Kitty Valentine Dates a Fireman

by Dodd, Jillian

  He cupped her cheek in his palm. “You love me, huh? I told you so. I told you it was impossible for you to not fall in love with me.”

  “Don’t make me regret telling you that, okay?” She pressed a firm kiss onto his upturned mouth. “Yes, I love you. I love you like crazy. And I need you in my life—forever. Is that okay?”

  His smile was practically blinding. “I don’t have anything else planned.”

  “Not the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard, but …”

  He looked around. “We’re in the ER. I don’t know how romantic things can get here.”

  I can’t help but smile a little as I read over what I just wrote. Yes, this works much better than my original ending. Maggie was right, as always.

  That’s how things should’ve gone with Bryce, isn’t it? Not that I love him. Not that I would tell him I loved him, like, three weeks after we started dating.

  But it would’ve been nice if I could’ve admitted I was growing certain feelings. That I needed him to take care of himself or else risk crushing my heart.

  It didn’t occur to me until just now that if I saw any future for the two of us, I might’ve asked him to keep me in mind the next time he felt the need to be a hero.

  But I don’t see it. And I’m not going to try to force anything that’s just not there. Not even if he wants me to, which I very much get the feeling he does.

  After talking with Grandmother, once my tears dried up and I soaked in enough of her perfume and the quiet strength of her arms, it was clear. This is what I have to do.

  Which is why I change out of oh my God, I have a deadline clothes and into sometimes, I venture out into normal society clothes. Because I asked him to come by after his shift ended. Because there’s something we need to talk about.

  And it comes as no big surprise that he shows up on time. Always punctual. Just another reason he’s the total package. I can’t stand when people don't respect your time.

  “Hey.” He gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek before handing me a single rose. “I saw this, and it asked me to bring it to you.”

  I can’t stand how perfect he is or how my heart basically withers until it must look like a peach pit when he hands me the flower.

  “Thank you,” I whisper. Amazing that I can still whisper with a heart so withered and hard.

  What’s wrong with me? Why am I about to do what I’m about to do? He’s perfect. He’s wonderful and thoughtful and kind. And sexy and hot and damn good with his fingers and his mouth …

  I have to shake myself to stay on track. Otherwise, we might end up in bed again. Which would definitely go against the entire purpose of this little meeting.

  “This is so sweet. Come on in.”

  “Hey, you got a tree after all.” He admires my little tree, one I picked up at a corner lot after leaving my grandmother’s yesterday. I only got as far as putting it in water with Matt’s help before deciding I was too tired to go down to my storage space for decorations, so it’s still bare. “It’ll look great with lights.”

  “Yeah, I needed a little holiday cheer.” Soon, he’ll know exactly how much. “Though I’m on edits with my book, and it’s hard to carve out the time to do anything else.”

  “I’d love to help you with it.” He turns to me with a wide grin. “And whatever else you need. If you’re busy, I can cook dinner.”

  Gosh, it’s tempting. Wouldn’t it be easy to give in and say okay? Wouldn’t it be nice to have Bryce in my life? Warm and comforting.

  Except for when a fire breaks out and I have to worry myself half to death because if there’s one thing he’ll always care about more than he cares about me, it’s being a hero.

  Making up for what he did back in the day, even when what he did was a result of what had been done to him.

  “Bryce? Come sit down with me.”

  My knees are shaking as I walk to the sofa and fold myself up in one corner. He sits close to me, though there’s now tension in his shoulders, in the way he sits upright rather than relaxing against the cushions.

  “I’m getting the feeling you didn’t ask me to come over to decorate your tree.” He chuckles without a trace of humor. “What is it? What do you need to say?”

  Well, here we go. The door’s open. The light’s green. All I have to do is move.

  “I …” Why is this so hard? “After what happened a couple days ago, I’ve done a lot of thinking.”

  “So have I.”

  Not what I expected. If anything, the fact that he can’t let me get through a simple explanation without interrupting is more than enough reason for me to keep going. It makes me feel a little less guilty.

  “Why don’t I explain what I was thinking since you asked for what I needed to say?”

  “Of course. It’s just that I think I know what you’re going to say.”

  “So, why did you ask?”

  “I’m sorry.” He holds up his hands, surrendering. “I think you’re gonna tell me this isn’t working and that it won’t work, and I agree.”

  “Oh.” Yet another unexpected surprise. “Why? Am I not good enough?”

  He reels back like I just slapped him. “No! No. Did I say that?”

  “Well, you’re telling me it’s not going to work between us.”

  “It’s not but not because of you. You …” He waves a hand over me. “You’re perfect. I can’t think of a single thing wrong with you.”

  The man doesn’t know me well, obviously.

  Now’s not the time to be self-deprecating.

  “So, why wouldn’t it work?”

  “It’s me. The problem’s me.” He presses a hand to his chest. “I’ve still got a lot of shit to work through, Kitty. I didn’t know how much until now, until you. And I’ll always be grateful to you for coming into my life and showing me what I need to learn.”

