Fire at Dawn: The Firefighters of Darling Bay 2

by Lila Ashe

  “So you want me to date other men, too?”

  He shrugged. “Sure. Go on as many dates as you want. Hey, if you meet the love of your life and he’s someone else, I’ll pay for your vacation.”

  “All that dating just sounds like a lot of driving.” She meant it to be light, a joke, but he took it seriously.

  “No driving when we go out. I’ll drive.”

  Amused, Lexie said, “So you’re one of those? A guy who thinks he needs to be all macho and open my doors and everything?”

  Coin leaned back in the chair and kicked his work boots out in front of him. A lock of dark black hair brushed his forehead. He needed a haircut and, since it was late afternoon, a shave. He looked hot as sin and twice as dangerous. “Yeah.”

  Lexie took a moment to imagine what it would be like if she crawled into his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, put her mouth on his …

  Then she wondered if the chair was rated for two full-grown people. It would be just her luck that the chair would break and she’d land on top of him, breaking him. Then again, Coin was strong. She’d seen him in the halls after working out. Those muscles he carted around were no joke, his calves sculpted, his biceps defined.

  “Okay,” she managed. “I don’t need you to open my door. But I suppose I would let you do it if you had to.”

  He grinned, and she noticed that he had a dimple in his chin. Why hadn’t she ever noticed that? “I’ll call you tomorrow. When we’re off. And I’m going to ask you out.”

  “What—”

  “And you can tell me your answer tomorrow. Whatever it is. When we’re at work, we’re just at work. Normal.”

  <>

  Lexie wasn’t planning to tell a soul. Not one person.

  But Megan was so ridiculously receptive to other people’s emotions that she walked in, put the backup pager in its charger, took one look at Lexie, and even though Megan’s eyes were still bleary from sleep, demanded, “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” said Lexie, diligently pulling up her work email, hoping something critical had been sent to her inbox, something that she’d have to work on immediately.

  “Don’t lie. You’re a bad liar.”

  “I’m a good one.”

  “Nope, you suck. Did you have a bad call?”

  “No.”

  “CPR?”

  “No.”

  “Something happened.”

  Lexie rested her head on the table top next to the keyboard. “Coin has a crush on me.”

  Megan flapped her hand. “Oh. I thought something had happened.”

  “You knew?”

  “Who didn’t?”

  “Um, me.”

  “Do you return the sexy feelings?” Megan reached up in the cupboard for her tea but as usual, she was too short to reach.

  Lexie took down the box of tea for her. “Why do you keep it up there?”

  “I put it on the low shelf every week, and every week Sue puts it on the top one.”

  “Why don’t you just ask her to quit putting it up high like that?”

  Megan arched an expressive eyebrow. “And start world war three? You know what she’s like. Anyway. You didn’t answer my question. How do you feel about Coin?”

  911 trilled. Lexie lunged for it, catching it on the first ring. It was only a quick question about fire extinguishers, though, and the caller was directed to call fire prevention. “Nine years of doing this and I still can’t believe people call 911 for that kind of thing.”

  “I can’t believe the police dispatcher transferred it! Now. About Coin.”

  “You’re a dog with a bone.”

  “For good gossip like this?” Megan sat at her terminal, lowered the rack of monitors in front of her, and stared happily at Lexie. “You can call me any kind of dog you want.”

  “You tell anyone, you die.”

  “Honey, like I said, everyone knows—”

  “No one knows that he kissed me at his house Wednesday night.”

  Megan made a locking-her-lips-throwing-away-the-key move. Then she leaned forward. “More.”

  “That’s it.”

  “More.”

  Lexie couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. “I liked it.”

  “Of course you did. He’s hot.”

  “You think so?”

  “Coin Keefe? Who doesn’t think so? And?”

  “I can’t stop thinking about him now.” She covered her eyes with her hands and then peeked at Megan. “About my coworker. I always said I’d never date a fireman. Not after Dad … Anyway, they’re too …”

  “Life-savey?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Too handsome in their turnouts?”

