The Wild Fire: A Small Town Second Chance Romance, page 1
THE WILD FIRE
A SMALL TOWN SECOND CHANCE ROMANCE
CASSIE-ANN L. MILLER
CONTENTS
Stories by Cassie-Ann L. Miller
About “The Wild Fire”
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Epilogue
So, what to read now…?
Dirty Cameos & Easter Eggs
The Wildfire (A Small Town Second Chance Romance)
Copyright © 2023 Cassie-Ann L. Miller
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents appearing therein are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be interpreted as real. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status of the various products referenced in this work.
Amazon’s Kindle Store is the only authorized distributor of this ebook. If you have downloaded or purchased it from any other distributor, please note that you have received an illegal copy. This not only violates the author’s copyright, deprives the author of royalties due and puts the book at risk of being removed from Kindle distribution, but it also exposes you to computer viruses, theft of your personal information by book pirates and potential legal prosecution.
Photo credit: Wander Aguiar
Model: James
18052023/2
Created with Vellum
STORIES BY CASSIE-ANN L. MILLER
The Wild Westbrooks
The Wild Side
The Wild One
The Wild Card
The Wild Fire
Mason Westbrook’s story (TBD)
The Playboys of Sin Valley
Playing House
Playing Pretend
Playing Along
Playing Rough
Playing Loose
Bad Boys in Love Series
Mister Billions
Mister Baller
Mister Baby Daddy
Mister Bossy
The Blue Collar Bachelors Series
Lover Boy
Play Boy
Bad Boy
Hot Boy
Rich Boy
Dream Boy
The Dirty Suburbs Series
Dirty Neighbor
Dirty Player
Dirty Stranger
Dirty Favor
Dirty Lover
Dirty Farmer
Dirty Silver
Dirty Forever
Dirty Christmas
The Esquire Girls Series
Amber’s Story
Amber Nights (Amber – Books 1, 2, 3 & 4)
Madison’s Story
For Madison, Always (Madison – Books 1, 2, 3 & 4)
Ruthie’s Story
Ruthie’s Desire (Ruthie – Books 1, 2, 3 & 4)
Hailey’s story
Moments with Hailey (Hailey - Books 1, 2, 3 & 4)
Esquire HEAT Series
A Very Eager Intern
A Very Frustrated Attorney
Standalone Novel
Happy New You
ABOUT “THE WILD FIRE”
Me and my hot ex-husband. Alone. In a cabin in the woods. With one tiny bed.
Once upon a time, Davis Westbrook was my small town fairytale.
We fell in love at 16. Married at 21.
High school sweethearts destined for forever.
Then in one cruel moment, fate stormed in, knocked over our white picket fence and stole our happy ever after.
Davis and I moved on with separate lives.
I run the local veterinary clinic.
He is Honey Hill’s hot-as-hell chief deputy sheriff.
And we’re nothing but cordial exes, ‘politely keeping our distance’ around town.
But four years later, fate is laughing at us again.
My best friend is marrying Davis’s brother.
Which means, I’m the maid of honor. And my ex-husband is the best man.
No biggie. We can handle this.
We’re pros at the whole ‘keeping our distance’ thing. Right?
Not so fast.
We get caught in a violent rainstorm on the way to the destination wedding.
Now, instead of ‘politely keeping our distance’ at the wedding venue, we’re stuck at a tiny cabin in the woods.
With one tiny bed.
As if that isn’t awkward enough, we have to pretend to be a happily married couple just to keep the roof over our heads.
Dammit. Fate is pulling strings again.
I was sure the spark between us would be gone by now.
Oh, I was so very wrong.
The minute our lips touch, our souls are on fire and we’re drowning in the flames.
Turns out—this thing between us isn’t just a spark. It’s a freaking wildfire.
And when our secret comes out...it’s going to burn our hometown to the ground.
The Wild Fire is a steamy, laugh-out-loud, small town second chance romance. It is set in small town Iowa and is book four in the Wild Westbrooks series.
PROLOGUE
DAVIS
I hop out of my Jeep. Race up the dark driveway. Fling the front door open with a flourish.
Not sure the wide grin on my face will fit through this doorframe, though.
Shit—I’m so excited.
“Allie!” I shout, craning my neck down the hallway.
