HIS TOUCH, HER FIREđ„ Chapter Seven â âThe Devil You KnowâThe sirens came too late.Evelyn stood in the yard barefoot, jaw locked, blood on her palms from shattered glass. Her ears still rang. Her boots lay discarded by the porch steps, and her heart hadnât slowed since the shots were fired. Damien stood beside her, phone pressed to his ear, voice clipped and low as he barked instructions to someone on the other end. His jaw was tight, his shirt streaked with ash and sweat, and his eyes scanned the darkness like it might strike again.The police showed up with all the urgency of men who didnât believe country girls could be targets. Flashlights. Polite questions. Hollow promises.âYouâre saying someone shot at you?â the older officer asked, chewing gum with a drawl.âNo,â Evelyn bit out, her arms crossed. âIâm saying someone tried to kill me. There's a difference.âThe officer blinked at her tone, then scribbled something in his notepad like it mattered. Damien stayed close but sile
HIS TOUCH, HER FIREđ„ --- Chapter Six â âWhat the Fire Left Behindâ The door clicked shut, and Evelyn stood frozen on the other side, her hand still gripping the handle like it might turn back time. Her breath left in shallow bursts, eyes stinging as the weight of what she'd just done pressed down on her chest. She hadnât just shut him out. She had carved a line in fire between themâand for once, it didnât make her feel powerful. Outside, she heard nothing. Not the engine. Not his footsteps. Not even the wind. But she knew he was still there. She could feel it, a presence lingering like the scent of burnt sugar and gasoline. Dangerous. Bitter. Sweet. She pressed her back against the door, slid down to the floor, and stared at the ceiling like it held answers. But all it held was silence. And she hated silence. It made space for thoughts. And tonight, hers were spiraling. When the quiet grew too thick, she rose to her feet, marched to the back porch, and stared into the darkne
HIS TOUCH, HER FIREđ„---Chapter FiveSomething You Shouldnât WantThe wind picked up as Evelyn rode the ATV across the far fields, her fingers clenched tight on the grips, her braid snapping behind her like a whip. The Romano name was all over her brain like a stain she couldnât scrub out. Not just Damien anymoreâbut all of them. Luca had sent her a link to some sleek app design mock-up âin case she ever wanted to digitize the ranch,â and Dante had casually shown up at the farmerâs co-op talking gym memberships and local partnerships like he belonged. It was calculated. It was charming. It was suffocating. But it was Damien who got under her skin the most. Always him. Always that look like he could see her without her ever opening her mouth. It had been days since the town incident, but she could still feel his words echoing inside herâYou donât need anyone. And thatâs your tragedy.By the time she reached the fence, her head was buzzing and her throat was tight. She had work to do,
HIS TOUCH, HER FIREđ„---Chapter FourThe Heat Behind the NameEvelyn shouldâve known better than to accept a dance from Damien Romano. Because one dance turned into two. And two turned into a smoldering silence between them that stretched all the way to the parking lot and lit her thoughts on fire long after she slammed her truck door shut.Three days later, she found him againâon her land.She heard the engine first, a sleek European purr that didnât belong anywhere near dust or cattle. When she stepped out from the barn, he was already out of the car, wearing navy slacks, a button-down she could smell the cologne from, and a smug grin like he was waiting for applause.âYou lost?â she asked, arms crossed, boots planted.âNot at all,â he said, glancing around like heâd just bought the view. âJust admiring the scenery.ââYouâve got ten seconds to stop trespassing before I show you what country girls do to uninvited guests.âHe laughed. âWhat, hit me with a rake?âShe stepped forward,
HIS TOUCH, HER FIREđ„---Chapter ThreeShadows in the LightBy midday, Evelyn was knee-deep in the far pasture, boots caked with mud and sweat sliding down her spine beneath the thin cotton of her tank top. The early May sun blazed high, unforgiving, and every muscle in her body ached from the morningâs work. The fencing on the west ridge had collapsed againâlikely due to the storm last weekâand her herd had been curious enough to start testing boundaries. Rebellion ran through her cattle like it ran through her blood.âDamn it, Diesel, get back!â she shouted, swinging her hat at the bull as he lumbered toward the broken section, nostrils flaring. âI swear, youâve got more stubborn pride than I do.ââYou talk to them like they understand you,â came a teasing voice behind her, warm and familiar.Evelyn turned to find her best friend, Marla, striding across the field in denim overalls, a feed bucket in one hand and a grin that had known her since second grade. Marlaâs short curls were
HIS TOUCH, HER FIREđ„---Chapter TwoThe Warning Beneath the SuitThe morning sun barely filtered through the thin curtains of Evelynâs kitchen window, casting long strips of pale gold across the old wood floor. She stood barefoot on the chilled boards, coffee in hand, hair unbrushed, shirt borrowed from her late fatherâfaded red plaid hanging off one shoulderâand tried to ignore the storm rising in her gut. Last nightâs encounter with Damien Romano had not just left her rattled; it had torn something loose inside her. Something dangerous. The man had stepped onto her land like he belonged, like the dirt itself bent beneath his polished shoes, and then heâd spoken with a calm so soaked in arrogance it had made her see red. But it was his eyes that haunted herâsilver, unreadable, like moonlight over deep water, hiding the depths beneath. He didnât just want her land. He wanted control. And maybe... something more. She hated herself for the heat his presence had ignited in her. It had