The Fireman I Loved to Hate by Jenna Gunn

Chapter 13

I do not want to get out of my bed. I earned sleeping in after last night. I followed the ambulance to the hospital, and when we found out they weren’t letting Mr. Jimmy out last night, I drove her back to get her car. I have more than earned an extra hour of sleep.

But then my phone buzzes to life. Monroe meows at it, so I reach over and look. A saccharine email, in the cloying tone he uses when he’s annoyed. I missed the meeting. I text him an apology, telling him what happened last night. He calls, “Is everyone alright? That’s awful.”

I am too grumpy for actual words. “Everyone will be okay. Smoke inhalation. Need sleep, Harold.”

“Yeah, you do. You sound like hell.”

“Thank you. Goodnight.” But I can’t sleep. Smoke is still heavy when I open the window-must be the humidity, making it hang in the air. I quickly shut it. I cannot handle that smell much longer. I had taken three showers to get it out of my hair and off my skin when I came home last night. I even undressed in the laundry room to keep it from permeating the rest of the house. I did everything I could to keep my house from wreaking of smoke, so why is something bugging me?

Alex. At eight.

And it’s 11:30. Oh, hell. Has he already come and gone? Suddenly, I find my feet and my adrenaline spikes. I need to shower one more time before he gets here. I race around my house, much to the annoyance of the cats. I yank open drawers and shuffle through them to find just the right outfit, curse my lack of style and my ability to pay attention to that damn magazine in Trisha’s office, then jump into the shower. I’m sopping wet by the time I hear the doorbell. Of course.

I shout, “Just a minute,” knowing full well that he cannot hear me. A towel on my hair and my robe are all I’m wearing. On my way to the door, the cats follow closely behind and are meowing for breakfast. I’m an absolute disaster by the time I get there.

And Alex looks perfect. White button-down, rolled up his forearms. Jeans. Guys have it so damned easy. He glances where my robe fell open, before he makes eye contact. I clutch it shut and tell him, “Come in.”

“I brought breakfast,” he says cheerfully, and holds up pink and white boxes bound by colorful string. He moves past me, and I dart to shut the door and keep the cats inside. He says, “I know we said eight, but I needed to sleep in, and I thought you might need the same, and I still don’t have your phone number, so I hope this is okay.”

I catch a whiff of nervous energy off that ramble. He sets the boxes on my dining room table and waits for my response, but I’m still surprised that the confident rescuer of my dear friend can be nervous. “Um, thank you, I needed sleep too, you’re right. And thanks for breakfast.”

“How are Mr. and Mrs. Logan?” he asks.

“Mr. Jimmy is still in the hospital, but last night, the doctors were saying he could probably go home before the end of the week, maybe sooner.” I walk past my furry beggars and grab their food containers. “I think Lynn is looking for a hotel.”

Carmen pauses on her way to her food bowl, her tail swishing as she looks at Alex. A kitty greeting. But she’s too distracted by her food to stop by.

“Oh my god,” he says. His smile is so wide that his dark eyes crinkle. “She’s gotten so big!” He crouches, and Carmen gives up on her food to see him. Alex scoops her up and holds her to him. I set Monroe’s food bowl down and look at this big, burly man cradle a kitten. He scratches her tummy and lets her bat at his hand, then she gnaws on his knuckle while he giggles. “One of her eyes looks brown,” he says, with concern. “Is that normal? Is she okay?”

I nodded and smile. I take the towel off my hair. It’s not like he hasn’t seen me be a mess before. Screw it. “Yeah, that’s totally normal. She’s probably going to be heterochromatic. Different colored eyes. Happens all the time.”

“That doesn’t mean there’s any underlying problem for her, right? Like, it’s normal for cats?” He sets her down, and she dashes for her food bowl.

“It’s more common in cats than people. And it’s not tied to any other genetic problems. Carmen will be just fine,” I reassure him.

The boxes Alex delivered have black writing on them. “Sweet Thing.” I pull a chair out and sit down. “So, is that the name of the bakery?”

“Yeah,” he flips open one of the lids and shows the treasure inside. They are danishes with different fillings. “It’s a bakery in Charleston. My twin sister’s bakery. She’s amazing. You’ll love it. Try one.”

“You have a twin sister?” I’m surprised he’s opening up finally. He had never mentioned her before. But our interactions haven’t been based on conversation until this point. I grab a napkin and pick out what looks like a cherry-filled danish.

“Her name is Alyssa,” he says as he takes a plain. He opens the next box, which is filled with gorgeous donuts.

