by Jacie Lennon
“Thank you,” she croaks out, tears rolling down her face, before she is distracted by the personnel hovering around her, urging her into the ambulance.
I don’t do this job for the thanks. I do it to give others another chance at life.
As we drive back to the station, I clasp St. Christopher in my hand again, sending a prayer up in thanks for the safety for the woman and child and also for all my fellow firefighters. We are never promised a job will go well, and I’m always thankful when it does.
Grams gave the necklace to me on my sixteenth birthday. I remember the day vividly. I sat at her kitchen table. She had curtains with cherry blossoms on them over her sink window. The rest of her decor was a light pink to match. She said Grandpa hated it, but he loved her, and if it made her happy, he was happy. She giggled like a schoolgirl every time she talked about my grandpa Marvin.
“Mason,” she said in her gravelly voice, weathered from years of use. “I want to give you my patron saint of protection. May he keep you safe in your travels and wherever you decide to go in life, especially now that you are driving.” She grinned and opened her palm, St. Christopher rolling down her fingers into my outstretched hand.
I had never seen Grams without him. He always sat around her neck, a present from my grandpa when he’d arrived home from the war.
He passed away before I was born, and she would tell me stories of how St. Christopher had kept him safe, so he could come home to her.
The memory makes me emotional. She raised me when my parents were unable. They chose their own happiness found at the bottom of a bottle, prescription pills, or something harder when I was three years old. Grams loved me as if I were her very own son, and she never complained about the fact that she had already raised one kid. My dad eventually cleaned up his act and got custody of me when I was a very angry fourteen-year-old. He went through rehab and really tried to become the father I needed, but I do have moments of resentment and anger I’ve worked hard to control. I haven’t seen my mother since the day she left me, and I don’t care to ever see her again.
I make a mental note to go visit Grams soon. It’s been about a week since I’ve seen her, and today reminds me that I need to check on her.
The rest of the day passes quickly, and before I know it, I’m back on the interstate, headed to the gym first and then home to get ready for my blind date. With a sort of, maybe attractive woman.
I hit the gym beside my house to burn off some steam. If I go a while without a workout session, I feel too tense, and I don’t need to be tense for tonight.
After I watched my dad struggle in his marriage, ending up the same way has no appeal to me. No strings attached means exactly that. Nothing to bring me down if I keep it casual and one time only. I like to have fun, and from what I’ve seen, relationships aren’t fun. The one exception would be my grams. But the stories she tells about her and Grandpa almost seem more like fairy tales, and those don’t always pan out in real life. If I don’t open myself to that, I won’t get hurt. Casual is better for me, and so far, I’ve not met anyone who can change my mind.
Once home, I do a quick load of laundry and fold what’s in the dryer since there’s some time before we are going out. After I work jobs that leave me covered in filth at the end of the day, my apartment is my safe space. I have it cleaned once a week, and I wipe down surfaces every day. I do my laundry, and I even iron my clothes.
My phone starts ringing on the bed, and I grab it, swiping to answer while I continue putting things away.
“What’s up?” I answer.
“Hey. So, I forgot to tell you something earlier,” Ezra says a little hesitantly.
“Okay,” I say, stopping what I’m doing. He’s piqued my interest.
“Jules is here because she broke up with her fiancé,” he says.
“Damn, that’s rough.” I head to the kitchen for a snack, sighing when I open the fridge and don’t see much to eat.
“Yeah, so, you know, be nice to her but not too nice. She’s in a weird place right now.”
“So, you want me to be kind of nice?” I’m confused now.
This is perfect for me. I can be nice. I can be very nice.
“I want you to keep her entertained, but under no circumstances can you try to take her home tonight,” he says firmly.
Well, that’s no fun.
“That’s like telling a goat not to shit all over your yard,” I say, picking up an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter and crunching into it.
“Did you just compare your game with goat shit?” Ezra barks out a laugh.
“Just saying that you can’t expect her not to sleep with me. Have you seen me?”
