Page 43 of Fire and Icing

Lunch with the firemen of Waterford. That’s an offer most women would jump at without a second thought. But Dustin and I have just supposedly started dating. Faking, starting our charade—or whatever this is. Does the acting begin next week, or have we already slipped into our roles without even trying?

“I should probably go,” I tell Dustin.

We haven’t stopped staring into each other’s eyes. The slate blue is more blue today, like crystal waters. I can’t look away.

“Nah. You should dry off, get into a clean shirt and eat a meal with us. I promise we don’t bite. Well, at least the rest of the guys don’t. I can’t really vouch for what I’ll do around you, apparently.”

He chuckles nervously and I smile up at him. I’m officially convinced it’s impossible to stay mad at this man.

“Alright, but …”

“The dating thing?” he asks nonchalantly.

“Yes. That.”

“Just follow my lead. We’d only be starting to date anyway. No one’s going to believe we’ve been dating the whole time I was trying to make up for being an oaf.”

“True.”

“So, we’ll just glance at one another a lot. We’ll make giddy looks at one another. Smile private smiles. You know, the kinds of things you do when you’re first dating and you can’t stop thinking about the other person. I’ll pull out your chair. Stuff like that.”

“Stuff like that,” I repeat.

“Exactly,” Dustin says with an air of carefree confidence that surprisingly settles my nerves instantly.

“Okay,” I relent. “Lead the way.”

Dustin wheels my bike inside the bay and leans it against the wall. He opens the door and I step through.

David looks up from his laptop. “What happened?”

“Rookie here gave Emberleigh a surprise shower with the station hose,” Cody announces with all the mischievousness of a sibling tattling to his parents.

“You did, did you?” David asks Dustin.

“Not on purpose. But, yeah. I did.”

“Why don’t you get her a shirt to change into?” Greyson suggests, eyeing me like I’m an intruder even though we’ve known one another since we were kids. “And I think we’ve got some old gym shorts around here somewhere that might fit her. Remember that one guy? Shawn? Sherman? …”

“Shane,” Cody says. “Lasted a week.”

“He was about Emberleigh’s size,” Greyson says.

His tone is neutral. You’d think he was irritated, only I’ve known him long enough to know that’s just how he comes across. Under that gruff exterior is a soft heart bigger than a barn door.

Dustin walks out the side door, through the bays. I glance around at the men seated around the dining table and turn to follow Dustin. I’ve only been in the sleeping quarters at the station two other times—tours for my elementary school. I remember thinking firemen lived at the station all the time. Seeing the beds in dorm rooms, two per room, through my childhood eyes only solidified my suspicion.

Dustin pulls open a locker and scans the stacked clothing inside it. He pulls out a pair of shorts that might even be too big for him, holds them up, and we both crack up.

“Yeah, no,” he says. “I don’t even know why we’re keeping these.”

He tosses them onto a side table.

He hunts a little more and produces a pair of men's athletic shorts and a grey T-shirt with the emblem of our Waterford station on the front.

“You can change in there.” He points to a communal restroom.

“You can head back to the kitchen,” I offer.

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