3. Wyatt
Wyatt
F reya Fredericks is back, and it’s about time.
I’m still processing seeing my best friend for the first time in a year when I walk into the firehouse with lunch from the Red Bird.
We’ve both had crazy, intense schedules this past twelve months, which didn’t allow either of us any time to catch up, except by text or a quick call here and there to check in.
But now here she is, back home. And not only does she look amazing, but she feels amazing, too.
It’s been a while since I wrapped my arms around anyone, and man if she doesn’t smell like heaven and sunshine sprinkled with vanilla cupcakes.
“Did you get me a pastrami on rye, Hogan?”
Shaken from my daydream, I reach into the bag, stamped with the familiar red bird logo from our favorite cafe, and toss the small parcel across the lounge area to the person requesting it. “You bet, Jay Dub.” He snatches it out of the air and nods his gratitude.
The firehouse is quiet today, with a few of our full-time staff taking midday naps in the bunks upstairs.
My big news this year is that I became a probie—a probationary firefighter— at the Lake Lorelei Fire Department.
The firehouse usually has six full-time staff, three part-timers—which includes me—and a rotating roster of local volunteers that vary in numbers depending on the time of year.
This week, though, is always a special case.
Lake Lorelei likes to have a week of events around the Fourth of July.
Everything is planned with the aim to bring in tourists to our town, which it does and then some.
It’s a time of year when our population almost doubles in size, at least for a week, so we have more of us scheduled at the fire station than normal.
Scanning the room, I find an empty spot on the couch next to Jay Dub, one of our senior part-timers, who is focused on his pastrami sandwich at the moment. “Man, Maisey’s homemade bread is the best. Thanks, Hogan.”
“Pleasure’s all mine. Does it get me out of parade duty this week?”
“No way, probie.” Jack chuckles as he struts into the lounge and joins us. “I’ll need you to shine up the fire trucks before you leave today, as well as check equipment and run any checks for safety.”
“Got it, Captain. Anything else I can do to help?” Being a probie, I’m well-versed in my daily duties; my running checklist is always a work in progress, with the Captain adding to it as needed each shift.
I’ll admit that some days I feel as if the weight of the station is on my shoulders, but my jobs are important for the overall safety of my team.
My goal: to be off probation—and all going well, I’ll be promoted to full-time firefighter when my six-month period ends in just a few weeks’ time.
“Not right now.” Jack tips his head in thanks as he walks out of the room. “By the way, you’re doing well, Wyatt. I see you showing up early for your shifts here and introducing yourself around town to tourists and locals. Keep up the good work. ”
Smug, I wait until the door is closed before spinning to face Dubby, holding my hand palm side up. “You owe me twenty bucks. Pay up.”
Dubby chokes on his laughter between bites. “You’re holding me to that?”
“You said I’d be gone in the first three months. Got ya, sucker!”
Dubby reaches into his back pocket, pulling his wallet out and then a crisp, new twenty-dollar bill. “Here, don’t spend it all in one place…unless you plan on spending it on Maisey’s niece. In that case, I’d suggest hitting up the ATM, son, and making sure you can take her to a nice dinner.”
“Who? Freya?” Was he nuts? I shake my head. “In your dreams, Dub. She’s a good friend.”
“Yeah, I know those kinds of friends,” the old man says with a growl, wiggling his eyebrows and treating me to an overly expressive wink.
“Freya’s different. I’ve known her since we were little kids.” I cock my head to one side before leaning over and play-punching Dub’s arm. “You trying to stir up trouble?”
“Well…” Dub screws up his face. “I happened to stop by the Red Bird to drop off something to Jack. I saw your reunion, and now I’m a witness to the look on her face when she saw you. Trust me, she was not looking at you like you were friend material.”
I couldn’t have held my laughter in if I had tried. “You couldn’t be more wrong. I know that girl, and she has never given me a second look, at least not in that way. Why would she start now?”
Dub stands up and lifts one shoulder, as if shrugging my question away. “You’ve got a point.”
Reaching out for ammo, I grab the closest thing, a newspaper, and wing it at Dub’s back as he strolls out of the room chuckling to himself. Only now he’s got me thinking .
Was Freya flirting with me?
I’ve always had this connection with Freya, but to entertain the thought she may be flirting back finally?
No way. I shake my head as I polish off my food and make my way out to the main hangar where the trucks are stored.
I pinch back a groan. There was so much stainless steel and chrome adorning the two large rigs, all needing to be polished to parade perfection.
It’s a big job, but it has to be done. It’s something we have to take care of on a regular basis to aid in the longevity of the trucks, but the July Fourth parade was the day for the trucks to sparkle and shine.
Walking over to the closest cupboard, I reach in and pull out a cleaning box filled to the brim with rags and products for buffing. Experience has now taught me that this is a time when I can find peace in my day and let my mind wander.
And I know exactly what I’m going to think about today.
Freya Fredericks.
