Hayley looks at me as she slides the sweater into the basket she’s carrying over one arm. “Haven’t found anything yet?”
I have to snicker at this. “The only people I have to shop for are you, my grandmother, Maggie, and Lois. The latter two get gift baskets every year since what other option do I have? I can’t imagine buying anything else for them. Grandmother?” I look around at the inside of the store. “I doubt she’d want anything they offer here. It’s a little young for her. And a little too not fancy.”
“I’m sure she’d be glad to get whatever you gave her.”
“Oh? So, I should go with something like this?” I hold up a faux fur jacket, dyed a festive shade of green.
“Okay, maybe not that.”
“And I can’t shop for you right in front of you,” I finish with a shrug.
“So, why’d you come out? I know you hate shopping in actual stores.”
I follow her to a rack of dresses and watch as she flips through them. For one thing, observing her as she shops gives me an idea of what to get for her. Every so often, she’ll come across something and smile a little or tap her chin like she’s thinking of buying it for herself—before remembering she’s supposed to be shopping for her family.
“Is it enough to say, I’d put up with all kinds of torture just to spend time with you?”
That earns me a tremendous eye roll. “Oh, sure, I believe that one.”
“It’s sort of true. Hey, I was gonna go to that office Halloween party with you. Remember? That would’ve been a tremendous sacrifice.”
“If you’d gone.”
“I was going to! You decided we weren’t going when you found out who was performing there.”
Granted, it’s a shame I didn’t get to see Dustin fall off the yacht—after how he hurt my feelings, he deserved it—but I got plenty of enjoyment from watching video taken by Hayley’s coworkers.
She’s smiling when she looks back over her shoulder. “And you wanted to dish about what happened last night too. Don’t pretend.”
“You wanted the details. Don’t act like I hunted you down and put a gun to your head, demanding to tell you every little thing.”
“Okay, fine.” She goes back to looking through the racks. “Anyway, I’d assumed things would go a lot worse than they did last night. What with the chip you have on your shoulder about Bryce and all.”
“I wouldn’t call it a chip.” I sniff, a little offended.
“Sorry.” She glances at me. “A boulder.”
“Hush. Spoken like a girl who was never bullied.”
“You’re right. I got lucky, I guess.”
“You were always cool.” I hold up an adorable dress, soft pink, printed with polka dots. “What about this?”
“That’s something you’d like. Not my sister.”
“Hmm. Wouldn’t it be nice if somebody were to buy this for me in a size four?” I shrug while replacing the dress.
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” She barely hides a laugh as she moves to the next rack.
How she can shop so casually while what feels like hundreds of people are crammed together all at once, fighting for the last pair of leggings, is a mystery. She walks around in a bubble, this girl. A charmed bubble.
“I’m just saying …” I look back at the dress, which is super cute and would look great on me. Granted, I’d have to find someplace to wear it once the weather warms up. It’s a little dressy for my roof. “You might wanna pick that dress up before it’s gone.”
“What if I already bought you something?” Before I can retort, she changes the subject. “So, he kissed you. Was it any good?”
“He didn’t stick his tongue down my throat in the middle of the rink, if that’s what you’re asking. He has a little decency.”
“What a shame,” she sighs.
“I was on blades. I don’t know if I could’ve stayed upright if he had done any more than he did, so …”
“Did you feel tingly? Did you feel anything at all?”
“Besides surprised?”
“Besides surprised.”
“I mean, yeah. It was nice. It was really nice. More than nice. I wanted him too.”
“That’s a good sign.” She meets my gaze. “What next? Do you want there to be more?”
“I wish I could say. He’s a great guy. He’s good company. He’s hot.” I shrug. “But, you know, I don’t feel a spark.”
“You won’t let yourself feel a spark. I think that’s the problem.”
“You’re so wise, you know?”
“I know what I’m talking about, so don’t get snippy with me.”
“Have you ever considered writing an advice column? If the whole law thing doesn’t work out?”
She’s been friends with me long enough to know how to selectively ignore me. “You don’t want to like him. Which is why you won’t allow a spark.” When I roll my eyes, she adds, “Kitty, you knocked him on his ass in the middle of the rink, all because he went too fast for you and you freaked out.”
“That wasn’t my fault!”
“My point is, he wanted to kiss you anyway. That means something.”
“It was his big idea for me to be on skates. I warned him.”
“I hear you. But you’re missing my point. He likes you, Kitty. He used to like you, and he likes you now. He’s not the person he used to be. Why not let things happen the way they want to happen?”
“Oh, you know me. I think too much. I can’t let myself be in the moment and enjoy things.” And I certainly wish Matt’s advice wouldn’t come to mind at times like this.
“That’s a true story.” She grabs a pretty scarf and hat with a satisfied smile. “I think I’m finished with the family. I still have to pick up something for my Secret Santa at work. That’s always awkward.”
“I can’t imagine.” And I really can’t since I’ve never worked in an office and therefore never been subjected to buying a gift for somebody I don’t really know. “Alcohol?”
