Fire and Romance

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Fire and Romance Page 11

by Melanie Shawn


  It was true that she’d only had three real relationships, but that didn’t mean that she’d only been with three people. Sydney had had what Devon called her “Samantha Year” during her second year in the Peace Corps. She’d traveled through Europe, on long weekends and holidays and sampled the culture. At least half of the stamps on her passport had a corresponding hookup.

  She’d been around the world, in the very literal sense, and never met a man that was even in the ballpark of Marco’s prowess.

  Sydney watched as the water swirled around the drain and the soapy bubbles from her shampoo disappeared beneath the metal grate. The same sentence kept repeating in her head.

  I had one, perfect night with him.

  That statement could either be interpreted as this being the best night of her life or the worst.

  The practical side of her was looking at tonight from the glass-half-full perspective.

  I had one, perfect night with him. There were people that went their entire lives and never experienced what she just had. Not only was her ultimate fantasy realized, it was exceeded.

  The emotional side of herself was looking at tonight from the glass-half-empty perspective.

  I had one, perfect night with him. It wasn’t enough. She wanted more nights like this. She wanted every night to be like this one.

  She grabbed the loofah that she’d packed and worked the body wash into it until it was nice and sudsy, and then ran it along her skin. She immediately noticed that there were several discolorations on her breast. She counted three love bites on her right side and two on her left. Having fair skin meant that she bruised easily, but this was her first hickey and she thought there was something poetic about getting them from the first boy she’d ever loved.

  Dirty thoughts played in her mind and she wondered what it would be like to take a shower with Marco. What it would feel like to feel his wet skin against hers. What it would be like to soap him up and him do the same to her. What it would be like to have water pounding down on them as he pounded into her.

  Then her mind wondered to not-so-dirty thoughts. What it would be like to go to bed next to him and to have his face be the first thing she saw in the morning. She wondered what it would be like to go grocery shopping with him, to go to the bank, out to dinner. She wondered what it would be like to do all the mundane things that people did in relationships with him.

  It was odd because she had some idea since they’d been so close, but that was when they were kids. She still felt like she knew him, but did she?

  Was he still a morning person?

  Did he still put ketchup on his eggs?

  When he sang karaoke was “Poison” by Bell Biv DeVoe still his go-to song?

  These were all questions that she doubted she’d ever get answers to. In the time they’d spent together tonight, they hadn’t said anything about keeping in touch. They hadn’t even exchanged phone numbers.

  He’d told her that he’d been attracted to her in high school, and it was clear that he still was, but was there more than that?

  Probably not, the small voice in her head piped up.

  As tempting as it was to convert to the dark side and romanticize the confessions he’d made and the time they’d shared, she was too much of a realist for that. They’d hooked up at their high school reunion. That was it. They both had lives and careers and hadn’t seen one another for a decade. To make more out of tonight would be naïve.

  She turned the water off and grabbed a white, fluffy towel off the rack. After drying herself off, she bent over and wrapped her hair in it before slipping into the hotel-provided plush robe. The soft fabric rubbed against her ultra-sensitized skin and she snuggled into it.

  If she couldn’t be wrapped up in Marco’s arms, this was the next best thing. She smiled to herself as she opened the bathroom door. Before it swung wide enough for the entire room to be revealed, she realized that there were candles lit and soft music playing.

  Marco.

  Her heart skipped at the thought that he’d come back. He’d come back to her.

  “How did you get in—” She fell mute when she saw who was in her room.

  Simon stood before her.

  Not Marco.

  Simon.

  “I gave the front desk my name,” he answered her unfinished question.

  Right. She’d added him as a guest when she’d checked in.

  “What are you doing here?” she managed to ask.

  “I know that I messed up.” He took a step forward, and she took a step back. At her retreat, he stopped and lifted his hands. “But it wasn’t what you think. I was scared.”

  Her arms wrapped around her waist, even though the oversized robe was covering everything, she felt exposed. She’d been with Simon for six years, but he felt like a stranger to her. Maybe it was because of his infidelity, or maybe it was because of sleeping with Marco, she wasn’t sure.

  “You need to leave.”

  His face dropped, and he started toward the door behind her. But he stopped in front of her. “It didn’t mean anything. She doesn’t mean anything. I just got scared.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a solitaire diamond ring. “Because of this.”

  “What’s that?” she heard herself ask as she stared at what was clearly an engagement ring.

  “I bought this for you about six months ago. I’ve known I wanted to marry you for a while, but once I had the ring, it became real and I just…I started feeling suffocated. I knew you were the only woman I was ever going to be with for the rest of my life and I…I panicked. I’m so sorry.” He got on one knee. “I want to marry you. I love you. Sydney Please, please, don’t throw away everything we have,” he pleaded.

  She stared down at him, and the only thought that she had was that she must be living a Twilight Zone version of her life. She could even hear the theme music playing in her head.

  “You need to leave, Simon. Now,” she said firmly as she opened the hotel room door.

  The entire night had been an emotional roller coaster, and she was ready to get off.