If I’m to be honest, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have a small crush on that girl.
Of course, I talked myself out of it years ago.
Freya’s friendship is way more important than a stolen kiss on a summer night.
Plus, she stone-cold stopped me when I did try, and we ended up at the hospital with her getting stitches. Not the best look for me.
However, today after seeing her, I am questioning that choice.
The Freya I remember had a retainer. She was ridiculously clumsy.
She could keep up with me when we raced our bikes, but braking was an issue.
If memory serves, she couldn’t brake when we were on roller skates either, so the girl has problems stopping.
She also has this way about her, where she bites her lower lip when she’s thinking.
It’s a little nuance which I’ve always thought in the past made her look pretty.
Only today when she did it, I didn’t think it looked pretty at all.
Nope, not one bit. In fact, the word pretty wasn’t even on my radar .
It was sexy. She was sexy. Like, the kind of sexy where I wanted to lean in and bite her lip for her…but I can’t. It’s Freya, and she friend-zoned me so fast that night oh-so-many years ago that I think I’m still recovering from the whiplash.
Thinking back now, I realize I’ve had it bad for her for years.
I thought by hanging out with her all the time, especially during our summer breaks, it would have shown her I was serious or maybe even gotten me a seat at the table, you know?
I even went so far as to take a job at her family’s cafe so I could work with her every day.
When she waited tables, I requested to be her busboy so we had the same shift, and Maisey always agreed.
Of course, when I went to kiss her as a young fifteen-year-old (she’s a bit older than me, the cougar), and ended up causing her face to be split open…
well, that kind of trauma doesn’t quickly go away.
She had to get stitches, thanks to one of my brackets being pulled off from a Now or Later I was sucking on.
Want to talk about being embarrassed? Yeah, explain that one to your friends.
I went to see her the next day to talk to her about it, but when I brought it up, she simply held up her hand and stopped me.
Gave me some line about how being friends is way more important, so I did what any teenager would do.
I gave her a six-pack of Cheerwine and a bouquet of flowers as a get better soon gift and we went back to being ourselves the next day.
Except for the bandage on her right cheek, you’d never have known anything was wrong. As luck would have it, my braces came off as soon as summer was over that year. It didn’t matter. I had been shuffled to the spot where good guy friends go to…stay. I’m the friend without benefits.
And because she was the person I liked to hang out with, I wasn’t going to do anything but agree. I didn’t want to lose her, so I decided then and there I was going to take what I could get for as long as I could humanly stand it .
I take the shammy and begin polishing the chrome on the front bumper of the big rig.
The repetitive motion is soothing, almost hypnotic, and allows me the chance to zone out.
I start polishing like it’s a mission, but I’m trying to get her out of my head.
The curves of her waist were perfect, and I can still feel the warmth of her body as she pressed against me.
It’s marked on my senses and isn’t going anywhere, like the subtle scent of her perfume that’s managed to embed itself in my shirt.
But I can only see Freya’s face in front of me, smiling. Looking at me like she was seeing me differently.
That could not have been my imagination, could it?
“Yo, probie, you hear me?”
I turn and see Jack standing next to me with a weird expression on his face. “Sorry, Cap. What can I do for you?”
Jack has been a mentor to me, and I’m grateful for it.
He’s had a tough run in life, and Lake Lorelei is lucky we got him to leave Washington D.C.
to come run the fire station here. I started at the same time he took the job, so we’ve had a chance to bond.
You know, in the way guys do—we fish, go to baseball games, or eat. Pretty simple, really.
“Was just saying it would be great if you got at least one rig done today, no need to try for any more. I can get the other guys to finish what you don’t.” He eyes me. “Where’s your head? Still at the Red Bird?”
Was I that obvious? “No, sir. My head is straight as a pin, and I’m right here, present and accounted for.”
Jack chuckles and pats my shoulder. “Calm down. You’re not the first man to see a pretty girl and go all mushy. Just make sure you get your work done, okay?”
“Yes, sir.” I turn to give him a mock salute but find he’s already gone, like a flash, the same way he came in.
I swear, that guy is like a cat. He needs a bell around his neck so we know where he is.
Even Jack can see I’m pining for Freya. Freya, whose emerald green eyes can pull me in like I’m the Millenium Falcon and she’s the Death Star, but in a less tragic way.
Freya, the girl who always makes me laugh.
Freya, who was flirting back with me today, and man, did I like it. My body liked it, and so did my heart.
Seeing her today it became apparent—I love Freya Fredericks and always have.
And now she’s back, finally, and I heard through the Lake Lorelei rumor mill she might even be coming back for good.
The Fourth of July has always been her favorite part of the year. I know this because I know her. And all of my best memories from this holiday are by her side, usually on the dock at her grandmother’s house, watching the fireworks explode in the sky above.
If I’m going to get Freya to fall for me, this is the week to make it happen. To let her know I’m still right here and I’m not going anywhere.
This is the week I’m going to win her heart.