The Firefighter’s Christmas (The Bloom Sisters #2)

Chapter One

A melodic giggle was the only warning Zachary Langley had before a woman with flyaway blonde hair grabbed his arm, twirled beneath it, then kissed the top of his hand in an old-fashioned gesture.

“Today is the best day,” she said, her mirth-filled gaze meeting his briefly and, as if an invisible piece of tinsel entwined them together, he couldn’t look away. Her happiness was infectious and his lips curled into an answering smile.

A heartbeat later his hand was free and she skipped down the steps, her hair dancing behind her. He remained grounded to the spot and watched her get into a silver SUV and reverse out of the bay.

“What was that?” he mumbled, feeling discombobulated and sure he’d stepped into one of those cheesy Christmas movies that were so popular this time of year.

He’d grown up in the world of make-believe, where scenes were manipulated so the viewer thought one thing, but something completely different was happening.

That’s exactly what he felt was occurring now.

Zach glanced around, looking for a hidden camera.

Or someone to jump out, yelling, “Cut!” And the crew would then appear, ready to set up for the next shot.

Nothing like that happened. The area around him remained still, like it should. He lived in Marietta, Montana, now, not Hollywood, where some dreams came true, but many were destroyed.

Switching his focus back to the job he’d been tasked to do, Zach made his way into the building and headed for the fire equipment cupboard.

He was off duty, but he’d told his captain he’d call in and do the courthouse’s monthly inspection on his way home.

He didn’t have to do it, but as he was new to the station and the town, he wanted to let the crew know he was a team player.

He’d been part of a hotshot crew in California but had recently relocated to Marietta because he needed .

. . space. Space to recalibrate and catch his breath.

Work out if he could be on a normal crew again and not the high adrenaline rush being a hotshot firefighter had given him.

What better place to do all that than Montana, where the wide blue sky was welcoming, and in a small town where no one knew him?

His past. Or who his mother was—at least so far, no one had mentioned they knew his connection to Kathryn Lancaster.

And if they did, they kept it to themselves, which he was grateful for.

Zach quickly closed the door with his mother’s name on it.

He still hadn’t forgiven her for what she’d done to him.

How she’d used him. How the need for fame had driven her to ignore her son’s pleas for anonymity and time to process all he’d gone through.

To think about the trauma others had gone through.

To try to use her platform to raise awareness of the dangers of being ill-prepared for the harm nature could do.

Instead, Kathryn had “mom-guilted” him into doing her bidding with tears and accusations that her feelings meant nothing to him, and that for days, she didn’t know if he was alive or dead.

They had clashes over the years, but this had been the one that pushed him over the edge, and he’d blown up at his mother and cut off all communications.

Whether it was permanent or not remained to be seen, but for the moment, he just needed to be alone and work through his mother’s place in his life.

And, more to the point, if she even had one at all.

He sighed and paused in front of the cupboard. So much for not letting that door burst open. There would be a time when he would have to face it all, but today was not that day.

Closing his eyes, he took a moment to use the techniques his therapist had given him when his thoughts became too overwhelming.

Another reason that he’d come to a small town, where the peace and tranquility he’d found had already been good for his soul.

He’d only been in Marietta a month, but in that time, he’d been able to sleep better than he had in the six months leading up to his move.

Once he was confident he was back in control of his emotions and that any thoughts of his mother and her actions were firmly locked away, he inspected the equipment, noting that everything was in order, signed his name in the inspection folder, and closed the door, jumping a little when he came face-to-face with a woman.

How had he not heard her come up behind him? She was wearing high heels. The type that always made a clipping sound that could be heard from quite a few feet away.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Inspecting the fire equipment, ma’am.”

She looked him over. “Shouldn’t a member of the fire department be doing this?”

“Yes.” Zach dug into his pocket and pulled out his Marietta Fire Department ID. “Firefighter Zachary Langley.”

The woman took it and then looked between the plastic card and Zach. “You’re the hot shot from California, aren’t you?”

