Fire and Romance

by Melanie Shawn

  What did he have to lose? They hadn’t spoken to one another in a decade. It’s not as if their friendship was on the line. This was his chance.

  She was here. She was single. She was breathtaking.

  Despite the consensus of their classmates, she didn’t look different at all. Her cheekbones and jawline were slightly more defined. She was wearing makeup, which she didn’t do in high school, so her eyes and lips were highlighted, but there was no drastic difference.

  It was starting to piss him off that people kept making such a big deal over how much she’d changed.

  She hadn’t changed.

  And he was realizing that neither had his feelings for her. All of the things that he’d told himself over their years apart were lies. He knew that now.

  On lonely nights sometimes he’d closed his eyes and her hypnotic smile would appear. He’d hear the sound of her laughter, one of his favorite things about her. When Sydney laughed, really laughed, she snorted, and he’d feel a warmth in his chest at the vision and be transported back to high school with her.

  Tonight he was looking at the real her. She wasn’t a vision. As he got closer, he noticed she was looking down at her phone and her finger was gliding across the screen.

  “Are you swiping right or left?” He set the drinks down and slid into the chair beside her.

  It was ridiculous, he knew, but the thought that she was on a dating site caused an uneasy feeling to settle low in his stomach. It was the same feeling he’d gotten when they’d seen Caleb.

  Her wide eyes lifted as a wrinkle appeared between her brows. “What?”

  “Tinder.” He motioned down to where her finger still hovered over her device. “Are you swiping left or right?”

  “Oh, no it’s not…I’m scrolling… This is Instagram.” She turned the phone around, and he saw pictures of two little kids covered in white powder. “My niece and nephew decided to bake a cake. By themselves. While my sister was in the bathroom. And this is what she came out to find.”

  “They’re adorable.” He’d made the same claim several times tonight, but this time he meant it. Unlike the pictures of the other kids he’d been forced to look at, these two were exceptionally cute.

  Sydney scrolled to another picture. The little boy was putting the strainer on his sister’s head. The final photo showed what appeared to be the little boy pouring a bag of flour over her.

  “They’re a handful, but I love ’em to death.” She swiped one more time and Devon appeared. She was between the kids who each had a hand on her cheeks, then the next showed the flour handprints and the kids giggling.

  “It’s so weird to think of Devon as a mom,” Marco observed. She’d never struck Marco as particularly maternal.

  A soft chuckle filled the air, and he waited for her signature snort, but it never came. “Neither did she, but she’s an amazing mom.” The pride that she felt for her big sister was evident. “From the moment Paulo Jr. was born her entire world became about him. And then she had Isabella and…they’re her life.”

  “That’s great.”

  Sydney set her phone down and her chest rose as she took in a deep breath. It took every ounce of Marco’s self-control not to let his eyes travel south to her generous cleavage. Neon arrows were practically pointing to it, but he managed to resist the temptation.

  “What about you?” she asked.

  The sound of her voice drifted into his consciousness, but his brain was still busy fighting his animal instinct to drop his gaze. He was seconds away from going full cartoon wolf awooga. He was still trying to switch gears and puzzle out what she was asking him when she clarified it.

  “Did you change your mind about wanting kids?”

  Oh, that.

  He opened his mouth to answer no, he hadn’t, but hesitated. Images filled his mind once again, though these were G-rated. He saw Sydney looking down at her pregnant belly. Sydney lying in a hospital bed holding a newborn. Sydney sitting in a chair rocking a baby.

  He blinked then kept his lids shut as he tried to clear the images from his consciousness. It didn’t work.

  “Marco?” Sydney’s voice was quiet.

  Opening his eyes, he saw lines of concern on her forehead.

  “No. No kids for me.” Those visions had him feeling a lot less certain about his answer than usual. “What about you? I do remember kids being in your five by thirty plan?”

  Her face relaxed as her eyes widened. “You remember my plan?”

