by Sara Arden
Noah popped the fry into his mouth. “Consider it a delivery fee.”
“I guess that’s fair. Not every girl gets Noah Finnegan bringing her a plate of fried chicken. You should do a little dance, though.”
“Look, I already did that fireman and puppies calendar, I’m not shaking my cakes, too.”
“Get out of my kitchen,” Allison shooed him. “And take your cakes with you.”
“But this is where all the good stuff is.” He winked at her, but made his way back outside.
“So, you didn’t answer my question. Do you love my son?”
“Of course I do.” As if she even had to ask.
Allison grinned wide. “Best answer. I have a plan. We’ll plot our method of attack later. For now, just enjoy yourself.”
“I am feeling better and it’s past midday.”
“Good. We’ll talk soon.” Allison patted her on the shoulder.
She tried not to think about what Allison would say if she knew that the fire was her fault. There was part of her that knew Allison was the universal mother. She’d still say it wasn’t her fault, and that she loved her.
That made it all the more awful, somehow.
She wouldn’t think about that. She’d think about how everything she’d ever dreamed of had been dropped right in her lap and even if it was only for today, it was hers.
Sophie pulled the light sweater over her sensitive skin and took her plate of food outside.
“You missed me?” Noah said when she rejoined the group.
“You know I did.” She flirted back and sat down next to him.
Ainsley Becker sat on the other side of her. “This creep bothering you? I would be happy to have my sister haul him off to jail. Just say the word.”
“If the offer’s open…” Noah shrugged.
Ainsley rolled her eyes and deftly maneuvered her plate as both Noah and Ethan attempted to steal her strawberry shortcake. “Listen, I don’t know if you both have a death wish, but if you touch my shortcake—”
Noah waggled his eyebrows at her in a cartoonish gesture. “Your shortcake, huh?”
“It’s good to see you out, Sophie.” Ethan eyed her plate.
“Just because I’ve kept to myself doesn’t mean you’re any more likely to get something off my plate. You guys are as bad as a pack of vultures. There’s more food.” Sophie took a bite of the fried chicken and suddenly understood just exactly why they were willing to throw down to get one more piece. “Oh, this is divine.”
“Grammie Rosie is a genius,” Ethan said. “Now you see why? Plus, it tastes better when I steal it from Ainsley’s plate.”
“Probably the adrenaline because you know you’re courting certain death. I’ll end you, Accosta.” Ainsley’s words were harsh, but it was obvious they were the best of friends. “Hey, isn’t that Erin over there on her phone?”
Ethan and Noah both turned around. “Oh yeah. Let me go bring her in to the fold,” Noah got up.
Lucky Seven was a family. They were all part of the Cole family now. Coming to the barbeque meant something. It was more than sharing a plate. It was more than the food, the beer, and the banter. It was the people who walked in the door without knocking because the Cole home was their home, too. It was the way that Ethan didn’t hesitate to steal Ainsley’s strawberries and the way Ainsley pretended she didn’t see it.
It was the way Noah went to make sure Erin had been included. The way everyone bowed to Allison as Queen Bee, not because she could be terrifying, but because she had so much love for everyone. There was always room at her table, in her house, and in her heart.
This was family. This was worth fighting for.
Dying for.
Living for.
This was what she’d wished for most often on her wishing candles.
That wish had encompassed everything. For a father who wouldn’t hit her, a mother who loved her, for big holidays and home-cooked meals. For a life that she knew had to be more than a fairytale.
Hayden was suddenly at her side. “Can I steal you for a minute?”
She looked at the fried chicken longingly, then back up at Hayden.
“Bring the chicken,” he added.
Sophie followed him back to the food and for one horrible moment, she thought he was going to tell her that their earlier conversation had been a mistake.
Instead, he said, “So not all the guys could make it. Somebody has to stay on duty. Wanna help me make the plates to go?”
She saw then that he had prep containers spread out.
“Sure!” Sophie tried to hold in the heavy sigh of relief.
“You’re gold, Soph.” He handed her a container of potato salad. “Here, start with this.”
She dutifully filled containers with the loaded baked potato salad. It smelled divine and she was tempted to add some to her plate.
They worked in silence for a while before they spoke again. “So, my mother…”
“Is perfect,” Sophie finished for him.
“Royce said you were upset. Teary, even.”
“It’s just because she was good to me.”
He eyed her. “Are you sure that’s all it was? We joke about my mom, but if she said something that upset you, I’ll speak with her.”
“Oh no. No.” She put a hand on his arm. “She’s wonderful. She reminded me why I should be here.”
“I thought we already took care of that?”
Her cheeks heated and she knew she was flushed. “Yeah, but this was different.”
“As long as you’re okay.”
“I’m more than okay. Being here, it was really nice. Thank you for including me.” She was nervous all over again, and the butterflies in her stomach flapped their wings furiously.
“If we’re being honest, I should’ve done it years ago.”
She shook her head. “If we’re being honest, there’s probably lots of things we should’ve done years ago. Everything in its own time, right?”
“I’m glad you’re here.” He held up the trays of meat. “Should I give them the fried chicken? No, correction. I know I should, but am I going to?”
