Page 2 of The Grumpy Firefighter
"We can discuss modifications," he says finally, the words clearly costing him something. "Safety remains non-negotiable."
"Of course," I agree, not breaking eye contact. "Safety first, magic second. But we can have both."
Logan clears his throat, breaking the tension. "Cookie, Chief?" he offers, holding out the container like a peace offering.
Paul Hawkins takes one without looking away from me, like he's trying to decode something written on my face. "Thank you for the refreshments, Ms. Wells."
"Natalie," I correct him. "If we're going to be haunted house co-conspirators, you should use my first name."
His mouth twitches, not quite a smile, but something. "Co-conspirators implies we're planning a crime, not a community event."
"All the best magic feels a little criminal, don't you think?" The words slip out before I can catch them, playful and slightly daring.
Paul Hawkins just stares at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he says, "We'll review your plans tomorrow. In detail. With the fire code regulations handbook."
It should sound like a threat, but somehow, bizarrely, it feels like we're sharing a private joke. "I'll bring my safety scissors and a helmet," I reply.
"Seven AM. Don't be late."
With that, he turns and walks out, leaving me feeling like I've just survived some kind of test but have no idea if I passed.
"Well," Logan says into the silence, "that was the most I've seen the Chief talk to anyone new in about six months."
"Is that... good?" I ask, still staring at the empty doorway.
"Hard to say," Nathan answers thoughtfully. "But he took a cookie. That's practically a marriage proposal in Paul-speak."
The others laugh, and just like that, the atmosphere lightens again. We spend the next hour going over initial plans, with the crew offering insights about the station layout and previous years' setups. They're smart, funny, and clearly dedicated, both to their jobs and to this community.
By the time I pack up my now-empty containers, the sun is setting, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose visible through the kitchen windows.
"Thanks for coming by," Nathan says as he walks me to the door. "Don't let Paul intimidate you. He's just... careful."
"I don't intimidate easily," I assure him, though my heart had definitely skipped when those gray eyes locked onto mine. "See you tomorrow!"
Chapter 2 – Paul
I've learned to expect the worst from every situation.
It's not pessimism, it's preparation. When you've carried friends out of burning buildings and watched how quickly safety turns to danger, you develop a healthy respect for Murphy's Law.
So as I move methodically through our half-assembled haunted house maze in the station's back lot, clipboard in hand, I'm cataloging everything that could go wrong.
The temporary walls create narrow pathways between prop stations, each one a potential hazard waiting to happen. Bradley's fog machine sits in the corner, cables snaking toward a power strip that's currently unplugged but positioned far too close to where water could pool if it rains.
I crouch down to examine a row of battery-operated lanterns that line one section of the maze. They're secured with zip ties, but not uniformly, some hang at perfect head-bumping height for taller guests. I adjust them, making notes.
"You're going to wear out that pencil, Chief."
I don't need to look up to recognize Logan's voice. My lieutenant leans against the temporary wall, arms crossed, that perpetual half-smile on his face.
"Someone has to think about liability," I respond, straightening. "One lawsuit would wipe out any fundraising profits."
"Always the optimist." Logan pushes off the wall and comes to stand beside me, surveying our progress. "The creativity committee has arrived, by the way. Nathan's showing them in."
I suppress a sigh. "Them?"
"Just the girl. Natalie."
