I don’t know what this is, but I hope I haven’t blown my chance before she shuts me out completely. I don’t even know her name, but something deep inside my gut is screaming at me to give it my all. This girl is special, and just looking at her, it’s easy to tell, but something has me wondering if she would feel the same.
“Uhhh,” she stumbles out, looking anywhere but at me, waving that ridiculous brush in my face. I mean, what the fuck does she plan on doing with that besides clocking me in the face? “I … I’m all good, thanks.”
Fuck, that voice of hers wraps around me like a welcome blanket on a winter’s night. How the hell does this one woman in ripped jeans, sneakers, and a plain black tank have that kind of power over me?
Her tone says loud and clear; back the fuck up, but I’m not one to give in that quickly, and certainly not with a girl like her. I need to see this through. Something tells me I’d regret it if I didn’t. Fuck it, I couldn’t live with myself if I were to leave without giving it a shot. What if this becomes something great? Besides, who am I to deny the woman if I’m what she needs in her life?
With that extra shot of cocky confidence, I can’t help the smirk that settles over my face, loving how she involuntarily sucks in a breath. “You sure, Angel?” I question, piercing my eyes into hers and hating the way she seems to step back away from me as though I’m the wolf about to blow down her castle.
She shakes her head ever so slightly. “Ummm, yeah, I’m all good thanks.”
My pager cuts her off, and I want to throw the damn thing across the store for interrupting whatever it is she was going to say.
I look down at the bastard. Why now? This better be fucking important. Damn it. It’s not exactly an emergency, more of a hurry up and get your ass down to the fire station page.
I look at the beautiful woman before me, watching me with amusement in her eyes, clearly having decided that the whole stalking thing was just a misunderstanding. “Gotta run,” I tell her as a wave of disappointment washes over me. I haven’t even asked her name yet.
I love being a firefighter. I’ve trained and worked my ass off to get to where I am today. It’s one of the hardest yet most satisfying things I could have ever done. But then, there are moments like this, moments where you sacrifice your own life for the sake of others. I didn’t even get her name and believe me, there’s just so much more I need to know about her.
How much of my personal life do I need to sacrifice before I simply don’t have one anymore? Maybe I should have listened to Mom and married Courtney Lukas right out of school. I could have had the big fancy-ass wedding and babies, but then, I found Courtney fucking around with my best friend and that idea went down the drain.
I step away from my angel before reaching up into the shelf. “Here,” I tell her, handing her the brush she’d likely need. Her fingers graze mine as she takes it from me, and my skin is left burning from her touch. Maybe she’s not an angel after all. Someone with the power to burn me like that must be some sort of devil. I wink and grin down at her. “You can thank me later.”
With that, I turn on the beauty before me and haul ass to the register.
I hurry past Sarah at the checkout and hand over the paint for Mom’s porch. She puts it with the rope under her counter, and I hurry on past. Avalon Lake isn’t exactly a small town, but the fire department is well known around here. We might get just a little special treatment here and there, which naturally, my boys soak up.
I hurry out to my truck and climb up into it before peeling out of the parking lot. It’s been a while since the last massive emergency. I'd like to think the town is finally learning how to avoid blowing themselves up, but there's always a calm before every storm, and I'm guessing our calm is over.
I haul ass to the station with my mind still on the girl. I missed my fucking shot. I’ve never seen her around here before, and the chances of running into her again are pretty damn low. If only I’d had another minute or two. I could have gotten her name and number, or at least some sort of information that could help me track her down.
But nothing.
Chances are I’ll never see her again and that knowledge really isn’t sitting well with me.