Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
JESSE
I got to the station, stowing my bag in my locker and heading to the kitchen. The guys were sitting around, drinking coffee. A container sat in the middle of the table, nothing but crumbs in the bottom. I poured a coffee and sat down, indicating the container.
“What did I miss?” I asked, hoping it was from one of the wives whose cookies I wasn’t fond of.
“Chocolate chip cookies. Best I’ve ever tasted,” Mark replied. “You missed out on a massive treat.”
“Thanks for saving me one.”
He shook his head. “Couldn’t. The instructions were very clear. Enjoy, but Thorne doesn’t get one.”
I frowned. “Who would say…” I trailed off. “Dammit. Casey was here?”
She’d come and brought cookies to the station, making sure I got none. That was worse than taking them to Cal. Way worse.
Mark grinned. “You’ve pissed her off good.”
I looked down the table to Jackson, who still had half a cookie in his hand. I held out my hand, palm up. “Please.”
He looked at me, then his cookie.
“I’ll owe you,” I begged. The cookie was golden and thick. Bursting with chocolate chips. I could almost taste the butter and sugar.
He frowned, then shook his head. “No can do. She promised other rewards.” Then he shoved the cookie into his mouth.
I stood, shaking my head. “You all suck. One cookie. You could have saved me one cookie. She wouldn’t have to know.”
Mark laughed. “And risk losing another batch of these babies? No way.”
I stomped off and headed to the garage. I suddenly had a lot of pent-up anger I needed to blow off. Grabbing the buckets, I added some soap. Time to wash the trucks.
The rest of the day went as usual. We had some calls.
Did some training. Made dinner. Played cards.
Being a little town and a small crew, things were different here than a big city.
Some shifts, we slept through entire nights without a call.
Others, we were constantly busy, only finding time for power naps in the day to keep our energy up.
The next morning, Mark and I made an appearance at the local school, talking about fire safety.
I always enjoyed those interactions with the kids.
Answering their sometimes-funny questions.
They listened closely, always anxious to talk and query what we said.
They loved being able to put on a helmet and when we let them wear our jackets for a moment.
Many of them marveled at how heavy the equipment was.
One little girl named Candy looked up at me with her huge blue eyes and informed me she was going to be a firefighter like her aunt Winnie.
I grinned because I knew who Winnie was.
I had worked with her, and she was a dedicated, respected firefighter, leading a station in Mississauga.
“You follow your dreams, Candy,” I encouraged.
Back at the station, I stowed my gear and headed down for lunch. The guys got up from the table, and I spied another empty container in the middle. A metal one. I reached over and pulled it toward me.
A few scraps of noodles and baked cheese clung to the edge.
“Who made lasagna?” I asked. “And why is there none left?”
Mark strolled by, scraping his dish. “I got the last piece. Incredible.” He grinned. “Casey cooks as well as she bakes.”
“Casey brought this?” I grunted in disbelief. “Let me guess. None for me.”
The guys all laughed.
Dammit, she knew my weak spot. She was feeding my station brothers but cutting me out.
I turned to the fridge and grabbed the stuff for a sandwich, only getting in one bite as an alarm went off. I wolfed down the rest of it as we rushed to the truck, pulling on our uniforms and climbing on board.
I sat in the rig, stewing. She was far better at this game than I was.
I wondered what she had up her sleeve next.
The following day, freshly showered, I headed to the break room.
It had been a busy night, emergencies one after another, so I’d gotten little sleep.
Some of the guys were napping, but I wanted to stay awake.
My three-day shift ended later today, and I wanted to adjust to a regular sleeping schedule.
I stopped to get some coffee, looking around hopefully. No new food items had appeared from Casey, so she must be waiting until I got home for her next move. I wondered if I would find the house covered in wind chimes or a girly wreath on my front door. No doubt she’d come up with something clever.
I had my answer a few moments later.
I did a double take as I crossed the station floor to the break room we shared with the police and paramedics.
We often pooled meals as well, finding one another’s stories amusing and company affable.
On occasion, we had cook-offs, cops or paramedics competing against firefighters.
The cops usually won, thanks to their secret weapons—two retired chefs who worked in the station.
Casey was standing at the intake desk, speaking with Martha, who was shaking her head and looking concerned.
My heart rate sped up in worry.
Why was Casey here? Was she okay?
Did something happen?
What was she talking to the police for?
I set down my coffee, hurrying over.
“Casey,” I called out. “Everything okay?”
