by Vivi Holt
Making his way down the hall, he pushed open every door he found and searched each room, but there was no sign of the woman. Perhaps she’d been downstairs when the fire broke out. He reached the top of the staircase and peered down it, even as flames licked the banister and reached for the ceiling. The smoke was black, the heat was unbearable and he grunted behind his mask. There were two more rooms on the second story beyond the staircase that he hadn’t searched yet. With a deep breath, he crawled past the staircase.
The floor splintered beneath him and gave way. He jabbed at the wall with the halligan and leaped for the hallway behind him. His feet and legs fell into the hole, and he hung onto the floor boards with one hand, the halligan imbedded in the wall beside him as his feet swung back and forth. He heaved himself up onto the still-sturdy floorboards. When he turned to sit and catch his breath, he watched flames dancing where his legs had been moments earlier.
On his hands and knees, he scurried back down the hall as fast as he could, another crash and the crack of splintering wood behind him spurring him onward. He reached the window and backed out and down the ladder.
“We got all three!” cried Grant, rushing up behind him as he reached the ground.
“Three?” he huffed as he pulled the mask off and gasped for air.
“Yep. The other team found the mom – she was downstairs in the laundry room with the door closed. Apparently they made it just before the room went up.”
Tim nodded and squeezed his eyes shut as he leaned his hands on his knees. They’d done it. He glanced up at the building and saw the fire was almost extinguished, only one section in the center of the house still burning – likely where the staircase was, where he’d been standing when the floor gave way. The fire hadn’t traveled – the rest of the neighborhood was safe.
He wandered to the ladder truck, noting the last ambulance pulling away from the curb behind it, sirens blaring. When he sat on the curb, one of the other men handed him a bottle of water. He gulped half of it down, splashing the rest over his face and neck.
Grant sat beside him. “You did good work, Lieutenant.”
“You too, Grant. Do you think they’ll make it?”
Grant’s face was grim. “Hard to tell. The paramedics didn’t look hopeful, but the girl was conscious when I handed her over.”
“Good.”
Grant stood and walked away, handing out water to other crew members as they finished up. Tim stood and stretched the kinks from his back. It was time for him to round up the team and hand out orders for what to do next. Still, the fright of what might have been lingered in his mind. If he’d been one step farther from the staircase … he shook his head. No point thinking about it– every time he entered a burning building he knew it could be his last.
The satisfaction of knowing he’d done all he could to save the family inside the house was worth it to him. If only he could call Molly and tell her all about it. That’s what ate at him most – he’d never had anyone to confide in about what he endured or achieved on the job. Now all he wanted was for Molly to be that person, the one he shared everything with – the good, the bad, the big and small things of his life. But she didn’t want him, not like that, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Tim sighed and walked over to join the rest of his men.
Molly crossed her legs and lay back against the pillows in her hotel room. The sounds of the festival had died down – all she could hear was the hum of the air conditioner and the noise of the TV set in front of her. She flicked through the channels, but there was little on worth watching. She reached a news program and set down the remote – that was just what she needed, a good dose of local Greensboro news. She loved seeing things from a different perspective when she traveled.
“A fire in Fulton County today and a home destroyed …” began the news reader, her face grim. “But good news came when local firemen rescued all three family members who were inside the house at the time of the blaze. Officials say they were taken to Grady Memorial Hospital in serious condition. Sources at the hospital confirm they are being treated for smoke inhalation …”
Molly gasped as images of firefighters flashed across the screen. Tim! He ran across a road, a water bottle in one hand, a long metal tool in the other. He’d been there and in the thick of it from the look of him – his face was outlined in soot, his yellow fire suit was blackened and he looked exhausted. He sat on the curb and stared into the distance. Her heart ached to talk to him, to hold him.
The anchor continued. “Locals from the neighborhood praise the heroic efforts of the firefighters who they say braved a raging inferno, risking their own lives, to save the woman and her two children from the burning house.”
Molly stared at the ceiling, her heart pounding. What if something had happened to him? What if he hadn’t made it out? She’d never given much thought to how dangerous his work could be. He saved lives on a daily basis, risking his own neck to do it. She swallowed hard – he was a better man than she’d given him credit for. All this time, the only thing he’d done was try to make her happy and bring their families together – even when it cost him his own peace of mind.
She sighed and rolled onto her side, her mind whirling. She’d made the wrong choice again.
Tim sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air, sweat streamed down his face and soaking the sheets. Black and gray smoke swirled inside his mind, and he squeezed his eyes shut, then blinked them open again to dispel it.
After his breathing calmed, he padded to the kitchen, poured himself a glass of milk and sat at the kitchen table to drink it. He rubbed his eyes and stared at his phone, still sitting there from earlier. He’d forgotten to turn it off.
He swiped the screen and saw missed calls from Callum, Stuart and Dad. Nothing from Molly. His heart sank. It didn’t matter what he did or how he looked at it, he missed her. They’d spent so much time together over the past several weeks with their ridiculous fake relationship, he’d grown accustomed to having her around.
