I nodded as I rose. “I’ll make a donation. Finn said last night he’d put in a bit of extra time while he’s on leave. The doctor said light exercise as he gets his equilibrium back might be a good thing. He just can’t overdo it.” I put my coat on. Overdo itagain.
The overnight snow had mostly melted—but my bike was done for the season.Maybe forever. Finn really doesn’t like you riding that thing. He appreciates the leather—but not the risk.“You can close up?”
She waved me off. “Have a good date. Lock him in for a solid relationship—if that’s what you both want.”
I held my wool scarf in my hands. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Or of him.”
“He’s smitten. You’re smitten. You’ll figure it out.” She turned her attention back to her laptop. “Oh, another story just hit. I’ll forward you the link—but promise me you won’t look until tomorrow?”
“But if I’m the story—”
“I know where you are.” She made a shooing motion.
On that note, I headed out. As I drove to Finn’s, I reflected on the—so far three—stories published in other papers that had discussed my previoussituation.None had made it the focus of the story, though, so I was grateful for that. I’d seriously considered giving Spring the byline for this story. Except she just didn’t know it as well as I did. So she couldn’t have bluffed the shoe-leather reporting. Well, maybe she could’ve—the woman was damn smart. Still, if things had gone south, I needed to be the one to take the flak. Whatever that looked like.
I kept my speed at the limit as I headed to Finn’s. The road were slick, as the snow had turned to a cold, heavy rain. Perhaps a night to spend at home by the fire. Still, I had dinner reservations.
And a plan.
Finn emerged from his cabin as I pulled up. He hopped in and leaned over for a peck. A kiss that came as naturally as breathing. “I’m ready.” His boyish smile emerged.
“How’s your head?” I turned my SUV around and had us heading back down the driveway.
“Mom says it’s okay for me to go out tonight.”
“Oh? I didn’t see her car.” I’d only spotted Finn’s pickup truck.
“Nothing like that. She came to visit.”
“And to check up on you, I’m quite certain.”
“You would be certainly correct.”
“I can’t blame her. Less than twenty-four hours ago, you were being shot at.” I pulled onto his road.
“Not sure what that has to do with a concussion.”
I chuckled. “Maybe that you need your head examined? Following me like that?”
This time, he laughed. “I saved your life.”
I chanced the quickest of glances toward him. “How do you figure that?”
“If I hadn’t been there, then you wouldn’t have known about the propane tank. If you hadn’t known about the—”
“Okay, I get it.” I laughed as I pulled on the street that would take us back to Mission City’s downtown. “I’ll grant you that much. I’d also appreciate if you didn’t stick your neck out like that again.” I cast another quick glance. “Profession aside. I’d never ask you not to be a firefighter.”
“Oh, phew. Because that would be a deal-breaker.”
I smiled. Yeah, I’d known that. To Finn, being a firefighter was his raison d’être.
Like, for me, reporting was in my blood. “I suppose I could’ve been a detective?”
“You planning to join the RCMP?”
I barked out a laugh at Finn’s question. ‘Uh, no. I was just thinking that if I wasn’t a reporter, I wouldn’t make a bad detective. Private, of course. I’m not meant for law enforcement.”
“No, too conformist for you. Too many rules.” No missing the smile in his words.
