Work hard. Family first. Protect your heart.
They’re the three rules Eva Storey has lived by, ever since that one terrible night in her past. That one terrible night when Eva lost everyone she loved.
And it was all. Her. Fault.
Now, Eva spends her days working hard on the Storey Family vineyard, and on keeping her secret from everyone in town. She doesn’t have time for Bindarra Creek’s sexy new firefighter or his rigorous back-burning. And she definitely doesn’t have time to fall in love.
When sparks fly between the strong-willed couple, Eva’s deadly secret comes tumbling out. Will their fiery passion be enough to overcome her charred past?
It’s fire season, baby, and Eva’s going to get burned.
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About the Author:
Lauren K. McKellar is a writer and editor of fact and fiction. She has worked in publishing for more than eight years, and recently returned to her first love: writing books that make you feel.
Lauren loves to write for the Young and New Adult markets, and blogs with Aussie Owned and Read, as well as vlogging with the YA Rebels.
In her free time, Lauren enjoys long walks on the beach with her two super-cute dogs and her partner-in-crime/fiancé.
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I charged back up the aisle to the counter, rounding it at the front and—
Ran straight into a very hard, very familiar chest.
“Sorry.” I gasped. My eyes remained fixed on the green tiled floor. My breath remained somewhere stuck in my throat.
“It’s okay.” Warm hands cupped my shoulders, and every muscle in my body tensed. He stole all the air in the store. Stifling heat trapped me, and when his gentle fingers came to rest under my chin, pushing my head up to look him in the eye, I didn't look. I couldn’t look.
“Eva …” He asked permission when he said my name. So kind. So gentle.
Zac McGuire had always been kind and gentle.
Except for that one time.
“Y … you’re s’posed to be at the house.” My voice shook its way over the words.
“Ran out of petrol for the ride-on, and I thought I’d grab a new spark plug while I was here.” He inhaled, and when he breathed out, the air was sweet. Like sun-kissed tomatoes. Like a sugary drink on a long, hot afternoon. Like holding hands and running under the sprinkler.
Like summers long gone that would never be good again.
His hand nudged my chin again, and I looked up. A startling blue looked back at me.
It was too much.
The box with the light bulb thudded as it hit the floor. My hands pushed at his chest and I ran past him, past a stunned Callie-May, then rushed out the doors and slammed into my car. I jerked the door open, and my shaky hands fumbled, turning the key.
“Please, please,” I begged, desperate for the car to start, desperate to get away.
“Eva!” Zac called from the door of the store. He took one, two, three steps toward me, and the car finally roared to life. My foot hit the accelerator and I barrelled down Mount Ingalls Road toward the vineyard. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, I was fairly sure the soldier in the centre of the roundabout watched me as I made my escape, those hard eyes full of judgment.
I might not have been good at making friends.
But one thing I was good at was running. I’d been doing it the last three years of my life.
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