Page 3 of Saved By the Firefighter

The cold water shocks me fully conscious. After I'm done, dripping all over the rug, I make quick work of brushing my teeth and tying back my long hair. I glance at my haggard expression, sorrow still too heavy on my face. I twist my face into a frown—better to look annoyed all the time than having people ask, "You okay?"

I'm fine, and there's no use dwelling on any of this today. Too much to do. I throw on my usual jeans and plain tee and head to the kitchen.

I pull supplies from the fridge. Soon, the sizzle of bacon fills the kitchen, my familiar morning routine grounding me. A bit later, Charlotte shuffles in, black hair a tangled mess, mumbling a sleepy, "Morning, Daddy." I give her a quick kiss on her head. It's a clumsy gesture, but it's all I've got. Then I scoop some eggs and bacon onto her plate.

We don't have a table since this place is so small, so she sits on the couch, ready to eat at the coffee table and watch morning cartoons.

I set her breakfast in front of her before grabbing my coffee. "Big day today?" I ask.

She's still yawning and rubbing her eyes when I return to the couch with my mug. She rubs her eyes with the backs of her hands—so like Sarah. Then her big eyes—also like Sarah's—glance at me.

I have to look away and ignore the ache in my chest, staring into my coffee.

Charlotte groans. "I have that math test."

"Math, huh?" I say, scratching my stubble. "Just remember what I told you about numbers—you control them, don't let them control you."

She gives me a half-smile. "That doesn't make sense, Daddy." She chomps on a piece of bacon and then says, "Oh, yummy."

"You'll do great. Just stay focused." I try to sound encouraging, but it comes out gruff. Still, she gives me a little smile. My heart swells for this kid. She's the best of me and Sarah, and I'm thankful for that.

Charlotte turns on the TV as she works on her breakfast. I sip my coffee and we fall into a comfortable silence. After a bit, her mood suddenly shifts as she pushes her empty plate away. A pout forms on her lips, like it does every morning here once reality sets in.

"I want to go back to the ranch," she grumbles.

"Saturday, pumpkin." I keep it simple, setting my empty mug down. "Just a couple days away."

She huffs, her arms folding across her chest. "But why do we have to be here so much? It's too small."

I frown. I'm doing my best to help her grow up humble, make it less clear how much wealth we have—a large inheritance from my late father. The last thing Sarah and I wanted was her to get too spoiled so she grows up expecting things to be handed to her. I want her to grow up with an appreciation for hard work and the simple pleasures. But she's old enough now that she's starting to realize most Dad's don't own large ranches with tons of horses.

I lean back on the couch and cross my arms, mirroring her. "Because it's closer to your school and my station." Charlotte doesn’t understand yet, but the duplex is more than just convenience—it's our shield, a way to blend into Cedar Ridge without the whispers that come with money and land. "Makes things easier, sweetheart."

She glares at me, looking for something more convincing. With a half-smile, I reach over to ruffle her hair. "You get to see your friends more often when we're here, right?"

"Guess so..." She's not entirely convinced, but she lets it slide.

I try to distract her from any sore feelings. "Hey, what's red and bad for your teeth?"

"What?" She tilts her head, knowing a cheesy joke is coming.

"A brick." I deliver the punchline with a wink.

Her laughter fills the room, genuine and unguarded, and my heart hums. It’s these moments, I swear...

Still chuckling, she hops off the couch to take her plate to the sink.

"Go get ready," I tell her. I really hope today will be a good week for her. She has been having some behavioral problems in school and falling behind. Hope she aces this math test.

She mumbles, "Yeah, yeah," as she makes her way down the hall.

I glance at the microwave clock. Almost seven. Almost time for Ellie to be heading out. I try to play it cool, but I can't resist peeking out the living room window. I try to convince myself it's just a habit, but who am I kidding? I'm drawn to her, even though I shouldn't be. Sure enough, there she is, on schedule.

I grab the trash and hustle outside. The screen door slams behind me with a metallic clatter that echoes too loudly in the quiet street. My heart does that stupid little jump when I see Ellie glance my way as I head to the curb.

"Morning, neighbor," she says with a little wave. Her caramel eyes are bright behind those wire-framed glasses. She has a skirt on with black pantyhose, and she's wearing a cardigan over a pink blouse. She's the sexiest teacher I've ever seen.

"Hey," I reply, going for casual even though my palms are sweating. I lift the lid on the bin and deposit the trash bag. Then I tip my chin, glancing up at the sky so I don't stare at the poor woman. "Headed off to mold young minds?"

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