Our waitress brings our drinks, and after nodding my thanks to her, I hold my beer up to her wineglass to cheers. I watch as she brings her wineglass to her lips, mesmerized by the way they press together when she takes a sip.
“Then, tell me about the friend you went to visit,” she asks.
I sit back, not even trying to hide the smile on my face. “Sis …”
My reaction makes her chuckle. “You went to visit your sister?”
“No. She’s not my sister. She’s Skye’s little sister. She cracks me up. The most sarcastic, smart-witted girl you’ll ever meet, and she has no problem calling bullshit on any one of us.”
“Who’s Skye?”
“Skye is Hawk’s girl.” I stop and shrug. “When I say we’re all family, I mean it in every aspect. They got together a few months ago, and her little sister just slid right into all of our hearts.”
“How much younger is she? You keep sayinglittle.”
I take a drink of my beer, trying to get rid of the dirty thoughts running through my head as I watch her take a sip while we talk about Sis, which is so not okay.
“Fourteen, I think.”
“She’s only fourteen, and you went to hang out with her?” she asks with a slight chuckle.
“She was in a pretty bad accident. We all were on duty when it happened.” I stop talking, trying to hide the emotions it causes every time I think about that night.
Kara covers her mouth in shock. “Is she okay?”
I nod, taking another sip. “Thankfully, yes. But she has a long road to full recovery. I like to go hang out with her sometimes just to give her company.”
She smiles, and the way it brightens up her face is something truly special. I want to keep that smile there for as long as I can.
“Tell me about the kids you nanny.”
That does it. Her face grows in an even prettier smile. “They are amazing little girls—Lana and Katy. They are so much fun to hang out with. It’s probably the best job I’ve ever had.”
“I know that feeling.” I hold up my beer to cheers her.
Though being a firefighter has its challenges, I absolutely love what I do.
“Tell me more about you. What do you do in your free time?” I ask.
“Work on my music, I guess.”
“Do you write your own songs?”
“I’m trying to—at least, that’s the goal eventually.”
“Did you play any Kara Parsons’s originals last night? I’m trying to remember if there was a song I didn’t recognize.”
“Were you paying that close of attention to my set?”
“Yes, I was paying that close of attention. I told you, I enjoyed it.”
“Well, thank you. And, no, I didn’t do any originals. I wanted the crowd to stay engaged with songs they could sing along with. It’s amazing how fast you can change the mood in the room by playing a song no one knows. Once you lose your audience, it’s hard to get them back.”
I nod in thought. “I can actually see that happening. But then how do you ever put your own music out there?”
She places her hand on the table, showing her frustration with it all. “That right there is the big question. Once I figure that out, I’ll let you know.”
I laugh out loud. “Maybe we can figure it out together. I’d like to help, if you’ll let me.”
