Page 5 of A Gift for her Festive Firefighter

“Do we need to get the sheriff?”

“Seriously? Don’t get all snotty, Jacob. You know I don’t do drugs.”

“Just doing my job.”

“Actually, I don’t think a paramedic is supposed to harass me to see if I did drugs, too. I think your focus is supposed to be on the guy who’s currently sawing logs and drooling on the stretcher,” she finished, only to see the dreamboat was walking away. He was heading back to the fire truck without so much as a ‘hello,’ ‘what’s going on’, or ‘what’s your name’ thrown in her direction. Yeah, her brush with the mysterious new firefighter was already over with, and she could go for seconds or thirds, that was for sure.

“Why can’t Krista set me up with him instead?” she muttered under her breath and winced as Jacob instantly caught what she’d said aloud.

“You and Captain Pruitt? Seriously?” – and then the troll began laughing loudly, slapping Rodney, the EMT, on the knee. “You hear that load of hooey? Beary’s got a massive crush on the newbie, Captain Pruitt!”

“Shut up, Jacob…” she grumbled, feeling her face flush with embarrassment – and really grateful that the fire truck was now leaving.

“Maybe she could check out his undercarriage?”

“Or at least his belts and hoses… get it – firefighter? Hoses?”

“I get it! That’s a good one!”

“Perhaps she could…”

“Don’t you two have something to be doing?!” she blurted out, painfully mortified and fully aware that she wasn’t exactly the town’s greatest beauty. No, half the time, her hair was up in a ponytail, her nails were broken, or she was up to her elbows in dirt, grease, and grime. She had taken a bath in brake fluid more than once by mistake, hated the smell of burnt transmission fluid, and had a variety of coolants that would make a stained-glass window envious of the bright colors.

“You and the captain?” the two men were still laughing – and as tears stung her eyes, she walked off angrily. The last thing she was going to do was stick around to be the butt of their jokes.

Right now, she wanted to be alone, go rail at Krista for tonight’s fiasco, cry her eyes out behind closed doors, and hide away from it all because no one was ever going to look at ‘Beary’ like she was a real woman. In fact, the town thought it was so cute that Barry Beary’s daughter had taken up being an automotive mechanic like her father – and ‘little Holly’ became ‘Beary’ overnight.

“A chip off the ol’ block…” she whispered, pulling her denim jacket around her and crossing her arms over her chest as she walked back to her apartment above her garage. “The Beary’s can fix anything…”

And it was true.

Holly had been a whiz in her automotive classes, picked up all sorts of tricks from her father before he’d passed away, and was always learning, staying on top of the newest gadgets and gizmos that some of the newer cars had. She even worked on painting in the unused paint booth that her father had put in before he died. He wanted to expand the business since there were two of them now, and she didn’t have the heart to sell it – especially since it was paid off.

“G’Night, Beary…”

“Evening,” she said simply, waving politely as she walked down the street, passing house after house.

“Weather’s still pretty nice, eh?”

“Yup. We’re good for at least another month or two before the cold snaps hit.”

“Have a nice walk, Beary…”

“Thank you, Mrs. Becker…”

“I’m gonna bring my lawnmower over to get the oil changed, the plug replaced, and the blades sharpened.”

“Sounds great, Mr. Sanders.”

Yup.

Small town life, and everyone knew everything about you, and gossip spread like wildfire. It was definitely time to go home as quickly as possible before the ‘comments’ started – and she could hear them now in her mind.

Heard ol’ Davy was strung out again.

You and Davy? Are you on drugs now, too? Your papa would be so ashamed.

I heard you had a thing for the new captain at the fire station.

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