Moving Forward, page 15
When he arrived, he spied Jen helping a pair of guys in their early twenties. Though he was tempted to walk right over and pull her into his arms, he knew Jen wouldn’t be pleased about that one bit.
Instead, he simply kept watch, as inconspicuously as possible, hoping that he looked unconcerned.
“You look like a concerned boyfriend,” said Kristen, Jen’s boss. “Is she having a problem?”
“No. I was, um, just watching.” Great, I sound like a stalker.
Putting down the plant she’d been holding, Kristen watched Jen for a moment as well. “Those guys don’t look like they’re bothering her any.”
“Yeah.”
“Still, I’m impressed you haven’t gone over there.”
“I’m not going to interfere with her doing her job. Plus, she’d kill me if I marched over there like—” He caught himself just in time. It wouldn’t be fair to say he was Jen’s boyfriend. At least, not before he made sure she was good with that.
She chuckled. “Yeah, I think she probably would get upset if you got in her business. Jen’s pretty independent.” Folding her arms over her chest, Kristen continued to watch. “She’s holding her own anyway.”
“I know.” He tried to think about that in a positive way—when she glanced up and obviously noticed both him and her boss watching her.
She said something to the two guys and headed their way. A line had formed between her eyebrows. “Hi,” she said. “Is everything all right?”
“Totally. I only came over to say hello to Ryan,” Kristen said.
Jen turned her gaze to his. “I didn’t know you were coming by today.”
“I know. I had some time to kill before an appointment, so I thought I’d say hi. But you looked pretty busy, and I didn’t want to bother you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Those guys were asking about organic weed killer. I showed them what we have but they were pretty clueless.”
“Yeah.” Or they were just acting clueless as an excuse to keep talking to her.
Kristen made a big deal out of checking her watch. “You know, Jen, it’s pretty quiet right now. Why don’t you take a fifteen-minute break?”
“You don’t mind?”
“Not at all. But take off your apron if you’re going to stay here, okay? I don’t want anyone to think you’re ignoring them.”
“Thanks, Kristen.” Jen untied her apron and pulled it over her head.
The top strap got caught on her ponytail. Unable to help himself, Ryan reached over and freed it. Right away Jen’s cheeks flushed.
God, he loved that. He loved how she didn’t know how to hide what she was feeling. He loved not having to guess. “Here,” he said, handing her the canvas apron.
“Thanks.”
“Hey, want to go sit in my truck? I parked in the shade.”
“Sure.”
Before he knew what he was doing, Ryan reached for her hand, and she let him keep it nestled in his. Since they just happened to be walking by the guys who’d been flirting with her, he gave one of them a chin lift.
When they got in his truck, she grinned at him. “Okay, Ryan, what’s going on?”
“Nothing. It’s like I told you. I’ve got a meeting and had some time.”
“What meeting?”
The realization hit him hard. Yeah, he’d had some time to kill, but the real reason he’d come was that she was the only person he wanted to talk to about the tryout. Jen was so sweet and supportive. “The coach at CSU-Pueblo asked me to come talk to them today,” he said, and explained about the “conversation.” When she still looked confused, he told her about the second-string receiver position.
“What? Oh my gosh. That’s great!”
“It’s nothing yet.” He couldn’t help but grin, though. “But it’s really cool.”
“What did your parents say?”
“I haven’t told them. You’re the only person I’ve told.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? You didn’t even tell the guys?”
“No way. They’d all have something to say about it . . . right before one of them put it on social media. Besides, it’s just a tryout, not a done deal.”
“Well, I’m going to think good thoughts.”
“Thanks.” He reached for her hand again. “Sorry if I was glaring at those guys.”
“I don’t care, but Ryan, I don’t know why you would.”
“You know why, Jen.” He reached for her other hand and pulled her closer. “You know I like you.”
“Yeah, but what if you make the team?”
“What about it?”
“Well, wouldn’t you rather not have a girlfriend distracting you?” Her eyes widened. “Never mind. I didn’t mean that.”
“Jen, it’s not going to matter if I’m on the team or not. I’ll still like you.” Leaning close, he added, “A lot.”
When she smiled at him, he brushed his lips against hers. It wasn’t much of a kiss, but it was enough to send a zing of excitement through his blood.
