“Wait, run that by me again?”Hayes asks, pulling on his turnout gear. “You bet what?”
“That Maverick can get through the entire Fireman’s Ball planning without arguing with the Parks & Rec Princess,” Austin explains, way too cheerfully for six in the morning.
James mimes a drum roll. “Winner gets vacation pick and music privileges for six months.”
“Losers take all the holiday shifts,” Reese adds.
Scotty remains silent, checking his equipment.
Hayes’s eyes widen. “All of them? Christmas? New Year’s?”
“Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, the works,” Reese confirms.
“And you think he can do it?” Hayes looks at me skeptically. “No offense, Mav, but I’ve heard you two go at it. There was that time you argued about fire extinguisher placement for the ‘Haybale Hoedown,’ and I thought we were going to have to use it to douse the flames between you two.”
The guys laugh.
“That was a legitimate safety concern,” I mutter, adjusting my helmet.
“You called her ‘aggressively concerned about seasonal aesthetics,’” Austin reminds me.
“She wanted to put decorations near an emergency exit!”
Hayes gestures at me. “See? That’s what I’m talking about.”
I lean against my locker, crossing my arms. “I can handle working with anyone. Even her.”
“Especially her,” James sings-songs under his breath.
I shoot him a look that promises retribution during our next training drill.
The truth is, the bet felt simple when I originally agreed to it. Stay professional, don’t argue, collect my win. Easy.
What I didn’t account for was actually getting to know Vincenza Sorrentino. Learning that her relentless positivity isn’t naivety—it’s genuine. That her “frivolous” community programs actually build the foundation that keeps this town together. That she takes her coffee with just a splash of milk and twists her hair when she’s thinking through problems.
The bet was supposed to be straightforward. I’d learn what she likes, anticipate conflicts, and stay one step ahead.
The irony is that strategy requires paying close attention to her. And the more I pay attention, the more I notice things I shouldn’t. Things I like, such as how she lights up when someone remembers small details about her. How she’s been wearing the same rotation of outfits because money is tight and she’s sending it all home to Reno. She gets a crease between her eyebrows when she’s worried. The beauty mark above her lip is a tiny punctuation to how flawlessly gorgeous she is.
The bet feels wrong now. But I’m in too deep. Can’t tell the guys that I may have caught feelings for the woman I’m supposed to just tolerate long enough to win vacation picks. It could just be a bug, a virus that I’ll soon get over. Or what if I end the bet, tell them, and it all falls apart, anyway?
While I’ve been thinking, the guys have continued to talk, but I’ve lost the thread.
“What if—?” Austin starts, then stops.
I glance over. “What if what?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “Never mind.”
“Spit it out, Austin.”
“What if Em meets someone else before I figure out how to tell her?” The words come out in a rush.
I blink. “Tell her what? Wait. Who?”
“Nothing. Forget it.” He slams his locker shut and stalks toward the engine bay.
The alarm sounds before I can push further, and we’re rolling out to a small grass fire on the edge of town. Controlled burn that got a little too enthusiastic.
