Mr. February (13 page)
“Maybe it’s time you took deeper look at yourself and what you want.”
Chapter Eighteen
‡
O
utside Rafe’s place, all was dark and silent. Not even the first birds stirring—too damn early to get up, especially on a Friday.
He’d never considered himself a deep thinker, especially about his own stuff, and after a restless night spent turning Adam’s unasked-for advice around his mind, he had yet to figure out a damn thing. Or sleep.
Giving up on both, he left his bed. Bleary-eyed and sorely in need of caffeine, he padded downstairs. He let Calvin into the back yard, started a pot of coffee, dumped a can of dog food into Calvin’s bowl, and let him back in.
The Vizsla wolfed down his meal – then licked his lips and looked to Rafe with a
what’s next
expression.
“Give me a break,” Rafe muttered.
It’d be several hours before the morning paper arrived, but no big—at the moment, he had zero interest in reading. Too unsettled to sit and wait for the coffeemaker to do its thing, he prowled around the main floor, Calvin obediently at his side.
“It’s this thing with Jillian,” he explained, questioning his sanity for sharing his problems with his dog. But with his ears cocked forward, the animal appeared to be listening. “For the life of me, I can’t let go of her and move on. I’m driving myself crazy.”
The coffeemaker finally gurgled to a stop. Rafe filled a mug and set it on the breakfast bar. Suddenly hungry, he grabbed a bowl, a box of cereal, and a half-gallon of milk from the fridge. Moments later, he plunked onto a barstool and dug in.
Two cups of coffee and three bowls of cereal later, he’d filled his belly. Oddly, he still felt empty.
Wearing an expectant expression, Calvin sat on his haunches at Rafe’s feet, silently inviting him to say more.
Rafe rubbed his chest. “There’s a hole in here, and I don’t know how to fill it.”
His steadfast pal did his version of a canine eye roll and tossed his head.
“You think I’m in love with Jillian.” Rafe scoffed. “You’re as bad as Adam. You both know me better than that. I don’t do love.”
The dog scrambled up, trotted toward the back door where his leash hung on a hook, and barked at it.
Rafe frowned. “Nope, we’re not going to her place to talk. She isn’t there. She’s at the Arts Festival in Medford.”
Stubborn gaze still pinned on the leash, Calvin let out a soft whine.
“If you think I’m going to drive ninety miles one way for a conversation, think again. Anyway, she’ll be way too busy for us.”
Yet despite the objections Rafe voiced, he seriously considered making the drive. Which showed how off his game he was.
Serious—that’s what Adam had labeled the Jillian situation. Rafe had to agree, even if he didn’t want to feel so strongly about anyone and had never expected to.
As for the trust thing he’d blurted out on the patio… Still shaking his head, he slid off the stool, loaded his dishes into the dishwasher, and put away the cereal and milk.
He wanted to keep seeing Jillian, but she wouldn’t allow him back into her life unless he bought into her dream—a ring on her finger and the whole nine yards that came with it. Commitment and marriage and kids.
“Except for Grandma Donato and a couple of teachers, I didn’t think I would ever trust a woman,” he confessed to Calvin. “But Jillian… There’s nothing flaky about her. She’s loyal to her brother. No matter what, she has his back. If I let her, she’d have mine, too. Kind of like my crewmates at the fire department.”
Only different. Warmer and a whole lot sweeter. “She’s always been straight with me, sharing her thoughts and feelings, regardless of the consequences,” he went on. “She’s amazing, all right—one in a million.”
Calvin nodded.
But could Rafe make the kind of commitment Jillian deserved?. Having never pictured himself as a husband or a father, he found the idea intimidating.
Yet, here he was, considering it. Spooked, he shoved his hands into his pockets, glanced unseeing at the kitchen floor, and then began to pace the room.
Damn, he was confused…
His cursed dog bumped against his leg and stared up at him. “I’m no coward, so quit giving me that look,” Rafe warned in his sternest tone.
Calvin appeared unruffled, his gaze never wavering.
“I’ve had it with you and your accusations,” Rafe grumbled. “You’re going outside again, and I’m heading upstairs to shower, shave, and get dressed. And, yeah, figure out what I want.”
*
All that thinking led to Rafe showing up at the Medford Fairgrounds some hours later. He still wasn’t sure why he’d come or exactly what he wanted, only that he needed to see Jillian and talk with her. He’d figure out what to say then.
With live music, mouthwatering aromas filling the air from the food booths and tons of people with money to spend, the Arts Festival was in full swing. Pulling Calvin to a stop, he studied the map provided when he’d paid his admission fee. Jillian’s booth was smack in the middle of the action—the ideal place to draw in lots of customers.