“I better let you go.”
She reached for her door handle. “Will you call me later and let me know how it goes?”
“Yeah.” Realizing that she looked a little stressed out, he blurted, “Hey, Jen, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She pasted a smile on her lips. “I’m so excited for you.”
“Jen, come on. What’s wrong?”
She tucked her hair behind her ear and said, “There’s some stuff going on at home, but I’ll figure it out.”
“Sorry I didn’t ask you earlier.”
“Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Now, go break a leg or whatever they tell you to do before a tryout.” She smiled at him, hopped down, and walked back through the parking lot.
He watched her until she disappeared into the nursery, then pulled out of the parking lot. The GPS said he’d arrive twenty minutes early. Early enough to stretch and pull himself together.
And maybe even dream for a little bit about being on the team.
Chapter 20
Hey, hot stuff!” Samantha called out when Greg pulled into the parking lot at eight that morning.
Greg raised his eyebrows as he got out of his SUV and grabbed his tote bag. “Didn’t you give me enough grief last night, Cat?”
She shut the door of her Jeep and tossed her bag over her shoulder. “Let’s see . . . ah, nope.”
“You’re going to ride me all year about that stupid calendar, aren’t you?”
Her grin got even bigger. “Yep.”
“Great.” He started walking to the open bays, hoping he looked immune to her teasing. He doubted he was putting up a very good front, however. Inside, he was cringing. Not as much as he had the night before, but pretty darn close.
When Emory, Woodland Park’s marketing director, asked him to be part of the inaugural “Heroes of Woodland Park” calendar, he was flattered. He knew lots of charities sold calendars—this one would raise money for both the fire and police departments—but he didn’t give much thought to what the process would actually be like. On the day of his photo shoot, he’d brought both his dress uniform and his usual “uniform” of jeans and a WPFD navy polo. It turned out that the photographer had something completely different in mind. Next thing he knew, he was wearing a pair of WPFD shorts, baby oil, and nothing else.
Last night’s gala to celebrate the publication of the calendar was extremely awkward, with women of all ages hooting and hollering as he was unveiled as Mr. March. Of course, it wouldn’t have been so bad if the whole gang from the station house hadn’t been there to witness it.
There was no way he was going to let anyone know that he regretted taking the bait, though. If he even hinted that he wasn’t in on the joke, the whole firehouse would yuk it up even more. Instead of making them feel more sympathetic, the opposite would happen. He’d get grief not only for posing in the almost buff but for being embarrassed about it. And who could blame them? He would do the same thing to any one of them—even Sam.
“Why you wearing so many clothes today, Tebo?” one of the guys in the bay called out.
Greg put on his best cocky attitude. “I thought I’d spare you today, since come March you’re going to see me up on the wall in the kitchen all the time.”
“I ordered two calendars. You’re going to be hanging on my kitchen wall”—Sam winked—“and my parents’.”
“Glad to hear it.”
When they reached the open bays, Anderson and Mark were waiting. Anderson whistled low. “You look good in baby oil, buddy.”
“Shut up. How did you see the calendar?” They weren’t at the gala because they’d been on duty.
“The shindig was livestreamed,” said Mark.
What in the world? It took everything he had not to blush. “I didn’t know that.”
“You looked good in that suit, bro.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m just glad it’s over.”
“Seriously, you did a good job last night,” Anderson said. “Cap told me that the station got a big chunk of money in donations. Maybe even enough to finally purchase another tanker truck. We heard Jefferson County has two that are about to go on the market.”
“That’s great. I sure wish I hadn’t been the only one from this station, though. It would’ve been better if all of us were in the calendar.” He still didn’t understand why he’d been the one selected.
Anderson put up his hands. “Believe it or not, they asked me, but there was no way I was going to show off my scars like that. I’m all for charity, but that’s going above and beyond.”
“What do you mean?” He would’ve loved to have had one of his old army buddies up there beside him.
“My fiancée likes that she’s the only one to see me in all my glory,” Chip threw in.
“I told them modeling wasn’t my thing,” Mark said.
Greg’s head was spinning. “Wait, so I was only chosen because y’all said no?”
“But you did good,” Mark said.
“You looked good, too,” Sam added. Her eyes were sparkling.