He sighed and took another swig of milk. She wouldn’t be back in Atlanta for another day and half, but he wanted to see her now. And he had the next forty-eight hours off from work. Maybe he should drive out to Greensboro to see her. Would she welcome him? He frowned – maybe, maybe not. But he knew he had to try. He’d never rest until he’d done everything he could to give them another chance.
The sun rose behind the house, sheathing the spiky treetops in golden light. Tim rinsed his glass and loaded it into the dishwasher with a new resolve. He knew now what he wanted and how he might go about getting it. He wanted Molly in his life. In fact, he couldn’t imagine a life without her – going back to the way things were before they met felt drab and grey. He wanted the color she brought to his days. And he was going to Greensboro to tell her that.
15
Tim killed the Hog’s engine, set the kickstand, pulled off his helmet and looked around. Greensboro was full to bursting with people – he’d only snagged a parking space so close to the festival because he was on a motorcycle and could fit the vehicle into a smaller space. He locked the helmet onto his bike, grabbed his overnight duffel from the saddlebags and slung it over his shoulder. He headed for the main street, easy to spot because of all the people spilling from the end of it and the tops of the white tents that signaled the presence of market stalls.
He still wasn’t sure how he’d find Molly. He knew he could always give her a call, but he hoped to surprise her. Since she was writing an article about the festival, it was likely he’d run into her there – somewhere. He strolled along the main drag, stopping now and then to examine the wares at various stalls. He saw funnel cakes, fried Mars Bars and fried pickles at one, handmade clothing at another, jewelry at still another. But no sign of Molly.
A family wandered by, the children holding cotton candy and balloons. The smallest child dragged her balloon behind her on the end of a stick, its rubber surface grating on the pavement and loose gravel. When it
popped, she burst into tears, Tim had to bite his lip to contain a wry smile – he’d seen that coming a mile off.
As he wound through the crowd, cheering further ahead caught his attention. When he reached the source of the noise, he found a large crowd gathered around a dunk tank. A large man in a white apron sat waiting to be dunked, the few strands of hair on his head swaying in the breeze.
Molly crossed her arms. The dunk tank was a new addition to the festival, and she grinned as she watched Chef Adams fall into the water with a gigantic splash. The crowd cheered and whistled in approval and he pushed free of the water, arms raised high in victory, setting them off even louder than before.
She laughed and raised her phone to take a photograph. It’d help with the article – the official photographer the Times sent to cover the story had only stayed in Greensboro for an afternoon. Probably one of their images would be printed alongside her story in the print edition, but she still liked to take photos when she could, to stir memories or better help her describe the atmosphere. And perhaps they’d let her use them for an online piece, if she was lucky.
A man hurried up the steps to the platform beside the dunk tank, a microphone in hand.
“Thank you, Chef Riley Adams – you’re a real sport. Let’s give him another round of applause, folks. And the next time you stop into the Harmony Inn, make sure you order their lunch special – chicken pot pie with sweet potato fries!” The crowd cheered again, this time with less fervor.
The announcer cleared his throat. “Ahem … so who’s next? Come on up, folks, and take a turn! We’re raising money for a great cause – the Greensboro YMCA!”
Molly spotted the mayor standing on the edge of the crowd. He wore khaki pants and a button-down shirt, so she hadn’t recognized him right away. He spied her at exactly the same moment, smiled warmly and began walking toward her. Her heart fell – surely he didn’t want to repeat the awkward evening they’d had?
“Hi, Molly.”
“Peter, it’s good to see you.”
He rested a hand on her arm. “Come on – as he said, it’s for a good cause.”
Her eyes widened. “What? You don’t mean …”
He cocked his head and his eyes twinkled. “Who better to dunk than our very favorite out-of-town journalist?”
People standing around them began to clap and cheer her on. Soon, the announcer got wind of it and turned to face them with an exaggerated grin. “Do we have another victim? Ladies and gentlemen, I do believe Molly Beluga from the Georgia Times is offering herself as our next dunkee!”
Molly’s mouth fell open as the crowd erupted into cheering and catcalls. She met the mayor’s gaze and her eyes narrowed – this was payback, she was sure of it. “Thanks so much, Peter.”
He mock-bowed. “You’re most welcome.”
“Just for that, you can hold my purse … and my watch … and these pumps. They’re leather.” Quickly she shed everything that might be ruined by the water, leaving her in her blouse, skirt and bare feet. She marched to the dunk tank and climbed the stairs, lifting her chin as she went. If she must go through with it, she’d do it with style. She waved to the crowd, eliciting another round of cheers.
With a grin, she climbed carefully onto the seat. Some of the others had tested the water’s temperature before they settled themselves, but she’d prefer to be ignorant until she landed in it. She crossed her arms and waited.
Within moments, there was a line of children and teenagers all waiting to take their turn at the target to send her into the water below. The first was a girl no more than six. She took the ball offered her, then smiled and waved to Molly, revealing a missing front tooth. “Hi, Miss Bewuga!” she called.
Molly laughed. “Hello. Are you ready to knock me into the water?”
