Chapter 33
Thirty-Three
Louise
What does one wear to a chili cook-off fundraiser at a fire station?
My bedroom looks like my closet and dresser threw up.
Clothes litter my bed, the chair in the corner, and the floor, and I’m no closer to choosing an outfit than I was an hour ago.
Nothing fits right. Nothing says ‘I’m the kind-of-not-quite-girlfriend of the still married, not-yet-divorced assistant chief of the local fire department’.
Fuck my life.
Is this a bad idea?
Meeting his family was one thing. In a closed environment. Away from public scrutiny and judgmental eyes.
This… this is in public. Like, people will see us. Together.
My family doesn’t even know about him, yet. Not really, anyway. Not that we’ve taken things to the next level.
Whatever that is.
Willow is… cautiously optimistic. She still thinks I should re-commit to my no-man hiatus, but says as long as I’m taking things slow… she’s happy that I’m happy.
And I am happy.
Zach makes me happy.
Stupidly, incandescently happy.
It all feels a little too good to be true. Like I’m somehow still waiting for that other shoe to drop, waiting for the day that he disappears like all the rest. Just poof, gone.
But… I don’t see Zach doing that. He’s different. Steady. Intentional in everything that he does. He’s locked in. Just like I am.
Maybe it’s the age difference, I wonder, then laugh out loud. I’ve never dated a man this much older. My grumpy old man.
As far as mid-October weather goes in northern Michigan, today is mild. The sun is shining, but the temperature is just chilly enough to warrant a warm sweater. Eyeing my over-the-knee brown suede boots, I chew on my lip, then nod. I want Zach’s attention.
I’d purchased the viral fleece lined leggings that look like real skin tone beneath darker tights, so I pull those up over my legs first. Next, a black and floral-patterned mini skirt in a flowy cut, paired with a chunky knit, cropped sweater in a burnt orange that matches the flowers in the skirt.
The tall suede boots form to my calves and cut just above my knee, leaving six inches of ‘bare’ skin between the top of the boot and the hem of the skirt.
Blowing my hair out and curling it had taken over an hour, but Zach has never seen my hair down and actually styled—other than wet straight out of a shower—and I’m hoping to surprise him with something a little different, today.
Willow and Liv are meeting me there, and Liv is bringing her two kids, at Zach’s insistence.
Lydia has Zach’s girls this morning while he is at the station helping set up, and will be meeting us there, as well.
According to Zach, Chief Jensen has a soft spot for kids—something about wanting grandkids that he says he’ll never get from his daughter, Scarlett—and always makes sure there are kid friendly activities at all their functions and fundraisers.
Standing in front of the tall mirror hanging on the back of my bedroom door, I twist this way and that, making sure my flesh-toned leggings aren’t bunched at the back of my knees, and doublechecking that my skirt isn’t showing off my ass.
Running a hairbrush through my hair one more time, the curls soften and fall down to my waist in waves.
I throw a small, crossbody purse in a brown leather the same shade as my boots over my shoulder, touch up my mascara one more time, and then I’m out the door.
Finding parking along one of the nearby streets, I make the short walk toward the station, following the other foot traffic.
The street that runs in front of the fire department is blocked off with orange street barriers, stopping traffic from either direction.
There are firefighters standing at either entrance to the street, taking entry fees—ten dollars for unlimited chili, soda, and coffee, what a steal—and donations to the fire department.
One of the station's trucks is parked out on the road, the lights on, but no siren, the one-hundred-and-eight-foot ladder fully extended.
Multiple picnic tables are set up in the main driveway parking lot of the station, half full already with locals mingling.
Inside the large bay doors pushed open wide, there are more tables set up in a large U shape, but these are manned by chili cook-off contestants.
A few local restaurants and other long-time community supporters all vying for the golden firehose trophy and the bragging rights for the following year.
The table at the back side of the U is manned by the fire department itself, and I recognize Chief Jensen while he stands guard over the massive wrought iron cauldron that houses his prized chili.
Stepping inside the garage bay that’s been cleared of firetrucks for the event, I spot Lydia and the girls talking with Zach and Joel. Chloe is perched on top of Joel’s shoulders, her big, toothless grin wide.
“Lou!” she exclaims when she sees me, pointing at me over the heads of the sea of people between us. “She’s here!”
Zach’s eyes find mine as I make my way toward them, his going wide with appreciation. Heat tinges my cheeks at his avid perusal.
