She laughed, but wouldn’t meet his eyes. “We could, but we both know why we can’t.”
He recognized that serious, all-business tone. “It’s not official fire-and-rescue policy that employees can’t date.”
“No, but it’s my policy.” Her eyes darkened. “And be real, Welton, you don’t want to date me.”
“Okay, I don’t,” he admitted. “I don’t want to date anybody right now, but I want to kiss you.”
“I appreciate your honesty. But I told you the only reason we kissed. Tradition is very important to the kids,” she explained. “The kiss was…nice. Let’s leave it as that.”
“The kiss was hot. And I don’t want to leave it.”
The song “All I Want for Christmas” played on the radio. Christian knew what he wanted.
Leanne turned to face him. “The truth is, Christian, even if you weren’t a firefighter, I wouldn’t kiss you again. You and I are very different.”
“I’m younger.”
“It’s more than an age thing. I haven’t dated in a while, but when I do I know exactly what I want.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Not a casual date or a fling. I want a real relationship. A serious one. Something that will last a very long time.”
“I appreciate your honesty.” That kind of relationship was the last thing he wanted. Still Christian couldn’t forget how her kisses made him feel, how much he enjoyed being with her and talking to her. He leaned toward Leanne. “We could always share a few kisses until you’re ready to find what you’re looking for.”
“That wouldn’t be a good idea.”
She backed away, but not before he glimpsed the longing in her dark chocolate eyes.
A-ha. “You want me to kiss you.”
Leanne stared at the Christmas tree. “Don’t complicate things, Welton.”
She hadn’t said no. That meant yes. A smug smile settled on his lips. “Kisses won’t complicate anything.”
“We don’t want the same things.”
“True, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun in the meantime.”
She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“I am going to kiss you again, Leanne Thomas,” he said. “Even if it means I have to buy all the mistletoe in Hood Hamlet to do it.”
“Please…”
“Kiss you,” he offered.
“Don’t do anything embarrassing.” Her gaze implored him. “I’d rather keep this between you and me.”
“And the kids?”
She ignored his quip. “You might not care about your reputation, but I care about mine.”
Her words felt like a slap to his face. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”
Doubt filled her eyes.
His insides twisted. He wanted her to believe him. “I wouldn’t.”
“Then stop talking about kissing me again, okay?”
“Okay.” The last thing he wanted to do was upset her. “I won’t bring it up again.”
And he wouldn’t.
But if she gave him any indication she wanted another kiss, he was going to be all over it. All over her.
CHAPTER NINE
SUNDAY morning, Leanne entered the station ready to work. She wanted something to do other than sit around her house thinking about kissing Christian. She’d been so preoccupied by him she hadn’t done more than string the lights on her Christmas tree.
Pathetic.
I am going to kiss you again, Leanne Thomas. Even if it means I have to buy all the mistletoe in Hood Hamlet to do it.
Romantic, no doubt. No wonder so many women wanted to date Welton. He said the words they wanted to hear. Not even she was as immune as she’d like to be. Her lips tingled with anticipation thinking about more kisses.
But all Christian wanted was kisses. Strike that. He probably wanted more, whatever he could get in the moment. But nothing…else.
No relationship. No commitment. No love. No thank you!
When she got involved again, Leanne knew what she wanted—everything he didn’t. She should be relieved.
Leanne walked into the garage. Besides, a relationship with someone at the station, someone who worked her same shift, wasn’t a smart idea. It wasn’t against the rules, but highly discouraged. Still, a part of her was disappointed she’d scared him off so easily by saying she wanted a serious relationship.
Her gaze landed on Christian. She pulled up short.
He leaned against the back wall of the station bays, looking gorgeous in his blue uniform and neatly-styled hair.
Her pulse rocketed.
Okay, she had a crush on him. On a younger man. Did that make her a cougar?
His intense blue eyes studied her. “Good morning, Thomas.”
Not Leanne. She reminded herself that was how she wanted it. “Welton.”
“How’s the toy drive looking?” he asked.
Yesterday, he’d sent a text message telling her not to come to the meeting. She could work on the toy drive while he handled the event planning. She’d appreciated that. Though she’d missed being a part of the get-together. All her friends were attending. Many of the town’s business owners.
Who was she kidding? She’d missed Christian. Stupid.
“The library barrel had a few toys,” she said. “Donations are still way down.”
“We’ll get plenty of toys at the dinner.”
“Hope so.” His confidence appealed to her. “The morning briefing…”
“We have a couple of minutes.” He straightened. “I have good news about the dinner.”
They wanted to attract sponsors to offset some of the expenses. “Did someone buy a table?”
“Better than that.” He grinned. “My grandfather called. Welton Winery is going to underwrite the entire dinner and silent auction. My family is going to attend, too.”
Her mouth gaped. “That means…”
“No expenses,” Christian finished for her. “Whatever money we raise goes directly to OMSAR.”
This was exactly what the unit needed to pay for new equipment and training, except…
His brows furrowed. “I thought you’d be happy.”
“I am, but I don’t want you to be pressured into doing something you don’t want to do in order to help OMSAR. If there are strings attached to your grandfather’s offer…?”