The girl nodded.
“Okay, let’s see you do it.”
She threw the ball as best she could, but it fell short of the target. The crowd cheered anyway.
One by one the children took their turns, most missing by a mile. Finally a rotund teenage boy with spiky brown hair stepped up, grinned and aimed carefully. When he let it go, Molly knew it was over. Sure enough, he nailed the target and she fell into the water, the cold taking her breath away. When she emerged, she heard shouting, whistling and laughter all around. She waved again and stepped out of the tank shivering.
Now what? She searched the sea of faces for someone with a towel, then felt one being put around her shoulders from behind. She turned with a smile. “Thank you … oh!”
Tim smiled at her, letting his hands linger on the towel as he rubbed her back dry.
“What … what are you doing here?”
He chuckled. “I wanted to see you. And since you’ve been dodging me for weeks back home, I thought I’d come here.”
Her head spun. What was going on? She’d told him she was there, but hadn’t expected him to show up! Now how would she follow her plan to avoid him until the feelings between them faded? Here he was in tight jeans, biceps spilling from the sleeves of his green T-shirt, his impossibly cute smile only inches from her face. “Oh. Well, I’m very busy. So I’m sorry you came all this way to …”
Tim grabbed her arms, pushed her against the back of the dunk tank and kissed her, hard. Her arms went around his neck of their own accord, urging him closer. Their kiss grew more urgent as her feelings burst free of the dam she’d tried to put them behind. She knew nothing could be the same as it was – she couldn’t go back to being friends, or sometime acquaintances, the way she’d planned to do. And her heart rejoiced.
He grinned against her lips, leaning his forehead against hers and gazing into her eyes. “Are you still too busy to see me?”
She bit her lip and resisted the urge to kiss him all over his face as love swamped her and washed away all reason and logic. All the doubts she’d had, all the worries and anxieties over family, work and everything else, were gone. “Well … I am still busy,” she quipped with a grin.
“Then I’ll have to see what I can do about that.” His lips were on hers again, this time more gently, making her tremble from head to toe.
Afterward she leaned against him, his arms wrapped tightly around her. “Okay, I give in. I’m all yours.”
He chuckled. “Glad to hear it.”
“So what will you do with me? And my family – that’s still part of the bargain.”
He raised her chin with his finger until her eyes met his. “I guess I’ll just have to do the best I can.” He kissed her again, lightly on the lips, then the tip of her nose, then her forehead. “I missed you, but you wouldn’t see me. And I couldn’t live with that – I need you in my life.”
Her heart expanded with joy. “I didn’t think Tim Holden needed anyone or anything?”
He tipped his head to one side. “Really? I guess you’ve still got a lot to learn about me. But I’ve got to be honest about something. When we first agreed to our … arrangement …”
She nodded, encouraging him on.
“… I had a bet with Callum.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“He bet me I couldn’t stay in a relationship with a woman for more than a month. We put five hundred dollars on it and I saw you as my chance to win. Now to be frank, I also liked you, so I thought it would be an easy five hundred. Boy, was I wrong about that.” He chuckled. “Then I got to know you and developed feelings for you – real feelings. The bet might have been the reason this whole thing started, but it’s over now. I’m here because I want you – forever.”
She sighed and snuggled into his chest, even as the crowd behind them erupted into cheers at another splash in the dunk tank. “I always wondered what made you think a fake engagement was a good idea. Now it all makes sense.”
“You’re not mad?”
She laughed. “No, I’m not mad.”
“I know we were fake-married, and before that we were fake-engaged, but I was wondering if you’d consider dating me. Fo
r real this time.”
Her heart leapt. “Yes, I’ll date you.” She reached up to pull him into another kiss. His lips began to feel familiar in a warm, delicious kind of way. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“Was that you on the news, pulling those kids out of the burning house?”
He nodded, his face grim. “Yeah, that was me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”
“You weren’t returning my calls. I didn’t think you’d want to hear about my day.”
She shook her head with a frown. “I always want to hear about your day, about everything in your life. Especially the death-defying things.”
“Okay, I’ll keep you informed in the future. Now, let’s get you out of those wet clothes.” He winked.
“Now watch it, Mr. Holden – I’m not that kind of woman.”
He laughed. “And for that I’m eternally grateful – you’re just the right kind of woman for me. I couldn’t be more in love with you, or more in awe.”
She laughed. “You’re in love with me?”
“Didn’t I just say that?”
“But before you only said you missed me and needed me. You never mentioned love.”
“Well, that’s because I’ve never said it to anyone before.”
“Never?” Her eyes widened. She’d said it to one man, and he’d rejected her so sharply she was certain she’d never say it again. But now she wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
“It’s not something that comes easily to me.”
“What isn’t – saying that you love someone, or loving them?”
He cupped her cheeks and stared deeply into her eyes. “Both. But I’ll say it now – I love you, Molly Beluga. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you and carried you down eight flights of stairs.”
She grinned, her throat tightening with emotion. “And I love you too, Tim Holden. Ever since you made me break the bowling alley floor.”