“No, because there might be people in the office who can’t or won’t drink.” She shrugs. “It’s a rule. So, maybe a gift card? But I don’t want to look like I didn’t put any thought into it. I’ll be that girl who couldn’t be bothered. I don’t want that reputation.”
“It could be worse. You could give them a candle that’s been sitting in your closet for years.”
“Damn it. I was just gonna suggest that.”
“So, do you think I should go to that Christmas party today at the firehouse?”
“Don’t even ask me, Kitty.”
“Ask you what?” Did I sound surprised enough? Do I look surprised enough?
“Ask me to go with you. The answer is no.”
“I wasn’t going to!”
“You were.” We inch our way up in line, behind at least eight other people waiting to be checked out. “God, this is when I remember why I hate shopping.”
I should let it go, right? Yes, I should let it go. If I keep arguing the point, it’ll look like I care too much. Like she caught me. Which she did. But she doesn’t need to know.
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Fine, fine. Anyway, even if I wanted to go, I can’t. I have too much work to do this weekend.”
“Would you come with if you didn’t have to work?”
“No, I probably wouldn’t. It’s not my scene, and Bryce isn’t the firefighter I’m dating.” She shrugs. “Sorry. You’ve gotta be a big girl. You’re the one who said you’d go. You’ve gotta face the music.”
Why am I low-key dreading this? I have no idea.
Bryce is a great person. Patient and gentle. The exact opposite of who I remembered him as. Maybe it’s the sense of confusion. Not knowing what to expect. I haven’t yet let go of my memories.
I need to do that.
“How’s the book coming along?” We’re finally at the front of the line, where Hayley dumps her items on the counter.
“It’s coming along.” I shrug. “A
little slow, but they usually start slow.”
The cashier looks back and forth between us. “You’re a writer?”
“I am.” I wave a hand while my cheeks flush. And it’s not from the excessive heat in this overcrowded store.
“What do you write?”
“She writes romance.” Hayley’s grinning from ear to ear.
I’d like to say she’s genuinely being a good friend right now, proud and all that. That she’s not putting me on the spot the way I put Matt on the spot during the auction.
I only wish I could believe that.
“I love romance! Oh gosh, it’s the only thing I read! What’s your name?”
We’re attracting attention now from the other girls behind the registers. “Um … you’ve probably never read me. Kitty Valentine.”
“Kitty Valentine?”
I’m pretty sure dogs around the corner heard her since she was so high-pitched that my ears almost couldn’t pick up her voice.
She puts a hand to her chest, bending over a little. “You’re Kitty Valentine?”
“She is.” Hayley puts an arm around my shoulders. “You’re a fan?”
“A fan? Oh, yeah, you could say that.” The girl—the tag on her shirt says her name is Meg—waves her hands in front of her face like she’s fighting back tears.
“Oh my gosh!” I honestly don’t know how to navigate this. I’ve never met a fan like this before, in the middle of a shopping trip. “That’s so sweet. I wish I knew what to say.”
“Your more recent work is so hot,” she whispers with a giggle. “I love it. Keep them coming, okay?”
“She’s working on a new book right now.” Hayley is enjoying this way too much. She knows too well how I clam up whenever I’m the center of attention.
“Did Matt put you up to this?” I mutter from the corner of my mouth while leaning over the counter for a selfie with Meg.
“I can’t believe I’m meeting my favorite author!” Meg gushes. “And I wasn’t even going to come to work today!”
It’s hard to keep from smiling as we leave the store.
“See?” Hayley whispers. “Your work means something to people. It’s easy to lose sight of that when you’re busy trying to figure out your personal life and how it ties into your characters.”
“You’re right. It is. It’s very easy to forget fans.” And that little interaction was just what I needed to get in writing mode again.
My public wants to read what I have to say.
I should’ve recorded that meeting for Maggie’s benefit. And for Lois’s when it comes time to negotiate my new contract.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Wow. You guys went all out!” I can’t help but stand back and gape at the way the firehouse kitchen has been decorated.
Four days ago, it was just a kitchen. Not so much as a hint of decoration to be seen. A handful of firefighters sat around, killing time.
Now? There are at least six trees, fully decorated and dripping with tinsel. Red, green, gold, and silver garland is draped over just about everything. Potted poinsettias fill the corners and surround the trees and decorate the tables now set up to accommodate the kids and their families. There’s music playing, tons of food, and roughly forty kids running between the bay and the kitchen, just about jumping out of their skin with excitement.
Which I’m sure is only helped by the cookies and cakes and candy canes they’re eating like there’s no tomorrow.
One of the firefighters hears me and shrugs with a sheepish grin. “We like to do it. And it makes the kids happy.”
“It’s terrific. And so sweet of you.”
“Which one’s yours?” he asks, surveying the kids.
“Oh, no, I’m not a mom or a nanny or anything like that. Bryce invited me.” I look around. “Where is he?”
“He’ll be out soon.” The guy winks at me. “You’ll see.”
I’ll see? Pretty cryptic, but I’ll go along with it for now.