She turned and my breath caught. I’d somehow forgotten how pretty she was.
Dressed casually in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, she was effortlessly sexy.
Her hair hung down her back, almost touching her ass, glossy and rich under the bright lights.
She had on her usual Doc Martens, and her lips were shiny with gloss.
I had a strange urge to lean down and kiss it off when I got close.
I resisted since she was my tenant. That was all.
And I was surrounded by coworkers and the police.
“What’s happened?” I demanded. “Everything okay at the house?”
Martha spoke. “Some vandalism has occurred.”
“What?” I asked, shocked. I had never had a single incident in the time I’d lived there.
Casey faced me. “I was robbed.”
“Robbed?” I repeated. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I think someone in the neighborhood hates my decorations. My wind chimes keep disappearing. I put them up, and poof, they’re gone.”
Martha shook her head. “Damn kids.”
“I was just dropping off some treats, and I thought I’d ask Martha if anyone else had reported missing, ah, decorations.”
I gaped at her, then looked at Martha, who was watching me closely.
Dammit, this girl was good.
I cleared my throat. “Well, no need to involve the police, Casey. As your landlord, I’ll look into it. I’m sure it was just someone pulling a joke.” I had to swallow, trying not to laugh. “I mean, who takes people’s wind chimes? Just a prank.”
“I hope so,” she murmured. “I hate to think there is some sicko out there and what they’re doing with my wind chimes.”
“Not getting any cookies, that’s for sure,” I griped.
“What?” Martha said, looking amused.
“Nothing.”
The police chief walked out with my chief, looking our way and coming over.
“Shit,” I muttered as Fleming and Arnold stopped beside Martha.
“Problem, Thorne?” Chief Fleming asked, looking between our little trio.
I stepped closer to Casey, reaching for her hand and squeezing it.
“You win,” I said as quietly as possible.
Casey smiled brightly and shook her head. “No. I was just catching up with Martha. I hadn’t seen her in a long time.” She laughed lightly. “And Mr. Thorne is my landlord. He saw me and was worried something might be amiss. He is so conscientious.”
Chief Fleming nodded. “Not surprised. Thorne is one of the most highly respected firefighters on staff.”
“Is that so?” Casey asked.
He indicated the wall to his right, closest to the fire station part of the building. “Lots of commendations. He’s saved many people. Animals. Voted most hardworking volunteer at the food kitchen and the local Habitat for Humanity. Twice.”
Chief Arnold grunted in approval. “Good man. Always proud to work with the fire department and their great men and women. And happy to meet you, Miss…ah?”
“Oh, Casey Lawson.”
“Lawson,” Arnold muttered. “I knew a Lawson years ago. Lived here for a short time with her daughter.” He looked between us. “Related to Lou somehow?”
“Yes,” Casey acknowledged, a catch in her voice.
“Casey is living in Lou’s place now,” I explained.
Chief Arnold extended his hand. “Any relation of Lou is a friend. Welcome.”
Casey shook his hand, then my chief did the same. “You’re the one who sent in the cookies and the lasagna?” Fleming asked.
Casey met my eyes, grinning. “That’s me.”
Fleming clapped my shoulder. “Keep this one happy, Jesse. Those were the best cookies I ever tasted.” He chuckled as he walked away. “Not that you’d know.”
I groaned. Even my chief got a cookie. I looked at Casey out of the corner of my eye.
“No problem, Chief. Casey here tells me she saved me some for when I got home,” I called, turning to her. “Right?”
She hummed in agreement. “Once we recover my wind chimes.”
She turned to Martha. “It was great to see you.” She glanced my way. “See you around, Thorne.”
“You know it.”
She walked away, and I met Martha’s gaze. She was watching me knowingly.
“What?”
“I don’t know what is up with you, but give those wind chimes back to the girl or I’ll file a report myself.”
“What makes you think I have the wind chimes?”
She laughed. “The food she sent, for one thing. The pile of sparkly things on the front floor of your truck for the other.” She shook her head. “You don’t pull a fast one on Pixie. She was trained by the best.”
Pixie. The little girl Lou talked about so much.
I stared at her. “ That’s Pixie ?”
Martha nodded. “Lou used to bring her around all the time. Cute little thing, so tiny and sweet. She got the name Pixie right here in this station. Always laughing and happy with Lou. It’s a shame her mother left.
Lou missed that little girl something fierce.
” She eyeballed me. “And whatever is going on between the two of you needs to be resolved.”
“What are you talking about?”