  Chapter 11

  ‡

  TWO YEARS LATER (Present Day)

  Hope Falls, CA

  Marco tapped his heel on the cement floor as he waited in the fire chief’s office. After the shift-change meeting, he was almost out the door when Jake caught up to him and told him he needed to speak with him. So here he was.

  When he’d started here as a probie, his boots would’ve been tapping on the floor for an entirely different reason—he would’ve been shaking in them. At that time, if the chief had placed a hand on his shoulder and said he needed to talk to him, Marco would’ve been terrified sitting in this chair. He would’ve been running everything that had happened during his shift over and over in his head, sure that he must’ve screwed something up. But with eight years on the job under his belt, he wasn’t nervous at all.

  He assumed that he was sitting there because the chief needed something from him. If he were a betting man, he’d say that it had to do with the vacation he had planned. After he walked out of the station today, he was off for three weeks, and nothing Jake needed would change that. Even though he always tried to be a team player, taking this vacation was non-negotiable.

  Pops was going to be staying with him, and his grandpa’s condition had progressed to the point where he needed to be monitored and have in-home care. It had taken Marco almost a year to finally convince his mom to go on the European honeymoon that had been his gift to her after she eloped with the man that she’d reconnected with at her high school reunion.

  High school reunion.

  Things had definitely worked out better for his mom than they had for him. Marco did his best not to think about his own reunion, but it always had a way of creeping back into his consciousness. It was painful and aggravating, like a hemorrhoid that kept hanging on. He’d think he was cured and then, out of the blue, he’d be hit with a memory of the way Sydney’s body had felt beneath him. Or
the soft whisper of her yes, when he’d asked if he could touch her. Or the faint taste of wine on her soft, supple lips.

  It was funny and ironic that the night he’d spent hours, days, weeks, even months of his life fantasizing about had finally happened, and now all he wanted to do was forget it. He wanted to erase it from the deep recesses of his mind. Because every time he was reminded of how amazing that night had been, he would then come face to face with the harsh reality that it would never happen again.

  Maybe one day he’d be able to look back on the stolen night they’d shared together without wanting to punch something or puke, but so far, that hadn’t been the case. And he wasn’t holding his breath.

  He’d tried to move on. The first year he’d continued to torture himself by checking in on her on Facebook. But he had to quit cold turkey when she was tagged in a photo Simon Corbett posted of her hand wearing a diamond ring with the caption, She said yes! He was able to quickly deduce from the picture that Simon was the man he met in her hotel room that night. Marco removed her Facebook page off of his bookmarks and hadn’t even been on the site since. He didn’t want to inadvertently see any posts about her wedding.

  Letting his head fall forward, he rubbed the back of his neck. Today, he was definitely feeling older than his thirty years.

  It wasn’t that he’d let himself go, at least not to the naked eye. He still appeared to be in top physical condition. But appearances could be deceiving. Since the reunion he’d gone a little overboard with his partying ways.

  Every night that he wasn’t on the job, he was at JT’s Roadhouse. He’d drink. He’d hook up. He’d drink some more. He’d hook up some more. And the toll it was taking on him could no longer be ignored.

  Emotionally, he was numb, but not in a good way. He didn’t care about anything anymore. He wasn’t passionate about anything anymore.

  Physically, he was tired. He was rundown. His muscles weren’t recovering the way they used to.

  These next few weeks, hanging out with Pops was exactly what he needed to reboot his life and get some perspective. He needed to get back to what was really important in life, and if there was anyone who would have no problem calling him on his shit, it was Pops.

  The door opened behind him and he sat up straighter in the chair.

  “Hey, man. Thanks for waiting.” Jake walked into the room and took a seat behind his desk.

  “No problem,” Marco assured him.

  It was still a little strange to see his friend sitting behind that desk. He and Jake Maguire had formed a close bond during their six years of being on blue shift together before he’d been promoted. As odd as it was, he had to admit his friend was kicking some serious ass in the role. Marco was feeling a little stagnant in his own career. The one promotion that had come up in the past year had gone to Eli Bishop, which was a fine choice, but it could’ve also easily gone to Marco or any one of several other firefighters.

  That was the problem when you worked with the best of the best. There was no clear path to getting ahead. He was feeling stuck. Stuck personally. Stuck professionally. Stuck in life.

  “So, I know you have some time scheduled off. But I need to talk to you about something.”

  Here we go. It was what Marco had expected. They wanted him to pick up some shifts. In the past three years, several stations in the county had had to shut down due to budget cuts. Because of its central location, Hope Falls had taken the brunt of the impact. In the past twelve months alone the call volumes they handled had more than tripled.

  He scooted up in his chair, ready to tell Jake that as much as he’d love to help them out, he couldn’t. But before he got the chance, there was a knock on the door.

  “Come on in, Bishop.” Jake waved his hand.

  Marco turned, expecting to see Eli Bishop, who’d just been promoted to second in command, but instead saw that Eli’s brother Evan had walked in.

