Page 55 of Free to Live
“So, what’s an average day like for you?” I ask once he’s swallowed. “A lot of callouts?”
“Because we’re EMTs as well as firemen, I’d say a fair amount. And then we go through a full safety check of all equipment and our vehicles when we’re back at the house. That includes stocking supplies, checking to make sure everything is in working order for the next callout, things like that.” Joe stabs his fork into his container of pulled pork, takes a bite, and swallows. “Then there’s the paperwork.”
“Not a lot of downtime to just hang out, then,” I surmise.
His face turns thoughtful. “I wouldn’t say that. It comes in waves. We do get downtime which we spend it in a lot of ways.”
“Like how?” I shove a bite of my own pork into my mouth.
“Well, we could probably beat the pants off any teenager at most online games. In fact—” He leans back in his chair, pulling his uniform shirt tight again his firm chest. I dart my eyes down to my food trying not to notice. “—we help the CPD with some of their cyberbullying cases by hanging out in the online game rooms.”
My eyes fly up to meet his. “Seriously?”
He nods. “Yep.”
“That’s awesome.”
“Most of the time it is,” he agrees. Then his face breaks into a huge grin. I’m temporarily blinded by those dual dimples. “That is until we have to testify against one of the little punks and we have to create a whole new handle, losing our high score.”
I roll my eyes, my enchantment with his handsome features broken over such a guy comment. “Your sacrifice is noted.”
He chuckles. “What about you? What’s a typical shoot like?”
I snort. I can’t help it. “There’s nothing typical about any shoot, Joe. That’s what makes it almost impossible to hire someone to support me on staff.”
Picking up his cornbread, he tears off a chunk. “Give me an example.”
I take a drink of my soda while I think about it. “Okay.” Leaving out the names of the individuals, I tell him about the wedding that didn’t occur the other day where I ended up breaking the bride’s heart and we brought the cake back to Amaryllis to devour.
By the time I’m done, Joe’s face is outraged.
“And that’s not the first time…” I shake my head. “That’s not even the fifteenth.”
“That’s horrible,” he declares. I shrug.
“It’s a part of the job. Sometimes you see things through a lens you wish you’d never captured, and other times you capture beauty so magnificent you swear there’s nothing on earth that’s going to top it again in your lifetime.” I take a bite of my own cornbread and swallow. “I prefer the second, obviously.”
He grins. “Like for example, the pictures of you and Grace?” I shake my head. “Astounding.”
His face takes on a cast of vulnerability that hurts so deep inside, I don’t think I would take the shot even if I could. “Really?”
I reach for my phone and quickly access the office cloud drive. “These aren’t touched up yet,” I warn, handing him my phone.
There’s silence between us for a few minutes as he taps the screen. It stretches on so long, I begin to fidget in my chair. It isn’t until I hear his murmured “I knew you were talented, but I didn’t realize you could pluck love and happiness out of thin air” that I begin to breathe again. “These are…there isn’t a strong enough of a word.”
“Thank you,” I say sincerely. “That means the world to me.”
I don’t think I’m meant to hear his heartbreaking “This was what Mary wanted. Just a beautiful family photo,” so I ignore it and focus on eating my lunch. Joe continues to flip through the photos of him and Grace until he comes to the end. “As I said, even though I’m sure you’ve heard more eloquent compliments, they are spectacular.”
“If they’re from the heart, each compliment means everything to me,” I counter.
“You have to let me pay you,” he begins, but I shake my head.
“We have a deal. Coffee from Ava and Matt’s and the cost of printing the photos,” I say stubbornly.
“Then how about this.” He leans forward. “I don’t know what your family plans are for Mother’s Day, but I’d love if you were to bring the gift by for my mom. She makes a hell of an Italian feast that day. She’d be honored if you joined us.”
“We celebrate as a family for brunch, but I couldn’t intrude,” I protest.
