Chapter 6
COOPER
Ijust stood there. Frozen.
The kids were being rounded up and directed to go back inside. At least, that appeared to be the goal, but it didn’t seem to be working. Matt slapped me on the shoulder and walked back to the truck.
If you had asked me yesterday what I would do if I ever saw her again, I probably would have said something casual like I didn’t care. I would have shrugged it off like she didn’t mean anything. But that was a lie. Always had been.
Truth was, I had been in love with her once. Maybe I still was, if the way my chest had just hollowed out at the sight of her meant anything. She was gorgeous.
She still looked exactly like the girl who kissed me goodbye in the parking lot after graduation, but now there was something more polished about her.
More sophisticated. Her brown hair was shorter now, falling just past her shoulders in soft waves.
She had on dark jeans that fit her perfectly and a burgundy sweater that brought out the warmth in her brown eyes.
Even flustered and embarrassed, she carried herself differently than she had in high school.
More confident, despite the circumstances.
But those eyes? They were exactly the same. Big, beautiful brown eyes that reminded me of chocolate. And when they met mine, I felt the same jolt I had felt when I was seventeen and stupid enough to think I had a chance with my sister’s best friend.
She was beautiful then. She was even more beautiful now.
Which only made her presence here more confusing. Joy Murphy was supposed to be living her dream life in some big city, not standing in the snow outside Calton Hill Elementary looking like she wanted to disappear into the nearest snowbank.
“You good, man?” Tony asked.
“Yeah. Good. Let’s get back to the station. I’m hungry.”
I climbed into the jump seat. Matt started the engine and honked twice to a few of the kids who were still outside.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the tornado that just blew back into my life.
Back then, I had tried to play it cool. She was strictly off-limits by decree of my sister.
She had told me to leave Joy the hell alone or she’d cut my balls off while I was sleeping.
I told myself I didn’t want or need Joy.
I had had a whole town of girls I could chase.
But none of them had that spark. None of them had her laugh.
None of them had eyes that made me forget what I was saying.
And none of them kissed me the way she had.
One kiss. That was all it took to get hooked. She’d smelled like vanilla and tasted like peppermint. I had thought about that one kiss for months after. Every damn time I dated someone else and had a first kiss, I compared it to the kiss with Joy.
None of them ever measured up.
And then she’d left. Ran off to college and the city and never looked back. My sister had missed her friend. I missed her too, though for less innocent reasons.
If she had stayed? Hell, maybe everything would have been different. Maybe I wouldn’t have wound up with Lynn. Maybe I wouldn’t know what it felt like to watch my future blow away like confetti in the wind.
It was crazy how one relatively insignificant moment could change a person’s entire life. But no sense crying over what might’ve been. That would drive me crazier than I already was.
“Who was the girl?” Tony asked from up front.
Tony didn’t grow up in Calton Hill. He came from Salt Lake. Everyone else around here, including Matt, knew Joy. Or at least knew of her. The small-town girl that moved to the big city and was supposedly rich now.
At least, according to the rumors.
I happened to know it wasn’t exactly true. She definitely moved to New York, but from what I understood, she wasn’t rich. I assumed she was home for the holidays. First time in a long time.
Matt backed the engine into the garage and we all climbed out. A cold breeze shot through the open bay door. I quickly pushed the button to close it. We took off our turnout gear and left it at the ready next to the truck.
The firehouse always smelled faintly of coffee and onions. Someone was always cooking with onions. I didn’t like onions, but I could admit they smelled good. It was comfortable. Familiar.
Matt hummed “Jingle Bell Rock” while I resisted the urge to shove him into a locker. I made a beeline down the hall and straight for the radio room.
The door was propped open. My sister was kicked back in her chair, headset resting crookedly on her messy ponytail, radio panel blinking lazily in front of her.
She wore a Calton Hill Fire Department T-shirt, black cargo pants, and the fuzziest pink slippers you’ve ever seen.
Ridiculous. But she didn’t have to leave the station.
She dispatched. She didn’t fight fires. And she insisted she was calmer when she was comfortable, hence the need for the slippers.
I leaned on the doorframe. “You.”
She didn’t look up from her phone. “Me.”
“Do you know who I just saw?”
“Rudolph?”
I scowled. “Joy. Fucking. Murphy.”
That got her attention. She shot upright, phone nearly clattering to the desk, eyes wide as saucers. “She’s in town?”
“Apparently.”
“That sneaky little bitch,” she said, but with affection. “She didn’t even tell me. Where did you see her?”
“At the call.” I dropped into the chair opposite her, scrubbing a hand over my face. “School cafeteria. Nearly burned the whole building down making hot chocolate.”
That made her laugh so hard she snorted. “Classic Joy.”
“Not funny.”
“Very funny.” She wiped her eyes. “God, I wonder if she still has the same number.”
“I didn’t exactly get a chance to catch up. Was a little busy explaining fire safety. All I know is she’s back and staying with her aunt.”
“Victoria?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, I’m calling her,” she said immediately, already digging through her contacts.
I groaned. “Of course you are.”
“Don’t give me that tone. This is exciting! Not all of us are going to pout for the rest of our days. You’ve been sulking for a year. I say this with love but get over it already.”