  Lifting his hand, he counted off her milestones on his fingers. “Peace Corps. Nursing degree. Stable job. Marriage. Kids.”

  “Wow, I’m impressed.” Her eyes lit up, but immediately her enthusiasm diminished a few degrees. “I think I might have to revise the plan to three by thirty. I’m not a psychic, but I don’t see the last two in my future.”

  “You don’t want to get married? Have kids?” He felt himself holding his breath as he waited for her answer.

  “No…I mean yes, I still want to have kids. And get married.”

  He exhaled and realized he was relieved. He was relieved that she wanted to get married and have kids. Which was strange since he didn’t want either of those things.

  “It’s just not going to happen before I’m thirty. I thought it was, but you know…life.” She took a long gulp of her wine.

  It was clear she thought she was going to have it all with that doctor. That thought set like a slab of cement on his chest.

  When she set her wine glass down, something caught her eye and she cut her gaze to the left. “I think you have a fan.”

  Marco followed her stare to the blonde bartender that he’d met earlier in the evening. “Who? Misty?”

  She was across the room but looking in their direction. When he made eye contact with her, she smiled broadly before turning back to the bar.

  “Misty?” Sydney lifted her glass again as she shook her head. “Why does it not surprise me that you are on a first name basis with the hot bartender?”

  Reclining back in his chair, he asked, “I don’t know, why does it not surprise you?”

  “Well, let’s see. She’s blonde. Petite. Gorgeous. And obviously interested in you. And you’ve been here what, all of thirty minutes? I bet you had her name within five.” She made sure to emphasize the “five” with her right hand.

  He might be wrong, but he thought he detected a hint of jealousy in her tone. He liked it. She’d always given him a hard time about the girls he used to date (particularly Avery), but she’d never sounded jealous before.

  Tonight was different. Tonight there was a certain green-eyed-monster edge to her tone.

  Marco leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Well, Sherlock. I hate to tell you this, but your deductive skills are slipping.”

  “Okay, fine.” Her shoulders squared in a challenge. “Ten minutes.”

  “Wrong again.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Fifteen?”

  “Now you’re just guessing.” She was right, but he didn’t want to admit that.

  A slow, satisfied smile spread wide across her face and his entire body hummed with pleasure at the sight. He didn’t even care that she knew she’d got the timeline right. His body tensed at the thought of what else could inspire her to have that same satiated countenance. What things he could do to her body that would spark that reaction.

  With a smug air, she lifted her glass to her mouth and took a sip. As she set it down, she licked a drop of wine off of her lower lip. Mentally he saw the action for what it was, a completely innocent, involuntary movement. His hormones had other ideas and interpreted what he saw as a sensual, triple-X invitation.

  He grabbed his beer and took a swig to distract his mind from all of the images that populated it. Including one of her mouth on him and her licking wine off of his—

  “So, fifteen minutes, huh?” Her voice snapped him out of his fantasy. “Is your game getting weak in your old age?”

  His lips curved as he lowered
the bottle. “Yep.”

  “Ha,” she let out a huff of breath. “It’s probably stronger than ever.”

  “You think?” Marco couldn’t help the smile that was plastered on his face. He was having so much fun. More fun than he could remember having in a long time.

  She stared at him for a moment before her eyes drifted over his chest and down his arms. Her cheeks flushed when she got to the tattoo that ran up from his mid-forearm.

  “Yeah,” she took in a shaky breath. “I’m sure you’re doing just fine.”

  It surprised him that she’d had that reaction. Some women found tattoos sexy because they had a bad boy fantasy. Others found the artwork itself attractive. If he had to put money down, he would bet the farm that she was the first.

  As much as he knew about Sydney, he had no idea that she had a thing for tattoos. Luckily for him, he had several.

  He leaned forward with the intention of asking her if she’d like to see them when his phone buzzed. There wasn’t a lot that he’d let interrupt this moment, but Pops was in the hospital. He pulled it out and saw that it was Lady.

