Cora showed up at Station Two carrying six pizza boxes. “Sorry I’m late,” she called up the stairs before taking them as quickly as she could and maintain her grip on the Philly cheesesteak, all-meat, and Alfredo Hawaiian concoctions she’d spent good money on.

Charlie met her at the top of the steps. “There you are. Haven’t seen you all weekend.” He took the boxes, and Cora turned around to get the rest of the food out of the back of Brennan’s truck.

“Been busy. Family party, remember?” She ducked back outside and accepted the bag with 2-liter soda bottles and the big salad she’d ordered. She always got that for herself, hoping one of the men would eat it too. Usually one or two took pity on her and scooped a few leaves of lettuce onto their plates before drowning the salad in ranch dressing.

“Come on up,” she said, her heartbeat quivering as it tried to pump blood through her body.

“I’m coming up?” Brennan stared at her, expecting something serious from her. He’d asked her to share something important from her life, but it had never come up. They’d talked about his career and she hated hearing the sad tone he’d used when he talked about his job and his unrealized dreams of going to college.

But he’d perked up at his grandparent’s house, and Cora had admired that strong relationship. Gramps made her laugh, and Grams gave her the unconditional love Cora craved from her own mother. Cora had felt more at home in their home in a matter of minutes than she’d felt in her childhood home in half a decade.

“I kinda like you.” Cora grinned at him, glad when his feet shifted and he flushed. “Everyone will grill me mercilessly about you anyway. Might as well give them something to talk about, right?” She bumped him with her hip and added, “So grab the rest of those pizzas, and let’s go.”

Her pulse accelerated as she climbed the steps for the second time, and she told herself it was simply because of the steepness of the stairs. She entered the common room, where someone had set up the tables for the pizza. Charlie had just slapped a stack of paper plates on the table and swung his attention toward her.

“Salad,” she announced. “Soda.” She scanned the room to the chorus of Brennan’s footsteps, noticing that all the men were there, waiting to be fed. Of course they were. It was Sunday afternoon—boring—and they knew she’d bring pizza.

Brennan reached the top of the steps and Cora pulled the plastic bowl of salad from the bag with trembling fingers. Kent took the pizzas from Brennan with a hearty, “Hey, man,” and put them on the table.

Cora basked in the silence that never seemed to descend on Station Two. “So this is Brennan Fuller,” she said. “I think most of you know him.” She suddenly understood how hard it was to introduce him, as they hadn’t defined their relationship. Cora despised labels anyway, preferring to have some wiggle room when it came to who she was to someone else.

And maybe she simply wasn’t ready to admit she was in a real relationship with a man. She’d spent so long denying herself such pleasures, dedicating herself to a different path than where she’d been before.

Brennan grinned at her, a knowing glint in his eye. He waved to the group of men advancing slowly toward the table. They wouldn’t attack the food until Cora gave the go-ahead, and not only because she was their Captain. But because their curiosity sometimes overwhelmed their never-ending need to eat.

“So I’ll call you later,” he said, stepping over to her. He spoke loud enough to be heard by everyone but not so loud it was obvious he was trying to be heard. He swept his lips along her cheek, moved back, and waved to the men again before disappearing down the steps.

Cora absently lifted her hand to the spot where his lips had been, very aware of the pounding of her heart and the brightness of the fluorescent lights in the station. Kent started laughing, and Cora dropped her hand.

“Shut up,” she said. “Let’s eat.”

She expected the boys to let the show of affection go and fill their plates with food. No one did.

“So you’re dating him?” Charlie asked.

“No,” Cora said quickly.

“So he didn’t just kiss you?” Jorge said, the first to reach for a plate. He lifted one eyebrow that said, Yeah, right, girlfriend.

“It was an interesting weekend,” she said.

“Looks like it,” Miller said. “Our little Cora has herself a boyfriend.”

“He’s not—”

“After a single weekend,” Charlie added.

“I’ve heard good things about the Fullers,” Max said, and Cora wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. She could probably leave and they wouldn’t notice.

Kent grabbed a slice of the cheesesteak pizza and fell back beside her. “Seriously, Cora. What’s going on with you two?”

Cora tucked her hands in the back pockets of her shorts and sighed. “I honestly don’t know.”

“You kiss him?”

“Technically, he kissed me,” she said. “And it was sort of necessary for the ruse at my family’s party.”

“Ohhh, I see. Necessary.” Kent took a bite of pizza and kept one eye on the all-meat pie he liked. “You spent a lot of time with him last week.”

“To be able to pull of a fake relationship at the party.”

“A fake relationship that looked very real just now.”

Fear darted through Cora, and she couldn’t swallow properly. Charlie joined them, a plate loaded up with salad and the Alfredo Hawaiian pizza for Cora. He handed it to her, and she nodded at him. Thankfully, no one asked her any other embarrassing questions and the conversation went back to who had the best record in the National League.

Cora ate her food, but the pizza she normally savored tasted like cardboard. By the time she crawled into the bunk way down on the end, away from the men on her squad, her thoughts screamed in her head.

She drew in a breath and thought about the pastor’s words from that morning. Believe that you’re good enough to make good decisions. And if you ever doubt, ask God.

Cora had relied on one thing since her divorce: her dream to become a hotshot. Every decision she made revolved around that. She knew nothing else. Trusted no other feeling, especially not the soft, sentimental ones that craved another kiss from Brennan Fuller.