“Hard call. Would they do it for you?”
“We’d all die for each other, but it’s a whole level of serious when we’re talking about my grammie’s fried chicken.”
“You’re right.” She popped another bite in her mouth.
“But she makes it every Sunday from September to May. I guess I can share.” He began portioning out the tray. “She sent this one for the guys anyway.”
Sophie was delighted by him.
“You know, maybe you should come next Sunday.”
“To your grandmother’s?” Why did her voice sound that high-pitched?
“Yeah, I know Sunday dinner at grandma’s is kind of small town cliché, but—”
“Yes. Definitely yes.” Warmth bloomed in her chest and she pushed away all the thoughts that tried to intrude on her idyll. All the little voices that kept whispering she didn’t deserve this. That she didn’t belong. They didn’t matter. She was finally getting a family.
Or at least getting to pretend like she was part of one.
“Your mom said that you’ve been saving me for a long time,” she blurted.
“What’s that?” He stopped what he was doing and looked at her.
“She says she has a picture of us. You were nine and I was four. I kept trying to wander off the dock to feed the ducks at City Park. You kept chasing me down to hold my hand and make sure I didn’t fall in.”
“I don’t remember that.” He seemed amused, but maybe curious, too.
“Me either.”
“Is that why you were upset?”
“No, it’s really silly, actually.” She pushed away the feeling of other, of not belonging. It embarrassed her that his mother’s words had affected so intensely.
“Then you won’t mind telling me. Friends laugh together, right?”
“They do, but it’s embarrassing.”
He
raised his brows. “Come on, I’m going to think someone did something if you don’t tell me.”
“Someone did. Your mom said her job wasn’t to judge me. It was to love me.” Her voice cracked on the last word and she blinked as her eyes watered again.
“I guess I take what I have for granted. I forget that not everyone has what I have. But hey, you know, if my mom says she loves you, she loves you forever. That’s it. One and done.” He grinned at her.
“Don’t make me cry again.”
“Don’t do that. That’s Royce’s territory. I can deal with the immediate, physical crisis. The emotional fallout? Not my wheelhouse,” he teased.
“No? I seem to remember you keeping me company through those long hours of rehab.” She put her hand over her mouth. “Oh, wait. That girl moved to Poughkeepsie. I don’t even know what I’m talking about.”
“That’s right, whatever happened to that girl. She opened an art gallery?” He cocked his head to the side.
“She did. She paints, too. Sometimes, she displays her own work, but she never sells it.”
“Why not?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” Only she had. She doesn’t sell her own work because that’s her magical place, where the fairytales her heart yearns for get to live and breathe. She keeps them so she can stay with them always.
Only she couldn’t imagine saying that out loud.
“Let me know when you do.”
“Stop hogging up all the Sophie. The rest of us want to spend time with her. You’ll see her tomorrow.” Royce took her hand and led her back to the table. “And you know packing up the food for the guys was your job this year. Quit slacking.”
Once they were away from Hayden, Royce said, “You’ve gotta make him work for it. Make him a little bit miserable, even.” He grinned.
“I don’t want to make him miserable.”
“He’ll appreciate you more if you do. Look at me. I thwart him at every turn. Like stealing you away? Can you feel his disapproval from here?”
She looked up and saw that Hayden was indeed glaring daggers at his brother. “He’s going to get you back for this. There will be retaliation.”
“Worth it.” He handed her a piece of the strawberry shortcake. “And so is this.”
“You’re not wrong,” she said, and couldn’t help but wonder if that could apply to the situation at hand.
If in the end, would all this would be worth it?
Not for her, because for her, it would be a resounding yes. But for Hayden. For the family that shared and loved so easily.
6
He was back on shift and he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
He’d gone from seeing her once a year to every day this week and it wasn’t enough. Now that he was on shift, he wouldn’t see her again for seventy-two hours. He didn’t want to go that long. He wanted to breathe her in, wanted to bask in the light she seemed to bring with her everywhere she went.
“You ready for that tower run?” Royce asked him.
“Always.” That was such a lie. If he had to run the tower now, he’d puke. He was still stuffed with a food baby from the barbeque.
Mistakes had been made.
But his Grammie’s fried chicken was so good, and the pulled pork and…
“You’re lying like tile.”
“I know it,” Hayden admitted. “You are too. I’d like to see you haul yourself up those stairs today.”
“Only if something was literally, actually on fire.” Royce leaned back on the leather couch. “Mom’s taken a real shine to Sophie, hasn’t she?”
“Yeah, it seems like.” He didn’t have anything else to say about it. “Stop pushing, man.”
“Me? I wasn’t. I was just asking.” Royce wore his usual faux-innocent expression, which really meant he was about ready to stir the pot and start something.
“You’re as bad as Mom.” Hayden debated hitting the gym and at least getting some lifting in.
“Am I? She’d be so proud.”
Hayden rolled his eyes. “You need to worry about yourself.”
“I do. I’ve got a plan.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“No, it’s not for public consumption. Just suffice to say I’m not stagnating. I took my own advice.”
“I’m going to get some reps in.”