It’s worth seeing the kids so happy. I can understand why it means a lot to the firefighters to put on a nice party for them.
Jim, the captain I met on Tuesday, can’t hide a wide smile when he enters the kitchen. Several of the kids run to him, grabbing him around the legs—clearly, he is a favorite of theirs. It’s really neat, seeing how much good the fire company does in the community.
Recognition washes over his craggy face as he joins me by the cookie tray. “I wondered if we’d see you again. I thought maybe we’d scared you away the other day.”
“Not at all. It was a thrill to watch you all get ready to go out and fight a fire. Invaluable too. For research.” Gee, I sound like a super-fun person right now, don’t I?
He doesn’t seem to mind, reaching past me to snag a cookie. “Don’t miss out on the chocolate chips. They are murder on my waistline, but they taste like heaven.”
“I’ve already had three,” I confess with a giggle.
“They’re my wife’s ‘signature recipe.’ ” He adds air quotes to this with a grin. “She only makes them during the holidays.”
“She could sell them and make a mint.” I nod toward the kids, who are all dancing to the upbeat music. “I’m sure their parents will thank you later for the sugar crash.”
The adults are lingering around the station, chatting, sitting at the tables set up just for today.
“Hey, this is the time of year for sugar crashes.” He folds his arms over his chest, laughing at the kids. “My wife and I, we never had any of our own. It’s nice to see happy kids at this time of year.”
He turns to me, looking me up and down. “So, what do you think about Bryce? He’s a good one.”
I have to laugh, a little sheepish. “I have to admit, I knew him back when we were kids, and he wasn’t my favorite person. But time has changed him.”
“Time changes all of us,” he acknowledges with a nod. “Maybe you can convince him not to take so many risks when he’s out on a call. None of us have been able to, I can tell you that much.”
Just like that, all the hectic, high-energy excitement around me fades into the background as I focus in on what he just said. “What do you mean?”
“I guess he never told you about that.” He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t expect him to. He doesn’t like to talk about the things he does.”
“I don’t understand.”
Now, he looks uncomfortable. Like he wishes he hadn’t said anything at all. “It’s just that I’ve known a lot of guys like him. They’re eager to be a hero. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to help people but not if it means unnecessary risks. My job is to keep all of us safe.”
“Are you saying he takes risks he shouldn’t?”
Rather than answering right away, he motions for me to follow him. Along one wall of the kitchen is an array of plaques and pictures. Some of the pictures are decades old, sepia-toned, of men who fought fires long before I was born.
Others are more recent. I recognize Bryce in one of them. He’s dressed well, shaking hands with the mayor, Jim and another uniformed man standing behind them.
“That’s when he got his citation.” Jim taps on the glass covering the picture. “That was a good day. I was proud of him; we all were.”
Then, he turns to me, lowering his voice. “But he took an awful risk. Yeah, he saved those kids’ lives, and that was a tremendous thing. But he almost died.”
I suddenly feel cold inside, though the room is plenty warm, thanks to all the crazy, energetic bodies running around. “How? What happened?”
“He took off his respirator after I pulled him back. It was a house fire, burning out of control. A big house, one of those old, historic townhouses. So much wood inside, so many flammable materials.
“He’d pulled out the parents along with a couple of the others, and I’d wanted him to sit back and catch his breath. He was already overwhelmed by the smoke and heat. But then somebody saw the kids waving from the third floor. The parents were unconscious, a
s the smoke had already gotten to them. We hadn’t known until then that there were kids inside the house.
“What did Bryce do? Didn’t even put his respirator back on, just took off running. I tried to stop him, but it was too late. He was already inside the house. I don’t know exactly how he pulled it off, but he got them out of there.
“And then he spent a few days in the hospital. He could’ve easily gotten himself and those kids killed because he hadn’t even taken the time to put his respirator on.”
He sighs, shaking his head. “Don’t get me wrong. Everybody wants to be a hero at some point. We all think we’re going to have our moment, you know what I mean? But it would’ve taken him all of fifteen seconds to make sure he’d taken precautions before going in there—and even then, I wouldn’t have sent him in alone.
“That’s how he always has to do it. On his own, the way he wants to, and that’s what worries me.”
I’m not sure what to say. Bryce and I aren’t that close yet, and it’s not like anything I might say to him would make a difference. I’m sure he wouldn’t like it if he knew Jim was talking about him this way behind his back. If anything, I can imagine the two of them have already had this out.
And I can imagine Bryce not wanting to listen to his captain’s advice.
“I’ll try to talk to him about it,” I offer as gently as I can. “I can see why you’re concerned about him.”
“I’ve been with this company for thirty years. My dad was a firefighter. Two of my uncles were firefighters. Their father was too. Over the course of my life, I’ve seen what happens to people who want to be heroes. There’s a time for that, and there’s a time for listening and working as part of a team.” He puts a hand on my shoulder, looking me straight in the eye. “Bryce is a good man. I would hate to see the world lose him.”
I don’t know what to say, but the shrieking of a few dozen kids pulls my focus away.
Kitty Valentine Dates a Fireman Page 8