  “That’s probably one of your many admirers now.”

  Oh, yeah. That was undoubtedly jealousy.

  Figuring he’d milk it for all it was worth, he said, “She does love me.”

  “Love, huh? So, it’s serious?” There was an uncertainty in her voice.

  “It’s pretty serious.” He knew that it was a dick move to do this, but he couldn’t help himself. “We’re living together.”

  Her face dropped, but just for a split-second before it was back to neutral. If he hadn’t been studying her reactions so carefully, he would have missed it.

  “It’s a video call,” he explained. “Do you want to meet her?”

  “Me? No that’s okay.”

  “Your loss.” He answered and the screen populated. “Hey, pretty girl. Do you miss me? Do you miss daddy?”

  “Daddy?” Sydney repeated, and he looked up to see the sheer look of horror on her face.

  He flipped the screen around and laughed when Sydney flinched before what she saw on the screen registered. The second it did, she melted.

  “Oh my gosh, it’s a dog.” She leaned over to look closer. “She might be the cutest thing on the planet.”

  No, she wasn’t. Lady was cute…but she didn’t hold a candle to the lady sitting across from him.

  *

  Reaching across the table, Sydney tilted his phone to eliminate the glare on the screen. The dog had longish brown fur. Her muzzle was white with brown freckles sprinkled over the top. She had floppy ears and huge brown eyes.

  “What’s her name?”

  “Lady.”

  “Aww.” Sydney’s heart fluttered as she clasped her hands to her chest at the thought that Marco’s dog was named after one of her favorite cartoons. “Like Lady and the Tramp?”

  “Yep.” Marco’s chest puffed out like a proud doggie papa. “I found her at a fire I was working in an abandoned warehouse. We were clearing the building, and she was huddled under a blanket. She was so tiny. So scared. I picked her up and she looked at me with those big brown eyes, and I was a goner. As soon as my shift was over, I took her straight to the vet. He told me that he thought she was a Cocker Spaniel/Lab mix and I knew her name had to be Lady.”

  “Is this a baby monitor?” Behind Lady, she could see a kitchen and table.

  “It’s a two-way video and audio connection. It is kind of like a baby monitor but it goes to my phone.”

  “And Lady can call you?” Not having a dog herself, she couldn’t definitively say that was a bad idea. But, she was a dog auntie. And if Woof-Woof (he was named by her nephew) could call Devon anytime he was alone, she was pretty sure the Bulldog would blow up her sister’s phone.

  “Only certain times,” Marco explained. “I program the times that the paw calls can come through.”

  “Paw calls?” That was a phrase she’d never thought she’d hear come out of Marco’s mouth.

  He nodded, completely unaware of how freaking endearing this conversation was. He was clueless about the effect that hearing a sexy, tattooed firefighter say the words “paw call” had on her.

  “I can give her treats, too.” He beamed as he pressed something on his phone. Sydney watched as Lady’s head lowered, and when she came back into the frame, she was chomping away at something. “I have a dog walker that comes in the morning, afternoon, and night to feed her, walk her, and play with her when I’m on the job. But this makes it easy for me to check on her from the firehouse.”

  Just when she thought that nothing she found sexy about Marco would surprise her he goes and has a video monitor that dispensed treats to his dog.

  So freaking hot.

  They both talked to Lady as she happily chomped away at her treat before telling her goodbye.

  Marco set the phone down and questions were swirling in Sydney’s mind like leaves in a dust devil. There was so much that she wanted to know about his life and the past ten years. Since she’d already asked in general, she figured that she needed to get more specific.

  “So, is that the only woman in your life?”

  He grinned, and that darn dimple made an appearance. It caused a small tremor low in her belly. “Yep. She’s the only Lady I share my bed with.”

