Page 59 of Deck the Fire Halls

“Sounds perfect. Need me to do anything?”

He smiled behind his coffee. “Just sitting there is more than enough.”

His words went straight to my heart, sending a jolt of warmth through me. I stuck out the leg of my flamingo pants. “It’s the pajamas, right? I told you, they’re hot. There’s no resisting a man in these.”

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled at me. “Today’s my last day off. Back to work tomorrow.”

“We better make the most of it then.”

“Doing what?” he asked, his voice low.

Christ.

I cleared my throat. Damn, at this rate we were never going to leave the bedroom. “We need to do your Christmas tree. That’s very important. Then maybe we can take my bike and grab lunch somewhere while the weather’s good. The sun’s shining, so that’s a start.”

“Sounds great.”

“And then this afternoon I have to do very boring things like groceries and laundry.”

“Ugh. Reality.”

“Unfortunately.”

He took the eggs out of the fridge. “Then I should get started on breakfast.”

Scrambledeggs on toast had never tasted so good. He swore it was the real butter and fresh bread, but I was pretty sure it was the cook.

I did put my shirt on, and unfortunately, Rob did too.He clearly liked my fire department shirt though so it wasn’t a total loss.

And then we decorated his tree.

Literally.

He had the red and green baubles and Christmas lights from the Home Mart, and it was a pretty decent job, even if I did say so myself.

The best part for me though was how we talked while we did it. He told me how he’d decorate the tree when he was a kid. How he’d loved the holidays, and how his mom always made a big deal of it, even if they’d never had much money. Then when he was sixteen, she’d gotten ill. Had been ill for some time apparently, just never complained.

Cancer took her when he was eighteen, in his final year of high school.

And there began his desire to do medicine. To help people. To treat and heal people. She’d told him to follow his dreams and do what made his heart happy.

And medicine had made him happy. But the hours and the bureaucracy had almost killed him.

And now he was here.

It wasn’t a particularly happy story, but he smiled when he spoke of his mom; the memories happy ones, obviously.

He had an older sister who lived in Seattle. He had two nieces he didn’t see as often as he should have. He sent them gifts and they FaceTimed when they could.

He really had given up so much of his life for his work.

I told him about my family. My parents, my brother.About my childhood in Canada. How I’d loved playing hockey but blew out my knee in high school so that was the end of that. I told him I never had any inclination for college, how I’d considered joining the police but chose the fire department instead.

I’d done a few years in Calgary but then went through a two-week wildfire training course in Missoula, and I’d liked it here so much, I decided to stay.

I told Rob the truth. I’d needed a change of scenery. I’d needed to get out of my hometown and spread my wings. I hadn’t gone too far, but it was far enough away for a new start, close enough to get home in a hurry if I ever needed to.

He was just so easy to talk to. He thought about his word-choice, he was a great listener, and he had that calm and patient energy that doctors seemed to have.

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