I’ve got the paperwork clenched in one hand. A bottle of Alana’s favorite wine in the other.
Kicking off my shoes on the doormat, I poke my head into the living room. “Babe, I’m home.”
This day went on forever. It was hell getting through my shift at the police station with this big news weighing on my chest. Pretending like it was just any other Thursday. All while knowing that today, I took the first step. The first step toward realizing a dream Alana and I have dreamed together for so long.
I’ve been keeping this information to myself all day, not telling a soul. And by now, I’m about ready to burst.
“Allie—where are you, Princess?”
My brothers are gonna make such a big deal about this. I can already imagine Cash, Jasper, Harry and our cousin, Mason, throwing me a damn parade—marching band and carnival floats and everything—once they find out. I’ve been talking their ears off about this for years. Now, I’m finally putting my plan into motion.
And Nicky? I fully expect my bossy little sister to have a detailed plan of action all mapped out within the next twenty-four hours.
Grammy will be shouting about it to any and everyone who steps foot inside her bakery. And maybe, just maybe, my divorced parents will stop hating each other for long enough to be proud of me.
But I can’t tell anyone. Not before I tell her. My wife has to be the first to know.
Because we laid awake together on countless nights, talking about this, planning for this. We’ve dreamed about it for the past six years.
True—it started out as just a joke, a fleeting comment whispered in the dark, a tiny idea that could never really go anywhere. At least, that’s the way I saw it.
But as always, Alana saw more in me than I saw in myself. And god knows, that woman could get me on board with just about anything.
Now, here we are. Finally.
I glance down at the papers clenched in my hand. Mayoral Candidate Declaration Form, the first sheet reads. My grin grows wider.
“Alana, babe.”
My chest is thumping hard. My fingers are buzzing with excitement. I take the stairs two at a time, expecting to find Alana sitting, legs criss-crossed on the ratty rug at the foot of our bed, chunky headphones on, with her glue and her scissors and one of those colorful scrapbooks where she catalogues all of our memories and our goals.
Or asleep in our bed, looking adorable in one of my Honey Hill Sheriff’s Department T-shirts with her golden bangs curtaining her eyes and her glasses crooked on her button nose and yet another bargain bin self-help book splayed across her chest.
I chuckle to myself. She’d better enjoy her power nap while she can. She’s gonna need her energy. Because we’re not getting any sleep tonight.
We’re gonna sit together and read through these papers word by word. And then, I’m gonna make love to her until the sun comes up.
But when I burst into our bedroom, the bed is empty and the sheets are perfectly made, with the quilt Grammy gave us folded at the foot of the mattress.
Confused, I barrel into the adjoining bathroom. No sign of her there, either.
A bad feeling begins as an ominous tingle in my toes. It starts a slow-climb up my legs.
My gaze hooks on the closet door that’s slightly ajar. That’s when I notice the empty hangers scattered on the floor. That’s when I notice that her suitcase—the small pink one with the floral pattern across the front—is gone.
Panic surges and my mind starts racing. I drop the papers and the wine bottle to the floor. My hand dives into my pocket, desperately searching for my phone.
My fingers shake as I tap the screen to dial her number. The phone seems to ring for an eternity until her voicemail picks up.
What the fuck?!
That feeling of dread grips my gut like a fist. Anxiety presses and squeezes on my windpipe like spindly fingers wrapping around my throat.
I race through the dark house, down the stairs, into the kitchen. There’s a note on the counter, sitting next to a half-melted tub of strawberry swirl ice cream and a pile of soggy, crumpled up tissues.
I pick up the sheet of paper and stare down at the wobbly script that vaguely resembles Alana’s usually neat handwriting.
The words scribbled across that makeup-smudged sheet of notebook paper slice my soul right down the middle.
Those words are the beginning of the end.
I need space to think.
1
ALANA
Four years later…
“Come on now, Miss Twinkles,” I coo softly. “Don’t be mad at me. I know you don’t like needles but that shot I gave you was only to keep you healthy.”
In response, the grumpy Persian cat seated in my lap swats a paw at my face.
Laughing quietly, I offer the cat a colorful plush toy and gently coax her through the gate of the kennel where we’ll be boarding her for the next few days while her owners are away. “Okay, fine. Be like that.” I give her a quick scratch behind her ears before she takes another swipe at me.
