue her case again when a thundering explosion roared from where