  Wow. Here I was, thinking I’d be the one doing all the talking. It’s more than a little unnerving—the fact that I thought I’d have to argue my point when he’s the one doing all the arguing for me.

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Holy jeez, what am I doing? Trying to talk him out of this? The man handed me the perfect out, and I’m ruining it.

  But I can’t let him hate on himself.

  “You’re a good man, Bryce. One of the best. You need to be at peace with yourself.”

  “That’s easy for you to say.”

  “Maybe it is because I have the luxury of looking in from the outside, and I see how much you’ve grown.” I have to laugh a little. “That’s something I’ve been talking about with my grandmother lately. It’s funny it’s coming up again now. I guess that’s how life works. We keep having the same lessons shoved in our faces until we learn.”

  I lean over and take his hand. “I can see the big picture of you. You’re amazing. But you’re also right. You have to get a few things in check. You have to start liking yourself, and I know that sounds corny. You need to accept the way things were and move on, or you’ll never be satisfied with yourself. And eventually, you’re gonna do something that ends up getting you hurt. Or worse.”

  “I know. Jim just about shouted himself hoarse once he decided to tear into me at the hospital. He’s convinced I’ll get myself killed.”

  “That would be a real shame because you have so much to give the world. You’ve already touched so many lives in a positive way. Imagine how much more there is for you to do. I would hate to see the world lose you, Bryce.”

  “It’s not enough to make you want to be with me though, is it? I’m not blaming you or trying to make you feel bad, I swear.”

  Instead of dropping his hand, which is pretty much what I want to do right now because he basically just called me out, I hold it tighter. “I wish it were enough, but it isn’t. And not because of what happened a long time ago. I don’t think I have it in me to date anyone who works in a dangerous profession. My imagination is too vivid.”

  He winces, though a snicker follows. “Yeah, t
hat must suck.”

  “You have no idea what went through my head when I watched those reports online. And then when I couldn’t get you on the phone? Forget about it. It was torture. And I would go through that every time there was a big fire. I don’t have it in me to live like that. Which is why this is my problem. My fault.”

  “Not your fault. It’s who you are. Some people wouldn’t dream of doing what I do. I couldn’t dream of cutting a person open and poking around inside, but that doesn’t stop a person who’s meant to be a surgeon.”

  “Good point.”

  He must hear the sadness in my voice because he grins before lifting my hand and kissing my knuckles. “You’re pretty amazing too, you know.”

  “Not so much.”

  “If you say so—though I and probably everybody else in the world feel differently. You’re the best. And I hope someone who sees it and is right for you comes along. I wish it were me. I can’t lie.”

  There’s a lump in my throat, so at first, I can only nod. “Me too,” I croak.

  “I guess I’d better let you get back to your work.” He eyes the laptop sitting across the room. “Be kind, okay?”

  “Very kind. I’ve already written all the good stuff. You don’t have a thing to worry about.” Once I’m on my feet, I give him a tight hug. “Thank you for everything.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “That’s not true. You showed me it’s possible for a person to turn things around and make the world better.” I pull back with a smile I don’t quite feel, not with tears threatening to spill over. “Do you think I run across people like you every day, here, in the city?”

  “I guess not. Take care of yourself Kitty.”

  “You take care of yourself,” I say before walking him to my door and saying our final goodbyes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me to my grandmother’s house?” I ask while handing Matt a mug of spiked hot chocolate.

  “Are you sure this isn’t going to give me the sugar crash to end all sugar crashes?” he asks in reply, eyeing me over the top of the mug.

  “Nah.” Meanwhile, I’m sliding a candy cane into his mug. “Just a nice little buzz from the Peppermint Schnapps.”

  “I can handle that.”

  “And the chocolate liqueur.”

  He pauses before raising the drink to his lips. “Um.”

  “But that’s it. One little hot chocolate isn’t going to ruin your entire Christmas, Mr. Healthy.”

  “You’re usually pretty health-conscious. Most of the time.”

  “Not on Christmas Eve, Matt.” I touch my mug to his. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas.” He takes a tentative sip and then nods in approval. “Okay, I can get behind this.”

  “Good. Because I plan on having at least one more before leaving for the night. And tomorrow. And probably the day after.” Just thinking about it makes me want to pour another mug for myself and double-fist them.

  Matt takes a seat near the tree, finally glowing with white lights. “Why are you dreading spending Christmas with your grandmother? I thought you’d be glad to be with her, especially after …”

  “Believe me”—I sit across from him with the tree between us, sipping my peppermint-chocolate creation. I did a pretty good job, considering I was winging it the entire time—“I’m beyond happy to spend this holiday with her. That was another thing that went through my head at one point—what it would be like to spend Christmas without her.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not. I mean, I am. Don’t get me wrong. But sometimes, we have to be reminded of how fleeting life is. How precious it is.”

  “I agree.” He nods toward my mug. “So, why are you desperate to get a buzz on before you go?”

  “She can’t drink. No more alcohol at her house. So, I’d like to enjoy a little before I get there, if only to get through the millions of questions she’s going to ask about Bryce.” Just the mention of his name has me taking another sip.

