Page 33 of Playing With Fire

Evelyn let out a small laugh, tilting her head back against the chair. “Oh, you know. The usual dance of politics and diplomacy. We spent an hour debating the font size on a public safety pamphlet. Riveting stuff.”

Cass smirked. “Sounds like you’re really changing the world.”

“Don’t mock me,” Evelyn said, her voice teasing. “I’ll have you know that pamphlet might save lives. If anyone ever reads it.”

Cass chuckled, reaching down to scratch behind Smokey’s ears. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing good work. Even if it’s in Helvetica.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes but smiled, her fingers brushing lightly against Cass’s arm. “And you? Did you terrorize any rookies today?”

“Not terrorize,” Cass corrected with a mock-serious tone. “Mentor. I’m shaping the future of firefighting, one awkward hose drill at a time.”

Evelyn arched a brow. “And how’s Masie doing? Has she figured out which end of the hose to hold yet?”

Cass snorted. “Barely. But she’s got heart, and that counts for something.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the kind of silence that didn’t need filling. Smokey let out a contented sigh, his paws twitching as if chasing something in his dreams. The air was warm but carried the promise of cooler night breezes, and the faint scent of Evelyn’s gardenias wafted from the flowerbeds lining the porch.

“You know,” Evelyn said softly, her gaze fixed on the horizon, “there was a time I never thought I’d have this. A home, this kind of peace. You.”

Cass glanced at her, surprised by the vulnerability in her voice. Evelyn wasn’t one to dwell on the past or wear her emotions on her sleeve. It made these moments all the more precious.

“Yeah,” Cass said, her voice low. “Me too. Thought I’d spend my whole life chasing fires and barking orders. Didn’t think I’d have time for anything else.”

“And now?” Evelyn asked, turning to look at her.

Cass reached for her hand, their fingers intertwining. “Now I’ve got everything I need right here.”

Evelyn’s lips curved into a soft smile, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. The sun sank lower, its light fading into a dusky purple. The first stars began to appear, tiny pinpricks of light against the darkening sky.

“You’re getting sappy on me, Harris,” Evelyn said after a beat, her tone light but her expression warm.

Cass chuckled, squeezing her hand. “Don’t get used to it.”

They lapsed into silence again, but this time Evelyn leaned over, resting her head on Cass’s shoulder. Cass shifted slightly, wrapping an arm around her. It was an instinctive gesture, one born of years spent learning the rhythm of each other’s presence.

“You know,” Evelyn murmured, her voice muffled against Cass’s shoulder, “I still think about that first argument we had. In your office, about…what was it? Fire truck maintenance budgets?”

Cass laughed softly. “You mean the one where you were wrong?”

Evelyn lifted her head just enough to glare at her. “I wasn’t wrong. You were being stubborn.”

“And you were being impossible,” Cass countered, her grin widening.

“Fair,” Evelyn conceded with a mock sigh, settling back against her shoulder. “And yet, here we are.”

“Here we are,” Cass echoed, her voice tinged with affection.

Smokey stirred at their feet, letting out a small huff before curling into a tighter ball. Cass absently reached down to pat his side, her gaze drifting upward to the sky. The stars were coming out in earnest now, the constellations twinkling like old friends.

“You ever think about what’s next?” Evelyn asked quietly.

Cass tilted her head, considering. “Not really. I figure we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing. You with your pamphlets, me with my rookies. Maybe take a vacation someday, if you can pry yourself away from your meetings.”

Evelyn hummed thoughtfully. “A vacation sounds nice. Somewhere warm, maybe. With no cell service.”

“No cell service?” Cass teased. “You’d last, what, a day?”

“I’d last two,” Evelyn said with mock indignation. “Maybe three.”

Cass laughed, the sound low and genuine. She tightened her arm around Evelyn, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Whatever’s next, we’ll figure it out.”

They sat there as the evening deepened, the stars shining brighter with every passing moment. The porch, their home, this quiet life they had built together—it wasn’t flashy or dramatic, but it was theirs. And that was enough.

As the last traces of daylight disappeared, Evelyn sighed contentedly. “I’m glad it’s you, Cass. It’s always been you.”

Cass didn’t reply right away, letting the words settle in her chest like a warm glow. Finally, she said, “And I’m glad it’s you.”

They stayed that way, wrapped up in each other, until the night was full and still. And as Cass looked out at the vast sky, she felt the kind of peace she’d once thought was impossible—alife of love, balance, and quiet joy, shared with the person who had become her everything.

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