  Lexie smiled.

  “Too kind to old people and children?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Lexie laughed. “I take your point. But what about you, then? You never date them, either.”

  “Honey, I hate firefighters.” But Megan’s smile took the sting out of the words. “Cockier bunch of men you’ll never meet. More, please.”

  Lexie felt herself blush. “He said he’s going to ask me out.”

  “You going to go?”

  Slowly, Lexie nodded.

  “Oh, girl. You’re in so much trouble.”

  Lexie put her head back down on the counter. “I know,” she mumbled. And inside her, deep inside her bones, she felt a burst of something that felt like joy mixed with fear. It felt like elation.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  As good as his word, Coin called the next day. Lexie thought about letting his call roll to voice mail. Chicken, she thought. She answered.

  “Do you want to go out with me tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  A silence. Then Coin said, “Wow.”

  “What was I supposed to say?” Lexie gripped the phone.

  “I just didn’t expect you to agree so easily.”

  “You gave me enough warning.” She’d laid in bed for hours last night, thinking about him. About this moment.

  Coin laughed, his voice low. The timbre of it sent an unexpected shiver through her. He said, “I won’t next time.”

  The shiver went deeper.

  “Seven. I’ll pick you up.”

  “What should I wear?”

  “You’ll look great no matter what.” His voice was so confident she almost believed him.

  Just Coin. It was just Coin. A date with him would be like doing the crossword. Or playing poker. Friend stuff. It would be normal.

  Or like juggling fireballs.

  At six p.m., Lexie started getting ready, telling herself it was ridiculous to start so early. At 6:45, she was sweating and cursing herself for not starting earlier. She’d tried on every outfit she owned, including outfits which were either twenty pounds too tight or twenty pounds too loose.

  She finally went with a lemon boat-necked shirt that made her hair look wildly red in contrast and her favorite pair of jeans. Once a guy at the gas station had remarked on the way they fit her, and she had to admit, while looking over her shoulder in the mirror, they suited her backside.

  Then there was the makeup question. Normally she only wore lip gloss and that was only on days she felt fancy. Coin was used to seeing her bare faced. But makeup made her feel more confident. She put on eyeliner. That looked good, a bit more sophisticated. She added mascara. Okay, even better. Maybe a little eye shadow, lemons and plums. Then she added blush, and a lip stain that promised to be kiss proof.

  Looking in the mirror, she had the sudden fear that she looked like her own slutty twin sister. That hadn’t been her goal, but her doorbell was ringing and she had no time to wipe any of it off. She wasn’t even sure if she could wipe off the lipstick. She might have permanently berry-stained lips now.

  Coin stood on her porch like it was a regular thing, when in fact Lexie realized he’d never been over. She’d been to his house many times—poker games and movie nights with the rest of A shift—but Lexie couldn’t remember him being
at hers.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Howdy,” Coin drawled.

  Lexie’s heart thumped. “You’ve never been here before, have you? Come on in.” She was proud of the way she’d decorated her little bungalow with cheerful colors and easy-to-live-in furniture. Her father had dabbled in painting, and while he’d never been very good, she loved his work. It was bright and loud, just like he’d been. The paintings looked good on her walls. It felt like home. The house might be a little untidy, but it was clean, and it was all hers, something she was proud of.

  “Sure,” he said, following her inside. “But I’ve been here before.”

  “You have?”

  “You had the flu. Two or three years ago. I brought you the turkey pot pie from Mabel’s Cafe.”

  “Oh,” Lexie said. So he’d not only been to her house and she didn’t remember, but he’d come over when she’d been looking her absolute worst, all red-nosed and snotty. “That’s right. Anyway,” she gestured around the living room. “This is the place.”

  “Mmm.” Coin nodded, not looking anywhere but at her.

  “What?”

  “You look pretty.”

  “I don’t look like a hooker?”

  Coin’s look of heated intensity crumbled and he whooped. “No. Why?”

