Chapter 6
Look at God! Ever since our chance encounter, I'd prayed for a way to run into Liam again, so when he invited me to the charity event, I was ecstatic.
The chili cook-off was in full swing as I approached the community park.
Laughter and music grew louder the closer I got.
Liam offered to pick me up, but I told him I had to finalize a design and send out a few emails before joining the festivities.
Each station displayed a different fire company logo or sponsor banner. Kids with painted Dalmatian faces ran around, wearing plastic firefighter helmets. Several families visited the fire truck, parked at the edge of the grass, with its doors open, creating a photo op for the excited children.
"Well, damn, look who decided to grace us with her presence," Jaxon commented.
I turned to find him walking my way with his arms spread wide like I was a long-lost friend he'd expected. He wore a black apron with the words "Too Hot to Handle" across the chest.
"I had nothing better to do," I replied with a shrug. I couldn't keep the smile off my face. I walked into his hug.
"Perfect timing. You can be our first taste-tester. The judges won't make their rounds for another half hour." Jaxon slung his arm over my shoulder and steered me toward their booth.
Dane stood over a huge pot, stirring chili with an aroma of rich cumin and other spices.
"Dane is bitter because his secret recipe got third place last year," Jaxon joked.
"Behind your watery tomato soup? The judge had COVID and lost his sense of taste. That's the only explanation," Dane shot back.
I laughed at their antics.
"What makes your chili special?" I asked, leaning against the table.
"Ah, my special soldier's chili — created in the field with limited supplies but maximum impact. The secret ingredient is determination." Jaxon winked.
Dane scoffed. "And enough hot sauce to be classified as a chemical weapon. Don't let him fool you. His soldiers' recipe changes every year, depending on what he saw on The Food Network last week."
"Wow!" Jaxon pressed a hand to his heart.
I couldn't help but laugh again.
"Don't listen to him, Gisselle. Try it and prepare to have your taste buds transformed." Jaxon spooned some into a small cup.
I accepted the cup and took a cautious sip. Heat immediately crossed my tongue, followed by a layering of flavors.
"Damn. That's actually good!" I admitted, genuinely impressed.
Jaxon raised an eyebrow. "Actually? The disrespect! I spent three days perfecting this recipe."
"More like three hours. Most of that time was spent texting the paramedic from County General," Dane corrected.
"Multitasking is a skill, nigga." Jaxon smiled at me.
"Uh-huh. I'm going to leave you two to it. I'm looking for Liam," I replied.
"Blaze is at the judges' table." Jaxon pointed at a long table where a row of people sat, each with a clipboard and small tasting cups lined up in front of them.
My eyes found him. Liam sat at the end of the table.
His expression was one of complete concentration as he made notes about the sample he'd tried.
His attire caught me off guard. I'd only ever seen him in uniform.
Today, he wore dark jeans and a navy Henley, his sleeves pushed to his elbows, revealing strong forearms and a noticeable scar.
The casual clothes made him more approachable.
"Want me to shoot a flare so he sees you?" Jaxon asked, amused.
"Shut up. I'm taking in the whole event," I said, fighting a smile.
"With laser focus on one particular part of it," Dane added, laughing.
"Y'all are worse than my cousins. I came for the community, not the personnel," I responded.
"The personnel might be happier to see you than you think. The man's been wound tight as a spring. Something to do with an arson investigation," Jaxon commented.
Dane shot him a look.
"What? It's public knowledge. It was in the paper yesterday," Jaxon defended.
I glanced back at Liam as he tested the chili. His posture spoke of a burden he'd carried too long. This time, I headed in his direction. When I got closer, I stopped at his table.
"Ah, you made it." Liam stood up to greet me, a grin tugging at his mouth like he couldn't hold back. He pulled me into a hug, his hand lingering against my back before letting go. "We're about to announce the winners in about twenty minutes. After that, let's hang out," he confirmed.
"Cool, I'm going to try a few more samples until then," I managed, my pulse tapping faster than I wanted to admit.
"Sounds good," he replied, but his gaze skimmed over me like he was already counting those minutes down.
I went to a few more tables, talking and sampling chili. Every so often, our eyes met, and my stomach did this ridiculous little flip thing, reminding me of high school crushes and bad decisions.
As I headed back to Liam's table, he stood up to talk to the group of judges. A small boy, around five, tugged on Liam's pant leg and tilted his head back to look up at the tall firefighter.
"Are you the fire guy?" the child asked.
Liam's expression softened as he crouched down to the boy's level, bringing himself eye to eye with the child.
"I'm one of the fire guys. My name is Lieutenant Crawford. What's yours?"
"Mikey. My daddy said you save people from burning buildings."
"Sometimes, but I have a team that helps me. No firefighter works alone," Liam noted.
The boy's eyes were wide. "Do you have a fire hat?"
"A helmet. Want to try it on?" Liam reached for the dress uniform hat sitting on the table next to his notes.
Mikey nodded enthusiastically, and Liam placed the hat on the boy's head. It slipped down, completely covering his eyes, and the child giggled. The sound seemed to unlock something in Liam, and a smile transformed his face, revealing a dimple in his right cheek I hadn't noticed before.
