Page 7 of Cross Checks

Chapter3

Chase

It was a crisp early November evening as I walked down the street to Lou’s. When I drew close, my heart started to pound. Hank was already there, and he was waiting outside.

He stood tall and solid, as unmistakable in street clothes as he was in his firefighting uniform. His broad shoulders relaxed as he leaned against the bar’s outside wall.

Hank’s thick beard was neatly trimmed. He wore a flannel shirt that was just snug enough. It hugged the muscles he’d shown off with the t-shirt he wore to the hospital.

A few steps away, my mouth dried up like I’d chewed on a few cotton balls. I struggled to make words, but finally, I barked out only, “Hey Hank,” a little worried that perhaps I sounded overly forceful.

Once he turned toward me, I realized I didn’t need to worry. His face lit up with a warm and welcoming smile. “Chase, bud, glad you could make it.”

I was ready to shake hands, but he surprised me. Hank opened his arms and folded me up against his body. My breath caught in my throat as I inhaled a slight woodsy cologne scent that matched his flannel shirt perfectly.

We were both solid and muscular due to our respective professions. While we hugged, I fought back my desire to see him without clothes.You’re just being social, Chase. Don’t jump too far ahead.

“Thanks for inviting me,” I said. Hank let go, and I followed him through the door into the familiar atmosphere of Lou’s. It had been a mainstay of downtown Cold Pines for over 100 years, and some of the wood furnishings were starting to show the wear.

Hank slid into a booth, and I settled on the opposite side. The warm glow of the dim lighting blended with the low murmur of conversations to create a cozy, intimate setting.

A server stopped by to take our drink order, and after we both ordered beers, she asked if we wanted any food.

Hank looked at me. “The barbecue boneless wings are great. Share an order?”

“Perfect. I’ll try to save a few for you.”

Hank grinned behind his thick beard. After the server left, he started the conversation.

“So, Chase, tell me more about yourself. What’s it like playing hockey for the Cold Pines Cougars? The team has been here my entire life, but I’ve never gotten to know one of the players.”

I appreciated his interest and gave him the best possible answer I could. “It’s a lot of hard work. I won’t deny that, but it’s worth every minute. The team’s like family to me.” I paused and wondered whether I should continue.

Hank leaned forward and nodded. I added, “Off the ice, my life’s pretty average. I hang out here and spend time with friends. There’s nothing far out of the ordinary.”

Our beers arrived, and I lifted my bottle. Hank mirrored the action, and our drinks clinked in a celebratory toast. “Here’s to surviving nasty fires,” I suggested.

“Agreed,” echoed Hank before he swallowed a mouthful of beer.

While we drank, I pondered how much detail of my personal life to share with Hank. I hadn’t figured out whether we were on a date or he saw it as just a friendly social thing.

I’d never had a serious dating relationship with a man. A few one-night flings dotted my past, but none ever developed into anything more.

To stop second-guessing myself, I decided to shift the conversation in Hank’s direction. Leaning across the edge of the table, I asked, “So, what are some of the craziest calls you’ve had as a firefighter? I bet you’ve seen some wild stuff.”

He grinned and sipped his beer. “Well, there’s never a dull moment. That’s for sure.”

He quietly stroked his beard for a minute or two. “One call that sticks out happened a few years back. A siren went off in the middle of the night about a house fire. When we arrived, flames had already claimed most of the second floor. Neighbors told us that an older couple lived there, but their car was gone, so everyone thought the house was empty.

He paused and then ran his fingers through his close-cropped hair.

“We were fighting the fire from the outside and doing our best to contain it so it didn’t spread to any other nearby houses. Then, one of the guys heard faint crying sounds coming from inside.”

“Oh, no,” I whispered.

“It turns out the couple’s teenage granddaughter was house-sitting, and they neglected to tell the neighbors. The fire trapped her in a room on the second floor.”

A chill raced up my spine. I didn’t think I was ready to hear a story with a devastating ending. “What happened?”

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