* * *
“Quinn, come in,” Calvin greets with a big smile. “Your excitement is contagious.”
“Oh, I can’t help it. I’m so proud of how it turned out.”
“Bring ’em over here,” my dad yells from the den.
I practically dance over to him, before sitting on the oversized ottoman and handing him and Calvin each a calendar.
“Oh, Quinn. These are amazing.”
“Right? Oh, Dad. I know a calendar won’t change everyone’s opinion of the fire department after everything that happened, but even if we can bring some much-needed positivity, I’ll take it.”
“Would ya look at that?” My gaze shifts over to Calvin. The sight of him makes my heart swell. I can tell by his delighted glow that he’s made it to December. “I haven’t seen my boy smile like that in years.” His voice cracks a little under the strain of his fatherly pride.
I have to push down the lump in my throat.
“What’s going on in here?” My grays instantly connect with Jason’s bright azure blues, and I shake with nerves. His approval means more to me than I’d like to admit.
“Quinn let us have the first look at 803’s finest,” Calvin says, grinning up at his son with unshed tears in his eyes. “You may only be temporarily filling in there, but you’ve made your old dad mighty proud, son.”
Jason comes closer, a kitchen towel draped over his shoulder. He’s wearing dark jeans, a red and blue flannel button up, and the scent of Italian herbs and teenage dreams. It’s hard to imagine this version could make my mouth water as much as that shirtless photo in the calendar.
He wipes his hands carefully on the towel before reaching for a calendar. His expression is bright, his eyes shining as he turns each page. Once he makes it to the end, his expression doesn’t waver. It’s hard to knowwhathe’s thinking. My heart’s racing a mile a minute in nervous anticipation. “You did a mighty fine job, short stuff.”
I let out a shaky exhale, but it does little to calm the constant humming of electricity in my limbs.
“Hey, you two. Dinner’s on the table.”
I take a step back, giving Dad and Calvin space to make it into the dining room as Jason leans in, dropping his voice, “Have you eaten?”
“Uh, no.” I will my chattering teeth to relax. Jeez, why can’t I calm down? “I was too excited to eat.”
“Let me make sure these two have everything they need. I’ll pack up the rest, and we can go somewhere quiet.”
Blinking up at him in shock, I simply nod.
Moments later, Jason returns to the den with a bag slung over his shoulder and reaches for my hand. My jumpiness has subsided a bit, but the surreal feeling of my hand in his has me questioning if I’m really wide awake. He leads me to his truck, opening the door for me.
“Where are we going?”
The truck rumbles to life, and he gives me a saucy wink. “One of my favorite places.” He takes the familiar path past the greenhouse before turning toward the Christmas tree farm. Oh, the very thought of it causes me to swoon. He puts the car in reverse before parking near the entrance to the rows and rows of trees. “Come on.”
I hop out of the truck and meet him at the tailgate, which he swiftly lowers. Jason leaps up, extending a hand to me before catapulting me into the bed of the truck, where he has what appears to be an air mattress, blankets, and pillows.
“I like to come out here at night. Especially at the end of a long day. Lying here under the stars reminds me of Sycamore Mountain. It’s so peaceful it drowns out… well, anything I don’t want to think about.” He peers over at me, lowering himself to the mattress before helping me do the same. “You kind of have the same effect on me.”
I nearly gasp at his statement; it catches me so off guard. Taking in Jason’s profile, he seems relaxed. It’s not something I witness often.
Reaching into the bag, he removes a container of pasta and some bread. Handing me a fork, he grins. “Super fancy, huh?” Retrieving a small container of butter and a knife, he prepares a serving of bread for me. “Water okay?”
“Yes. This is perfect.” And it is. I’m still coming down off of the adrenalin from earlier, so I don’t have much of an appetite. Mimicking his actions, I twirl the tines of my fork through the buttery angel hair pasta in the container before popping it into my mouth. We continue to alternate swirling portions before slurping like a scene fromLady and the Tramp.
Once we’ve finished, I rub my belly and lean back onto the pillows, letting out a moan. “That was amazing.”
“You barely ate anything.” Out of the blue, he’s hovering over me. My eyes widen, and I blink rapidly, shocked by his proximity. He reaches over, swiping something from the corner of my mouth. “You had a… crumb,” his voice sounds velvety as it lingers above.
Plopping down on his back, he rests his head on his arm and looks up at the stars. “I feel like you grew up when I wasn’t looking. Fill me in, short stuff. I know about school and your job. Tell me more about you.”