For a while we just sat there, her texting furiously, me staring at the radio console lights.
Finally, I sighed. “You know what I hate about this season?”
“Everything now?” she said, still grinning.
“People lose their goddamn minds. It’s like Christmas eats their brain cells. They do shit no sane person would do any other time of year and then we have to swoop in and clean up.”
“Like gluing gingerbread to your face?”
“Exactly.” I pointed at her. “Exhibit A. And cocoa fires. Exhibit B.”
“And we won’t even talk about the number of people that fall off their ladders while trying to hang lights,” she said.
I nodded. “Or slip on the ice while trying to walk their big ass dogs.”
“Speaking of ice and dogs,” Katrina said, setting her phone aside. “Did you hear about Old Man Carson?”
I raised an eyebrow. “What about him?”
“He was out walking that massive lab of his, the one that’s basically the size of a small horse, and the dog saw a squirrel or something. Took off like a rocket.”
I could already see where this was going. “Please tell me he let go of the leash.”
“Nope.” She shook her head, grinning. “Held on tight. Got dragged halfway down Maple Street before he finally let go. Scraped up his knees, tore his coat, the whole nine yards.”
“Damn. Is he okay?”
“Oh, he’s fine. Stubborn as ever. But here’s the kicker—we got called out because Mrs. Ellis thought she witnessed a hit-and-run. She saw this old man sliding down the street on his stomach and assumed he’d been clipped by a car.”
I snorted despite myself. “Of course she did.”
“By the time we got there, Carson was already back on his feet, brushing himself off like nothing happened. The dog was sitting pretty as you please, tail wagging, probably wondering why everyone was making such a fuss.”
“Did you tell him he needs a shorter leash? Or maybe a smaller dog?”
“You try telling Frank Carson anything,” she said with a laugh. “Man’s been walking that route for fifteen years. Says he’s not about to change his routine because of a ‘minor tumble.’”
I shook my head. “Minor tumble. He got dragged by a hundred-and-twenty-pound lab.”
“A hundred and thirty, easy. That dog could probably pull a sled.” She picked up her phone again, still smiling.
“I need to move south,” I said. “I’m done with the cold. Do they celebrate Christmas in Arizona?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”
I heaved a sigh once again. “Well then I fit in this town just fine. We’re surrounded by idiots.”
She leaned back, folding her arms, still smiling, but softer now. “That’s not why you hate the season, Coop.”
I stiffened. “Sure it is.”
“No.” She gave me that big-sister look. Big sister by two minutes. But she still made me feel like I was twelve again and got caught sneaking cookies before dinner. “You hate it because of her.”
“Don’t.” My voice came out sharper than I meant.
“You’re still associating Christmas with Lynn. I swear we can never schedule another event during any holiday. We cannot risk things going badly and you holding a grudge forever. Lynn didn’t ruin Christmas. She ruined your wedding. Stop connecting the two.”
I clenched my jaw. “Kind of hard not to.”
“Cooper.” Her voice gentled, but there was steel under it. “Santa didn’t leave you at the altar. Frosty didn’t run off with her tennis instructor. It wasn’t elves sticking their packages in her sleigh.”
“Gross,” I muttered, but I couldn’t stop the huff of reluctant laughter. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“Christmas didn’t jingle—”
“Stop,” I said. “I get it. I don’t need any more visuals.”
“She was a coward,” my sister said. “Jilting you at the altar instead of telling you to your face. And yeah, it was brutal. But you’re better off without her.
Better now than five years down the road or even two years down the road.
Can you imagine how bad it would have been if you had kids?
She would have made your life hell, Cooper. And mine. Good riddance.”
I stared at the scuffed tile floor. Better off. Sure. But the words didn’t sink in. Not really.
She leaned forward. “You need to stop letting her steal Christmas from you. She doesn’t get to ruin this season for you forever. Don’t let her be the actual Grinch. Fuck her. I hope she’s miserable somewhere. I hope she’s hating every life choice she’s ever made.”
I dragged a hand down my face. “I’m not ready.”
“Not ready to what?”
“To move on.” I swallowed. “I don’t think I ever will be.”
My sister sighed, softer now. “I’ll make it my mission to get you in the spirit. One candy cane at a time.”
I groaned, leaning back in the chair. “God help me.”
“You mean Santa help you.”
I shot her a look. She grinned wickedly.
“I’m going to eat before the next call comes in,” I said. “And don’t you dare try to send me off on a bogus call.”
“One time!” She was laughing as I walked out.
“One time too many,” I shot back. “That’s an abuse of resources. I’m a fireman and you’re supposed to be a dispatcher. Don’t abuse your position.”
She said something but I didn’t hear her.
When I walked into the living area, Matt was in the kitchen with the sandwich stuff out.
Tony had disappeared into his office. We were a small station.
Usually we only had maybe five people on staff at any given time.
I used to think I wanted to move down to Salt Lake and get a job at one of the busy firehouses.
And then I realized I actually liked being around town. For now.
I liked knowing the people I was sent out to help. I liked knowing it was my sister I was talking to on the other end of the radio when shit was going sideways. Katrina was the calm one. I was the hothead. She was the Yin to my Yang.
Even if she drove me fucking crazy.