“You should have done that a week ago,” Clara said. “Instead of being a grump.”
“I have an excuse. I’ve had a lot on my mind, in case you didn’t notice.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t be a nice guy,” she said.
“I’m a nice guy. I baked Taylor a birthday cake.”
“You could have been nicer tome,” she clarified.
I ran my thumb along the side of her eyebrow. “Is that what you want? Someone who’snicein bed? Because I can be gentle next time, if you want.”
She twisted and giggled up at me. “Don’t youdarechange a thing.”
I bent down and kissed her. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
We relaxed together for a while, and then eventually she got up to use the bathroom. When she was done, I did the same thing to clean myself off.
As I looked at myself in the mirror, I realized I was smiling. Agenuinesmile. I couldn’t remember the last time I had looked this way.
She’s right,I thought.I should have made a move on her a week ago.
Suddenly a siren pierced the air. It wasn’t very loud since I had dimmed the volume, and sounded more like someone’s nearby phone alarm going off than a station-wide siren, but it was enough to get my attention. And enough to wake the baby.
Anthony was crying in Clara’s arms as I rushed back out to the living room. For a brief second, I was distracted by howbeautifulshe looked. Cradling the baby protectively, she looked motherly and powerful. The caveman part of my brain was immediately attracted to the sight.
“A call at one in the morning?” she said while comforting the baby. “Hope it’s not serious.”
“We’ll see.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek in passing, patted Baby Anthony on the cheek, then ran toward the garage. Jordan and Taylor were only seconds behind me.
Adrenaline was a hell of a drug. Even with the heart-pounding excitement that I had just shared with Clara, it paled in comparison to throwing on my gear and preparing to head out on a call.
“Dispatch, this is Riverville station,” Jordan said into the radio as I drove the fire engine out of the garage. “What do we have?”
“Kitchen fire at one-three-niner Alston Street,” she replied. “They put it out with their kitchen fire extinguisher, but the neighbors still called it in.”
Taylor scoffed in the back cab. “Pete’s making midnight quesadillas again.”
I grimaced. This wasn’t the first call we’d gotten to that address, and it was always because Pete Delgado got hungry in the middle of the night, started cooking food, and then fell asleep again.
As I drove to the scene, I thought about Clara, and what we had done together. I hadn’t realized how much Ineededthat. I felt clear-headed for the first time since I could remember.
“You okay, Chief?” Jordan asked me.
I realized he was staring at me. “Why?”
“You look… happy.”
“Me being happy worries you?”
“A little, yeah,” he replied.
I tried to act casual, but I couldn’t keep that same smile from sliding onto my face. And of course, trying to suppress it only made it more obvious.
“Wait a minute. Did what I think happen finally happen?” he asked.
I pulled up in front of the Delgado residence, which was trailing faint smoke from the left side. “Maybe.”
“What happened? What’d I miss?” Taylor demanded.