Page 15 of Shifting the Flame
The kitchen filled with the unmistakable scent of charred meat. When Asher lifted the lid, two blackened, smoking remnants stared back at them.
"Well, that was unfortunate." Danica bit her lip to keep from laughing.
Asher's shoulders slumped for a moment before he turned to face her. "I got distracted."
The admission sent a ridiculous flutter through Danica's stomach. She, Danica Ulrich, had distracted the Alpha dragon shifter enough to ruin dinner.
"I'm so sorry, Asher."
Instead of frustration, Asher's expression softened. He leaned against the counter, unveiling a dazzling smile that caused her chest to tighten.
"You should feel flattered," he said as his eyes traced her figure with unmistakable appreciation. "Between your brilliant festival ideas and that incredible body of yours, I didn't stand a chance."
Heat rushed to Danica's cheeks. She'd received compliments before—usually from clients trying to sweeten her up for discounts or men with fleeting interest—but Asher's sincerity and directness caught her completely off-guard.
"I..." she stuttered, cursing herself for the rare loss of composure. "Thank you."
Asher smiled wider, clearly pleased at her reaction. "I like making you blush." He reached for his phone. "Let me call Rosie's. Best café in town, and the owner owes me a favor."
Fifteen minutes later, they sat across from each other, surrounded by fragrant containers of crawfish étouffée and sweet cornbread. Danica savored the explosion of aromas.
"This is incredible," she moaned around a forkful. "No wonder your town stays hidden. If people knew about this food, you'd have tourists swarming."
"Speaking of the town," Asher said, spreading out their planning notes beside their plates. "I've been thinking about those LED fairy lights you mentioned."
Danica perked up. "Really?"
"They could work strung across the tent ceilings," he conceded, tracing a pattern on the sketch. "And I suppose a few jewel-toned tents mixed with our traditional white ones would create visual interest."
Danica couldn't hide her surprise. The stubborn, traditional man from earlier was transforming even further before her eyes. "What happened to 'that's not how we've always done it'?"
"I'm not completely inflexible," he countered, his green eyes sparking with challenge. "But the town emblem stays prominently displayed around the festival, and we keep the ancestral fire ring lighting ceremony intact."
"Deal," she agreed immediately. "I'd never want to erase your heritage. Just enhance the experience."
As they ate, they continued refining ideas, creating a vision that honored tradition while embracing innovation. Asher's willingness to meet her halfway stirred something deep in Danica's chest. Most clients either surrendered completely to her vision or fought her every step of the way. This collaboration felt different—balanced.
Their hands brushed as they both reached for the same sketch, and electricity jolted through her fingertips. Instead of pulling away, Asher's fingers lingered over hers, warm and steady. Danica froze, suddenly forgetting how breathing worked.
"I think we make an excellent team," he murmured, making no move to break contact.
"We do," she managed, her pulse thundering in her ears. What was happening to her? She'd met attractive men before, especially working with powerful executives and charming celebrities. But none had affected her like Asher.
They moved to his office, where stacks of planning notes gave way to their sprawling ideas. As midnight approached, their conversation flowed between the festival plans and her memorable event planning stories. Each accidental touch lingered longer than the last.
"Your creativity is extraordinary," Asher said, leaning close to examine her updated festival layout sketch. His shoulder pressed against hers, radiating heat. "You see possibilities where others see limitations."
Danica's body hummed with awareness. "And I admire your dedication to your people. The way you honor your ancestors while protecting their future—it's remarkable."
Their hands collided again, and this time, neither pretended it was accidental. Asher's fingers intertwined with hers, his thumb tracing patterns on her wrist that sent shivers up her spine.
"Danica," he whispered, her name sounding sacred in his deep voice.
She met his gaze, drowning in those forest-green eyes. Her heart thundered in her chest as she fought the overwhelming urge to close the distance between them. This intensity defied logic—they'd just met this morning, for heaven's sake—yet felt as natural as breathing.
His gaze dropped to her lips, and Danica's entire body tensed with anticipation. The practical voice in her head screamed about professionalism and rushing in, but her body refused to listen, leaning imperceptibly closer.
Suddenly, the large grandfather clock chimed loudly, breaking the spell they were momentarily under. Danica jerked back, blinking rapidly as if waking from a dream.
