Page 24 of Packed in the Fire house

That T-shirt swiftly went in the basket.

For Luka, I gathered a few basics as well, mainly shorts, T-shirts, and a few warmer onesies. It was getting cold at night, and I didn't want him to catch a chill.

“This is?—”

“Needed.” Rune cut me off with a smile before I could insist it was too much.

“Really?” I huffed, hands on my hips.

My disgruntled tone only made him smile and nod. “Really,” he agreed. “Now, let’s go get checked out and grab some ice cream on the way back…”

Chapter 10

Sunny

Iwas still feeling a little self-conscious after the grocery and clothing store. The guys were generous. Beyond generous. I had no idea how to thank them.

Blaze’s excitement over the cookies had given me an idea, and when I mentioned fresh cookies to him, heranwith it. I had imagined getting a few ingredients to make a single batch of cookies, but I now had enough ingredients and equipment to run a small bakery. It was shocking that there was anything left in the baking section of the grocery store.

By the time we got back from the clothing store, it was already getting late, so I turned in early. I hadn’t seen Blaze or Walker, but I knew they were near. Their scents were everywhere. It was setting my omega on edge, but not in a bad way. I was simply very… aware of the scents.

The next day, I woke up late. It was already past midday when Luka started waking me up by slapping my face in that playful way only a child could.

“Morning, baby,” I hummed, pulling him in for a cuddle. “I bet you're hungry, aren't you?”

“Baba.” He nodded, like he understood what I just said.

With a groan, I stretched, standing and scooping up my baby.

The place was silent. The guys weren’t on shift, but that didn’t mean they were tied to the firehouse or owed me information on their location, even though there was an uneasy feeling in my stomach not knowing where they were. Padding into the kitchen, I smiled when I saw Luka’s sippy cup sitting on the draining board, freshly cleaned. I suspected Rune had something to do with that. Picking up the cup in one hand, I did a little maneuvering and grabbed the whole milk, filling it up and handing it to the wiggling child in my arms.

Once he was content, I looked around the kitchen, and an idea sprang to mind.

Returning to the bedroom, I grabbed the folding travel cot Walker had given me that first night. It was light and easy to carry, so lugging it to the kitchen was no problem.

Setting it up in a corner of the kitchen, I added a blanket. Rune had found a few unopened wooden block toys in the donation pile and given them to Luka. So, while he sat on the blanket, alternating between chewing on his new blocks and drinking out of his sippy cup, I gathered ingredients. Luka was relatively calm, probably because we had only been there a few days and everything was new, but I had no doubt he would be crawling around, causing chaos, in no time.

The kitchen was huge, which I appreciated. It meant that Luka could play a safe distance away but still be in my eyesight. He would be walking soon, and then I would be well and truly screwed. For now, he was safe, contained and happy, and I had my hands free so I could work.

Most children his age were already toddling around, but Luka was taking his time. I had taken him to the doctor to check everything was okay and he had assured me Luka would do things at his own pace. If he wasn’t toddling around unaided by two I would have to go back.

Still, it stressed me out and made me feel like a failure a times that babies his age were more advanced than him.

Studying all the ingredients we’d purchased yesterday, I did the mental math on how much of each we would need to make cookies.

A batch of chocolate chip and a batch of butterscotch pretzel seemed like a good start.

The kitchen itself was a dream. It was spacious, and everything was in excellent condition. Making a quick dough, I hummed to myself, constantly turning back to check on Luka, who was chomping on a handful of cereal I had given him. He had already ate several meals throughout the day but he was a hungry boy and always wanted a snack.

In between cookie batches, I slowly worked on deep cleaning the kitchen. It was clearly well-kept, but I imagined they didn’t have the time for a true deep clean often, given the nature of their work.

The fourth batch of cookies was going into the oven when I heard the sounds of doors opening and closing, footsteps on the stairs, and general sounds of people returning to the station.

They had been out for hours; it was already early evening.

“Hello,” a warm voice greeted me as a strange firefighter entered the room. He was an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and an LAFD T-shirt.

“Hi… Gil?” I asked.

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