Avery: Don’t sell yourself short. You’re awesome. They’ll see soon enough. What’s the matter with you, anyway? You’re usually the optimist who’s so sunshiney I need shades.
Hallie: That’s when it comes to life in general and other people. When I’m stressed, I’m a total rain cloud.
Avery: Well then, I guess I’ll be your sunshine today. It’s the least I can do to thank you for always being mine.
Hallie: Aren’t we supposed to be rivals, or jealous of one another? I think we’re doing this sister thing all wrong.
Avery: I wouldn’t know about any of that. I just do it the way you showed me my whole life. I kind of like the way we do sisterhood.
Hallie: Me too. Love you, Ave.
Avery: Love you, too. Now go get a hot fireman.
I laugh out loud and pocket my phone. Even if Avery weren’t joking, the last thing I’ll be doing while I’m here in Waterford is dating someone from my workplace—or anyone, for that matter.
When I step out of the van, Greyson is walking into the station. He tips his chin to me as a greeting and turns to walk into the firehouse without another word. I don’t take it personally. I can’t remember ever meeting another person who kept to themselves more than he does. He’s not rude about it, but he’s like a vault. And I can’t shake the feeling of familiarity I had at the pizza place. It’s crazy, considering I’ve never been to Waterford before.
There’s just something about him.
Patrick waves from across the parking lot. “Ready for your first shift-change meeting?”
I smile and wave. “I’m ready!”
Dustin walks up behind me. “Heya, Rook! Man, I’m glad I’m not the rookie anymore. You have no idea. I was rookie for nearly two years. Well, a year and a half. Maybe two. Whatever. It was too long. I know that. Do you think I got to graduate from pranks during that whole time? No. The guys just refined their skills and creativity. Speaking of which, I’ve got a few hints for you.”
I pause, looking up at him. This is the most camaraderie I’ve experienced since their jaws all hit the floor when I first announced my presence two days ago.
“One: if they put you on Vanessa duty, be careful. Not that she’s going to want to marry you. But … yeah. Come to think of it, they won’t put you on Vanessa duty.” Dustin shakes his head. “Two: there’s no such thing as auditing the fire hydrants. If they assign that task, just smile and nod. Go for a run. Come back and say the hydrants pass inspection.” He smiles a conspiratorial smile. “I’m not leaking all the state secrets, though. You’re bound to be pranked.”
“I hope I am,” I confess.
There’s something about Dustin that sets me at ease. The anxiety I was feeling on the drive into work evaporates and my shoulders loosen just a bit.
“You hope you’re going to be pranked?” He laughs. “Why?”
He opens the side door that leads into the kitchen and waves his hand to tell me to walk in past him.
“Then I’ll know I’m accepted,” I say softly just before we enter the main room. “One of the guys.”
“News flash, Brownie,” Dustin’s voice is loud, filling the whole room. “You’re not going to be one of the guys. You’re not a guy.”
“I know,” I laugh despite the fact that when I look up, all the eyes of the alternating crew and my new crew are on me and Dustin.
I straighten my spine and say, “Good morning,” to the wall of testosterone gathered around the large wooden table and standing in the kitchen just beyond it.
A chorus of tenor voices responds, “Good morning.”
What was I thinking, becoming the first female firefighter in Waterford?
Nearly every woman I know has teased me about “living the dream.” In theory, yes, being surrounded by attractive men with hearts to serve their community should be fantastic. In reality, having a backstage pass to the men’s locker room is more than slightly intimidating and regularly overwhelming.
All the eyes in the room remain on me as I pass through the dining room, through the bays, to my room—the one they obviously cleared out for me.
I’ve always loved a challenge.
I wouldn’t trade Mia for the world, but sometimes I wonder about the way life has turned and twisted. Nothing landed the way I imagined. I’m a twenty-seven-year-old divorcée with a seven-year-old daughter. I never finished college. And now I’m living halfway across my home state fighting fires in a town I never even visited before. I only heard about Waterford once before Avery moved here. And that night seems like a dream now. Maybe it was.
Once I’m changed into my station uniform, I return to the crowded main room where the captains hold our shift-change meeting. One of the guys from the other crew stands and offers me his chair. I’d like to ask him if he’d give his chair up for any other firefighter in the room, but I’m saving the hills I’ll die on for ones worth making a scene over, so I just take the seat.