Well, now he felt even more stupid. Why hadn’t he just said no like the rest of them? “I’m going to go put my stuff up.”
“Check in with Cap, too,” Mark called out.
“Will do.” He hustled inside, climbed the stairs to the lockers, and stowed his gear before heading back down to the captain’s office.
Captain DeWitt was sitting behind his desk staring at the computer when Greg tapped on his door. Looking relieved, he waved Greg in.
“Hey, Tebo.” He motioned for Greg to take a chair. “So, are you all recovered from last night?”
“Not necessary, sir. I didn’t drink.” He knew better than to start a shift hungover.
Captain DeWitt grinned. “I meant recovered from all the frisky women in the audience.”
At last Greg relaxed enough to laugh. “It wasn’t too bad. The ladies were complimentary.”
“I bet they were. Cara told me that she almost went to rescue you a couple of times.”
“Mrs. DeWitt is a good woman.”
Cap smiled again. “She is, at that.”
“I heard you wanted to see me?”
“Yep.” He shuffled through a couple of papers on his desk and pulled out an envelope. Placing it on his desk in front of Greg, he said, “This is for you. Emory gave it to me last night. It’s a gift certificate for a weekend at The Broadmoor for you and a guest.”
Greg stared at the cream-colored envelope with his name written in gold calligraphy. The Broadmoor in southern Colorado Springs was considered one of the best resorts in the whole country. He’d never been, but it was in all the magazines and papers at least once a month with news of the rich and beautiful people who vacationed there, hiking and relaxing at the spa in the winter and golfing in the summer. There was also a lake, a pool, a bunch of restaurants and bars . . . every bit of it with a hefty price tag. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s a thank-you from Woodland Park to the participants in the calendar.”
“I did it for charity. I don’t want a gift for doing my part.”
“Copy that, but take it anyway.”
It still felt wrong. “Sir, how about you and Cara go?”
“That’s nice of you to offer, but no.”
“Sir—”
“I understand your reluctance, Greg, but I think you should accept. The Broadmoor donated the gift certificates, so it’s not costing the city anything.”
Then he added, “The only catch is you have to go this month, which is only ten more days. Is there someone you could take?”
Of course he thought about Kristen, but he wasn’t sure if they were ready for that. Not after her big reveal at the end of their date. “Maybe. I’m not sure.”
Captain DeWitt brightened. “What about your mom?”
“My mom?” He was just about to shake his head . . . and then realized that Cap was right. “That’s perfect. My mother would love it.”
“She’s on her own, right?”
Greg nodded. “She is. She’s worked really hard all her life. Getting pampered at The Broadmoor would be really special for her.”
“Then I can’t think of a better person to take. Everyone’s got a ma they owe big. Take yours down to the Springs and do something nice for her.”
“You’re right. Thank you.”
Captain DeWitt shrugged it off. “We’ll do a check in ten minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” he said again as he walked out of the office. Deciding not to wait another minute, he went out into the hall, pulled out his cell phone, and gave his mom a call.
She answered on the first ring. “Greg?”
“Hey, Momma.”
“Hey back. Why are you calling?” Her voice thickened with worry. “Is everything okay? I thought you were back on duty this morning.”
“I’m good. Don’t worry so much. I called about something fun.”
“Really? What?”
After filling her in about the calendar and the party, he told her about the gift certificate for The Broadmoor. He wasn’t surprised that she’d heard of the hotel. “I want you to come with me, Mom,” he said at last.
“Me? Are you sure you don’t have anyone special you’d rather take?”
“You’re special!”
“Honey, you know what I mean.”
“I promise, you were the first person I thought of.” Okay, he would’ve gotten there sooner or later.
“Are you sure?” She sounded pleased but hesitant. “Maybe you want to take one of your sisters?”
“No way am I taking one of the girls and not another. Momma, just say yes.”
“Fine. Yes.” She giggled. “Thank you, Gregory.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll fill you in on all the details when I get back home in a couple of days.”
“Sounds good. I’m pleased as punch about this.”
“Me, too. You’re the perfect date. We’ll have a grand time.”
“That’s laying it on a little thick, dear.”
“Not really. You’re fun, easy to talk to, and we can have a good time together without worrying about the future.”
