The Wedding Dilemma (Mile High Firefighters)

by Mariah Ankenman

  He kissed the top of her head. “You didn’t know.”

  But she did now, because he’d shared with her. Shared something he’d never told anyone else. The weird thing was a part of him felt lighter. As if somehow telling Tamsen had lifted some dark spot off his soul he’d been carrying around for years. He trusted her with something he’d never shared with anyone because Parker generally didn’t trust people.

  But he found himself trusting her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Parker finished replacing the sheets on his bunk. He had two more hours left on his shift, then he was off for the next forty-eight. He liked his down time as much as the next person, but lately he’d been enjoying it a lot more, and he knew why.

  Tamsen.

  He still couldn’t quite believe he’d shared all the stuff about his dad with her the other night. He never talked about his dad. With anyone. Even his crew at the station knew next to nothing about Parker’s old man. But Tamsen…she made him feel comfortable, safe. He could share things with her without fear of judgment.

  “Hey, dude.”

  He turned to see Ward standing in the doorway of the bunk room.

  “You off shift soon?”

  Parker nodded. “Yeah, few more hours, then I’m out of here.”

  “And off to see your special lady?” Ward waggled his eyebrows.

  “Special lady?” Parker snorted. “Channeling your inner eighty-year-old today, man?”

  “No, I’m channeling my inner I don’t want Díaz on my ass for saying ‘woman’ today.”

  He laughed, knowing Ward would eventually say something that would annoy Díaz. It was a day that ended in Y, meaning the probability was high.

  “So,” Ward continued. “You and Tamsen?”

  Parker crossed his arms over his chest, staring at his friend and crewmate. “Tamsen and I what?”

  Ward held up his hands. “Don’t get pissy, dude. I’m just saying you talk about her a lot, text her a lot, seem happier since you met her.”

  Did he? He rubbed at the warm spot in his chest. The one that had started as a small spark the first moment he set eyes on her, sitting in her apartment with a thick white plaster cast stuck to her. It had grown, getting warmer with each interaction. Each silly blunder he witnessed. She might think they were disasters, but to him, being around Tamsen was an adventure.

  Never boring, that was for sure.

  “Hey, O’Neil,” Ward called as the man passed by the door. “What’s your opinion of Tamsen and Parker?”

  O’Neil stopped and glanced between the two men. “Didn’t know I was supposed to have an opinion, but I like her. She’s nice. A little accident prone, but a cool person. I didn’t know you guys were a thing—”

  “We’re not.” At least not openly. But this was the station, and gossip spread faster than a forest fire in the middle of June. “And why the hell are we talking about my love life? Don’t you all have better things to—”

  A loud siren screeched through the air, cutting off the rest of his tirade. His body tensed, recognizing the call to action. Ward and O’Neil turned and rushed out of the room, Parker hot on their heels. He followed his crewmates, racing to the bay where the trucks were.

  “Office fire on 18th and Larimer,” Chief Jeffords shouted as everyone raced over to their bunk gear. “People stuck inside.”

  Parker jumped into his boots, pulling up the straps on his turnout trousers, before slipping on his turnout jacket. He grabbed his helmet and tank, heart racing with anticipation and a pinch of fear. It was always this way, no matter how many fires he responded to. There was always the thrill of excitement. The rush of adrenaline. The high they each rode from doing a dangerous but necessary job. He felt like a superhero, but he also knew the risks.

  Fire was deadly, and it didn’t care how much training or caution you used around it. Given the opportunity, it would burn you alive. It was best to approach his job with cautious enthusiasm.

  He hopped into the truck with his crew, Turner at the wheel. The sirens blipped on, their loud peal warning drivers of the emergency as they headed out of the station and onto the streets of Denver. The damn one-way streets in the city were always a pain in the ass, but Turner had been driving the rig long enough to know exactly how to get them where they needed to go.

  In less than five minutes from when the call came in, the truck was pulling up to the scene. Smoke billowed out of the windows of a tall office building.

  “Do we know what floor the fire is on?”

  “Third floor,” Turner said from his position in the driver’s seat. “It’s not spreading yet. Ladder 41 is already on the scene. They got most of the people out, but there’s still half a dozen in there.”

  The stations in Denver often worked together on the bigger calls, and from the flames Parker could see flicking out the windows on the third floor, this had the potential to be a very bad call.

  “Let’s go,” Díaz called as she hopped out of the truck.

  Parker followed her as they all hustled into the building. The first floor had already been cleared. They hurried over to the stairwell, his muscles protesting a bit as he hauled himself up the stairs at a fast clip. Running with forty-five pounds of gear on wasn’t easy, but they trained for this exact situation.

  He told his body to suck it up and do its job.

  When they reached the third-floor door, he moved to it, glancing down at the bottom. No smoke or flames billowed out from underneath. Satisfied they wouldn’t be opening the door to a wall of flames, he carefully moved in, his crewmates following close behind him.

