Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
NICK
S taring down at the large pot in front of me, spoon in hand, I read over Rachel’s instructions one more time, though the words should be ingrained in my brain by now for how many times I’ve read through them.
Okay, peeled and minced garlic—check. Diced bell pepper and jalapeno—check. Browned and drained ground beef—check.
I wipe my hands on my jeans, visually checking each item. Beans, spices, tomatoes… I think I have everything.
“You look like you’re about to do brain surgery,” Tanner says, taking a big bite of one of the cayenne-cocoa cupcakes with chili-cream cheese frosting that Sydney is selling at the table across the way.
“More like defusing a bomb,” I mutter, tipping the ingredients into the pot.
Behind us, the normally empty lot of grass next to the fire station is buzzing with people, the hum of conversation and laughter enlivening the space.
The event has only just started and the place is already hopping.
Someone from the community center donated booths for us to use, which makes the area look that much more official, and colorful banners flutter in the breeze.
The band is setting up, and Brody dramatically clears his throat into the microphone with a check one, two while the metallic clink of ladles against pots and sizzling meat permeates the air.
Sweat trickles down the back of my shirt as I lean over the steaming pot to stir it, careful to not touch the camp stove.
Tanner hands me a cold bottle of water, and though I have no idea where he got it from, I gratefully accept it, chugging a quarter in one go.
“You know, you could’ve asked Rachel to make the chili,” Tanner says, eyeing the combined ingredients skeptically.
I shoot him a look, though he doesn’t seem to pick up on it. “The firefighters have to take part, too. And she’s coordinating everything else. She’s busy.”
I scan the crowd, but can’t spot her familiar ponytail anywhere.
Tanner leans in further, scrutinizing my chili. “Is it supposed to look like that? It’s all watery.”
Damn. It does. “It’s fine. It has to thicken… or something.” I stir it some more, as if I know what I’m doing.
“Well, it better be like the last batch you made. That shit was good. Are you bringing home leftovers?”
I roll my eyes. “No. This is for the community.”
He makes an honest to God pout, and I laugh. “I’ll have Rachel make us something else soon.”
He perks up at that. “Yeah? When’s she coming over next?”
“She’s spending the night tonight.”
He rubs his hands together with glee. “What’s she making us?”
I bat his hands away. “She’s not making anything. That’s not what tonight’s about.”
“Gotcha.” He gives me a knowing nod. “It’s about hooking up. I’ll make myself scarce.”
“No. Jesus.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, then remember I might have jalapeno still on my fingers and let go. “And I don’t think it’s hooking up if she’s my girlfriend.”
His brows raise. “Girlfriend? Good for you. When did this happen?”
Between my station shifts and preparing for the chili cookoff, I haven’t seen him much in passing. “Earlier this week.” I can’t help the smile that tugs at my mouth, but Tanner doesn’t rib me for it.
“Played the long game and it payed off.”
That’s one way to look at it, but like Rachel said, I’m just glad we’re together now, no matter how long it took.
“Well, try not to poison her with this stuff,” he says, motioning to my chili, a grin on his face. “Or half the people in this town.”
“Get out of here.” I shoo him away and give the chili another stir, but I think I’m pretty much done. It just needs to simmer.
Chief wanders over from his own station, inspecting my pot. He’s been done for the last twenty minutes—probably because he knows what he’s doing.
“Does it look okay?” I ask cautiously. A part of me wants to find Rachel and have her come check it out for me, too.
He nods in that understated way of his that means everything is fine, and I relax.
Chief looks around, his gaze lingering on Mark taking tickets at the entrance and Jamal issuing wristbands to those who purchased them.
“This fundraiser is shaping up pretty nicely. People are showing up.” He gestures across the way to where a man is chugging a glass of milk at the hot pepper eating challenge booth, others both cheering and jeering him.
“Having a great time. You did good, kid. Something like this isn’t easy to pull off. ”
I stare at him, my chest going tight. Chief doesn’t dole out praise for the fun of it. My gaze drops to the bubbling chili, like it can save me from the weight of the moment. “I appreciate it. Most of the credit goes to Rachel, though.”
“Funny, when I spoke with her, she said you did most of the work.”
“No, it was her plan—”
“Recruited and coordinated the volunteers,” he continues, as if I said nothing. “Canvassed the community. Borrowed or bought all the supplies. Set everything up this morning.”
“Yeah, but I had help—”
“I’m promoting you to captain.”
My head snaps up. “What?” Now that Henry’s gone, I was wondering if I would take his place as captain, but there’s always a chance Chief could be looking to fill the position from someone outside. “I mean, thank you.”
Chief nods, as if he’s commenting on the weather and not my career. “Been watching you. And today proves you’re ready. When I retire—whenever that is—you’ll be the next chief.”
Something between disbelief and awe catches in my chest, warming it. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t need to say anything,” Chief says, clapping me on the back. “Just keep showing up like you’ve been doing. You’ve earned this.”
I swallow hard, getting rid of the frog in my throat. “Thank you. Really.”