She chuckled. “One day you’re gonna fall head over heels for someone. I promise, you won’t be worrying about the future then, you’ll be looking forward to it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled when he hung up, thinking about Kristen. He wondered if she really was the one.
Knowing it would do no good to dwell on it at the moment, he joined the others for the captain’s quick overview of what had been happening, and then hustled back to the bays, ready to work.
“Where do you guys want me?”
Dave waved him over. “Could you give me a hand with this order? It’s taking forever since I’ve been double-checking each item in the supply closet and in the ambulance.”
“Will do.” Counting supplies sounded like a perfect activity to take his mind off everything else.
Of course, as soon as he walked into the supply closet, he was greeted by a two-foot-by-three-foot poster of himself. Someone had taken a red marker and put a heart on his bare chest, then wrote Mr. March across his groin. The whole thing was tacky and humiliating and funny as all get-out.
“Ah, man.”
Dave poked his head in. “Anderson and Mark put that up before they got off shift. What do you think, Tebo?”
“I think life-sized would have been even better,” he joked.
Laughter broke out—just as bells rang.
Everyone froze as the dispatcher called out codes. Realizing that it was an MVA, Greg headed for the door. “All of us, Cap?”
“Sam, it’s your turn to stay back. Probie Mick is here, too. Have him help with the laundry if you don’t need him for something else.”
“Roger that, Cap,” Sam said. Greg thought she looked a little bummed but agreeable. Greg got that. It was standard procedure to never leave the station empty in case someone stopped by in need of assistance.
“Greg and Dave, let’s go.”
“On it.”
Greg put on his turnout gear in sixty seconds, then climbed into the back of the truck with the captain just as Dave started the engine.
Five minutes later, they were heading down the highway. When they got to the scene, they found a vehicle on fire. A man was standing nearby, shouting that his wife was still inside the sedan. Two more vehicles were off to the side of the road, their drivers leaning against the guardrail.
Immediately the captain called out orders and Greg went to work, pulling hoses and spraying the vehicle with flame-retardant foam. As he did this, he was vaguely aware of Captain DeWitt attempting to calm the man down while he checked for injuries.
The fire was extinguished easily, but Greg wasn’t sure if they’d made it in time to save the woman trapped inside.
Instead, he simply kept watch, as inconspicuously as possible, hoping that he looked unconcerned.
“You look like a concerned boyfriend,” said Kristen, Jen’s boss. “Is she having a problem?”
“No. I was, um, just watching.” Great, I sound like a stalker.
Putting down the plant she’d been holding, Kristen watched Jen for a moment as well. “Those guys don’t look like they’re bothering her any.”
“Yeah.”
“Still, I’m impressed you haven’t gone over there.”
“I’m not going to interfere with her doing her job. Plus, she’d kill me if I marched over there like—” He caught himself just in time. It wouldn’t be fair to say he was Jen’s boyfriend. At least, not before he made sure she was good with that.
She chuckled. “Yeah, I think she probably would get upset if you got in her business. Jen’s pretty independent.” Folding her arms over her chest, Kristen continued to watch. “She’s holding her own anyway.”
“I know.” He tried to think about that in a positive way—when she glanced up and obviously noticed both him and her boss watching her.
She said something to the two guys and headed their way. A line had formed between her eyebrows. “Hi,” she said. “Is everything all right?”
“Totally. I only came over to say hello to Ryan,” Kristen said.
Jen turned her gaze to his. “I didn’t know you were coming by today.”
“I know. I had some time to kill before an appointment, so I thought I’d say hi. But you looked pretty busy, and I didn’t want to bother you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Those guys were asking about organic weed killer. I showed them what we have but they were pretty clueless.”
“Yeah.” Or they were just acting clueless as an excuse to keep talking to her.
Kristen made a big deal out of checking her watch. “You know, Jen, it’s pretty quiet right now. Why don’t you take a fifteen-minute break?”
“You don’t mind?”
“Not at all. But take off your apron if you’re going to stay here, okay? I don’t want anyone to think you’re ignoring them.”
“Thanks, Kristen.” Jen untied her apron and pulled it over her head.
The top strap got caught on her ponytail. Unable to help himself, Ryan reached over and freed it. Right away Jen’s cheeks flushed.