  Visibility immediately plummeted as the hazy wall of smoke surrounded them. Parker’s heart raced, his gaze scanning his surroundings, clocking every important detail. They were in an open-concept office-type room. Huge with zero walls or doors. Great for spotting people. Also great for fires to spread. Fire needed lots of room to grow, plenty of oxygen, and this room was filled with it.

  “There!” Ward shouted, pointing to a group of people huddled underneath a long table at the far side of the room.

  Parker raced over, bending down low as he approached the group.

  “Denver Fire,” he shouted over the roar of the flames and sobs of the scared group. “We’re going to get you out of here. Is anyone hurt?”

  There were more sobs, a few headshakes, and one woman who nodded.

  “I lost my glasses, and there’s so much smoke I can’t see anything. I forgot everything they taught us and—”

  She choked on a cry, her coworker wrapping an arm around her in comfort. People often panicked in emergency situations. No matter how many fire drills someone did, the real thing was far scarier and more disorienting.

  “Are you the only ones left? Is anyone else on this floor?”

  “June,” a younger man in a gray hoodie said, his eyes going wide with terror. “Where’s June?”

  “She was getting coffee in the kitchen,” the first woman said, tears pouring down her face.

  “Where?”

  She pointed to the back of the room, where Parker saw a small open doorway filled with smoke. What made his heart stop was the orange flames he saw popping out.

  “I’m on it,” Parker said with determination, then turned to the others. “You got them?”

  “We’ve got them,” Turner reassured him. “But you sure you want to go in there?”

  But Parker had already stood, booking it across the room, knowing his crewmates were taking the others out to safety. When he reached the kitchen doorway, he ducked low, trying his best to see in the dense, dark smoke.

  “June!” he shouted as loud as he could. “June! Denver Fire Department. Can you hear me?”

  Heat bombarded his body as he stepped into the room. His suit was fireproof, but the heat still got through. He ignored his body’s protest, the innate
instinct ingrained in every human that told them to run where there was danger. He didn’t run from anything.

  Staying low, he scanned the room. His heart leaped in his chest as he spotted a small lump of a figure in the back corner of the small kitchen area. The fire had consumed the cabinets on the wall and was eating away at the ceiling, but his path to the woman was clear.

  “June?” He rushed over to her, sending out all the hope he had in the world she was breathing.

  “Cough, cough.”

  Relief loosened his tense body as he saw the woman move, heard her lungs working to expel the gritty smoke from them. Wouldn’t work until he got her out of here.

  “I’m from the fire department, June. I’m here to help.”

  He saw her eyes open slightly, relief filling them as she lifted her arms. She was clearly too weak to walk by herself. Too much smoke inhalation. He had to get her out of here.

  Scooping her up into his arms, he turned and headed back toward the door. Just as he got there, a loud, smacking pop rent the air. Debris tumbled down in front of him as pieces of the ceiling collapsed in the doorway.

  “Fuck!”

  A large metal beam had fallen right in his path, blocking the exit.

  “Kincaid!”

  He heard the shouts of his crewmates. They must have come back after getting all the people out.

  “O’Neil?”

  “Yeah, we’re here.”

  “I found June; she’s taken in a lot of smoke and needs to get out of here.”

  “Can you fit through that space down there?”

  Carefully, Parker maneuvered the woman in his arms. He saw O’Neil thorough a small space near the floor, between the beam and the doorway. Big enough to pass a woman in casual business attire through. Not big enough for a firefighter in full bunk gear.

  Didn’t matter. He had his priorities. Get the victim to safety, worry about himself later.

  “I can pass her through.”

  “Okay.”

  Gently, he maneuvered June through the small space into the steady arms of his crewmate. Once O’Neil had her in hand, he turned and hustled back toward the stairs.

  “Kincaid,” Ward shouted as the fire roared around them. “We’re gonna get you out of there.”

  The shattering of glass sounded, meaning the fire was superheating the windows and exploding them. Things were going FUBAR real quick.

  “Guys, get the hell out!” He didn’t want his friends getting injured or worse, dying, all because his ass was stuck. He’d find a way to escape, but he was not risking them.

  “Fuck no, dude,” Ward replied.

  “We are not leaving you,” Díaz agreed.

  “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Danger is my middle name.” Ward laughed as he inspected the beam, searching for a solution to get Parker out. “Actually, it’s Peter, but—”

  “For shit’s sake, Ward, now is not the time!” Díaz yelled.

  A smile curled Parker’s lips. Even in a deadly situation with flames all around them, his friends could manage to make him laugh.

  “Kincaid.” Ward’s tone dropped the joviality. “Do you think you can squeeze through if we give you a few more inches?”

  He glanced at the small space he’d just passed June through. “Maybe. I’ll have to take my tank off.”

  “Do it,” Díaz commanded.

  He unstrapped his tank, shoving it through the hole to the other side. His helmet would be a pain to get through, but no way was he taking that off.

  “Ready!” he called to them.

  “Okay, Díaz, on three.”

  His vision was obstructed by the beam and all the smoke, but he could just make out his friends positioning themselves to lift the massive ceiling beam. Something physiologically they shouldn’t be able to do, but he knew in situations like this, adrenaline could give people superhuman strength. He just hoped this was one of those times.