  Oh lord. A vision of Marco in bed and shirtless, crystallized in her mind. His dark hair and olive skin in contrast to the white sheets. His broad, sculpted chest, naked for her viewing pleasure. His chiseled, muscular arms on full display. Her mouth watered and the small tremor she felt increased in magnitude to a massive quake, its fault line at her core.

  “So firehouse, huh?” She redirected her train of thought. “Do you like being a firefighter? Is it what you thought it would be?”

  Unlike Sydney, Marco hadn’t had a five-by-thirty plan. He’d had one goal in his adult life: to be a firefighter. He’d told her some of his best and earliest memories were visiting his dad at the fire station and that he’d always wanted to follow in his footsteps.

  “I love it. It’s better than what I thought it would be. There are so many aspects of the job that I never considered. We do so much work with the community. We visit the schools and retirement centers. We do fundraisers and outreach programs.” Marco spoke with sincerity, a rarity in conversations with him. He liked to joke around and make light of things, but she could see he took this seriously. “What about you? Was saving the world everything you thought it would be?”

  In seventh grade, they’d had to write an essay on what they wanted to do when they grew up. She’d said she wanted to join the Peace Corps. For some reason that caused the class to laugh. She still wasn’t sure why it had been so funny to them. Maybe because most of them were privileged, spoiled brats. But for whatever reason, they thought it was hilarious.

  She did remember Richie Leon yelling out, “You think you’re going to save the world or something?”

  She’d never forget the intimidating look on Marco’s face right before he turned around to face his friend. He didn’t say a word, but Ritchie shut up and so did the rest of the class. That was Marco. He could get his point across without uttering a single syllable. He didn’t get upset often, but when he did, everyone took him seriously.

  After class that day, he’d caught up with her on the way to lunch and said, “If anyone can save the world, it’s you.”

  It was silly, looking back now, but that one sentence had filled her with so much faith in herself and the future. To this day, whenever she was uncertain or nervous about something, she’d close her eyes and remember that feeling.

  She took a deep breath and pushed down the emotions that floated to the surface forcing herself to be in the moment as she answered Marco’s question as honestly as she could. “It was good. Different than I thought it would be, but good.”

  “And nursing? Is that everything you wanted and more?”

  “Some days are better than others.” Nursing wasn’t ju
st a physically taxing job; it was emotionally draining as well. Yes, there were days she would come home feeling fulfilled, ecstatic even, because she spent her days in service to others. But there were just as many, if not more, days where she’d come home, hide under her covers or cry or even eat an entire chocolate cake.

  “Do you and your ex work together?”

  “No,” Sydney felt herself internally recoil at the thought. “God, no. I work at a non-profit clinic. And then a couple of times a week I visit some local shelters to provide medical care.”

  “Wow,” he stared at her. “You really are saving the world.”

  Feeling uncomfortable with his earnest praise, she chuckled. “I’m not changing anything. At best, I put Band-Aids on situations that require open heart surgery. We have one of those cheesy plaques hanging in the clinic that says If You Only Help One Person Today, You’ve Done Your Job, and sometimes,” She let out a forced laugh, “I’m not even sure I’m meeting that standard.”

  “One person,” he gave her the side eye as he teased, “You’re not setting the bar very high.”

  “You know what I mean.” She swatted his arm playfully before asking another question that had been swirling in her head. “I never thought you’d end up in a small town, you said that was part of what you hated about Sunset Canyon. How did you end up in Hope Falls?”

  His grin tilted higher. “Someone’s been doing their research.”

  “To social media.” She lifted her wine glass in a toast. “Making it so much easier to stalk people.”

  After he took a sip, he set the bottle down, his eyes never leaving hers. “Is that what you did? Did you stalk me?”

  Yes.

  Instead of admitting that’s exactly what she’d done, she turned the tables faster than a bottle spinning on a floor surrounded by teenagers. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  “Go ahead.” His gaze grew a little more serious, and the shift in intensity sent a tingle all the way down to her toes. “Ask me.”