God, he loved that. He loved how she didn’t know how to hide what she was feeling. He loved not having to guess. “Here,” he said, handing her the canvas apron.
“Thanks.”
“Hey, want to go sit in my truck? I parked in the shade.”
“Sure.”
Before he knew what he was doing, Ryan reached for her hand, and she let him keep it nestled in his. Since they just happened to be walking by the guys who’d been flirting with her, he gave one of them a chin lift.
When they got in his truck, she grinned at him. “Okay, Ryan, what’s going on?”
“Nothing. It’s like I told you. I’ve got a meeting and had some time.”
“What meeting?”
The realization hit him hard. Yeah, he’d had some time to kill, but the real reason he’d come was that she was the only person he wanted to talk to about the tryout. Jen was so sweet and supportive. “The coach at CSU-Pueblo asked me to come talk to them today,” he said, and explained about the “conversation.” When she still looked confused, he told her about the second-string receiver position.
“What? Oh my gosh. That’s great!”
“It’s nothing yet.” He couldn’t help but grin, though. “But it’s really cool.”
“What did your parents say?”
“I haven’t told them. You’re the only person I’ve told.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? You didn’t even tell the guys?”
“No way. They’d all have something to say about it . . . right before one of them put it on social media. Besides, it’s just a tryout, not a done deal.”
“Well, I’m going to think good thoughts.”
“Thanks.” He reached for her hand again. “Sorry if I was glaring at those guys.”
“I don’t care, but Ryan, I don’t know why you would.”
“You know why, Jen.” He reached for her other hand and pulled her closer. “You know I like you.”
“Yeah, but what if you make the team?”
“What about it?”
“Well, wouldn’t you rather not have a girlfriend distracting you?” Her eyes widened. “Never mind. I didn’t mean that.”
“Jen, it’s not going to matter if I’m on the team or not. I’ll still like you.” Leaning close, he added, “A lot.”
When she smiled at him, he brushed his lips against hers. It wasn’t much of a kiss, but it was enough to send a zing of excitement through his blood.
“I better let you go.”
She reached for her door handle. “Will you call me later and let me know how it goes?”
“Yeah.” Realizing that she looked a little stressed out, he blurted, “Hey, Jen, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She pasted a smile on her lips. “I’m so excited for you.”
“Jen, come on. What’s wrong?”
She tucked her hair behind her ear and said, “There’s some stuff going on at home, but I’ll figure it out.”
“Sorry I didn’t ask you earlier.”
“Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Now, go break a leg or whatever they tell you to do before a tryout.” She smiled at him, hopped down, and walked back through the parking lot.
He watched her until she disappeared into the nursery, then pulled out of the parking lot. The GPS said he’d arrive twenty minutes early. Early enough to stretch and pull himself together.
And maybe even dream for a little bit about being on the team.
Chapter 20
Hey, hot stuff!” Samantha called out when Greg pulled into the parking lot at eight that morning.
Greg raised his eyebrows as he got out of his SUV and grabbed his tote bag. “Didn’t you give me enough grief last night, Cat?”
She shut the door of her Jeep and tossed her bag over her shoulder. “Let’s see . . . ah, nope.”
“You’re going to ride me all year about that stupid calendar, aren’t you?”
Her grin got even bigger. “Yep.”
“Great.” He started walking to the open bays, hoping he looked immune to her teasing. He doubted he was putting up a very good front, however. Inside, he was cringing. Not as much as he had the night before, but pretty darn close.
When Emory, Woodland Park’s marketing director, asked him to be part of the inaugural “Heroes of Woodland Park” calendar, he was flattered. He knew lots of charities sold calendars—this one would raise money for both the fire and police departments—but he didn’t give much thought to what the process would actually be like. On the day of his photo shoot, he’d brought both his dress uniform and his usual “uniform” of jeans and a WPFD navy polo. It turned out that the photographer had something completely different in mind. Next thing he knew, he was wearing a pair of WPFD shorts, baby oil, and nothing else.
Last night’s gala to celebrate the publication of the calendar was extremely awkward, with women of all ages hooting and hollering as he was unveiled as Mr. March. Of course, it wouldn’t have been so bad if the whole gang from the station house hadn’t been there to witness it.