Shit, she knows who I am. She’s going to ask for an autograph from my mom. Or worse, a spot on her show.

With thoughts of his mom so close to the surface, he’d defaulted to his automatic reaction when someone recognized him. He’d been hoping for a little while longer before who he truly was came out. At least he’d had a month of semi-solitude.

“I am,” he said quietly, deciding there was no point in denying it.

She handed back his ID. “I’m Chelsea Flint, Mayor of Marietta. It’s good to meet you.”

He waited a heartbeat for her to elaborate, and when she didn’t, he breathed out, releasing some of the tension riding on his shoulders. “Nice to meet you too, ma’am.”

She waved her hand in the air. “It’s Chelsea. I understand from the fire chief that you’ve come here for a fresh start. Thank you for choosing us. We’re very lucky to have a firefighter of your caliber on our squad.”

That was it? She wasn’t going to say anything about what he’d done while he’d been in California? Or who his mom was?

Did she really not know who he was, or was she waiting for him to say something? If so, she’d be waiting awhile, because he was keeping that information locked down.

“I’m glad to be here. Marietta is a beautiful town.”

“It is. And you’ve arrived just in time to see it in all its holiday season glory.

There’s nothing quite like the way the shops on Main Street decorate for the season.

Anyway, I must be off. Next time you’re here to do an inspection, maybe do it in your uniform.

” Her eyebrow rose, but there wasn’t any heat in her voice.

Zach ducked his head in acknowledgment. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Chelsea!” she reminded him, calling over her shoulder as she clipped away on her high heels.

“Got away with that one,” he murmured as he leaned against the wall.

The guys at the station were aware of his firefighting heroics, the aftermath of it all, and his familial connections.

They didn’t treat him any differently and Zach was glad about that.

They were all cut from the same cloth, and they hadn’t joined the fire department for glory or notoriety.

They’d joined to serve and keep the community, and surrounds, safe.

The guys wouldn’t blab around the town about who he was and what he’d done.

If they told their significant others, then they were keeping it quiet too.

Of course, all of that was speculation, and maybe all the residents were aware of his past. Either way, everyone he’d encountered in his short time had been respectful toward him and he’d done the same.

Another perk of living in a small town. After living in bustling LA all his life, he thought it might be stifling, with everyone seemingly knowing everyone else, but it wasn’t.

Straightening, he headed back out to his car, ready to go home, where he would sit alone, eat his dinner, and watch whatever appealed to him on TV—which was getting harder and harder to find.

The other day he’d spent a good hour flicking through channels and streaming services before he’d given up and picked up his e-reader.

Instead of heading toward the quiet street he lived on, Zach took the turn that would lead him to the Main St. diner.

It was a place he’d frequented only a couple of times, preferring to cook his own food.

He wasn’t strict with his diet, but he tended to stay away from fatty foods as much as possible.

Tonight, though, he didn’t want to go to his empty place.

He wanted noise. And maybe he’d see the mysterious woman who’d danced with him and kissed his hand on top of the stairs.

Zach mentally scoffed at his fanciful thought. He wasn’t living in that cheesy Christmas movie he’d earlier thought about. This was reality, and the chances of him seeing her again were pretty slim, but he still couldn’t stop remembering their brief encounter.

Who was she?

Because of his job, his history with the opposite sex, and how he’d been used more times than he liked to remember, he tended to keep to himself now.

He hadn’t fully immersed himself in Marietta life.

He didn’t want to take the risk of someone recognizing him and then making a fuss.

Or posting on social media about him. If that happened, someone from his mom’s office would tell her, and she’d seek him out for some other publicity opportunity.

Before he’d cut off communication with her, he heard she was writing a book about her life, and he wanted nothing to do with that.

Zach found a parking space on the street just down from the diner. The air was crisp and he grabbed his jacket from the back seat. He wasn’t used to the Montana cold. He’d grown up in LA and, while it got cold, it didn’t get to freezing temperatures, like it did up here.