Page 70 of Can't Help Falling

“I stopped by the house yesterday,” he says. “Once her insurance comes through, which should be pretty quick, she can get the restoration process started. It could’ve been a lot worse.”

I nod, trying not to picture it worse. It’s odd, but it hurts way more than it should, thinking about something happening to Emmy.

“Listen, there are a few traditions we have here that I want to make sure you know about.”

I frown because the captain sounds serious, and traditions don’t seem like serious business. “Okay.”

“One of them is the annual fireman’s calendar.”

I stare in disbelief.

“That can’t be a thing.”

“Unfortunately, it is,” he says. “You’d think it would’ve gone out of style, but it’s still a big moneymaker for the department.”

I can see where this is going, and I don’t want any part of it.

“It’s all done in good taste,” he says, preempting my refusal.

“So, what, they take pictures with our shirts off or something?”

“No,” he says, laughing. “Have you seen Rigsby’s midsection? I think the only letters of the alphabet that guy knows are K, F, and C.”

I stifle a laugh. It’s true.

“No, son, no half-naked firemen on my watch.” A pause. “They want to take your picture with the girl.”

I stare in disbelief for a second time

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“Captain, all due respect, but no.”

He chuckles and leans back in his chair. “I thought you might say that, so we sent Clemons over to talk to her about it.”

Clemons, as in, the only female firefighter in Harvest Hollow.

Also, one of the best.

“I don’t want to be in this calendar,” I stew. “Even if Emmy agrees.”

“Sorry, but there’s no way around it,” he says. “It’s for the good of the whole department.”

I lean back in my chair. “There have to be rules against this.”

“Nobody’s trying to turn you into Magic Mike over here,” he says. “And it was my wife’s idea, so I don’t really have a choice.”

I frown. “Your wife is in on this?”

“She heads up the committee that handles fundraising and community involvement—and the calendar,” he says. “She thinks the whole town will get behind a spread with a local business owner and her real-life hero. I think they’re going for romance or some nonsense. Probably put you both on the cover.”

I put my head in my hands and groan.

“It’s what sells. Whattaya gonna do?” He shrugs.

“If you think I’m going to. . .ride a horse, or stand in some stupid pose or whatever, you’ve got another thing coming.”

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