I tap the base of the grave lightly before rising.
“I promise.”
***
By the time I roll into the station, the crew’s already hauling firewood, loading crates of canned goods, and fighting over whose skates are whose like it’s a damn NHL locker room.
The Boxing Day fundraiser’s a Maplewood staple. A food drive, with hot cider, a bonfire by the lake, and a rotating cast of firefighters skating in partial uniform, because apparently that counts as public service.
Every year someone calls itMagic Mike on Fire and Ice, and every year we pretend to be offended while secretly practicing tight turns in the bay.
This year, I put my hand up as the designated volunteer from the off-shift crew. Not that I mind.
Colt spots me first, wiping snow off a helmet. “Well, well, look who survived the blizzard withFrankie fucking Monroe.”
He says her name in a squeaky voice, mocking how fast I snapped to attention when Herb radioed in last night asking if we could check she was okay.
“Shut up,” I mutter.
“No way we’re not talking about this.” Evan slaps a pair of skates into my chest. “You were snowed in withHerb’s daughter-in-law. That’s practically a capital offence.”
“She’s not his daughter-in-law.”
“She basically is.”
Beck emerges from the truck cab, raising a brow. “Did you two keep warm with board games, or did Monopoly get real horizontal?”
I groan. “Jesus. Can you all just—”
“Oh, no.” Evan cuts in. “No way. You can’t just show up like you didn’t spend the night with a beautiful redhead—who, by the way, is Eli Parnell’ssister-in-law—and not get asked questions.”
“She’sTamara’ssister,” I point out.
Colt smirks. “But Eli’s still gonna be the one to murder you.”
“Think Leah’s already planning the wedding?” Evan asks. “Everyone clocked the tension during the snowball fight, don’t deny it. You were fuckinggonefor her.”
I try to keep my face blank, but heat crawls up my neck. Because yeah. Iamgone for her.
So far gone I didn’t even pretend to sleep last night—I just watched her breathe and wondered what the hell I did to deserve this second chance with her.
Luke leans against the truck. “But what happened to Voice Girl?”
I stiffen.
Colt glances up. “Oh shit, that’s right. You ghosted her.”
Evan whistles. “Damn. Snowed in with one girl while ghosting another. Cold, Fletch. Even for you.”
I open my mouth, close it, then scrub a hand through my hair.
“Uhh… sheisVoice Girl.”
They all freeze, and the entire bay goes completely silent for a millisecond.
“No!” Evan drops his crate.
Beck just chokes on his coffee. “Jesus fucking Christ, Fletch.”
