Chapter 22
Cody
How lucky I am to have something
that makes saying goodbye so hard.
~ A.A. Milne
Dustin stands from the table where we just finished shift change.
He holds his hand out to Greyson. “Spin your partner, do-si-do.” He cracks himself up. “Come on, Grey.”
“I don’t spin on the clock,” Grey says, side-stepping Dustin. “But I do like filters in the coffeepot when I go to make the morning brew.”
“Awww, man,” Dustin wails. “Did I forget the filter?”
Greyson just stares at Dustin. “Unless you were going for sludge, yeah.”
I smile watching the two of them volley, their words inciting flashes of the chaos at The Barn Dance—spinning Carli, our kiss behind the barn, our late night phone conversation when I called her after I got home that night.
“You were the man of the hour at the dance,” Dustin says to me.
I smile at him.
“Giving out the prizes, announcing the winners,” he continues.
Greyson and I lock eyes. Something in the way he studies me makes me wonder if he saw me sneak out back less than a minute after Carli disappeared. He wouldn’t say if he did.
My jaw tightens and I swallow my nerves.
Dustin has no idea I saw him in Nashville yesterday.
I walk out of the room before things get awkward or obvious.
Poking my head into the office, I ask Captain, “Anything you need us to focus on this morning?”
“Just the usual,” he says. “Have you given the position any further thought?”
“I absolutely have.”
“Good.”
I nod and duck out toward the bay. We run through equipment checks and cleaning the bay well into the morning. No calls yet today.
After the routine tasks, I’m finishing up sweeping. Dustin’s at the workbench replacing worn hose gaskets. Greyson’s oiling the chainsaws. Patrick’s updating the maintenance logs.
“Someone’s happy,” Patrick says in my direction.
I look up, at first I don’t realize he’s talking about me. My mood is leaking into my work. I straighten my face, but not soon enough, because Dustin starts singing Whistle While You Work.
“Am I committing some sort of code violation?” I ask. “We’re allowed to smile at work, right?”
“Why don’t we call Carli and ask her,” Dustin jokes.
I’m not a man prone to blushing, but I feel my face heat, so I turn my back to my crew and focus on sweeping the pile of dirt into the dustpan.
Images flash through my mind like a private slide show—Carli sipping her coffee from Frothy Monkey, her with barbecue sauce smeared on her face, the light in her eyes when she found the pair of boots we bought, and the way she fell asleep leaning on me on the drive home.
The crew and I finish our morning routine, followed by a workout in the weight room.
I slip my cell out of my pocket while the other guys are getting ready to shower and send Carli a quick text. We’re still not sure when we can steal more time alone together. I texted her before I headed into work this morning, but I haven’t heard back.
Cody: I’m still smiling. Even after a whole day, I feel like I didn’t get enough time with you. Never enough.
Her text comes through immediately.
Carli: Yesterday was special. I’m smiling too. Thank you for letting me tag along. I’ve got to go. Work calls.
I pocket my cell, grinning like an idiot. My smile falters for a moment. Carli’s still on the other side of town, and I’m on the clock for another twenty hours.
A few hours later, the guys are all chilling in the main room. Greyson’s on his laptop. Dustin’s digging through the fridge and as usual during any downtime, Patrick has his head in a book.
I’m planning our grocery run when a voice rings through the bay and carries into the kitchen. I’d know her anywhere.
“Hello?”
“Is that Carli?” Greyson asks, shutting his laptop and standing.
“I think so,” I say, trying to hide my eagerness to go to her. I slowly rise from my chair and walk toward the door behind him.
“Hi,” she says, greeting all four of us.
The guys gather around like they’re each on a personal mission to welcome her to the station. I had no idea she was popping by.
My eyes rove over her skirt and heels, then her hair—which is usually in a braid or wild and free, like it was only yesterday when she was riding Storm at Ray’s ranch.
She’s smoothed it back and pulled it into a knot at the base of her neck.
She’s even wearing some makeup. Not too much, just enough to make her eyes pop and her lips look beyond kissable.
This is a version of Carli I’ve rarely seen.
My eyes linger on her despite the fact that we’re surrounded by my coworkers and boss.
But, beyond her appearance, it’s the way she’s carrying herself—with an air of confident professionalism.
David steps into the middle of the group of firefighters gathered around Carli and extends his hand to her. She shakes it, smiling at him.
“Thanks for coming by, Carli,” he says.
Looking around at the rest of us, Captain explains, “I wanted to go through the inspection of Jensen’s Auto Repair and that vacant building next door.”
