Cam points his stick at him. "Because she enjoys watching me suffer. And because Scott's a good man. A dear friend. Too charming for his own good, but a genuinely good man."
"I wouldn't even blame her." He laughs.
Levi grins. "Good thing you're marrying her in May."
"Locked down," Cam says, with the grim satisfaction of a man who knows exactly how lucky he is. "Problem solved."
Cam’s marrying Tara in May. Three months out. I file it.
As if summoned by the mere mention, the front doors swing open and I know before anyone speaks.
Six-two. Built like someone who runs toward heat instead of away from it. Broad shoulders stretching a CFFD jacket, sleeves pushed to the forearms like he’s permanently mid-shift. Golden-retriever ease wrapped in a frame that could lift a car off a pinned stranger without blinking.
The kind of face that makes women forget their own zip code and men instinctively check their posture.
I check my posture.
Scott Maddox, presumably.
He walks in first. Behind him, three other firefighters file in carrying trays of hot drinks with the same focused energy they’d bring to an actual call.
"Maddox," Cam says, with the particular exhaustion of a man who has been competing with this level of effortless natural likability for too long. "We were just talking about you."
"Good things, I hope." The smile is immediate. Easy. Dangerous in a very wholesome way. Lethal even.
He sets his tray down on the boards without looking for a surface—like the surface was always going to be there.
His crew sets theirs beside it. No fuss. No hovering. Just step back and observe, like this is routine.
Levi mutters, "See what we mean?"
I do. And I understand Tara’s framed article now.
I'm straight. Extremely straight. Jane made sure of that three weeks ago.
But I get it. If I were a woman, I'd need a minute.
Scott walks over and extends his hand.
Warm. Firm. Exactly two seconds long—the preciseduration that communicatesI'm glad you're herewithout prompting a town-wide hide-your-womenfolk advisory.
"Scott Maddox. Welcome to Cedar Falls. We're glad you're considering us."
"Considering is a strong word. I'm listening."
"That's all we ask." He holds my gaze with a sincerity so genuine it's almost weaponized.
"Cam and Levi have said great things."
His radio crackles. “Maddox. East concourse. Exit four. Fire code’s asking for you.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “On it.”
Three of us watch him leave.
"He does that," Cam says. “Runs four lanes at once and makes it look easy."
From the bench, the older woman calls out: "Young man. Come here."
