I was young when I met Brianne. She was everything I wanted in a woman, driven and confident, not to mention older and more experienced. Let's just say she wasn't shy and awkward in bed.

Don't get me wrong. I wasn't some stupid teen carving "Jordan + Brianne" on a tree, but she was my first experience with a passionate, self-assured woman.

Then she dumped me. I never stopped loving her, not really, which made me both curse and bless fate the night my fire station responded to a fire and I found her inside.

There was another surprise though: a young boy. I couldn't help but notice he looks a lot like me, and he's young enough that he would have been born shortly after I broke up with Brianne.

There's no way I could have a son and not know, though. That's totally ridiculous. Right?

The whole thing wouldn't be so bad if I still didn't want Brianne so badly. Oh, and there's the little complication of her being accused of arson.

Well, damn. Nobody ever said love was easy.