There was no way he was going to let anyone know that he regretted taking the bait, though. If he even hinted that he wasn’t in on the joke, the whole firehouse would yuk it up even more. Instead of making them feel more sympathetic, the opposite would happen. He’d get grief not only for posing in the almost buff but for being embarrassed about it. And who could blame them? He would do the same thing to any one of them—even Sam.
“Why you wearing so many clothes today, Tebo?” one of the guys in the bay called out.
Greg put on his best cocky attitude. “I thought I’d spare you today, since come March you’re going to see me up on the wall in the kitchen all the time.”
“I ordered two calendars. You’re going to be hanging on my kitchen wall”—Sam winked—“and my parents’.”
“Glad to hear it.”
When they reached the open bays, Anderson and Mark were waiting. Anderson whistled low. “You look good in baby oil, buddy.”
“Shut up. How did you see the calendar?” They weren’t at the gala because they’d been on duty.
“The shindig was livestreamed,” said Mark.
What in the world? It took everything he had not to blush. “I didn’t know that.”
“You looked good in that suit, bro.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m just glad it’s over.”
“Seriously, you did a good job last night,” Anderson said. “Cap told me that the station got a big chunk of money in donations. Maybe even enough to finally purchase another tanker truck. We heard Jefferson County has two that are about to go on the market.”
“That’s great. I sure wish I hadn’t been the only one from this station, though. It would’ve been better if all of us were in the calendar.” He still didn’t understand why he’d been the one selected.
Anderson put up his hands. “Believe it or not, they asked me, but there was no way I was going to show off my scars like that. I’m all for charity, but that’s going above and beyond.”
“What do you mean?” He would’ve loved to have had one of his old army buddies up there beside him.
“My fiancée likes that she’s the only one to see me in all my glory,” Chip threw in.
“I told them modeling wasn’t my thing,” Mark said.
Greg’s head was spinning. “Wait, so I was only chosen because y’all said no?”
“But you did good,” Mark said.
“You looked good, too,” Sam added. Her eyes were sparkling.
Well, now he felt even more stupid. Why hadn’t he just said no like the rest of them? “I’m going to go put my stuff up.”
“Check in with Cap, too,” Mark called out.
“Will do.” He hustled inside, climbed the stairs to the lockers, and stowed his gear before heading back down to the captain’s office.
Captain DeWitt was sitting behind his desk staring at the computer when Greg tapped on his door. Looking relieved, he waved Greg in.
“Hey, Tebo.” He motioned for Greg to take a chair. “So, are you all recovered from last night?”
“Not necessary, sir. I didn’t drink.” He knew better than to start a shift hungover.
Captain DeWitt grinned. “I meant recovered from all the frisky women in the audience.”
At last Greg relaxed enough to laugh. “It wasn’t too bad. The ladies were complimentary.”
“I bet they were. Cara told me that she almost went to rescue you a couple of times.”
“Mrs. DeWitt is a good woman.”
Cap smiled again. “She is, at that.”
“I heard you wanted to see me?”
“Yep.” He shuffled through a couple of papers on his desk and pulled out an envelope. Placing it on his desk in front of Greg, he said, “This is for you. Emory gave it to me last night. It’s a gift certificate for a weekend at The Broadmoor for you and a guest.”
Greg stared at the cream-colored envelope with his name written in gold calligraphy. The Broadmoor in southern Colorado Springs was considered one of the best resorts in the whole country. He’d never been, but it was in all the magazines and papers at least once a month with news of the rich and beautiful people who vacationed there, hiking and relaxing at the spa in the winter and golfing in the summer. There was also a lake, a pool, a bunch of restaurants and bars . . . every bit of it with a hefty price tag. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s a thank-you from Woodland Park to the participants in the calendar.”
“I did it for charity. I don’t want a gift for doing my part.”
“Copy that, but take it anyway.”
It still felt wrong. “Sir, how about you and Cara go?”
“That’s nice of you to offer, but no.”
“Sir—”
“I understand your reluctance, Greg, but I think you should accept. The Broadmoor donated the gift certificates, so it’s not costing the city anything.”
Then he added, “The only catch is you have to go this month, which is only ten more days. Is there someone you could take?”