"It's too big!" Mikey laughed, pushing it back to peek out from under the brim.
"You'll grow into it if you decide to become a firefighter when you grow up," Liam assured him, picking the hat up so he could see.
A woman approached. "I'm so sorry if he's bothering you."
"No bother at all. We were discussing the qualifications for joining the department." He chuckled.
Mikey beamed under the praise as his mother smiled. She reminded him that it was time to go.
Liam turned his eyes to me, and he held my gaze. Something inside me melted. Well, shit, I was in trouble.
The mayor's voice came over the PA, announcing it was time for the award.
The crowd gathered closer. Chief Reeves was announced the winner for the third-year running, and good-natured groans from the firefighters made me laugh.
It reminded me of my cousins at family reunions, talking trash over Spades games but ready to defend each other in a heartbeat.
"He added bourbon to his chili. That's his secret ingredient," the deep voice behind me said.
I turned to see Liam behind me, his hands in his pockets.
"Sounds like you're a sore loser, Lieutenant," I teased.
The corners of his mouth quirked up. "I'm stating the facts. There should be rules against alcohol-based advantages."
"I'm personally not opposed to a little bourbon." I laughed.
"I hear you." Liam chuckled.
The crowd began to disperse, breaking into smaller groups to head home.
"I've probably consumed my monthly sodium allowance today," Liam said, rubbing his belly.
I raised my eyebrows. "Want to walk?"
"Sure. I could walk you back to your place."
"That would be nice."
We took our time walking through the park before we reached the street.
"The event was amazing. Much better than the silent auctions and stuffy formal events in the city."
Liam chuckled. "We tried a formal dinner once. The chief ended up loosening his tie an hour in and declaring we would never put on airs again."
I laughed. "He sounds like a wise man."
"He is. He's been with the department for almost thirty years and remembers everyone's birthday but will run you into the ground during drills."
"Damn."
We crossed Main Street at the intersection by Thompson's Bakery.
"How's your project coming along?" Liam asked.
I was in the middle of explaining my plans when the engine of a truck revved as it took the corner way too fast. Before I could process the danger, Liam moved with reflexive speed, his arm shooting out and pulling me hard against his chest as he stepped back onto the curb.
The truck sped past, missing us by inches, the driver oblivious to how close they'd come to hitting us.
"Shit!" I gasped.
Liam's arms tightened around me, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other one around my waist. The rapid rise and fall of his chest accelerated the beat of his heart against my ear. His scent enveloped me, clean and woodsy, making my breath catch.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice rumbling in his chest.
I nodded, but neither of us moved. The moment of danger passed, but something else had taken its place: an awareness of each point where our bodies connected: the solid wall of Liam's chest against my cheek, his palm against the small of my back, and the slight roughness of his jaw against my temple.
Time slowed to accommodate the rush of sensations.
When I finally tilted my head back to look up at him, Liam stared at me with such intensity that I felt naked. His usually guarded expression conveyed hunger.
"How the fuck did he get a license? I told you they take this curve too fast."
I studied his face. Something about his discomfort gave me courage.
"Are you okay?" I asked, holding his gaze when he looked at me.
Instead of answering, one hand came up to cup my face, and his thumb traced a path along my cheekbone. For a heartbeat, he hesitated. Then his mouth was on mine, and thinking was impossible.
The kiss was a declaration rather than a request. His lips moved against mine with a hunger matching the ache blooming in my chest and spreading downward to the pool low in my belly. I responded, my hands sliding up his chest to curl around his neck, pulling him closer.
Liam groaned in his throat as our kiss deepened, his lips tracing the seam of my lips until I opened for him. The gentle press of his tongue created a delicious pressure, leaving me dizzy.
When he pulled back, we breathed hard. He rested his forehead against mine.
"I—"
"Yeah, me too," I agreed, understanding perfectly. What we understood wasn't about words. It was a quiet agreement that whatever this was wasn't going away.
He reluctantly stepped back, his hand lingering on my waist as if he couldn't bring himself to break contact completely. "We should get away from this dangerous curve before I do it again."
"Would that be so bad?"
"No, but the middle of Main Street might not be the best place."
"You're right." I giggled. Things felt different now as we walked, but his hand found mine, our fingers intertwining with an inevitable casual intimacy.
The rest of the walk passed as if I were in a dreamlike state. All too soon, we reached my rental. We paused at the steps leading to my door. What was this, and where was it going?
"Thanks for walking me home," I expressed.
"Anytime. Goodnight," Liam responded, stepping back.
"Goodnight."
I climbed the steps to my door, pulling my keys from my pocket. As I stepped inside, I knew his eyes were on me, watching until I made it safely inside. I closed the door, leaning back against it with my eyes closed, trying to process what had just happened.
Lieutenant Crawford had kissed me, not just any kiss, but the kind described in romance novels. His kiss reminded me of why people wrote songs and poems about this feeling.
I touched my lips, remembering the pressure of his mouth against mine. For the first time since moving to Goodwin Grove, something unfurled in my chest, like I was ready to let someone in, maybe even if someone carried as much fire within him as Lieutenant Liam Crawford.