  “One…two…three!”

  Parker heard the grunting from Ward and Díaz as they pressed hard against the beam. The large obstruction started to shift, moving slightly. Centimeter by centimeter, they lifted until Parker saw his shot. He dove through, squeezing his body, made thicker by all the gear he had on, with all his might. Once he was fully through, he shouted, “Clear!”

  His friends dropped the beam with a shattering crash.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here,” Díaz said.

  He nodded his agreement, grabbing his tank, and raced with them toward the stairwell door.

  Outside the building was pure chaos. Ladder 41 was busy dragging a hose up their aerial. He heard Turner shout “all clear!” before a heavy stream of water let from the hose and into the third floor where the flames raged.

  Ambulances were parked on the street, some tending to people, others driving away with the more serious injuries.

  “How’s June?” he asked when O’Neil walked up to him.

  “She’s going to be okay. The EMTs got her on oxygen and took her over to County Health along with a few others.”

  He breathed out a sigh of relief, the tension in his body draining. Losing a person on a call was an inevitability in his line of work, but that didn’t mean it didn’t gut him. Haunt him in the dark of the night with what ifs.

  Ladder 41 had the fire under control now; it would only take a few more minutes to have it out completely. Parker made his way among the people, offering what help he could, along with his crewmates. Once the scene had been cleared, they all piled back into the truck and headed back to the station.

  “Hey, thanks,” he muttered to Díaz and Ward once they were all on their way. “For, you know, not leaving me back there.”

  “Dude,” Ward scoffed. “Never leave crew behind. You know that.”

  He did, but in the heat of the moment—no pun intended—all he’d been able to think about was his friends’ safety. Not his own.

  “We’ve always got your back.” Díaz nodded. “You can trust us.”

  He could trust them, and he did. You had to trust your crew when you worked a job as dangerous as they did. Intellectually he knew that, while emotionally…yeah, he knew he still had to work on that area of his life. Trust hadn’t come easy to him since his dad left. But lately, lately he was discovering that he did trust some of the people in his life, in different ways. He trusted his crew to have his back, and the other night…

  The other night he trusted Tamsen with a part of himself he never thought he’d feel comfortable sharing. He wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but he knew it was significant.

  I should probably call off the damn investigation.

  He started at the thought, mulling it over in his mind as they navigated the streets of Denver back to the station. He’d hired his PI because he wanted to protect his mother, because he didn’t trust her new fiancé. But now…after getting to know Thomas a little and getting to know Tamsen a lot, he was starting to wonder if he could let his guard down. Start trying to believe the best in people.

  And if he did that, what would it mean for him and Tamsen? What if he truly opened himself up to her? Could they make a real go of this thing between them? Did he even want to?

  He sucked in a sharp breath, shocked to his core when he looked deep inside and realized that, yeah, he kind of did. But the real question was—did she?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Do we have any more cookies?” Cora asked from the kitchen. “I could have sworn we had half a sleeve in here last week.”

  Tamsen winced. “Yeah, um, I kind of got into the groove last night and forgot to eat dinner then ended up scarfing the entire package. I’m sorry.”

  It happened a lot when she was working on a project. She’d get so immersed in her work she’d forget to eat for hours. Then she’d be famished and devour everything in sight.
Made for great art but terrible heartburn.

  Cora sighed, grabbing the box of graham crackers. “A poor substitute, but at least they’re sweet.”

  Her roommate came to join her on the couch where they were bingeing the last season of their favorite comedy show. They each had such hectic work schedules, it was hard to consistently watch anything together. So they picked out favorites to binge when they had spare moments and swore not to watch any episodes without the other under penalty of full rent payment.

  “I’m so sad this is the last season,” Cora said as she passed over a graham cracker square.

  Tamsen accepted the sweet cracker, breaking it in half and bringing a piece to her lips. “Me too, but everything ends eventually.”

  True in entertainment and life. Endings were just beginnings anyway. Like her dad selling the house. The era of him living in her childhood home was over, but he would be starting a new adventure in a new home with his new wife. And one day, hopefully, she’d be able to leave the restaurant to be an artist full time. It would be sad to end that time with all the friends she’d made at work, but she’d be starting a new journey with her artwork. And with Parker…

  Actually, she didn’t want that to end.

  The thought struck her like a whack to the head. She didn’t want things with Parker to end. They’d agreed it was just temporary. No promises, no problems. But Tamsen was discovering she wanted promises. She wanted…more with Parker. The sex was phenomenal, but she also liked talking with him, being with him. He was funny and sweet, and he never made her feel awkward or weird.

  She could be herself around him and she liked that.

  It was a terrifying thought for a woman who lived her entire life determined not to fall as hard as her father had. She didn’t want to care about someone so much that losing them would hollow her out. She made sure all her relationships were light and fun. No deep feelings, no deep hurt. It was how she operated. The protection she needed. She poured all her heavy emotions into her art, because art couldn’t die and leave you with an empty hole inside you that never healed.