Page 10 of Her Silver Fox Firefighters
“They had a pretty bad house fire a year ago. Thankfully, we were able to get them out in time. This is how they show their appreciation, even though we continue to insist we were just doing our jobs.”
“Wow, I think I’d be indebted to you for life, too,” Olivia replies. Her phone rings, and I catch a glimpse of Jim’s name on the screen. “Shoot, I overstayed. I need to head back to the diner. Sorry, guys.”
Instantly, I check the clock and glance at the dispatcher’s desk. It’s been quiet so far, so I decide to take advantage of this mellow hour to get to know Olivia better. “We’ll come with,” I tell her. “The diner coffee is better than ours, anyway.”
“Hey, Marty!” Beck calls out to the dispatcher. “We’ll be right next door, buddy. Call us if anything comes through the emergency lines.”
“Sure thing,” Marty casually replies from behind his desk, halfway through one of Jim’s buttered scones and a raspberry croissant.
“And save us some,” Leo adds, pointing at the box.
There’s no reply, but Marty knows the deal.
I keep one eye on Olivia as she brings us a round of freshly brewed Colombian espressos.
“Thank you,” I say as she hands me one.
Her hand is shaking a little as she leaves a little porcelain pot filled with milk next to my cup. Instinctively, I reach out and cover it with my own, our eyes locking. In that moment, I see it: the desire, the curiosity.
The longing.
4
OLIVIA
Beck and Dax watch me like hawks, hunger blazing in their eyes. I feel it, too, swelling in my chest like a hole that needs to be filled. They look particularly handsome in their uniforms, I’ll admit. It adds an extra layer to what I already find difficult to ignore.
At least I know it’s mutual.
Jim comes out of the kitchen; his apron is stained with smudges of red from what I assume is another batch of cherry pies to put in the pie display at the end of the bar.
“How are you coming along, Olivia?” he asks, giving me a subtle frown.
“So far, so good,” I reply with a warm but wary smile. I’m nervous and eager to please, but the idea of three months’ probation still scares me.
I need this job.
“How’s it going, Jim?” Dax asks, giving him a soft nod.
Jim’s grin spreads across his stubbly round face. “You heard the girl. So far, so good!”
“Glad you gave our new neighbor a chance,” he says.
“Oh, you’re neighbors?” Jim replies, sounding rather surprised as he looks back at me. “You’re on the same block, then?”
“Next door,” I say. “Mrs. Jackson’s place. I’m renting it from Chloe.”
“That’s nice. It’s a pretty house. It was a pity it stayed empty for so long. Well, provided you complete your probationary period, the full-time salary will come with a nice bump, so you can use that to take care of the front garden,” he says. “Melinda drove past it the other day and said it could do with a bit of tending.”
Beck frowns. “I mowed that lawn last week. What are you talking about?”
“I think she meant the flower beds. Mrs. Jackson loved her roses the best,” Jim replies, but Dax is more interested in the probationary part of his statement.
“Wait, Jim, hold on. Probationary period?” he asks.
“Well, yeah. I need to make sure Olivia can hack it. Oherwise, I can’t risk full-time employment. The taxes are ridiculous,” he says and shrugs in a defensive manner.
Dax doesn’t like it, though. I find myself surprised by his determination to land me a permanent position. I can’t remember the last time a man tried so hard to help me make it on my own.