I think things shifted forward for us, after the other night with Abigail. We’re both so terrified the other person is going to disappear… but I think maybe he realizes I’m not going anywhere, either.
Zach is wearing the standard uniform today, navy blue cargo pants that fit his ass and thighs far too well and make my mouth water.
But instead of the usual navy-blue Petoskey Fire Department t-shirt, he has a matching quarter zip sweater on, the sleeves pushed up his forearms, showing off that floral tattoo.
The department logo is stitched onto the left side in red thread, and the zipper is pulled down low, showing the collar of a plain white t-shirt where his throat is exposed.
Looking around, I realize all of the crew members are wearing similar uniforms, some in long sleeve t-shirts, others in the same quarter zip sweaters.
Zach looks the best in his. But I might be biased.
Joel has on a navy-blue t-shirt, the sleeves fitted tight to his biceps, the red department logo on his left pectoral. He winks at me from behind his glasses, his arms wrapped around Chloe’s legs to keep her in place where she’s straddling his shoulders.
“Hey,” Zach says when I finally reach them, those blue eyes of his scouring over every inch of me. He reaches out a hand and fans his fingers through my long, unbound tresses. “I like your hair down like this.”
Lydia embraces me in a quick hello before she’s called away by another crew member for a cup of coffee.
Bailey steps up to me and wraps her arms around my waist, hugging me tight before tilting her head up to look at me.
“Dad said you were coming, and that we had to be chill and not act like heathens when you got here.”
I snort out a laugh, raising my eyes to his. “Oh yeah?”
“Mr. Chief said we get to go for a ride in the big firetruck later,” Chloe says from her perch on Joel’s shoulders. “If Daddy says we can, anyway.”
“We’ll see how well you behave today,” Zach grumbles, but winks at his daughters.
“Do I get to go for a ride?” I ask, smiling innocently up at him. His hand finds the small of my back, urging me closer to his side.
“Depends on how well you behave, too,” he rasps, leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek. My skin flames at the contact, and the husky warning.
“So, no flirting with your crew?” I ask just as quietly, for his ears alone. He glowers down at me, and butterflies erupt low in my belly.
“Why don’t you fuck around and find out, Princess?” he growls low, and fuck, I’m cooked. “Be careful or you’ll earn yourself another punishment.”
Grinning impishly, I tease, “Don’t mind if I do.”
“Louise…” he warns, and I wink, before turning to look around.
Outside, next to the big firetruck, I spot Liv and her two white-blond haired kids standing next to a man in the department uniform.
He’s down on one knee, helping four-year-old Charlee put on one of the massive turnout jackets that comes clear down to her toes, and a helmet that’s about ten sizes too big.
Noah, her three-year-old, is bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting for his turn to try on the gear.
Liv smiles down at both of her kids, but I see the blush that stains her cheeks when she talks to the fireman.
“Oh, good, Liv did come,” I say, smiling up at Zach. I’m so incredibly nervous to introduce him, and I’m not sure why.
His gaze follows mine and he asks, “Your friend, right?” I nod. “And, your other friend, Willow?”
“Right,” I say, smiling again. “She should be here soon. I think she’s bringing her boyfriend, Luck.”
“His name is Luck?” Zach asks incredulously.
Laughing, I nod as we make our way out the bay doors toward where Liv and the fireman are standing. “His last name is Luck, yes. He runs the Pub downtown.”
“Ahh, yes,” Zach says, nodding. “Their popcorn machine caught fire last year.”
“You would know that,” I laugh, shaking my head. Liv turns as we approach, her smile going wide. “Hey! Glad you made it! Hi, Charlee! Hi, Noah!”
“Auntie Lou, look! I’m a fighterfighter!” Charlee crows, holding her arms out wide to show off the jacket that swallows her whole.
“You’re just the bravest looking fighterfighter I ever did see, Charlee-Girl,” I praise, kneeling down to say hello to them both. The fireman still kneeling down in front of Charlee sticks his hand out. “Hi, I’m Lou. Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Tommy,” he says quietly. His brown eyes are kind, his sandy brown hair unconventionally long. It curls over the collar of his shirt and is long enough to tuck behind his ears. He glances at Liv again, a shy smile tugging at his mouth when he looks at my single-mom friend.
Okayyyy, sir. We see you.
Tommy and Zach say hello, before Tommy excuses himself. Pushing to stand, I knock my shoulder into Zach’s arm and smile sheepishly at Liv. “Liv, this is Zach.”