  “Because of all the makeup. I think maybe if I walk downtown, I could pick up a client or two.”

  “You’d have to wear higher heels than that,” he said. “And I’d recommend a short skirt instead of those jeans. But yeah, you’d get some business.”

  Suddenly conscious of the fact that they were discussing her getting paid for sex, Lexie blushed from the roots of her hair to her toes. No, this wasn’t fair. She wasn’t supposed to be the one who blushed—Coin was. He was the shy, quiet one. Not her.

  Grabbing her wallet, she said, “I’m ready.”

  “Good,” Coin said. “Me, too.”

  Lexie knew that sound in Coin’s voice. He had it on the radio when he got on scene first at a fire and took incident command. He got that sound when he was telling his daughter on the phone that it was her bedtime and that she should stop arguing with her mother.

  He had it now, too. He was determined and ready.

  Lexie felt as if she were holding invisible sparklers as they stepped off her deck into the evening.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Coin had cleaned out his truck, throwing out the litter Serena left behind her, but it was still awkward as they drove.

  “Nice night.” It was probably the dumbest thing he’d ever said in his life.

  “Mmmm.”

  He didn’t know how to talk to her. Not like this. Not on a date. At work, yeah. He could—and did—spend hours in dispatch talking about nothing in particular and everything in general. Didn’t matter if it was a political argument or a limerick contest, the thing he liked best about Lexie was that she always seemed to want to listen to him.

  She really listened. And she didn’t let him get away with anything, either. When his voice dropped because something was hard to talk about, she called him out on it.

  “You’re good to talk to.” His voice was too loud in the cab of truck and Lexie jumped. He didn’t blame her. The comment came from silence, out of nowhere.

  “Um. Thanks?”

  Perfect. Compliment the woman on how good she was to talk to when they weren’t talking. Now this was the dumbest thing he’d ever said in his life. Who knew he could top himself twice in two sentences?

  One night, about five years ago, he’d been sent on a vehicle versus pedestrian call. The engine beat the rescue squad there, and Coin was the first person out of the rig. The little girl who’d been hit while riding her bike had been about the same age that Serena had been then, maybe six or so. He’d looked down at the child, lifeless in his hands, and for one long minute, maybe sixty seconds or so, her face changed in front of him. When he looked down at the girl, he couldn’t see her—he could only see Serena’s face. It wasn’t something he was imagining. She didn’t mildly resemble his daughter. For about a minute, the little girl was his daughter, and by the time the medic on Rescue One took over breaths for him, he knew that his brain was just playing a particularly horrible joke on him.

  The little girl that day hadn’t been breathing when they pulled up, and she still hadn’t been breathing when the ambulance screamed away toward the hospital. She never breathed again. Coin was the one who caught the mother in his arms when she came running down the street toward them, alerted by a neighbor that something was wrong. He was the one who’d held her as she kicked and beat and clawed at him. He put her in the engine with Tox’s approval, normally something they never did, and he rode in the back with her, holding her like he was the seat belt that could keep her from this awful, unacceptable crash from which the woman would never recover.

  And he knew for one moment—for those sixty seconds—what it would feel like to know his own daughter would never breathe again.

  They’d dropped the mother off at the hospital. They’d checked in with the rescue squad who were as shaken as the engine crew. They went to the grocery store and bought the steaks they’d forgotten to get in the morning shopping trip because that’s what firefighters did. They just kept moving and doing what had to be done. If someone died on you in the morning, it didn’t mean you automatically got to save the dead guy in the afternoon.

  When they’d gotten back to the station, he hadn’t told anyone what had happened to him. The way he’d seen his daughter instead of the patient—that was the kind of crap that got you kicked off the line if you weren’t careful.

  But Lexie had known in her usual Lexie way, and that night, when he’d gone down to take her a leftover brownie from a pan a citizen had dropped off, she’d said, “What happened?”

  He had shrugged. “She died. It happens.”

