We Wish You a HappilyEver After (Ever After, #5) - Elena Aitken Page 0,2

standing in front of her notwithstanding.

“A fire?”

“In the oven.”

“In the—oh shit.” Her hand flew to her mouth as she realized exactly what had happened.

The frozen lasagna she’d popped in to heat up before running out to the store to get the garlic bread and salad so she could serve Papa a home-cooked meal. Or at least, a home-prepared meal.

The man in front of her chuckled. “I assume you had something to do with that?” He looked strangely relieved, even though there was nothing about the situation that called for relief.

She nodded and shook her head all at once.

Beside her, her grandfather had risen to his feet, a smile on his always friendly face. “You thought it was me again, didn’t you, Jeremy? Joke’s on you this time. I told you I’d be more careful.”

It took Bella a moment, but she stared at her grandfather. “What do you mean, again? Does this happen a lot? And…” She turned to the firefighter, who all of a sudden she was looking at in a new light. “Wait. Jeremy?”

There was no way.

“Jeremy Davis? Who I used to play hide-and-seek with when I came to visit?”

His handsome—and much more grown up than she remembered—face split into a smile. “More like hide-and-forget.” He nodded. “It’s good to see you, Bella. It’s been…what…ten years?”

“Thirteen.”

His eyes went round and he shook his head. “Wow. That long, hey?”

“My Bella here isn’t much for the mountains,” Papa said.

Even though she knew it hurt her grandfather that she hadn’t been to visit him, there was still so much pride and love in his voice. It only made her feel guiltier.

“Besides, you can’t become a famous singer in the middle of nowhere,” he continued. “The city has always been where she belongs.”

The twinge of guilt in her gut sharpened into a full-out pain.

“A singer, huh?” Jeremy gave her an appreciative look. “Your voice always was amazing. Good for you.”

“You remember?”

He grinned, his lips twitching up at the corner. “I remember a lot of things.”

Despite herself, a blush heated her chest, threatening to creep up her neck.

“If you two are done flapping your gums, can you leave me to my nap?” Papa broke the awkwardness, which a moment later only got more awkward when he added, “Bella, is that lasagna done yet?”

Jeremy lifted an eyebrow as his lips widened to a full-fledged grin. “Lasagna, huh? You might need different dinner plans.”

Bella took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “How about we chat in the kitchen?”

The last thing she needed was her grandfather thinking she wasn’t able to take care of things. Especially considering she’d been in town less than twenty-four hours and she was here to help him out over the holidays.

The moment she was in the kitchen and out of earshot, she spun around and slammed directly into a very hard chest. She’d expected him to follow her, but not that close. And she definitely hadn’t expected that kind of brick wall chest.

Then again, what did she have to base it on? A fourteen-year-old version of Jeremy Davis? Probably not a great comparison.

Bella took a step back and for the first time looked at her old friend properly.

His shoulders were massive—must be the jacket.

He was ridiculously tall—must be the boots.

And his chest—well, she already knew that felt like something chiseled out of stone.

No, he was definitely not the skinny, slightly goofy teenage boy she remembered.

Before she could say anything, Jeremy spoke. “Burton?”

She shrugged. “I decided to go with my mother’s maiden name. It has a nicer ring to it for my career.”

“Makes sense.” He nodded. “So, Bella Burton, it was you who started this fire?”

“What do you mean, this fire? Also, what actual fir—” The question died on her lips as her eyes landed on the blacked-out window of the oven door. “Oh.”

She turned back to Jeremy, who was nodding.

“I assume you had the oven too high or—”

“Shit.”

He cocked his head.

“I forgot to take the cardboard off the top.” Bella realized how it sounded as she said it. It couldn’t sound any other way. But still, she’d been in a hurry and that’s exactly what had happened. “I was distracted,” she said by way of explanation. “I was trying to…never mind.” She didn’t need to explain to this relative stranger that she’d been trying to impress her grandfather and do something nice for him, but was already running late when she showed up and in her haste had made a ridiculous mistake.

Her shoulders fell as she looked again at the