One of the station's trucks is parked out on the road, the lights on, but no siren, the one-hundred-and-eight-foot ladder fully extended. Multiple picnic tables are set up in the main driveway parking lot of the station, half full already with locals mingling. Inside the large bay doors pushed open wide, there are more tables set up in a large U shape, but these are manned by chili cook-off contestants. A few local restaurants and other long-time community supporters all vying for the golden firehose trophy and the bragging rights for the following year.
The table at the back side of the U is manned by the fire department itself, and I recognize Chief Jensen while he stands guard over the massive wrought iron cauldron that houses his prized chili.
Stepping inside the garage bay that’s been cleared of firetrucks for the event, I spot Lydia and the girls talking with Zach and Joel. Chloe is perched on top of Joel’s shoulders, her big, toothless grin wide.
“Lou!” she exclaims when she sees me, pointing at me over the heads of the sea of people between us. “She’s here!”
Zach’s eyes find mine as I make my way toward them, his going wide with appreciation. Heat tinges my cheeks at his avid perusal.
I think things shifted forward for us, after the other night with Abigail. We’re both so terrified the other person is going to disappear… but I think maybe he realizes I’m not going anywhere, either.
Zach is wearing the standard uniform today, navy blue cargo pants that fit his ass and thighs far too well and make my mouth water. But instead of the usual navy-blue Petoskey Fire Department t-shirt, he has a matching quarter zip sweater on, the sleeves pushed up his forearms, showing off that floral tattoo. The department logo is stitched onto the left side in red thread, and the zipper is pulled down low, showing the collar of a plain white t-shirt where his throat is exposed.
Looking around, I realize all of the crew members are wearing similar uniforms, some in long sleeve t-shirts, others in the same quarter zip sweaters.
Zach looks the best in his. But I might be biased.
Joel has on a navy-blue t-shirt, the sleeves fitted tight to his biceps, the red department logo on his left pectoral. He winks atme from behind his glasses, his arms wrapped around Chloe’s legs to keep her in place where she’s straddling his shoulders.
“Hey,” Zach says when I finally reach them, those blue eyes of his scouring over every inch of me. He reaches out a hand and fans his fingers through my long, unbound tresses. “I like your hair down like this.”
Lydia embraces me in a quick hello before she’s called away by another crew member for a cup of coffee. Bailey steps up to me and wraps her arms around my waist, hugging me tight before tilting her head up to look at me. “Dad said you were coming, and that we had to bechilland not act like heathens when you got here.”
I snort out a laugh, raising my eyes to his. “Oh yeah?”
“Mr. Chief said we get to go for a ride in thebigfiretruck later,” Chloe says from her perch on Joel’s shoulders. “If Daddy says we can, anyway.”
“We’ll see how well you behave today,” Zach grumbles, but winks at his daughters.
“DoIget to go for a ride?” I ask, smiling innocently up at him. His hand finds the small of my back, urging me closer to his side.
“Depends on how wellyoubehave, too,” he rasps, leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek. My skin flames at the contact, and the husky warning.
“So, no flirting with your crew?” I ask just as quietly, for his ears alone. He glowers down at me, and butterflies erupt low in my belly.
“Why don’t you fuck around and find out, Princess?” he growls low, and fuck, I’m cooked. “Be careful or you’ll earn yourself another punishment.”
Grinning impishly, I tease, “Don’t mind if I do.”
“Louise…” he warns, and I wink, before turning to look around.
Outside, next to the big firetruck, I spot Liv and her two white-blond haired kids standing next to a man in the department uniform. He’s down on one knee, helping four-year-old Charlee put on one of the massive turnout jackets that comes clear down to her toes, and a helmet that’s about ten sizes too big. Noah, her three-year-old, is bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting for his turn to try on the gear.
Liv smiles down at both of her kids, but I see the blush that stains her cheeks when she talks to the fireman.
“Oh, good, Liv did come,” I say, smiling up at Zach. I’m so incredibly nervous to introduce him, and I’m not sure why.
His gaze follows mine and he asks, “Your friend, right?” I nod. “And, your other friend, Willow?”
“Right,” I say, smiling again. “She should be here soon. I think she’s bringing her boyfriend, Luck.”
“His name is Luck?” Zach asks incredulously.
Laughing, I nod as we make our way out the bay doors toward where Liv and the fireman are standing. “His last name is Luck, yes. He runs the Pub downtown.”
“Ahh, yes,” Zach says, nodding. “Their popcorn machine caught fire last year.”
“You would know that,” I laugh, shaking my head. Liv turns as we approach, her smile going wide. “Hey! Glad you made it! Hi, Charlee! Hi, Noah!”