“Yeah, and I wouldn’t want to sleep with a douche bag like you.”
“That’s because you aren’t a woman. They all fall under my charm sooner or later.”
“You need to stop thinking with your dick all the time. One day, you are going to want to settle down, and no one will have you because you probably slept with their best friend at some point.”
“Good thing I don’t plan on settling down. Bring on all the best friends.” I pump my fist in the air.
“I can’t believe I asked you to come out tonight,” Ezra mutters into the phone.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about me. Jules will be in great hands.”
“She’d better not end up in any hands,” Ezra says.
I laugh while ending the call. I check my phone and see I have enough time to jump in my shower that’s working again and meet Ezra on Broadway. We don’t usually end up there. We are more mid-Nashville-type bar-hoppers, but the girls want to go to Broadway, so we go where they are. Kind of like stalkers. But not.
I jump in my truck and head downtown. After my Murphy’s Law of a morning, where anything that could go wrong did go wrong, I hope things are looking up.
4
Jules
We walk past a few places that look full to the brim with people. Wanting something fun but with enough room to breathe, we go inside the first place we find that fits the description. The ambiance is definitely country, and the number of cowboy boots in this place amazes me.
“Ugh, tourists. We don’t all wear cowboy boots,” Hanna says. “Or hats.” She adds when a ten-gallon hat hits her in the face.
“Come on,” I say, grabbing her hand. “Rule number one: tequila.”
I drag us up to the bar and throw up two fingers to the bartender. “Two shots of tequila with salt and lime.”
The bartender nods and bustles off to fill the many orders being shouted at her.
“It feels like forever since we were on Broadway together,” I say as I turn and lean my side against the high bar top.
“Way too long. We were long overdue for a friends’ night.” Hanna reaches into her purse to check her phone. “No updates from Nora.” She frowns.
“The kids are fine. Stop worrying and just have fun,” I tell her.
“You’re right,” she says, sighing. “Oh! Brent is almost here, and Ezra shouldn’t be too long.” She gives me a big grin.
I raise my shot glass that was just placed in front of us. We suck down the liquor, making faces as it burns our throats, and the lime and salt taste sour. Why people do this for fun is beyond me, but here we are, having fun.
Brent arrives a short time later, breezing in and pecking us both on the cheeks.
“Ladies, what are we having?” He motions to the empty bar in front of us.
“We just did tequila shots,” I say.
He gasps. “I can’t believe you didn’t wait for me! Three more.” He holds a hand up to the bartender and motions at the three of us.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows.
“Of course I am. Isn’t that what this night is for?”
“Hell yeah!” Hanna yells and raises her tequila shot in the air. “The terrific trio is back together! To my best friend, Jules. Fuck your ex.”
She laughs, and we clink glasses. Then, she throws her shot back, and Brent and I follow suit.
“Don’t look now, but Ezra brought a band of outlaws with him. Hold on,” Hanna says, looking up from our third round of shots.
Brent and I watch as she hurries across the busy bar, throwing a hand against Ezra’s chest, effectively stopping him and his friends from advancing toward us any further. I don’t see Craig, who I assume is home with Nora and all the kids, but there are two other guys with Ezra. One is looking at Hanna as she has an intense discussion with Ezra, but the other one, he’s looking at me.
I watch as he leaves the guys and starts his way across the bar, eyes locked on mine. His hair is dark, cut shorter on the sides and longer on top. Smoothed back off his forehead in an effortlessly mussed-up way. I trail my eyes down, lingering on his mouth, those kissable lips curled in a smirk. His body is fit. Large shoulders stretch his shirt, and I can tell there would be a delicious row of abs if I lifted the hem.
Down, girl.
The way he’s walking toward me puts me on edge. Like he’s a hunter on the prowl. It doesn’t look like Hanna knew about this development if the way she’s acting across the bar is any indication.
“Incoming,” Brent mutters next to me, a small grin on his face.
