Fighting the Flames Within

Playing with fire never felt so awkward . . . or so good.

One minute I was covering a routine car accident for the paper. The next, I was staring up-way up-at the broadest shoulders I'd ever seen. Dane looked like he'd been carved out of granite . . . if granite could smirk and smell faintly of smoke and danger.

When my editor decided I should shadow him for a "day in the life" article, I figured it would be easy. Take notes. Snap a few photos. Try not to drool. Instead, I found myself dangli...