EIGHT
Brianna
I perched on the couch, surrounded by Blaise’s comfy and cozy things, the scent of him on the blanket, his coffee mug still in the sink. I loved being around him, being with his stuff, being in his life.
Jinx meowed and jumped up into my lap, curling and purring as he lay down. I put down the book I’d been reading and flipped on the television. The channel was set on the six o’clock news, a raging inferno of a fire blazing on the screen.
I narrowed my eyes, feeling suddenly attuned to all things catastrophic now that I had a search and rescue worker in my life.
“The fire at Raven Meadows Golf Course burns on for the third straight hour…”
The newscaster interrupted, her empathetic words stopping my heart cold.
Raven Meadows was right here in town.
Blaise was probably fighting that fire.
My heart pounded viciously in my chest, my palms itching with sweat before I hauled Jinx off my lap and stood.
Maybe I could call him? Maybe his crew wasn’t out on this fire.
I sidled up close to the television, narrowing my eyes at the grainy live footage.
“Shit.” I pushed a hand through my hair as I realized there were at least a half-dozen fire trucks gathered around a building, flames licking high into the evening sky.
“Fuck.” I pulled my phone from my pocket, finding no missed calls.
Of course, he wouldn't call me before he went out on a run.
Fighting fire was a job, just an everyday occurrence for him.
An everyday occurrence that risked his life.
I hadn’t thought about it in those terms until now, but being with a fireman meant living in a constant state of fear for his safety.
My stomach rolled, feeling like the sandwich I’d eaten for lunch hours ago might come back up.
I didn’t know if I was cut out for this.
What if something happened to him? How would I ever find out? Who would even call the chick sleeping with the fire chief?
I slumped down on the floor, cold hardwood biting into my knees as slow tears trickled down my cheeks.
Could I love a man who was married to saving lives?
Did I already love him?
Something told me it was too late, and the fact that I was sitting on the floor crying in his living room at this very moment felt like confirmation of that.
And so I waited.
I waited.
Minute after minute.
Hour after hour.
The local news updated me every hour on the state of the fire, and by nine p.m., long after he should have been home, they finally announced that it seemed to be under control.
One, two, then three fire trucks pulled out of the parking lot at the country club, but no matter how hard I’d tried, I hadn’t been able to spot Blaise. I’d briefly hoped for a news interview from the firehouse chief, but the reporter hadn’t done that. Or he wasn't there. Or I was just spinning myself out with worry.
And tomorrow was Thursday. I still had to work at the coffee shop.
I groaned, anxiety finally getting the best of my logic before I swiped my car keys off the counter and hurried out the front door.
I had to know he was okay.
I had to know he was safe.
I had to see him.
I crawled into my car that Blaise had delivered after the fire at my apartment, aiming it down the mountain and toward the Raven County Firehouse.
To him.
I prayed the hardest I’d ever prayed the entire way there.
I arrived at the firehouse twenty minutes later, my heart lodged in my throat and fingers shaking on the old steering wheel. I hardly had the car in Park before I was barreling out of the door. The parking lot was nearly empty, Blaise’s pickup still parked in one corner of the lot.
It didn’t look like anyone was here. Maybe he was still out at the clubhouse. Or maybe something even worse had happened. How would I ever know?
I tapped lightly on the small door that looked like it would lead into the office.
No answer.
I was surprised to find it unlocked, so I took a deep breath and opened it.
Silence.
Only a single light cast shadows across the dark garage. I climbed to the second floor, hoping like hell it was Blaise up there filing last-minute reports or something.
“Blaise?” I called softly.
I heard a door slam from somewhere deep in the firehouse, but I kept climbing, thinking at the very least I could ask whoever was in that room with the light on where the chief was.
I reached the top of the stairs, turned the corner, and ran smack into a wall of pure muscle.
“Brianna?” Blaise’s hands tightened at my elbows. I threw my arms around him, nearly climbing up his body as I held him to me, soft sobs shaking my form. “Baby, are you okay?”
“I saw the fire on the news. I was so scared.”
“Ahh.” He hummed, his hands pushing into my hair, his lips taking mine in a soft, slow kiss before pulling away. “Just got back. I was going to jump in the shower and get this soot off me, but then I decided I’d call you first, let you know I was on my way home. Figured you wouldn’t mind if I came home dirty.” He crooked that sexy side grin at me.
I shook my head. “I don’t mind you dirty at all, Chief Michaels. Long as you’re in my arms, I’m happy.”
He grinned, pulling me against him again. “Me too, baby. Me too.”
I held her like that for a long time, rocking her slowly in my arms, my dirty old boots and sooted-up gear still hanging off my hips. “I love you, Brianna. I love you so fucking much I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Her little fingers fisted in the cotton of my dirty T-shirt, her lips trembling as she whispered into my neck, “I love you too, Blaise.”
My hands trailed down her hips, her soft little body forming to mine like it was meant to be there.
Hell, it was. I was positive of it.
“Y’know, I’ve always wanted to fuck in the front seat of the fire truck.”
Her sweet laugh echoed off the firehouse walls, warming all the lonely chambers of my heart.
“Maybe we should get on that, then.”
“Or in it.” I grinned, swooping her into my arms and carrying her down the stairs on long strides. “I shouldn’t have left you alone so soon, Brianna. I fucked up. I should have been there for you. Should have told you what my life looks like before I just ran headfirst into the next burning building.”
“It’s okay, I know now. First time is the hardest, right?” she teased, clutching at my neck.
“Right, baby. Won’t make that mistake twice.”
I wouldn't make that mistake twice because I had a plan.
A plan to make her mine.
And I wasn’t about to waste any more time.
Seeing her coming undone worrying about me today was like a bucket of cold water over my head. Anything could happen to either one of us at any time, so I had to make the most of every single second we were given.
I had to get a ring on her finger, and I had to do it now.