  “No,” she had said. “What happened to you?”

  He’d told her, and if he was perfectly honest with himself, he could admit that he’d cried that night. She’d pretended not to notice, but she’d shoved the Kleenex box closer to him and had made a pot of coffee so he could collect himself. Then she’d told him to call Serena before he went to bed, something he didn’t always do, and hadn’t even thought about doing that night. It was such an obvious answer. It had just taken Lexie listening to him to get the answer he needed.

  Now, as they drove toward the water, he said, “Sorry. I’m being awkward, huh?”

  “Yeah,” she said, keeping her gaze out her window. “But that’s okay. I’m used to you being awkward.”

  He laughed. I love you, he wanted to say. He couldn’t say it. But damn if he didn’t want to.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The cemetery. He’d taken her to the cemetery.

  Lexie couldn’t decide whether to be happy or to punch him in the arm. She settled on just saying, “I had no idea you were a vampire.”

  He reached into the bed of the truck and pulled out a black backpack. “Vampires don’t hang out at cemeteries. Only ghouls do. And goths. I suppose they do, too.”

  Feeling for a moment as if she should dig in her heels, Lexie said, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  Cheerfully, Coin said, “Nope.”

  “You’re not?”

  “Not even a little bit. But I’m hoping it’s a good idea. I’m hoping it’s a great one, actually.” He turned to face her, and Lexie realized that even with the early fall evening around them, he filled her vision in a way she’d never noticed before. He seemed taller than the clear blue sky above them. A vineyard skated the edge of the cemetery and the yellow leaves of the grape vines echoed the color of the sycamore leaves. Far in the distance, over the rooftops of Darling Bay, the ocean sparkled blue and deep green.

  And she couldn’t take her eyes off Coin.

  He smiled at her. “You can do this,” said Coin. “Besides, I have something I want to show you.”

  “Don’t take me there,” said Lexie. She
couldn’t go to her father’s grave. She hadn’t been back since they’d buried him, not once.

  “I won’t. Not unless you want me to. I have something else to show you.”

  “This is officially the worst date I’ve ever been on in my life.”

  He smiled. “Just wait! It gets worse!”

  Lexie reached forward and took the hand he offered. There was no way she was going to walk down those paths alone.

  <>

  Night dropped slowly as they walked, turning the air a soft blue. The cemetery was enormous—something Lexie had forgotten. It was beautiful, she could admit that, especially in the golden fall sunset. Low rolling green hills were dotted with markers that went as far back as the early 1800s, something that wasn’t common on a stretch of land so far west. The settlers who were buried here were the ones who’d fought their way to the coast, battling their way across mountains and deserts with a desire to see the Pacific and make a new home.

  To the right, where Coin was leading them, were the crypts that resembled small, ornate houses made of marble. Some were from the turn of the last century, but Lexie could tell some were newer. Cleaner. People were still building homes for the afterlife, something that struck Lexie as both morbidly strange and eerily hopeful.

  “Over here.” Coin said. He gave her hand a squeeze, and for one moment Lexie imagined pulling on his hand, making him turn to hold her. She wanted Coins arms wrapped around her shoulders. If she could just bury her face in his jacket for a moment, maybe she wouldn’t be feeling so lightheaded … What if they accidentally walked past her father’s grave? That day had been such a blur—she couldn’t remember where on the grounds his stone was. What if she just glanced down and read the words Robert Tindall? She felt her hand go clammy in Coin’s. Her stomach muscles contracted, and her footsteps slowed.

  “Hey, now.” Coin stopped. “You okay?” He looked carefully at her face. “We can go back if you want.” He touched her shoulder.

  Lexie gritted her teeth, sucking air around them. Then she said, “Is this going to be worth it?”

  Coin touched her chin. “I’m taking you to see where my dad is, not yours.”

  His father? That was enough to shock her out of worrying about herself. He hated his father. It was the one thing Lexie had never been able to get him to tell her much about. “Why?”