She closed her eyes, but sleep didn’t claim her instantly. The whisper of Brennan’s scent tortured her, the softness of his lips against her cheek, the way he’d become part of her life without her even realizing it.

A smile stretched across her face, and she rolled over. Lord, she thought, the word clumsy in her mind. I’m not sure how to talk to you, but I’m wondering if you think it’s a good idea for me to continue dating Brennan Fuller?

She half-expected a bright light to illuminate her bunk. The darkness surrounding her stayed, but her heartbeat slowed and a feeling she hadn’t experienced before spread over her like a warm blanket.

She sifted through her vocabulary, trying to give a name to this bliss.

Peace.

Yes, this was peace. She smiled at the idea of pursuing something with Brennan, only a tremor of fear disrupting Cora’s comfort.

Cora worked all day the next day, doing the paperwork her Captain-ship required, as well as putting in the time for the chores she’d assigned herself. She worked out for a couple of hours and wasted the rest of the time on her shift on her phone. By the time she made it over to Brennan’s, she’d also spent a good portion of that time texting him.

And when she found him on his front porch, sitting with Sybil panting at his side, a squeal burst from her mouth and she couldn’t get her helmet off fast enough. She giggled as she skipped up the walk toward him, glad when he stood to receive her.

“So someone’s happy today,” he said, sweeping her into his arms. “Good day?”

“It is now.”

He looked at her with an edge of wariness in his eye. “Something’s different.” He backed up. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” But Cora’s voice strayed into the too-high range. She sat next to the basset hound and scratched behind her ears. “All right, fine. I did what your pastor said to do.”

Brennan sat next to her. “And what was that?”

She looked at him, sure he was kidding. “Didn’t you hear him yesterday?”

“I was, uh, distracted.” He reached for her hand and slipped his fingers between hers. “You sort of smell real nice, and I guess I couldn’t use so many senses at once.”

Cora blinked, little blips of joy beating through her like a pulse. A laugh flowed from her mouth, and pure happiness filled it, especially when Brennan joined his voice to hers.

“So,” she said as she sobered. “He said to believe that we could make good decisions. And if we didn’t believe that, to ask God.”

“Ah, okay. So you asked God? Or you made your own decision.”

“Some of both.”

“And what did you decide?”

Cora pulled in a breath, prepared to tell him something real—maybe the first real thing—about herself. “So I haven’t dated in a few years. I mean, I’ll go out with men, but nothing serious. I don’t want serious.”

Brennan’s arm flinched, like he was trying to pull it away and keep it in place at the same time. “All right.” He sounded wary, guarded, and she didn’t really blame him.

“I didn’t want serious,” she said. “I’ve been focused on my firefighting. I even came here just to get more rural experience for my application for the hotshot crews.”

“Mm hm. You’ve mentioned that.”

She had. Her stomach squirmed, and she wondered if he’d made dinner tonight. “Our relationship was simply going to be one week. The party. Done.” And yet, here she sat on this man’s front porch, holding his hand. “But I kinda like you, and I asked God if dating you would be okay.” She smiled, remembering that delicious feeling of peace. “And I felt good about it.”

Brennan’s grin was quick and wide. “Wow. That’s a lot to live up to.”

And she hadn’t even told him everything yet. “So yeah. If you’re up to it, I think you could be my first boyfriend in four years. My first serious relationship.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she coughed a couple of times.

“Boyfriend. Wow.”

“You’ve already kissed me.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug, and pushed her pigtail off her arm. “If you’re not up to it—”

“Oh, I’m up to it.”

She smiled at the basset hound, giddiness prancing through her like ponies in a parade.

“Do you want to go to dinner?” he asked. “Are you hungry?”

She nodded. “I am hungry, but I have one more thing to tell you.” She lifted her eyes to his, hoping she had the courage to say the necessary words. Hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t judge her too harshly.

“The reason I haven’t dated seriously—or wanted to date seriously—in four years was because of my divorce.”

His eyebrows shot toward his hairline. “You’ve been married?”

“Yes.” The emotion from that event still lingered so close to the surface, and Cora didn’t even know it. She swallowed. “His name was Brandt Cowell. We were married for two years. He was a firefighter too.”

“What happened?”

Cora wasn’t exactly sure, but she couldn’t say that. It sounded stupid inside her own head. “He fell out of love with me,” she finally said. “I’m not sure when, or why. But he packed everything he owned one day while I was at the station, and when I got home, I found an empty house and a folder of divorce papers on the kitchen counter.”

A phantom of that day drifted through her mind’s eye, and she lost herself in that depressive darkness where she’d lived for a while after Brandt’s departure. “My mother and sister didn’t understand it either. That’s when I became the black sheep of my family. They all loved Brandt and couldn’t understand what I’d done wrong to drive him away.”

Brennan remained quiet for several long moments. Then he finally said, “It takes two to tango, right?”

Relief flooded her. “Right.”

He inhaled and started to stand. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course.” She joined him and waited while he ushered Sybil back inside the air conditioned house.

“So dinner?”

“One more thing….” She stretched up onto her toes and ran her fingers along the base of his neck, right where his hair ended. He sighed, the breath stuttering out of his body, which drove Cora’s desire sky high.

She touched her lips to his at the same time his hands landed on her waist. He kneaded her closer, working his magic on her as he kissed her back. Cora took her time, held on, so she could memorize the taste of him, experience the careful way he seemed to savor her, and let herself have something she hadn’t had in a very long time.

Joy.

Peace.

Love?