Geez Louise. Such an attitude on this girl.
“Weren’t you planning to leave before five?”
Startled, I glance over my back. I find my veterinary technician’s very worried face poking through the doorway. Wide eyes and pinched forehead and twitching nostrils. Eep!
When my gaze darts to my watch, I bolt up from the floor where I’m sitting. “Crap! Sorry, sorry, sorry!” I say in a rush as I quickly wiggle out of my lab coat and toss it on the hook behind the door. “Sorry, Megs…” I mutter again, planting a big smooch on her cheek as I shimmy past Meghan.
I hustle down the hallway of the small veterinary clinic.
“Bye, Darcy! You’re locking up tonight, right, Maxine?” I zoom around the front desk where our receptionists are checking out our last furry, four-legged patients of the day.
“On it, Doc.”
I toe off my comfy work Crocs, slip into my rubber boots and grab my umbrella. “Did you double-check with Dr. Stevens about—”
“He promised to cover all your patient appointments while you’re away."
“And we’re gonna need a new order of medical gloves and—”
“Delivery’s scheduled for Thursday.”
“Also, Barbara should be back from vacation by next—”
“She’ll be back on Monday.”
Taking one moment to myself, I straighten and suck in a long breath. “Wow. I’m working myself into a frenzy here,” I say with an embarrassed laugh.
“You really are.” Maxine snickers, looking up from her computer and sliding her reading glasses into her hair.
“We’ve got everything under control,” Darcy assures me as I shrug into my short, puffy coat. “I know it’s hard taking time off but don’t worry. We’ve got ya covered, Doc.”
“Thanks, ladies.”
Sometimes it feels like just yesterday that I started as an intern at this animal clinic here at Honey Hill’s medical center. Today, I’m a part-owner of the place and I operate it alongside two other doctors and a small staff. I do get a tad overprotective about my career. After the way I tore my life to shreds four years ago, sometimes, it feels like this place is all I have left.
I pause to squat down and pet a sweet old sheepdog. He’s looking about as tired as I feel after this long, exhausting day. “Hang in there, Marley.” I peer up at the dog’s owners. “Remember. Twice a day on those drops.”
The adorable elderly couple smiles at me. “Thanks so much, Dr. Westbrook,” old Mr. Goodwin says.
His wife nods with relief, leaning her weight on her walking stick. “He’s already looking more like himself,” she tells me.
I wave goodbye to everyone but I don’t make it far before Meghan catches me at the door. “Alana! You forgot your purse.” She comes jogging in my direction, her blonde ponytail swinging behind her.
I smack my forehead. “Geez. Thank you.”
She smiles back at me but traces of worry strain her expression. “Thank you. I know you’re busy. And you’re only trying to fit all this in for me.”
“And I’m happy to do it, Megs.” I give her shoulder a quick squeeze. “I mean—this is your wedding we’re talking about!” I clutch her in a suffocating hug. When she squawks in protest, I just laugh and hug her tighter.
I don’t have to worry about any touchy feely lawsuits, because my vet tech doubles as my lifelong bestie, Meghan Hutchins. Soon-to-be-Westbrook.
Meghan’s wedding to Cash is only a few days away. Oh my gosh, this is so exciting! Helping her prepare for her big day takes me back. Way back. Ten years to be exact.
I was only twenty one, but I remember it so clearly. In the frantic days leading up to my own wedding to Davis Westbrook, I was just as nervous and giddy and overwhelmed as Meghan is now.
The roles were reversed back then. I was the anxious bride and Meghan was my maid of honor, at my side and keeping me sane the whole way through.
Unfortunately, not all weddings come with a built-in fairytale ending. Davis and I didn’t work out. We didn’t even make it to our seventh anniversary.
Regret bubbles up my throat. It tastes a lot like heartburn. I push it back down.
Whenever those feelings try to resurface, I remind myself that Davis and I were never going to work out in the long term. We were young, starry-eyed high school sweethearts. Completely disconnected from reality. Too naive to see the truth that was staring us right in the face. Davis was Honey Hill royalty. And I was just…me.
The odds were stacked against us from the beginning. It’s just too bad I didn’t accept that sooner, before we both experienced so much pain.
