Page 39 of Free to Live
“I think you’re doing fine.”
I let out a deep breath. “I just wanted to say thank you for being kind.”
She stands and the sweater she’s wearing shifts to drape over her hourglass figure. I try not to let my reaction to her natural beauty affect me. “A wise person once told me apologizing to people is worse than running. Ultimately, you’ll end up more out of breath due to the number of apologies you have to make.”
“Sounds like a smart person.”
She surprises me by rushing past me through the door where I’m standing and looks out both ways before stepping back into her office. She’s so close I can smell the floral scent of her shampoo. “Shh! We don’t tell Phil he’s right. Freeman family rule number one. He gets a big head.” Her wink does a lot to ease the burning in my gut I’ve felt since I walked into Ali’s office.
I grin. “He deserves an award for growing up with five sisters.”
“Yes, yes he does.” Quirking her lips in a smile more real than any since I’ve stepped into her office, she retreats toward her desk. A silence settles between us as a frown pulls her eyebrows back down. She glances down at her notebook, uncaps her pen again, and jots down a few items. I stand there uncertain what to do next.
“I guess I’d better head back to the station.” The awkwardness between us hasn’t entirely been erased.
Her head snaps up, and her eyes go wide. Honest to God, did she forget I was there? Her cheeks flush in embarrassment. “God, I’m so sorry. I’m trying to clear as much off my plate for a shoot later and…”
“And now you’re apologizing for something you don’t need to,” I say firmly. “Really, Holly, I know I interrupted what you were working on.”
“My life revolves around being focused in one way or another.” She shrugs helplessly. “I tend to ignore the rest unless it’s shoved right under my face.”
“Or it’s in your shot?”
“Something like that, yeah.” She smiles.
“Then don’t let me distract you. I’ll see you next week?”
Stepping toward me, she informs me with exaggerated mock-hauteur, “My job is to make sure you don’t see me. Besides, you’ll likely be expounding your energy running.”
Why that causes a flare of disappointment, I don’t know. “Then I’ll see you when I see you.”
“Absolutely.” Her voice is firm, but at least there’s a smile behind it. “Be safe, Joe.”
It’s a small thing, but her words warm a place in my heart that hasn’t been warm since Mary used to whisper, “Take care of my guy,” before every shift. Unknowingly, my smile’s a little broader when I whisper, “Will do, Holly,” before I leave her office, stride down the hall, and head downstairs.
My thoughts drift while I’m studying between calls. I go over my conversation with Holly. It’s nice knowing there’s someone out there who cares about my safety even if it’s in the most superficial of ways. She probably would have said the same thing to Brett or any of the guys in the house, but for just a moment, it made me feel special again.
17
Holly
Race day has finally arrived. And while Phil has done nothing but bitch about the fact he’s been awake since five, the day itself couldn’t be more perfect. Every member of our family and extended family are working. Ali, Phil, and Em are swamped at registration. Jake is spinning up tunes this morning but will be turning over that duty over to Jared, Cassidy’s brother-in-law, tonight so Jake can take center stage with some of the students from his school district to play live at Tide Pool.
Caleb, Colby, and Keene are selling T-shirts while Charlie—our family’s adopted father figure—and a bunch of the guys from Hudson who are all professionally trained EMTs are going to be mobile on bicycles, patrolling theroute. Cassidy’s also arranged for the spouses of the CPD and CFD volunteer to either set up, hand out, or break down the water stations along the course.
I’m racing around taking shot after shot. Ali’s idea of a prize for craziest running costume has me howling with laughter. Oh my God, is that person wearing a cardboard cutout of a flame emoji? How the hell do they expect to move their legs? Some of the prizes we’re going to hand out later are going to be epic, I think to myself, as a couple who are handcuffed together go jogging by to warm up; she’s dressed in a police outfit, he as a criminal. Or they’re going to inspire some fun later. I’m definitely amused.
There must be at least five hundred people milling around for the start and more waiting to register at the last minute. Even without the pancake breakfast later or tonight’s party, today is already an unmitigated success.
“I couldn’t agree more,” I hear behind me. Cursing myself for speaking aloud, I swiftly turn and almost trip over my own feet in my worn-in running shoes.
Joe grabs me beneath the arms to prevent me from falling. That look—the shock, the awe, the pride, and happiness. I have to have it. Quickly, I lift my camera and snap a close-up. He chuckles. “Can’t resist, can you?”
“Not today. Happy?” I don’t want to ignore him, but I have a job to do, so I keep my camera up and start to move around in between people. He follows me.
“I don’t think that quite covers what I’m feeling. I’m astounded. This is beyond my wildest imagination.”
I reply, “That’s how it should be.”