Christian’s eyes softened. “No strings. I made sure. But I appreciate you…”
Something passed between them again. A look. A connection. Leanne held her breath.
“…asking,” he said finally.
“Thank-you.” Her voice sounded husky. “And your grandfather.”
“This is because of what you, the rescue team and all of OMSAR did for me and Owen. Thank yourselves.”
Excitement rocketed through her. This was going to make such a big difference for the unit. Part of her felt like twirling around. But one thought kept her from wanting to celebrate. “This is going to sound bad, probably really bad, but given how things are turning out, I’m kind of glad you and Owen needed to be rescued.”
Christian gave a laugh. “You know, Thomas, I feel the same way.”
At least she wasn’t the only one. Leanne motioned to the doorway. “Morning briefing.”
“Ladies, first.”
“One of the guys, remember?” she teased.
“Yeah, I remember.” Christian didn’t sound too happy about it, but he walked in front of her. “But you should remember there’s nothing wrong with being one of the girls.”
Leanne stood in the doorway a bit stunned. No one at the station had ever said that to her. No one at OMSAR, either.
This was a man’s world. She wanted—needed—to fit in. Didn’t Christian understand that?
Of course not. He was a guy.
Leanne entered the briefing room. Her gaze shot to Christian. He was a guy who would be kissing someone on New Year’s Eve. Alexa or Rachel or another woman. Maybe Leanne should be one of the girls and find a man to kiss, to
o. But the thought of kissing a guy who wasn’t Christian seemed annoyingly unappealing…unsatisfying. She plopped into the closest chair.
The lieutenant cleared his throat and ran through the briefing. Nothing too out of the ordinary, except more physical training. Leanne liked the new workout, but not everyone agreed.
“Before I forget,” the lieutenant added. “There’s a full moon tonight so you know what that means.”
“The crazies will be out,” Paulson said.
She forced herself not to look at Christian. “And anything can happen.”
At two o’clock in the morning, on fire attack, Christian headed toward the house fire with a hose line. He wore his full turnouts and a SCBA—Self-Contained Breathing Apparatus. The smoke wasn’t dark or breathing around the doors and windows. No sign of a possible backdraft situation.
He entered through the front door and remembered something from fire academy.
Right wall in. Left wall out.
Dark. He couldn’t see a thing. No dim orange glow.
He listened. That was when he heard it. The familiar crackling of fire and burning.
Paulson, Baer, a longtime volunteer firefighter, and Keller followed Christian.
Smoke billowed, filling the doorway out of the living room. He couldn’t see out of his mask very well.
As Christian moved to the doorway, the noise and heat increased. Orange. He opened the hose nozzle.
Flames licked the ceiling. With Keller behind him, Christian aimed the hose to douse them and other hot spots. They needed to get to the stairs.
One adult and child were outside being treated for smoke inhalation by Thomas and O’Ryan. Another adult and child were unaccounted for. Still in the house. Somewhere.
Paulson carried an ax. He’d searched the downstairs with Baer. “They have to be upstairs.”
They attacked the fire on the way up. The higher they went, the thicker the smoke. Visibility decreased more.
Christian aimed the nozzle at the flames, but the fire didn’t want to die.
“Help!” Coughs followed the cry.
Water from the hose cleared the path toward the sound.
“We’ve lost the garage,” a voice said over the radio. “Find them and get out.”
A door was ajar. No flames. No heat. But smoke filled the room.
Christian readied the hose. Paulson opened the door. The four of them entered.
In the darkness, figures lay on the floor. A man. A child. Gasping for breath, coughing, alive.
Paulson scooped up a little girl wearing a pink nightgown.
She struggled against him with frightened eyes. “Kitty.”
Baer helped the man.
He coughed. “Can’t find Tinkerbell. Kitten. In here somewhere.”
“Do you have everyone?” the lieutenant asked.
“Yes,” Keller replied.
Not everybody. Christian thought about the little girl’s kitten.
“We’re starting to lose the house. Evacuate the structure.”
As Christian stepped out of the bedroom, he remembered the fear in the little girl’s eyes and voice. This family was going to lose everything right before Christmas. He didn’t want them to lose the kitten, too.
“Welton,” Keller called.
“Take the hose,” Christian said. “I’ll be right behind you.”
A firefighter never went into a fire or stayed in alone. But orders and regulations wouldn’t mean anything to that family, especially the little girl. All Christian needed was sixty more seconds to find the cat.
Animals got scared and usually hid in situations like this. The room wasn’t that big. He checked under the bed, behind the dresser and in the closet.
The smoke thickened. The heat intensified.
Thirty more seconds. He pushed aside a toy box. The kitten wasn’t underneath.
“Welton.”
He ignored the call over the radio. Fifteen seconds.
Leanne’s smiling face appeared front and center in his mind. But she was outside. Safe. Christian didn’t need to worry about her. He had to find the little girl’s kitten. Tinkerbell.
“Get out, Welton,” the lieutenant ordered. “Now.”
A two-story dollhouse sat a few inches away from the wall. He pulled it out. Inside one of the rooms lay a small, gray kitten. Unconscious.