“Who is he?” I whisper back, but Brent just shrugs. “You are no help.”
“I’d let him help me get over a breakup any day,” Brent says, sipping on his drink that I didn’t even know he had ordered.
“Um, where’s mine?” I point to his drink as he steps forward, ignoring me.
“Hello there, sir. You are delicious.” Brent gives the guy a salacious once-over before speaking again, “This young lady right here doesn’t have a drink, if you would be so kind?” He stares at the guy who has just stopped in front of me.
“Brent,” I hiss, but he doesn’t pay me any attention.
The guy’s gaze looks between me and Brent before he breaks into a smile.
Oh boy. What a smile it is. Beautiful, perfect, straight white teeth framed by a set of lips that should be a crime to waste on a man. A small scar to the right of his lips is the only imperfection.
“What are you having?” His voice sends a shiver through me. Deep, manly, and everything I don’t need in my life right now.
I can’t speak for a few seconds until my brain registers that he’s waiting for a reply, and Brent is nudging me not very subtly in the side.
“Oh. No, thanks. I can get my own,” I say when I finally find my voice.
Brent’s mouth drops open, and he huffs. “She will take a rum and Coke,” he says before sauntering off to do whatever it is that Brent does.
And I’m left there, alone, standing awkwardly with the mystery guy.
“Mason,” he says, jutting his hand between us. “You must be Jules?”
“Yes, that’s me. Nice to meet you.” I raise my gaze from our clasped hands to his face.
He wears a slight grin that makes his blue eyes sparkle. He turns to the bar to order. “Rum and Coke, and I’ll have a vodka cranberry,” he says before looking back to me.
I watch as he looks over my face and body in a blatant manner before coming back to settle on my face. I can see the appreciation in his expression, and it sends a small thrill through me. Looks like I still got it. However, I can’t let him get away with his blatant perusal.
“Did you just check me out?” I ask him point-blank.
He looks taken aback before recovering and pasting a smile on his face.
“Yep,” he says, nodding, and turns to get the drinks. “I sure did.” He hands me my drink and then raises his eyebrows over the glass as he brings it to his mouth to sip.
I watch him, mesmerized, staring at the strong hand holding the cup. The veins that trail along his arm and up to his shoulder. I can feel him staring at me. My skin prickles with the scrutiny, and I can’t help but think about the Nat Geo special I once watched on bird mating rituals. A snort escapes me, and I quickly bring my hand up to cover my mouth, my eyes growing wide. A small blush starts to work its way over my cheeks, warming me.
“Is something funny?” he asks, leaning in.
His scent washes over me, causing my stomach to flop and my hands to sweat as I breathe in the delicious smell. It’s almost like I have forgotten what happened to me. Forgotten that I was pissed and heartbroken.
I hadn’t even had this reaction when I first met Kyle. Now that I think about it, I wasn’t that into Kyle when we first started dating. He wore me down, asking me out every single day until, finally, I agreed. I thought it was sweet, his insistence, but now, I wonder why he was that insistent.
Mason is still leaning toward me, close enough for me to feel the heat coming off his body. I watch as his nostrils flare, his baby-blue eyes not leaving mine. Neither of us moves, not daring to break the spell.
“Sorry about that,” Hanna says, breezing back into our bar spot and grasping my arm, effectively pulling me from my thoughts.
I start to breathe again when I glance toward Hanna, and she frowns at me.
“Are you okay?” she whispers.
“Yeah. Yes, I’m fine,” I say, clearing my throat. Glancing up, I see those piercing blue eyes still on me, and I flush under the intense gaze. “Um, Hanna, Mason,” I say, motioning between the two.
“I know,” she says, rolling her eyes. “He works with Ezra.”
“I’m just getting to know Jules here.” He grins, and I fight to keep a smile off my face.
“Guacamole.” Hanna pouts, crossing her arms over her chest.
I shake my head while Mason’s brows sink in confusion.