  Eli and Marco had started as probies together, and over the years he’d gotten to know the Bishop family pretty well. Evan was a former pro-ball player turned Captain. His hotshot crew was stationed down in Southern California and he’d recently been honored with the Medal of Valor for his bravery when fighting the Basin Hills fire that claimed fifteen lives.

  From what Marco had heard his injuries had been severe, but other than a slight limp you’d never be able to tell. He looked as imposing as ever. As capable as ever. As commanding as ever.

  The man was a beast.

  “Oh good.” Jake rose from behind the desk and rounded it to shake Evan’s hand. “Just in time. I’m glad you made it.”

  “Hey, man.” Marco stood and shook Evan’s hand. “How you doing?”

  “I’m good.” Evan, who was a man of few words, nodded.

  “Let’s head into the training room,” Jake instructed.

  As they made their way out of the small office, Marco’s curiosity was officially piqued. He hadn’t heard anything about Evan coming to Hope Falls.

  Was he going to be joining the crew here?

  In what position? He was overqualified for any positions HFFD had open.

  But even if he was, why would that have anything to do with Marco’s vacation time?

  Marco’s hamster mind was still running on the What If Wheel when Jake closed the training room door and Evan and Marco grabbed a seat at the rectangular table.

  “I don’t know if you’ve heard,” the chief began before he even sat down. “But the state has been issued a grant designated for an additional hotshot crew and Hope Falls has been chosen to be the base camp because of its location and resources.”

  “I heard something about that, but didn’t know if or when it was going to happen.”

  “It’s happening. Funding has just been approved for a twenty-person crew.” Jake motioned to Evan. “We reached out to Evan months ago when the grant looked like it was going to come through for next fire season, but it’s happening sooner than we thought. He agreed to come on and head the crew as Superintendent. That was before his injuries, though. He’s only been cleared for modified duty. And we need to be up and running by the end of the month.”

  “This month?” Marco asked.

  It was the eighth. That meant they had three weeks. It could be done, but it would be tight. To thoroughly vet and train a crew they would have to put them through rigorous testing, including physical and psychological assessments.

  “Yes. This month,” the chief confirmed. “When the position of captain came up, you were the first man I thought of. I know that over the years you’ve shown an interest in hotshot crews. This new role wouldn’t affect your position here. You’d work with the crew May through October and then be back here November through April.”

  Both men sat across from him and stared at Marco as if he were supposed to say something. Being on a hotshot crew had always been his dream. The work was grueling, but for an adrenaline junkie, it didn’t get much better. Were they asking him to join? Asking him to come on as captain? Or asking him to throw his name in the hat?

  There was one way to find out. “So, are you asking if I want to apply?”

  “I need a captain, and I want it to be you,” Evan cut right to the chase. “If you want it, it’s yours. The position would start immediately. I want you in on the hiring, setting up base camp and also training. It will be long, demanding hours but nothing compared to what it will be once we’re up and running. During fire season you would be on call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. It’s even less of a nine to five than being on an engine. Wherever you’re needed, you go. You never know when you’ll be back. It can be hard on loved ones, on relationships.” Evan spoke with sadness and conviction.

  This was the first time that Marco had seen even the tiniest crack in the armor of invincibility that Evan wore. For a brief moment, Marco had peeked through a small window into his vulnerability.

  “It’s a three-year commitment,” the chief added. “I know it’s a lot to consider.”


  Shit.

  The position he was being offered was Marco’s professional wet dream, and it was being handed to him, gift wrapped with a big red bow. This was what he needed to get his mind right. To get his life back on track. To infuse passion into it once again.

  He knew that this opportunity would not present itself again. If he didn’t jump on this, the position would be filled. He could think of six guys that would jump at the chance to be number two on a hotshot crew, and that was just in this house alone.

  He also knew that there was no way that he was going to let his mom postpone her trip again. She’d always put everyone else’s needs before her own. She’d always wanted to go to Europe, and she was getting on that plane tomorrow.

  This decision was too big to make on the fly. He needed some time. Time to figure this out.

  “Do you need my answer immediately?”

  Evan’s jaw ticked. It was strange that a man that spoke such few could communicate so clearly without a sound. His irritation was palpable.

  In an effort to clarify his position and take the sting out of his hesitation, Marco explained, “It’s not that I need to consider whether or not I want to do this. I do. It’s just that I have a family commitment that I need to work out before I can give you my answer.”

  “You have until end of business today,” Evan conceded, but he didn’t look happy about it.

  “Thank you.” Marco stood and shook Evan’s hand. “I’ll have an answer for you by lunch.”

  Evan responded with a nearly undetectable nod of agreement. Again, Marco marveled at the man’s silent articulation skills. He could see now why he’d been such an effective leader. Hell, he’d follow this man into battle without asking any questions and Marco was used to being the alpha in the pack.

  As he walked out of the station, he pulled out his phone.

  After the third ring his mom picked up, and he made her promise him that she wouldn’t change her plans before he explained the opportunity that had come up.

 

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