Cabin Fever With My First Flame

I’m a chef who can handle the heat. He’s a firefighter that can douse a flame. But when sparks reignite between us and old fires begin to burn, dialing 9-1-1 is the last thing on my mind.

After my divorce, I got the better end of the deal with three sassy daughters, my food truck, and what was left in the bank account.

Two hundred dollars doesn’t go far, but it got me three tanks of gas and a fresh start. The problem is, I needed four.

Being stranded on the side of the road isn’t the end of the world, unless it’s during a blizzard and we’re rescued by the one person I never wanted to see again.

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