Page 17 of Single Mom's Firemen

“I know, sir. Everybody loved him,” I say.

“Let’s give it a go,” he replies with a curt smile. “Let’s see what happens. But for your sake and mine, I’m gonna have you get in touch with Suzy. We’ll pull her out of retirement for a couple of days so she can show you the basics around here.”

My heart jumps. “Thank you so much, sir. You won’t regret it, I promise.”

“How soon can you start?”

“Right now, if you want. I can ask Marie to keep an eye on my kids for a while longer,” I blurt out.

He chuckles dryly. “Let’s have you come in tomorrow, bright and early. Six a.m. sharp. How’s that?”

“Yes, sir, that’s fantastic!”

“Good, we’re set, then,” he says and gets up from his seat. “Now, come on, let’s give you a tour of the place. The boys are in-house for now, so you might as well go ahead and meet them all. They’ll be giving you plenty of headaches if you’re not careful.”

I can’t help but laugh. It’s as if I am able to breathe again for the first time since the fire.

Once I’m out in the common room, however, my courage fades.

I feel like a lamb, practically hiding behind Holt as he walks me through the entire ground floor of the fire station, which consists of the common room, complete with a massive, open plan lounge area, kitchen, and dining space. The bunkroom and lockers are upstairs, from what I understand.

As soon as they see me, the Danson brothers are the first to come over. The rest of the crew give me curious looks and smiles, welcoming nods and the slight wave of a hand. They seem like a colorful bunch, likely loaded with dirty jokes and plenty of stories from the job.

“So? What’s the verdict, Chief?” Wyatt asks. “Is Halle going to be joining us?”

“She’s joining me, not you,” Holt jokingly bites back. “Keep your mitts off my girl.”

“Welcome to Fire Station 45, then, Halle,” Eric replies, giving me a broad and confident smile. It’s bold enough to make my spine tingle as I shyly smile back.

“It’s a pleasure and an honor to be here, gentlemen. I look forward to working with all of you,” I say, my gaze resting on his lips for one second too long. I’m still reeling from last night’s kiss. Still flustered and turned on, much to my chagrin. He lit a metaphorical fire in me and now I can’t put it out. It could become a problem. “Chief Holt decided to give me a chance. Let’s just hope I rise to the occasion.”

“You’ll knock it out of the park,” Wyatt shoots back. “Just handle his calls, make sure he takes his blood pressure medicine, and always put two sugars in his coffee. No cream. Easy peasy.”

Holt shakes his head and gently nudges me away from the Danson brothers. The crew at the fire house is pretty big, but I can tell that the brothers are the ones calling the shots around here. The others keep looking to them for the slightest hint of approval or dismay, based on what I’ve noticed so far, and they seem relieved that I’ve already been sort of accepted into the pack.

I’m relieved, too.

Once I’m home, I thank Marie for looking after my kids and proceed to offer her a cup of coffee. The Danson brothers have one of those cool capsule espresso machines, and it is dangerously addictive. Wyatt loves to stock the pantry with different flavor capsules, and I have found myself completely enamored with the hazelnut version.

We sit at the island counter while Sammy and Luna work on their coloring books at the dinner table, dozens of crayons scattered between them.

“I hope they were okay,” I tell Marie.

“Your kids are easy,” she laughs. “They pay attention. They ask questions. They’re curious. Granted, Sammy can be a handful if you’re not careful, but I like how Luna is able to temper him.”

I give my daughter a quick, affectionate look. “Yeah, she may be five but she’s a whip when it comes to keeping her baby brother safe and in line.”

“She had to grow up faster than most kids her age, huh?”

“You can say that” I reply, looking back at Marie. I notice the empathic gaze, the softness in her voice. She can see things in my kids that most people can’t. She’s an educator and works with children from all backgrounds on a daily basis. “Their father isn’t around. But when he was, he was… difficult.”

“Abusive?”

I nod slowly. “Not physically,” I lie.

“Sometimes mental and emotional abuse is even worse.”

“I tried to shield them as best I could. Ultimately, I walked away and filed for divorce. It was the only thing I could do.”

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