“Can we not use the word ‘sexy’?” Jones objected. “Those girls are like my sisters. My family. They are not sex objects.”
“That’s the exact thing I like to hear,” Noah agreed. Even if he couldn’t make himself say he thought of Erin Hudgens in the sisterly way.
“They are objectively attractive. If one of them showed up here at my house naked and drunk…” Jones stopped, and it appeared Jefferson nudged Jones with his foot. “No… I would never ever take advantage, even if they were begging for it. It is a terrible decision to date inside the firehouse… or in the department at all.”
“Gentlemen,” Noah dragged himself away from watching them dance before he lost his self-control, “if this is the same type of discussion you’d have about your male teammates, it’s fine. I don’t expect choir boys. I expect respect.”
“Good, because I don’t want you to think I have plans to hit that, but hot is hot—boy, girl, cat,” Jones said. Jefferson kicked Jones in the shin this time, causing him to drop the notebook.
“Cat?” Noah didn’t quite follow his meaning.
“I’m an artist and impartial on the physical merits of a subject.” He indicated his notepad on the floor. The first sketch was his parents pointing their fingers at Jones. “Sorry about my family’s visit.”
“It’s not a big deal. Firehouses are families, including the weird parts.” Noah picked it up and flipped one page. Nowtherewas a solid depiction of Captain Williams… complete with horns and fangs.
And the phone number of a ‘Charlie.’
“Your work?” Noah asked. “It’s excellent.”
Jefferson cracked up. “She gave all three of them her number. We donated the money instead.”
“He means the sketch,” Jones said. “I can explain—”
“It’s hilarious.” Noah lifted the first page away to admire Williams’s angry, frothing, doom-face. “You did the team panorama in the office, too?”
“It was Captain Soto’s retirement gift. He decided to leave it here.”
“You did a great job, capturing the essence of everyone,” Noah complimented.
“Thanks, Chief.” Jones suddenly seemed uncomfortable speaking to Baker about aspects of his life not involving a hose and chanced putting his foot in his mouth again.
“May I?” Noah motioned to the notebook before turning more pages.
“All yours, sir. I have a million sketches.” Jones’s voice rose a few pitches, and he moved toward the stairs. “Oh, it’s almost ten. Time for bed, right, Theo?”
“Don’t you need the number?” Noah asked.
“Memorized it.” Jones evacuated the area.
It took a few more pages to see why he ran.
Page five was Noah himself. Jones had drawn him larger than life, wearing a haughty expression and crushing Captain Williams underfoot. The pictures following included Kormos and Rodriguez fighting a killer rabbit, Clarke and Knight playing tug of war, Jefferson in front of a blackboard with Carver in a dunce hat, and Hudgens in a Star Trek costume, balancing on a basketball.
Even in this quick scribble, she radiated her own brand of levity.
Under the guise of studying the sketches, he watched the women dance for a few more seconds since they seemed oblivious to their audience.
His heart turned over with a thump. Even being near her was difficult. There was something about her, a happiness, a joy, a lightness that she brought with her. There was nothing he wanted to do more than bridge the chasm between them. He’d been fighting it for months, and where had it gotten him?
Nowhere.
Miserable every time he saw her.
Unhappy when he tried to avoid her.
Jacen lived in misery. The man who had been a happy person in the prime of life now viewed the world as a long, endlessly bleak plain. No more sunshine; every day was the same overcast gray, a shadow of what he’d lost.
Was that Noah’s future? To pass up on these rare chances for happiness? Would he spend the rest of his life wondering what he’d missed? Would he be retiring in twenty years with a great career but an empty bed and house? Would he see this exquisite woman one day on someone else’s arm and curse himself for never trying?
