“Did you like it?”
A server appears before he can answer. “Have you had a chance to look over the menu?” She smiles between us.
Maxen seems to wait for me to give my order before he does the same. I like that about him. He’s polite, but there’s an intensity to him that I can’t quite figure out yet.
“So, what brought you here?” It’s his turn to take a drink of his beer.
“My grams passed away a few years ago, and she left me her coffee shop.” As sad as I was to lose her, I’ve loved what she’s given me.
“That the one Hale and Dorian are always bragging on?” His expression is playful.
“I sure hope so.”
The rest of the evening unfolds much the same. We chat, laugh, and by the time dessert is finished, we’ve both agreed that it felt like old friends catching up. There’s no attraction between us but a fondness that could have a chance to grow into friendship.
With a promise to stop into The Cup this week, Maxen kisses my cheek before opening my car door and letting me head home.
As soon as I’m in the driveway, my phone goes off. It’s Laken. I didn’t give her much about my date with Torque, and it’s driving her crazy. The truth is, I don’t know what to make of it either.
Maybe he’s waiting on me to ask him out?
CHAPTER 2
Torque
I KNOW WHAT I HAVE TO DO.
I should have fucking asked her out again. Immediately. I shouldn’t have left jack shit to chance when it came to Ophelia. Instead, I kept quiet about her meeting up with my brother’s friend, and I’ve been miserable ever since.
We’ve talked or texted nearly every day in the week since our time together, and neither of us has mentioned going out again. I regret it so much that it burns a hole in my gut.
When Hale approached me about the date, I’d been hesitant because I hadn’t been interested in a relationship, settling down, or anything else that looked like commitment.
And not because I’m afraid of it.
But I see what he and Laken have, and I am at the age where I should fucking want that as well. I just hadn’t expected it to come from a blind date.
I’d spoken with Ophelia a few times in the past, gone to her coffee shop a couple of times, too, and the idea of asking her out had crossed my mind on every single occasion. But I hadn’t wanted to step over that line with my new sister-in-law. Her life wasn’t easy before meeting Hale, and Ophelia has become a considerable part of her new existence. If things had gone sideways between her and me, she’s right, she’d have been the one who felt pushed out because I was Hale’s brother, and I wasn’t about to be the reason for that.
Now, though, things are different. I’ve all but been given permission to pursue her, and I’ll be taking advantage of that. Getting to know her one-on-one without any buffer has opened my eyes.
The woman is kind, thoughtful, sassy as hell, and loves the beach about as much as I do. It’s why I’d taken her on a simple date. The boardwalk had everything we could need, including the beach, and despite the heat and humidity frizzling her hair, she didn’t mind. Laughed about it being part of living here.
It’s been a constant internal battle in regard to asking her out. The only reason I haven’t is because she had this last date to go on, and I need her to choose me. I need her to want to spend more time with me, and part of me is worried she won’t.
I’ve had a couple of serious girlfriends in the past, and they all say the same thing: I’m too in love with the job to be husband material.
It’s bullshit, I know that, but it lingers in my mind. It’s got me gun-shy and nervous Ophelia will say the same thing. I work twenty-four-hour shifts, and I’m often out of touch during those times because I don’t like being distracted. I’ve seen plenty of men and women make workplace mistakes due to drama at home. I don’t want to be one of them.
Checking my phone, I’m aware Ophelia is probably still with that other guy. A fucking cop. He might prove to be competition, but I was hoping she’d be done by now. With five minutes before needing to be at the firehouse, I shoot her a quick message.
Me: About to start a 24 shift, talk to you tomorrow.
I always tell her when I’m working. I don’t want her to think I’m ignoring her when I don’t answer back.
Philly: Stay safe. Talk soon.
She’d laughed so hard when I gave her the nickname. Having been raised in Philadelphia, I thought it was fitting.
I know that once I’m done with my shift, I’ll have at least three more messages from her. One on accident because she forgets how long the shifts are, another of a funny story from work or the beach, and another will be a picture of some delight she’s made just for me and encouraging me to pick it up before I head home to crash.
We’ve done this three times now, and it’s been the same each day I work. After the first time, I told her I looked forward to her messages when I finished my rotation.
As much as I would like to ask about her date, I don’t. I don’t have the time to obsess over whether it went well or straight into the gutter, and if I’ll need to kick the guy’s ass for being a dick to her like the first two before me.
“Decker!” my battalion chief’s voice calls from the parking lot entrance when he sees me. “Get your ass in here.” Oh shit. If he’s swearing, it’s never a good thing.
“Coming, Chief!” I knew he was supposed to be here today, but there hasn’t been much talk about why. Firehouse 69 is one of the best in the city. We get shit done without the usual bullshit that goes along with thinking you’re the best and knowing it. We don’t just fuck around during our downtime, we train, then we train some more. There’s always room for improvement, and we strive to do better during every shift.
“You know what this is about, Lieu?” Our engineer strides up behind me. Kai Watson has been here as long as I have. He trained down in Orlando but abruptly transferred up here. Nobody knows why.
“You’re guess is as good as mine.” Clapping him on the back, I shoot him an encouraging smile as we enter the building. Finding some of our fellow brothers in the conference room already, we drop our gear on our bunks and join them.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what’s going on.” The chief enters the room and pauses at the front. “The firefighter’s ball is being moved up a month because of venue conflicts, and our very own Lieutenant Torque Decker is being honored for his quick thinking at the Hamptons fire two months ago that could have turned explosive instead of just being destructive.” A round of applause goes around the room as I sit in stunned silence.
“That was the whole team, sir,” I point out, but everyone ignores my protests.
Caleb Kelly, our house captain and one of my oldest friends, slaps my back. “Take it, bud. If not for you, that building would have been rubble and the same with every single structure surrounding it. You did good, Decker. Let us celebrate you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I realize I won’t win this argument. The idea was mine, but without my team, it would never have been possible. “Do I get to bring a date?” What I wouldn’t give to have Ophelia on my arm that night.