Chapter 34 Patton
PATTON
Through the glass walls of our offices, Winnie catches my eye and smiles.
It’s not her usual sunshine-bright smile. This one is softer, slightly sad around the edges. The restaurant closure is hitting her hard, like her heart buckles under the loss, weighed down as if carrying all fifty-plus pounds of my turnout gear over rough terrain.
I want to go over there. Pull her into my arms. Assure her that everything will work out. It has to, right?
Instead, I smile back and mouth, Coffee later?
She nods, then points at her watch. Meeting.
Right. Because we both have jobs and responsibilities and can’t just spend our days staring at each other through glass with hearts in our eyes.
Even if that’s exactly what I want to do.
Later, I have a meeting of my own and Austin snaps his fingers in front of my face. “You still with us?”
I blink. The crew is gathered in the station’s common room, discussing the Fireman’s Ball, which is tonight. Somehow, the weeks flew by, and now we’re hours away from the biggest fundraiser of the year.
“Yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?”
“Dates,” James says. “Austin is bringing his best friend. Scotty is going solo. Hayes is too, but remains optimistic.”
“I’m keeping my options open,” the rookie clarifies.
“And you?” Austin asks.
All five pairs of eyes land on me.
“What?” I ask.
“Are you bringing Winnie?” Hayes asks.
Am I? We’ve been … whatever we are … for months now. Stolen moments, coffee deliveries, late-night texts that light me up. But I never officially asked her to be my date.
How did I fail at this crucial detail?
“I need to ask her properly,” I mutter.
“You’d better do it fast. The clock is ticking,” Austin says.
Hayes waggles his eyebrows. “If you don’t—”
“Don’t you dare.”
“So you’re telling her about the bet first, right?” Reese asks.
James leans forward. “Before you ask her to be your date?”
My stomach drops. The bet. The stupid, idiotic bet that started this whole mess. “I’ll tell her.”
The guys exchange dubious looks as if they don’t believe me.
“Your funeral,” Austin mutters.
Mid-afternoon, we get called out for a wellness check on an elderly man who sometimes forgets to charge his phone, sending his granddaughters into a panic.
He’s fine, but we did have to force entry. Turns out he just had his hearing aids out while napping, sending his toy poodle into a barking fit and hiding under the basement crawlspace. It was a whole thing.
As we’re leaving, I catch myself thinking about how much I want to tell Winnie about this. I wonder if she’s a cat or dog person. Does she like pets? Did she and her brother have one when growing up? There’s so much I want to say, to ask. So little I know.
The thought stops me cold.
Not just wanting to share the story. Needing to. Like my day isn’t complete until I’ve told her about it, heard her laugh, seen her eyes light up. Listen to her answer my questions, hear her talk about herself.
It’s official. I’m in love with her and want her to be my date.
After my shift, I head over to Crush Cakes to do inventory.
James is there, moving fifty-pound bags of flour and I chip in, welcoming the mindless work.
When we’re done, he slides onto a stool. “Talk to me, Mav.”
“About what?”
“About whatever is making you count the same box of sprinkles three times.”
Having returned to my original inventory task, I set down my clipboard. “I’m in love with her.”
“Yeah, we know.”
“You know?”
“Brother, we’ve known for weeks. You either had a brain transplant or you’re in love. It’s not exactly subtle. So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know how to be in love. How do you do it?” After all, he’s married.
Knee bouncing, he says, “You run into burning buildings for a living.”
“That’s different. I know how to control fire.”
“You can’t control love, man. That’s the point.”
I take a long inhale. “My dad loved my mom. Then he died and destroyed her.”
James is quiet for a moment. “Or maybe he loved her so completely that even though it ended in grief, she’d choose him again.”
The words hit differently than I expected.
“You think so?”
“I know. Your mother talks about your dad like he’s her hero. Losing him hurt. But having him? I can only believe that was worth it.”
I sputter, “She talks about my—?”
“Of course, he’s a legend,”
“Until recently, she hadn’t talked to me about him for almost twenty-five years.”
“Maybe because she thought it would upset you.”
Before I can respond, the door opens.
Winnie walks in, and my entire body blazes. She’s wearing stylish, fitted jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, her hair in loose waves, and her lips are the shade of a rose petal. She looks beautiful and exactly like home. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”
“Just leaving.” James stands, winks at me, and disappears before I can stop him.
She fidgets with the strap of her bag. “I wanted to show you something.” I wanted to ask her something. Tell her something.
