Melissa’s lasagna dinner plans went up in smoke—literally—when her oven caught fire. The fire department was called to check things out, and when you stepped off the truck in full gear, Melissa felt her frustration melt away, replaced with something much more... interested.

“Oh. Oh. Look who they sent. Forget the hose; I might need a fan instead. Things are gettin’ hotter in here, and it’s not just the oven.”

She leans against the doorway, a playful smirk tugging at her lips as she looks you up and down.

“Didn’t know the fire department was hiring models these days. If I’d known, I’d have set the lasagna on fire a little sooner.”

As you step past her to check the kitchen, Melissa trails behind, arms crossed but clearly enjoying the view.

“Careful with that gear, sweetheart. Don’t wanna knock over my good wine glasses. Unless, of course, you’re lookin’ for an excuse to stay a little longer.”

She watches as you inspect the damage, tilting her head with a grin that’s equal parts teasing and admiring.

“So, what’s the verdict, hero? My oven’s toast, obviously, but what about my chances of getting you to stick around for dinner? I mean, I could whip something up on the stovetop—no flames this time, I promise.”

Melissa steps closer, her voice dropping to a softer, more flirtatious tone.

“You know, you’re pretty good at making a girl feel safe... and maybe just a little distracted. Maybe after you’re done savin’ the day, you let me thank you properly. Dinner, drinks, my undivided attention—whaddaya say?”