His eyes land on me as if he’s assuming I’ll be the one doing this kind of follow-up in the future.
When Captain’s gaze shifts away from me, I catch Carli’s eyes and wink at her. I probably shouldn’t. She smiles softly and then looks away, straightening her features back into an on-the-job expression.
“I’ve got the documentation here,” she says to David. “Along with the corrective actions Jim completed … Mr. Jensen, that is.”
Carli hands a folder over to David. I take it all in—her hand, her fingers, the bend of her wrist, the slight tilt of her head, the way she straightens her shoulders once David is holding the folder and her hands are empty.
“Do you need me to go over any of it with you now?” she asks David.
“No, I’ll look it over and call you if I need anything else.” David smiles. “Oh! I almost forgot. Can you bring something back to Sherman for me?”
“Of course,” she smiles.
“I’ve got it on my desk,” David says, turning to walk into the office.
Carli trails behind him, head held high, in full inspector mode.
I pull out my phone and pivot away from the other guys on my crew.
Cody: You look amazing. And very professional. Impressive.
A few moments later, Carli and David walk out of the office, back into the bay. She holds her phone up and looks at me discreetly.
I smile at her from across the bay, and text her again.
Cody: I’ll be outside at the back of the building. There’s some trash that needs to go out right away.
She glances down at her phone, smiles softly and gives a barely-there nod in my direction.
Greyson’s already settled back into his recliner in the kitchen-dining area. Dustin’s playing a game on his phone. Patrick’s talking with Captain in the bay. Carli’s standing with them, but her eyes meet mine when I step out of the kitchen carrying a tied-off, half-full trash bag.
“Good to see you, Carli,” I say.
“You too, Cody,” she says, glancing at me briefly.
I hold the trash bag up in the air a little. “Just taking the trash around back.”
She smiles. I don’t hear what she says to Captain and Patrick, but I toss the trash bag into the dumpster, then I walk a little distance away from it and wait.
My nerves buzz like a kid skipping class.
Every sound and shadow is amplified. Footsteps approach, and I brace myself. Then Carli rounds the corner.
“Hey,” she whispers, a careful smile on her face.
“Did anyone see you?” I ask, my voice low and quiet.
“I don’t think so.”
She steps into my arms and I tug her close.
She doesn’t have to go up as high on her tiptoes because of those heels she’s wearing.
She wraps her arms around my neck and I lean in to kiss her.
She presses into me, running her hand through my hair and holding on to my neck.
Our kiss deepens. I can’t get enough of her and I don’t even know when I’ll see her again for more than a stolen moment.
Our day together yesterday didn’t ease the ache for her.
If anything, spending more time together only intensified my longing.
Carli pulls away quickly. She steps back just a half step and smooths her hand down her blouse. Her eyes search my face, and she reaches over and wipes my mouth with her fingertip.
“You’ve got my lipstick …” she whispers.
I wipe at my mouth with the back of my hand. “We’re ridiculous,” I say.
“We are,” she says through a smile. She reaches up and pushes a lock of my hair off my forehead. “I miss you.”
“Yeah. Me too. What has it been? Fourteen hours?”
She giggles and shakes her head. “Something like that.”
“When will I see you again—actually?” I ask her, not caring if I sound as desperate as I feel.
“I’m not sure,” she says. “Text me. Okay?”
“I will.” I look around, and I’m about to kiss her one more time when the siren sounds—loud and piercing.
Carli’s hand drops from my shoulder and I step back, running inside with only one quick glance back over my shoulder. She waves and I dart through the door into the bay to put on my turnout.
I’m in the officer’s seat less than a minute later.
We pull out of the driveway, sirens wailing, lights flashing.
Carli’s across the street, climbing into her truck.
“Structure fire in an outbuilding …” dispatch says through the headsets. She rattles off the address and then says, “Neighbor called it in.”
Greyson maneuvers us through town to the property out an old farm road where houses are closer together than our ranches.
By the time we arrive, the owner of the property and his neighbors have mostly contained the flames. Steam and smoke unfurl in plumes from the rooftop and windows.
We park and I give orders through the lapel mic. We get the fire knocked down. Then we check for hidden fire and hot spots. After less than an hour, we’re wrapping up and heading back to the station.
We’re quiet on the drive back. I indulge myself in memories of my kiss with Carli just before the siren went off and reality burst our bubble again. I can’t keep sneaking around with her. I’m going to have to figure out a way for us to tell everyone that we’re dating.