Royce laughed. “So either you’re running away or you know I’m going to win the tower.”
“You’re not winning shit, brother.” Hayden loved beating Royce. It was basically one of his favorite things in life.
“I wouldn’t want to win shit. See, there’s your problem,” Royce said, ever helpful.
“Do you guys ever stop?” Noah walked by, eating a sandwich. “Maybe you two should date.”
Royce was unfazed. “So I saw you talking to Erin Sterling.”
“Obviously. Everyone saw me talking to Erin, and a lot of other people.” He took another bite. “Actually, we were talking about something of interest.”
“Do tell,” Hayden asked. “Was it her phone number?”
“Of course. But it wasn’t for nefarious purposes. She wants to set up a fundraiser for that new shelter,” Noah said.
“Another calendar?” Royce patted his stomach. “I’m going to need a few weeks to get back to fighting shape.”
Noah laughed. “That and something new. A bachelor auction.”
“That could be fun. You in, Hayden?” Royce asked.
“If it’s for charity…” he shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
“What, no checking with Sophie?” Noah nudged him.
“No. We’re friends.” She’d be fine with it. Wouldn’t she? It hadn’t actually occurred to him that he’d need to check with her and it really didn’t sit well. They didn’t belong to each other like property.
He tried to imagine his father asking his mother. Or his mother asking his father. No, they’d inform the other of the thing they’d decided to do, but…
“So I can ask her out?” Noah prodded.
“You can ask,” Hayden said cheerfully. “But you won’t be so pretty with no teeth.” He was playing with Noah, or so he thought, but really, the idea of him asking Sophie out pissed him off in ways he didn’t want to think about. So much for not belonging to each other like property. Here he was acting like a Neanderthal.
Noah took zero umbrage, instead he laughed. “But yeah, you’re just friends.”
“To be fair, I wouldn’t let any of my friends go out with you. You’d break their hearts. We can’t have that,” Royce came to his defense.
“Why does no one worry about my heart?” Noah clutched his chest dramatically. “Are you in for the auction?”
“Sure, why not? Sounds like a good time.” Hayden was all about the charity and upon further consideration, he was sure Sophie would be, too.
“I told her she could count on us. I’ll let her know we’re in.” Noah pulled out his phone and began texting.
“Is that something you have to do often, Finnegan? Let a lady know you’re in?” Royce snickered.
“What, are we twelve?” Hayden asked. “Clean it up.”
“Yeah, sometimes.” Noah nodded.
“You guys got visitors,” Chance called up. “No hanky panky on the truck. After Backdraft came out, we couldn’t even have a training exercise without catching teenagers making out on the damn thing,” he grumbled.
Lt. Chance McCade was as grumpy as they made them, but he was a good man. His father’s best friend. Practically an uncle.
“Yes, sir.” Royce called down.
“No one is here to see you, Royce.” McCade snorted.
It was Sophie.
Today, she was wearing another dress. Mint green this time, with tiny yellow flowers. She looked fresh, and sweet.
She carried a picnic basket. “Your mom suggested I bring this by.” Sophie fidgeted. “She said it was okay, but if you’re busy…”
“No fires to speak of.”
Royce reached for
the basket and Sophie spun away. “No, sorry. There’s nothing for you.”
“My mother did not pack a basket and not send me anything.” Royce’s eyes narrowed.
“I’m afraid she did. She specifically said there was nothing inside for you. That you had to get your own friend to come by the house and pick it up for you.”
“He doesn’t have any friends,” Noah deadpanned.
“Neither do you, if we’re gauging it by who brings us picnics,” Bill said from his office. “Hell, Allison didn’t send me anything, either.”
“Bill, of course she did. I’ve got some strawberry shortcake in here just for you.” Sophie rummaged in the basket and handed him a red plastic container.
Bill grinned. “She still loves me.”
“Hayden, do you have time for lunch?” Sophie presented the basket.
“Show her the tower,” Royce offered helpfully.
He glared at his brother, knowing full well he remembered their earlier conversation.
“I’d love to see it,” she said.
He took the basket from her. “It’s quite a few stairs, but you can see all the way to the lake.”
She followed him, not complaining once about all those stairs. He was tempted to offer to carry her, but he did know his own limitations.
When they got to the top, she said, “Your mom said this would be okay.”
“It is. If the alarm goes, I’ll have to cut and run, but we don’t actually do very much. We hang around the station, help with fire/safety inspections, and do training exercises and continuing education. It’s not that glamorous.”
“It is a little bit, I mean, look at this view. And you get to come up here whenever you want. I’d be up here all the time.”
“If we’re not training, you can come up here whenever you like.”
“Really? Thank you!”
Her eyes sparkled and her smile was real, relaxed. He’d never much thought about what it was like on top the tower. What it would look like to someone who hadn’t had the opportunity to see it every day.
It really was breathtaking.
“So, I’m not actually hungry,” he said. “I’m glad you came though.”
“I thought you’d be tired of me by now.”
“Not a chance.” He took the blanket his mother had so thoughtfully provided in the basket and spread it out for them near the doorway so the overhang offered her some shade. “This friendship thing was a good idea.”