She pulls out a couple of old pictures. It takes me a second to recognize the Fourth of July parade from when I was a kid, followed by one from Halloween. My father looms large in his dress uniform, Captain Kendrick beside him, and me in my ridiculous toy firefighter costume.
My throat tightens. “Where did you find these?”
“Grandma Joyce must’ve taken it at the parade years ago. I found them in her photo albums. Also this one.”
The third one is of my dad, mom, and me at the Founders Festival. My eyes prickle.
Winnie’s voice is soft and she glances at the wall, covered in photos detailing Huckleberry Hill and its legacy. “I thought maybe you’d want these.”
I can’t speak. Can only stare at the photo of a little boy who thought his dad was invincible. That his family would be forever.
“Patton?” She touches my arm gently.
“Thank you,” I manage.
Oreo chooses that moment to trot over and sit at Winnie’s feet, leaning against her legs like she’s his favorite person in the world.
Me too, boy. Me too.
She laughs, scratching behind his ears as he sniffs her pocket. She pulls out a dog biscuit. “I’m bribing my way into his heart.”
“Smart strategy.”
We’re both smiling now, the moment lighter.
At the reminder of a dress uniform, I gather courage. “I know I should have done this already, but will you be my date to the Fireman’s Ball tonight? Officially?”
“Officially?” Her smile could illuminate the entire town.
“Winnie, will you officially be my date?”
She bounces a little. “Yes. Definitely yes.”
I grin as relief washes through me. “Yeah?”
“I’d love to.”
I want to kiss her. Want to pull her close and tell her everything—the bet, my feelings, all of it. But before I can, my radio crackles to life.
“Engine Seven, on Meadowbrook. Structure fire. Smoke showing.”
Adrenaline quickly replaces the relief. I drop a kiss onto her cheek. “I have to go.”
“I know. Be safe.”
I head toward danger, thinking about what I risk every single day and wonder if love is really the scariest thing I face.
The call to Meadowbrook was a false alarm—a garage band was testing a “smoke machine,” and a concerned neighbor was convinced the place had gone up in a blaze.
But by the time I get home, I only have twenty minutes to shower, dress, and get to the Ball.
Winnie had to be there early to help orchestrate things, otherwise, I’d pick her up.
I lay out my dress uniform with a navy blue jacket and trousers, a white shirt, and polished shoes, along with a few medals for occasions exactly like this.
After a shower, I shave and barely recognize the man looking back at me in the mirror. Nervous. Hopeful. In love.
Tonight, I’m telling Winnie everything. She’ll either forgive me or hate me. Hopefully, not that, but at least she’ll know.
When I arrive in the community room, it’s completely transformed.
Winnie’s vision is executed perfectly—a woven tapestry of string lights lines the ceiling, creating a starry night effect, white and silver décor provide festive accents, and the dessert station features Crush Cakes.
It’s elegant and warm, inviting and impressive.
The crew gathers near the entrance, all of us in dress garb. We look like actual adults instead of soot-covered firefighters. Then the doors open and guests start arriving.
I watch for Winnie like a hawk, waiting. Nerves firing. Hands clammy.
And then she appears.
My breath catches.
She wears the deep red gown that I only saw briefly at the boutique.
I was captivated before, but right now, it makes her look like she stepped out of a dream.
Her long hair is down and wavy, she’s dewy, wearing minimal makeup, and stunning.
Miss Nevada is right … or the future Mrs. Cross. A guy can dream.
Our eyes meet across the room.
She smiles—nervous, hopeful, beautiful.
I can’t smile back. I’m too overwhelmed, too terrified, too in love. But I cross the room to her.
“You look beautiful,” I say when I clasp her hands.
She blushes. “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.”
We look each other over with so much unspoken between us.
“The venue is incredible. You did an amazing job.”
“I had a great partner. We did amazing. It was a team effort.”
I want to kiss her right here in front of everyone. Instead, I ask, “Save me a dance?”
“All of them, if you want.”
“I do.”
The Ball begins with Mayor Barbie’s speech (outrageously long), followed by recognition for the firefighters (mercifully short). Our crew stands as our names are called, accepting applause.
Then we take a moment of silence for fallen firefighters, including Dad and Captain Kendrick. I keep my gaze down, but I feel Winnie watching for the pain and pride to war within me, but instead, for the first time, I feel something close to peace.
Dinner service follows. Winnie and I sit at the head table as event organizers, side by side, hyperaware of every accidental touch. Our knees bump, the outer edge of our hands brush, and our gazes mingle.