Damn.
Flames covered the doorway and spread to the ceiling. He slipped the kitten into his pocket.
“Welton.” The lieutenant did not sound happy. “Retreat. That’s an order.”
“Got the cat,” Christian replied. “Unconscious.”
Heat surrounded him. Flames, too. Noise roared.
Something in the hallway collapsed. They weren’t losing the house. They’d lost it. The structure was failing. And he was trapped.
He thought about Leanne, about wanting to hold her one more time, gaze into her brown eyes and kiss her. Time to get the hell out of here so he could do that.
Christian opened the window and pushed out the screen. Lights from the engine flashed. Firefighters aimed hoses and sprayed water. Not for the house, the structure was a lost cause, but for him.
“Bailing out the window,” he said into the radio.
He grabbed his escape kit, one of the newer pieces of gear they’d started carrying for self-rescue, and anchored the rope to the window frame. As the flames danced toward him, he climbed out and rappelled down the rope. He ran from the burning house.
Leanne met him halfway across the yard. Worry filled her pretty brown eyes. “Christian…”
He pulled the kitten out of his pocket and placed the limp animal onto her hands.
She checked the cat. “It’s not breathing.”
He hadn’t been able to tell with his mask and all the smoke. As she began mouth-to-mouth, he ripped off his mask.
Leanne hurried to the medical gear. Christian followed.
“Tinkerbell,” the little girl cried. Thankfully the mother held her back.
“Come on, Tinkerbell,” he said. “Breathe, kitty.”
Leanne kept working on the kitten. Finally she looked at him. “Tinkerbell’s breathing.”
Relief washed over him.
Leanne placed an oxygen mask near the kitten’s face. “You could have been killed.”
She sounded tense, scared. “I knew I could find the cat.”
She continued giving the kitten some blow by oxygen. “You were ordered to retreat.”
“I’m sure I’ll be reprimanded.”
“And rightly so. That was an incredibly reckless thing to do.” The kitten perked up. “An incredibly brave thing, too.”
He smiled at her compliment. “For the record, I wasn’t trying to impress you this time.”
Leanne’s gaze met his. She looked at him the way he’d pictured her when he was inside the burning house. Smiling. Beautiful. His. “Well, you did.”
Christian’s heart thudded. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her right now.
The kitten squirmed. “Mew.”
She placed the cat in Christian’s gloved hands. “Take Tinkerbell over to the little girl.”
“Me?”
“You found the cat. That makes you the hero.”
“I’m not—”
“Go.” Pride filled Leanne’s eyes. “You earned this.”
Christian handed the wiggly kitten to the little girl now wrapped in a blanket. Someone snapped a picture.
She hugged him. “Thank you, Mr. Fireman.”
Another flash lit up the night sky.
Neighbors surrounded the family. Someone clapped. Others cheered. Everyone joined in.
He nodded his appreciation then made his way back to the engine.
A muscle throbbed on the lieutenant’s jaw. “We’ll talk about this at the station.”
“Yes, sir.”
With that the lieutenant walked away.
Paulson slapped Christian on the back. “Well done, Welton.”
�
�Thomas got the cat breathing.”
“She couldn’t have done that if you hadn’t found Tinkerbell,” Paulson said. “Don’t mind the lieutenant. It’s his job to make sure we all make it out safely. I’m sure you gave him a few gray hairs tonight.”
“Not the intention.”
“He knows that, rookie. Even if he won’t admit it.”
Christian glanced over at Leanne. He’d never seen that kind of worry in her eyes. Had it been for him?
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips thinking it might have been. Maybe he would get more kisses, after all.
“She’s upset, too,” Paulson said. “You know Thomas. Always a stickler for rules.”
Christian’s gaze remained on her as she packed up her equipment. “Yeah, but that’s what makes her who she is.”
“You’re right about that.” Paulson stared at Leanne, too. “She’s tough and strong and totally self-reliant. I pity the fool who falls in love with her.”
Christian nodded, but had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Me, too.”
Later that afternoon, Leanne glanced at the clock on her microwave. Christian was supposed to stop by to help her with the dinner program and auction catalogs. They hadn’t set a firm time. She wished they had.
Ever since the house fire, she’d been on edge. She’d always been able to detach from what was going on with her coworkers on a call. Not this morning. Fear had gripped her heart when Christian hadn’t exited the house with the others. She’d thought he was lost until he rappelled from the second story window like a superhero. Her relief had been palpable. And that’s when she knew…
She cared about him.
Not like Paulson or Hughes or Porter or Moreno. Not like any of her fellow firefighters or OMSAR team.
Leanne had feelings, deep feelings, for Christian. Ones that couldn’t go anywhere. Ones she would have to ignore. For the sake of the fire station. For the safety of her heart.
Once the Christmas celebration was over, it would be easier. Until then, she would…survive.
The doorbell rang.
She ran down the staircase and opened the door.
Christian stood on her porch. He held a red poinsettia plant. Behind him snow fell from the sky. “This is for you. I know all our work on the event has kept you from decorating.”
Firefighter Under the Mistletoe Page 12