In fact, my cherry danish looks like a magazine’s featured recipe. “She made this? Like, from scratch?”

He nods proudly and takes an enormous bite out of his danish. I try my own and it tastes as good as it looks. No, it tastes better than that. I look up at him and my reaction must be all over my face. “It’s the shit, right?”

“Oh my god, is she six hundred pounds?”

He laughs. “You should try one when they’re hot and fresh. She is the best baker in all of South Carolina. Maybe the whole country.”

He’s being far too cute right now and I realize he drove all the way to Charleston this morning. That’s a forty-five minute drive in each direction. And he really means everything he’s saying about his sister. He keeps gushing about her, while he finishes his pastry, admiration plain on his face. And it’s precious.

“So, what’s your twin like?” I wonder.

“Alyssa is the best,” he replies enthusiastically. “She’s married to this tycoon, who you would think would be a jerk, but actually he’s pretty great, too. He’s taken me on his sailboat for fishing and he’s elbow deep in fish guts with everyone else, not like you’re on a yacht with a staff and all that nonsense. They have an adorable daughter, Clara, oh hey, Carmen!” He is distracted by her cuteness and my kitchen has never been so alive.

Carmen sits and looks at Alex for a moment, her tail swishes, her pink nose twitches. After a few seconds of the stand-off, she tries to jump up to his lap and fails. The poor thing isn’t strong enough for such a big leap. She topples over but gets to her feet fast.

Alex laughs and picks her up while she meows at him. Once on his lap, she settles down and purrs, happier than I have ever seen her. He fawns over her, “She really has gotten so big. Thank you for taking her in.”

I nod. “She’s very healthy, according to the vet. She’s had her shots and deworming, and I’ll get her spayed as soon as I can.”

“Don’t want to be a grandma?”

I laugh at the thought. “Not just yet.”

He nods and pets her some more, his attention divided between us.

“So,” I clear my throat to ask, “why did you go all the way to Charleston this morning? Aside from the pastries, which are, in fact, life-changing.”

“Just the pastries. I wanted you to have a real breakfast after all the chaos last night, and Alyssa’s are the best breakfast I could think of.”

I take another bite and realize how close I am to finishing it. Has he changed since I met him, or was he always this way, and I just assumed he was someone else? Sitting across from him as he’s petting a sleeping kitten and gushing about his twin, driving all that way for pastries for me, when he’s the guy who saved my friend…it’s almost…

Noble? Valiant?

Alex asks, “Do you have any family in the area?”

It’s always a hard question to answer, no matter where I live. Should I tell him the ugly truth, or gloss over it? It’s still something I don’t want to talk about. I look at Monroe, finishing up his breakfast. “Just the cats. I’m an only child. And my parents passed away a few years ago.”

He quietly says, “I’m so sorry, Raina.”

I can’t look at his face. He’ll see my pain and that will make me cry. Trisha is always on me to talk about it, though. Maybe… “Mom got cancer. Beat it. Then got it again. Dad…he got sick right after. Being an only child…it’s just me these days.”

Alex doesn’t say anything. I know he has to be uncomfortable. No one likes to talk about death. But he doesn’t try to shut me up with some aphorism or trite phrase about the universe’s plan. He just lets me speak.

“Mom and Dad didn’t come from big families, either. The few relatives they had already moved up north or out west.” My Southern accent is ringing loud and clear the more emotional I feel. “They had friends around, but I was never close to them. I moved here from Mount Pleasant when I finished selling their house. My grief was too much for my boyfriend Spencer at the time, and he broke up with me after their deaths. I needed a change. A big one.”

Alex had given me the big eyes when I said the part about my boyfriend. I knew he had things to say, his mind ran wild as evidenced by his expression. But still, he remained silent.

I laugh a little. It sounds strange to my ears, like it’s inappropriate or out of place. I shouldn’t have a laugh thinking about the worst year of my life, but after feeling every other emotion, it seems I’m left with black humor. “He’s a shrink, too.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but your psychiatrist boyfriend dumped you for grieving your parents?”

I nod.

“Spencer is an asshole.”

I giggle. “To put it succinctly.”

He shakes his head in disgust. “So, what made you come to Rockville?”

“Threw a dart at the map.”

He laughs. “No kidding?”

“I lucked out, since my best friend is only an hour away. She’s also our vet. And since I moved here, the Logans have been the only people I know, but they’re great, so I consider myself very lucky.”

“And me,” he adds.

His dark eyes are wide and earnest. He wants to be on my friends list.

“And you,” I say with a smile.

-