“This conversation is way too fucking emotional,” I grunt, picking up my half finished beer and chugging the rest.
He chuckles. “Who says firefighters don’t have feelings?”
“Not anyone I know,” Carter remarks as he interrupts the conversation.
“Emanuel, you’ve met my fiancée, Michelle,” he introduces.
“Please don’t stand for me,” Michelle insists, waving me off as I began to rise.
“Good to see you again, Chaos.”
We all laugh at my old nickname.
“How’s Rescue Four treating you so far?” she inquires as she shifts down the inside of the booth, Carter taking his position on the outside and wrapping an arm around her.
“I haven’t had to kick anyone’s ass so far.”
“Watch your mouth. You’re in the presence of a woman,” Carter growls.
Sean and I glance at each other and bust out laughing. I’d been told on more than one occasion how overprotective he was of his woman.
Speaking of which…
My gaze goes to the door again, and I sit up straighter when I see Janine coming through the door. Not even bothering to end the conversation, or explain my necessary absence to the rest of the table, I stand and make a beeline for the door.
I head toward her slowly, letting Janine greet Angela who’s behind the bar serving drinks.
“Thanks for the invite. I’m feeling a little less stressed already.” I hear her sigh as she removes the bomber jacket.
“Good. Let’s see if we can move that process along. What’re you drinking?” Angela questions.
“How about a mojito?” I intercept. I’m pleased when Janine gasps as she turns to me. I grin before glancing at Angela. “Why don’t you make it two mojitos?” I look back to Janine. “For old times’ sake.”
“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” she says.
“I knew you would be.”
Her perfectly arched eyebrows dip as she gives me a curious look. “How’d you know?”
I glance at Angela, who is at the farther end of the bar retrieving the mixes for our drinks. “Who do you think requested Angela to call you?”
A surprised then angry expression covers her face. “She didn’t …”
“You’re sexy as hell when you’re pissed.”
That seems to take some of the wind out of her angered sails. At that same moment Angela returns with our drinks.
“A fucking mojito,” grunts someone behind me. It’s another Rescue Four guy.
“Fuck off,” I growl back.
He chuckles and saunters off. I shake my head just knowing I’m going to get shit for this drink of choice at work in the coming week. It’s well worth it as I face Janine.
“I can’t believe you set me up,” she’s saying to Angela.
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the music.” Angela cups her ear as if straining to hear. She begins dancing to some Beyonce song, I think, as she moves down the bar, taking other drink orders.
“I should go home.”