Between the milling crowds and the distractions pulling Calvin in the wrong direction, it took a while to reach her booth. Some half a dozen people looked over her pieces, with five more lined up to pay for purchases. Wearing a wide grin, Chelsea handed a young couple a carefully wrapped parcel and receipt. At the opposite end of the counter, Jillian engaged in conversation with two middle-aged women.
Taking advantage of the moment, he drank in the sight of her. Tall and lovely, her face animated and alive. So beautiful, this woman he loved.
Love.
The word clicked into his mind and settled in, as if it belonged there, and suddenly, everything felt right.
With absolute, deep-in-his-soul clarity, Rafe knew he loved Jillian and understood that he always would. Awed, he shook his head.
At last, if sensing his gaze, she looked straight at him. Startled, confused.
His.
And just like that, his formerly empty chest expanded, growing full to bursting. The slow, goofy grin he’d scorned Adam for bloomed on his own face.
“Excuse me,” he said, pushing through the line. He hopped over the counter—not so easy, but with years of firefighting training behind him, doable.
Her eyebrows jumped comically up her forehead. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to have a word with you—privately. Chelsea, will you take over and watch Calvin?”
All eyes, the girl nodded. “Sure, Rafe.”
Jillian dug in her heels. “I’m kind of busy here.” She gestured at the waiting crowd. “Can this wait?”
“Nope.”
She clamped her lips together, showing him what she thought of his reply. “It’ll have to. Just now, I’m not going anyplace.”
“You want me to do this here?”
“How am I supposed to answer that, when I have no idea why you’re crowding Chelsea and me in our booth.”
“Fine. We’ll do it here. I miss you.”
“You drove ninety miles to say that?” Jillian crossed her arms and eyed him. “Your timing is a little off.”
Yeah,
I miss you
did sound lame. “Sometimes it takes a while for me to get things through this thick skull of mine. But when I do…” Rafe rubbed the back of his neck. “The thing is…”
The area had grown quiet, shoppers all eyes, waiting for what happened next. As if he and Jillian were starring in some spectator sport. Not exactly optimal, but now that he knew what he wanted, he wouldn’t let a bunch of nosy people get in his way.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he said. “And I realize I…” He had to stop and swallow past the lump in his throat. “I love you.”
Jillian’s jaw dropped. “But you don’t fall in love.”
“Apparently I do.”
“Are you sure?”
“More than I’ve ever been about anything.”
The stunned look on her face was priceless. And a little off-putting. The feelings she had for him must not be as strong as he’d figured. “You’re not happy about this,” he said, crestfallen.
“You have that all wrong. Buy why couldn’t have wait to tell me until after the festival?”
Rafe didn’t understand. “I don’t follow.”
“Then I could show you in private exactly how I feel. Because I love you, too.”
She loved him.
He teared up and quickly swiped his eyes. “Then you’ll be my girl? There’s a future in it for you. For us.”
When they were home again, he would take her out to Guff’s Lake and kiss her under the ash tree. Sealing their life together.
“I’ll be your girl and then some.” Jillian twined her arms around his neck.
Holding back none of the warmth crowding his chest, he kissed her. When he let her go, she wore the dreamy look he’d come to expect. To adore.
Everyone applauded.
“You should get back to work,” he said gruffly.
“Back?” She looked confused.
“To all these patient customers.”
“Right. Where can I find you later?”
“I’ll let you know as soon as I get a room for you, me and Calvin. You don’t mind staying in your own room, do you, Chelsea?”
The girl’s smile filled her face. “Not at all.”
“You’ll never find a room,” Jillian said. “With the festival, all the hotels and motels are booked up.”
“I know most of the firefighters in the Rogue Valley. Let me make some calls. Bye, babe.”
“Bye.” A love-filled smile lit her face. “I love you, Rafe.”
“Back at ya.”
He gave the gawkers a thumbs up and stepped into the brilliant day.
THE END
Thank you for letting me share my stories with you!
There are 12 sexy firefighter books planned for my
Heroes of Rogue Valley: Calendar Guys
series
Click on the covers below to learn more:
If you enjoyed
MR. FEBRUARY
, help others find this book by recommending it to your friends on
Goodreads
and by writing a review on
Kobo
. If you would like to know when my next release is available, sign up for my newsletter here:
www.annroth.net
.
Visit me at Facebook
facebook.com/AnnRothAuthorPage
Follow me on Twitter
@Ann_Roth
Email me at
[email protected]
Visit my website
www.annroth.net
Thanks, and until next time,
Ann
Coming soon – Mr. March!
Gus Viggio is a firefighter with a mission: Convince the aging great aunt who raised him that it’s time to give up her house and move into a retirement home. But she won’t listen. Flamboyant hairstylist Wanda Lipmann is just the woman to talk sense into her. Wanda and Gus are friends, period. Both have been burned in love and neither is ready to venture into those dangerous waters again. But sometimes what the heart wants overpowers the mind…