Of course he thought about Kristen, but he wasn’t sure if they were ready for that. Not after her big reveal at the end of their date. “Maybe. I’m not sure.”
Captain DeWitt brightened. “What about your mom?”
“My mom?” He was just about to shake his head . . . and then realized that Cap was right. “That’s perfect. My mother would love it.”
“She’s on her own, right?”
Greg nodded. “She is. She’s worked really hard all her life. Getting pampered at The Broadmoor would be really special for her.”
“Then I can’t think of a better person to take. Everyone’s got a ma they owe big. Take yours down to the Springs and do something nice for her.”
“You’re right. Thank you.”
Captain DeWitt shrugged it off. “We’ll do a check in ten minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” he said again as he walked out of the office. Deciding not to wait another minute, he went out into the hall, pulled out his cell phone, and gave his mom a call.
She answered on the first ring. “Greg?”
“Hey, Momma.”
“Hey back. Why are you calling?” Her voice thickened with worry. “Is everything okay? I thought you were back on duty this morning.”
“I’m good. Don’t worry so much. I called about something fun.”
“Really? What?”
After filling her in about the calendar and the party, he told her about the gift certificate for The Broadmoor. He wasn’t surprised that she’d heard of the hotel. “I want you to come with me, Mom,” he said at last.
“Me? Are you sure you don’t have anyone special you’d rather take?”
“You’re special!”
“Honey, you know what I mean.”
“I promise, you were the first person I thought of.” Okay, he would’ve gotten there sooner or later.
“Are you sure?” She sounded pleased but hesitant. “Maybe you want to take one of your sisters?”
“No way am I taking one of the girls and not another. Momma, just say yes.”
“Fine. Yes.” She giggled. “Thank you, Gregory.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll fill you in on all the details when I get back home in a couple of days.”
“Sounds good. I’m pleased as punch about this.”
“Me, too. You’re the perfect date. We’ll have a grand time.”
“That’s laying it on a little thick, dear.”
“Not really. You’re fun, easy to talk to, and we can have a good time together without worrying about the future.”
She chuckled. “One day you’re gonna fall head over heels for someone. I promise, you won’t be worrying about the future then, you’ll be looking forward to it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled when he hung up, thinking about Kristen. He wondered if she really was the one.
Knowing it would do no good to dwell on it at the moment, he joined the others for the captain’s quick overview of what had been happening, and then hustled back to the bays, ready to work.
“Where do you guys want me?”
Dave waved him over. “Could you give me a hand with this order? It’s taking forever since I’ve been double-checking each item in the supply closet and in the ambulance.”
“Will do.” Counting supplies sounded like a perfect activity to take his mind off everything else.
Of course, as soon as he walked into the supply closet, he was greeted by a two-foot-by-three-foot poster of himself. Someone had taken a red marker and put a heart on his bare chest, then wrote Mr. March across his groin. The whole thing was tacky and humiliating and funny as all get-out.
“Ah, man.”
Dave poked his head in. “Anderson and Mark put that up before they got off shift. What do you think, Tebo?”
“I think life-sized would have been even better,” he joked.
Laughter broke out—just as bells rang.
Everyone froze as the dispatcher called out codes. Realizing that it was an MVA, Greg headed for the door. “All of us, Cap?”
“Sam, it’s your turn to stay back. Probie Mick is here, too. Have him help with the laundry if you don’t need him for something else.”
“Roger that, Cap,” Sam said. Greg thought she looked a little bummed but agreeable. Greg got that. It was standard procedure to never leave the station empty in case someone stopped by in need of assistance.
“Greg and Dave, let’s go.”
“On it.”
Greg put on his turnout gear in sixty seconds, then climbed into the back of the truck with the captain just as Dave started the engine.
Five minutes later, they were heading down the highway. When they got to the scene, they found a vehicle on fire. A man was standing nearby, shouting that his wife was still inside the sedan. Two more vehicles were off to the side of the road, their drivers leaning against the guardrail.
Immediately the captain called out orders and Greg went to work, pulling hoses and spraying the vehicle with flame-retardant foam. As he did this, he was vaguely aware of Captain DeWitt attempting to calm the man down while he checked for injuries.
The fire was extinguished easily, but Greg wasn’t sure if they’d made it in time to save the woman trapped inside.