He gives a brief nod again and heads over to the mini-stage area we created where his nephew is pumping up the growing crowd.
Holy shit. I absent-mindedly stir my chili, hardly seeing it as I go over Chief’s words. A laugh escapes me, and though I’m fairly sure it’s tinged with panic, I let it loose, anyway.
Me. Chief. The idea is wild.
And yet… it feels right. This is something I’ve been working toward for the past decade. Putting in the time and effort without expecting reward or recognition, necessarily, but it came to me, regardless.
My heart thuds with… pride. I can’t remember the last time I felt that.
I glance up, searching through the crowd, and spot Rachel, her head bent over a clipboard by the raffle table to win the chance to be a firefighter for the day.
The sun catches her hair to turn it into a rich, chestnut brown, the strands almost seeming to shimmer with a halo effect. That’s what Rachel is. My angel. None of this would have been possible without her.
I leave my chili to simmer and make my way to her side, wanting so badly to wrap her in my arms and breathe her in, crowd be damned.
“Hey,” she says, looking up and noticing me, her face brightening. I can’t tell her how much it means just that she’s happy to have me around. That I could make her day a little better by joining her.
“Hey, yourself.” My voice is rougher than usual, but I push on. “I have some news.”
She sets down her clipboard, full attention on me. “Did something happen with the judges? With the band? With the chili?”
“No, no.” I lay a hand on her shoulder, calming her before she can get any more worked up. “News about me. Chief is promoting me to captain.”
She gasps, her eyes shining. “That’s incredible. Congratulations.”
It’s funny, I usually hate people congratulating me. But coming from Rachel… It makes my heart thud harder. I want her to be proud of me. And to deserve her pride.
I shrug, attempting nonchalance. “Guess he thinks I’m not half-bad at this whole firefighting thing.”
She steps closer, her hand squeezing mine with a grounding touch. “You’re better than not half-bad. You’re amazing. You’ve earned it.
I clear my throat, sidestepping her praise, even as I crave it. “He also said someday when he retires, he wants me to take over as chief.”
Her eyes widen and a soft, delighted laugh escapes her, the sound enveloping me like a warm embrace. “That’s huge, Nick. I’m so proud of you.”
The warmth is still there, glowing in my chest, but an unexpected catch jars me, fear creeping around the edges. What if I let her down? And not only her, but everyone?
For years, I was sure I was a disappointment. Like Kyle said, the arsonist . I’ve worked hard to atone for that, but what if it’s not enough? What if it’s never enough?
I manage a small smile, holding onto her hand like it’s an anchor against the tide of self-doubt washing over me.
“What is it?” she asks quietly, her brows knitting as if she can read the worry on my face.
“You think I can do it?”
The question comes out quieter than I meant it to, more desperate than it should.
She reaches up, brushing a hand lightly over my temple and down my jaw in a gesture so tender, I fear it might break me. “I know you can.”
The din of the crowd fades into the background against the weight of her words.
I swallow hard, the praise sinking in deeper than I thought it would.
For so long, I’ve been going at it alone.
And now I have her, seeing me, believing in me.
Her faith lights me up from the inside, chasing away the still lingering doubts that I’m not enough.
For her. For this town.
But maybe I am.
I look around at all the people milling about us, some catching my eye and smiling or nodding in recognition. People that came out in support of the fire station. Of the event I helped put on.
A powerful warmth settles in my bones, a knowledge that I’m exactly where I need to be. And who I’m meant to be with.
I give in and kiss her, unable to help myself, but keep it short and simple, aware of the crowd around us. My chest is too full, emotion rising so fast I hardly know what to do with it.
I love her. God, I love her.
The words hover on my tongue, reckless and aching to be said, even knowing it’s too soon. That we’ve barely scratched the surface of this relationship, still finding our footing. This isn’t the time or place, either, surrounded by the noise of the cookoff and the whole town watching.
Even so, my gaze stays locked with hers, the words burning quietly inside. It’s only a matter of time before they spill out. A when , not if .
The moment’s broken by her sister approaching. “I’ve sold out of everything already.”
It takes a second for Rachel’s gaze to break with mine. Does she know what I was thinking? Could she sense it?
“That’s…” She shakes her head, as if she needs to clear her thoughts. “Everything?”
Sydney laughs a little as she holds out her hands in a helpless shrug. “I know, right? This event is crazy. Is it cool with you if I run back to the bakery and load up some more stuff to bring over? It won’t be chili-themed, but it’s still something.”
“Yeah, great idea.” Rachel glances at her watch. “Oh, shoot. I was supposed to check on Jae at the face painting station.”
Sydney disappears into the crowd and Rachel squeezes my hand one more time. “Congratulations, again. Let’s talk more about it tonight. You should probably check your chili.”
Right. The chili. The whole point of why we’re here.
I stick my hands in my pockets as I watch Rachel weave through the crowd with a determined stride, stopping to make sure Mrs. Klassen is alright before continuing on. There’s a tug low in my stomach, reminded about tonight.
Rachel’s spending the night at my place.
And good things come to those who wait.