Page 12 of Cabin Fever With My First Flame

I wave the vestiges of smoke from my face and cough one more time. “I haven’t burned anything since high school when I tried to bake you a birthday cake. This was a fluke, Finn, and that’s because I was distracted.”

Ella snickers. “Yeah, you were distracted by the ‘Abs and Pecs’ show.” It’s then that Finn realizes he hasn’t put on a shirt, and his upper torso is on full display.

Finn blushes, but his cheeks redden even further when Micah adds, “Wait until he flexes his biceps. Ladies are lining up around the block to buy the Christmas Firefighter Calendars because he’s Mr. July, shirtless and holding a cute Dalmatianpuppy. Calendars came out last month and are $20 a pop to raise money for families who lose everything in a fire.”

Finn points toward the living room. “Don’t you kids have a game to play or an argument to start?”

Micah and Ella both snicker but don’t hesitate to head toward the gaming console. Isaac is still diligently standing guard, so I walk over to him and say, “You did a great job, Kiddo. Your warning saved us all. For all your hard work, you get to choose what’s for breakfast.”

Isaac puffs out his chest, proud he could be of service. “Can we have snowman pancakes and scrambled eggs?”

“Sure thing. Do you want to help or hang out with everyone else in the living room?” I ask.

Isaac’s eyes brighten and dance with delight. “I want to help! I’m really good at cracking eggs.”

I pull out the two cartons of eggs from the refrigerator that are thankfully on the top shelf and not the middle one that needs fixing. I search for a large mixing bowl and find one just out of my reach. Finn notices my dilemma and grabs it for me.

“Thank you,” I tell him, then shooing him out of the kitchen. It’s then that I realize I have a problem and chase after him. “Finn, wait! I don’t know how I’m going to make cookies without a few more sticks of butter and extra eggs.” I lower my voice so the kids don’t overhear, “I’m going to have to renege on a promise, and I’ve never done that before.”

Finn’s face twists in a mask of confusion. “Yes, you have, Bailey. You broke your promise to me.”

Now, it’s my turn to be confused. “No, I didn’t. You broke your promise to me! You’re the one who left and never came back!”

Finn turns his back. “You didn’t give me a reason to, Bailey, but it’s all water under the bridge now. If you need extra eggs, butter, milk, and staples, ask Micah to show you where we store them in the fridge downstairs.”

He continues walking down the hall, not giving me a chance to respond. I stand there for a long minute with my jaw hanging by my ankles, flabbergasted that Finn is blaming me for our break-up.What did I do to make him think I broke my promise to him?

I don’t have the answer to that, but you can bet your bottom dollar that I’m going to find out.

Chapter eight

Finn

I take longer inthe shower than necessary, but I figure it’s safe enough to do so since I’m not hearing a smoke alarm blare or the kids shouting at one another. In fact, I hear the faint sound of laughter coming from the living room and kitchen area. It’s a sound I could get used to despite my long-standing bachelor status and my preference for peace and quiet.

As I towel dry my hair, I think about the full house and the feisty woman in my kitchen. I’ll be the first to admit that it’s a new experience for me, as is being a father figure. I don’t know the first thing about being a parent or taking care of anyone other than myself. Being a firefighter is one thing, but it doesn’t require that I put a roof over someone’s head or feed them three meals a day. Yet, I find myself wanting to take care of Bailey and the kids—all six of them.

Micah is right about one thing, although I’ll never tell him that since it will go straight to his head, and he’ll lord it over me. It’s true that I’ve never gone on more than three dates with a woman since Bailey and I parted ways. Bailey was perfect for me in every way, and no one has come close to measuring up. As Micah put it, “The Bailey Bar” had been set, and there was only one person who could reach it.

I throw on a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt before looking out the window to check the weather. I need to get Bailey and her girls down the mountain and out of my house before I do something foolish, like kiss Bailey senseless and lose my heart all over again. I still haven’t fully recovered from the first time.

Drawing back the curtain, I frown. It’s still snowing, and the wind has caused drifts that are slowly creeping up the side of the house. By my best estimate, there is nearly five feet of fresh powder on the ground, and the chances of getting out of here are nil.

More laughter greets me as I come down the hall and enter the kitchen to a plethora of smiling faces—some of which are covered in flour. Jonah is the first to see me and grins, “Hey, Finn! We’re making pancakes from scratch! I’m going to put chocolate chips in mine!”

“That sounds delicious. What should I put in mine?” I ask him.

“Bailey said you used to use your pancakes to make breakfast tacos filled with eggs and bacon,” Isaac interjects. “Bailey has asheet of bacon in the oven, and Ella is scrambling eggs! I’m going to try one of those!”

I go and stand next to Bailey, who is hovering over a large griddle and adding fresh ingredients to each of the pancakes. There are bowls of blueberries, small banana chunks, chopped walnuts, chocolate chips, and diced strawberries. I lean against the counter and fold my arms across my chest. “I can’t believe you remember how I eat pancakes.”

She doesn’t look at me when she replies, “It’s hard to forget when we made them every Saturday morning for three years. Although those pancakes were from a box mix and needed all the help they could get to make them palatable. If you prefer something different now, that’s okay.”

I can’t help but wonder if she’s talking about more than the pancakes. “Nope. I’m a creature of habit. I tend to stick with something as long as it’s good.”

Bailey begins flipping the flapjacks, which are light and fluffy with a beautiful golden-brown top. “Sure you do; until something comes along that’s even better. Then it’s bye-bye pancakes without so much as an explanation.”

“Bailey…”

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