“This is girls’ night,” she says in a last-ditch effort.
“You have another guy here, and you invited Ezra,” he says, turning to look for Brent.
“Brent is one of the girls. Ezra is my husband.” Hanna points a finger at Mason. “You, sir, are neither of those things.”
“No, that’s for damn sure,” he says before taking another sip of his drink and giving me a wink.
“Mason Porter, you turn around right now and get away from my friend. She doesn’t need to be corrupted by you,” Hanna practically growls at him.
He just chuckles. “There’s no harm in keeping a pretty lady company, Hanna Banana.”
“One, don’t call me Hanna Banana,” she starts, and I mouth the same sentence behind her, making Mason break out in a wide smile, showing off those beautiful teeth again. “Two, don’t smile while I’m trying to scold you. Makes you look deranged.”
“Let me stop you right there,” Mason says, holding up a finger. “Jules here is a big girl. She can decide whether she wants me around or not.” Turning toward me, he asks, “Do you think I’m deranged?” and cocks one eyebrow.
“I don’t think I have enough information to make a decision,” I muse.
Hanna turns to me, mouth agape. “He might be attractive, but he uses it to his advantage with the ladies,” she says, crossing her arms.
“Aw, Han, I’m honored by your nice words. You think I’m pretty?” Mason leans in and grins.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” she says.
He circles his face with one finger. “Already has.” He grins and takes another sip of his drink.
“Well, they are already here, Hanna. Might as well let them join us,” I say.
She turns to me with a pout. “What happened to our She-Woman Man-Haters Club, missy? It doesn’t matter how good he looks.” She hooks a thumb at Mason.
“I know,” I say defensively, a little irritated that she’s trying to micromanage me.
Ezra and his other friend walk over to join us, and he introduces him as Ben Johnson, another coworker. Hanna grabs my hand and pulls me to the restroom as quick as her two feet will carry us, leaving the guys standing at the bar.
“What is that all about?” Hanna asks once we are in line for the restroom, concern on her face.
“What is what all
about?” I feign ignorance.
“You and Mason.” She puts her hands on her hips.
Mason. What a nice name.
“It’s nothing. He just came over and introduced himself,” I say with a shrug. I don’t want Hanna to badger me about this right now since I’m confused by my actions as well.
“I like Mason as a person; however, I’m not sure you need to get tangled up with him.” Hanna raises her eyebrows and peers at me.
“What do you mean?”
“I just mean, he’s nice to look at, but Ezra told me he doesn’t do relationships.”
“Maybe that’s exactly what I need. No relationships. A little fling would help me to get out of this funk, to move on. Help me get over this heartache,” I say the last part softly.
“Maybe. But just be careful,” Hanna says, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m just trying to look out for you. But you do you.” She smiles.
“Okay, I’ll take your words under advisement. He probably flirts with everyone though. I was just his target tonight. He’s probably not interested in getting to know me.”
“Don’t be an idiot. Only a fool wouldn’t be into getting to know you.” She points at my body while wiggling her eyebrows. “If I wasn’t already married to a sexy piece of man candy, I’d claim you for myself.”
She leans over to plant a kiss on my cheek, and we both dissolve into laughter.
5
Mason
“It’s official, man. You are blind,” I say, leaning over to clap Ezra on the shoulder.
He gives me a confused look.
I point in the direction the girls went. “Jules. She’s damn sexy.”
“Ah, well, glad you think so,” he drawls.
“You don’t?”
“I mean … she is attractive.” He shrugs.
When I saw her standing there, staring at us, I was thanking my lucky stars that she was beautiful. That made my job so much easier and a lot more fun. Her long brunette hair was curled and hung around her face in a thick mane. As I got closer and her wide brown eyes blinked up at me with thick, dark eyelashes, I was mesmerized and couldn’t look away. I sound sappy, but I’m just being honest. She’s fine as hell. I don’t get attached, but an attachment for one night won’t hurt.