  “Oh. Right. I’d want to drink too.”

  “It’s worth it though. I’ll deal with the discomfort so long as it means having her around.”

  “She’s lucky to have you.”

  “You should come with me. At least for dinner.”

  “Nah.” He shakes his head, firm. “It’s a night for family. I celebrated with my family last week, and it was great. Phoebe and I will spend the night with some chow mein and a few old movies, and it’ll be a good Christmas Eve.”

  “You don’t have any cool parties to go to or anything?”

  “Nothing I feel like going to.” He smirks, lifting the mug to his lips. “You know, if the answer were, No, I don’t have any parties I’m invited to, that question might’ve depressed the hell out of me.”

  “Oh gosh, I never thought of that. I always imagine you being—I don’t know, popular. Well-liked.”

  “I am.”

  “Like you would tell me if you weren’t.”

  “You know I wouldn’t.” We share a quiet laugh. “But I’m an introvert at this time of year. It’s weird. I don’t know why. I feel very … thoughtful. Not in the mood for a party where I’d know only a few people and have to repeat the same tired conversations. Where do you work? Where do you live? Where did you go to school?” He yawns loudly, patting his mouth.

  “That does sound boring. You should bring Phoebe! She’d brighten things up.”

  “Yeah, and demolish the tree or knock over the menorah or eat all the hors d’oeuvres. I don’t think it’d be worth the risk.”

  “Smart.” I finish off my drink and then get up to pour another. “You want more?”

  “Sure. It’s Christmas Eve, like you said.” He eyes a small pile of gifts near the tree. “Who are those presents for?”

  “Hayley. She’s coming over this weekend for a belated celebration. I have Grandmother’s packed in my bag.”

  “Hmm.” He looks thoughtful as he gazes at the twinkly tree. “There’s one missing, I think.”

  “Huh?” I don’t see a problem. “There are three boxes for Hayley.”

  “I meant the one I was gonna leave under there for you.” Before I have a second to gasp or groan or curse myself for not thinking of him, he pulls a small envelope from his pocket and lays it down on the kitchen counter.

  “Oh, Matt.” I close my eyes, a palm on my forehead. “I didn’t get anything for you.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it isn’t.” In spite of the lightness in his voice and the fact that he sounds sincere, I feel like the biggest idiot.

  Matt is infuriating. He’s an egomaniac. He’s a genius when it comes to pointing out my every flaw. And when I get mad, he laughs harder.

  But he’s still my friend. He’s had my back more than once.

  And I didn’t even think to get him a gift card.

  “It is. You had a book to write. Your grandmother had a heart attack. You dated and then dumped a firefighter. You’ve had a big holiday season.”

  “I owe you dinner sometime soon. For real. My treat.”

  “I’ll take you up on that for sure. I never turn down a free meal.” He nudges the envelope across the granite countertop. “Go ahead. Open it.”

  I can’t believe I was so thoughtless. He’s not wrong when he says it’s been a big holiday season. I’ve had more ups and downs than any season in recent memory. But that’s not an excuse.

  Especially when I see how thoughtful he was. “A coupon book!”

  “I saw an ad for a customized one online and couldn’t resist. Read them.”

  “This coupon entitles you to one day with no snarky comments.” I look up from the coupon to the man who gifted it to me. “Um, this is a pretty big promise. Are you sure you can handle that?”

  “I’m a strong man. I can do anything.”

  “Mmhmm.” I flip to the next coupon. “One free request for killing a spider? Um, were you plan
ning on charging from now on?”

  “I’m just saying, I can’t always come running when I’m in the middle of doing something. Maybe you need to learn how to kill spiders on your own.”

  “Maybe you’re wrong.”

  “That’s good for one more spider-kill before I start asking for payment.” He taps it with one finger. “Payment to be decided upon by me, of course.”

  “What a surprise. Looks like I’m gonna have to take matters into my own hands.”

  The rest of them are like that. Surprisingly affable.

  “This is very sweet. Thank you for taking the time to come up with the ideas for them. Thank you for thinking of me at all!”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I mean, I still owe you a rug.”

  “And you will keep owing me a rug until I’m tired of holding it over your head that you puked on mine.” He polishes off his drink and then takes my mug. “Enough stalling. Your grandmother’s waiting for you.”

  He’s right. I need to get moving. Except I feel worse than I did before.

  It was one thing to leave him here alone before he gave me a present.

  Now? I feel like a total piece of garbage.

  “I’m fine. I’m fine,” he assures me, waving me on from his front door. “Go. Tell her I said merry Christmas and I hope she’s feeling better.”

  “I will.” My heart’s a little heavy though. I can’t help but wonder if he means it when he insists this is how he wants it.

  And I can’t help but wonder if Bryce is working tonight. If he isn’t, where is he? Should I really have broken things off with him just days before Christmas? Am I completely heartless?

  Once I’m in a car and on my way to Grandmother’s, I remind myself that he was thinking along the same lines I was. He came to my place to tell me he had a lot of self-reflecting to do. This wasn’t a one-sided thing.