Page 34 of Fire and Icing (The Firemen of Waterford TN #1)

Emberleigh

Overthinking is the art of creating problems

that weren't even there.

~ Dr. Nina Ansary

“I’m just wondering what he meant by, It’s getting harder to pretend ,” I ask Syd the following evening after closing.

I’m curled up on one end of her couch and she’s tucked into this dangling chair she insisted on bolting to the ceiling when she moved in. I always tease her that she looks like she’s inside an egg when she sits in it. I tried getting into it once and it spun and tipped and wobbled.

“Did Dustin mean he has feelings for me so he’s not pretending anymore? Or did he mean pretending is getting too complicated?” I glance at Syd.

Syd looks a little more bedraggled than usual. Not worn out, just … pleasantly exhausted, if that’s such a thing.

“Don’t take this wrong, but you look tired,” I tell her.

“Gee thanks,” she says with a smile. “I didn’t sleep great.”

“Are you okay?” I ask. “I’ve been so wound up over Dustin and the contest, I haven’t even checked in on you.”

“I’m fine.”

I kneel on the cushions to grab a throw pillow from the other end of the couch. When I glance down, I see a hoodie in a lump on the ground behind the sofa. I stretch out across the top of the cushions, reach down and grab the hoodie.

Syd rushes over and whisks it away, saying, “Oh, what’s that doing here? I was just cleaning out my closet. Sorry it was in the way.”

“It wasn’t in the way, Syd. It was literally on the floor behind the sofa. Is that even yours? It looks about three sizes too big for you.”

“Yep. It’s mine. You haven’t seen it because it’s old. Anyway, back to the does he, doesn’t he question about Dustin …”

I know when I’m being corralled, but Syd obviously doesn’t want to talk about Mr. Mysterious …

or whatever’s been going on lately. I believe it’s a man, not a meme or whatever mumbo-jumbo she was trying to sell me over our phone call during the contest. And now there’s a sweatshirt.

Also, the giggling. I can definitely make Syd laugh, but not that particular giggle.

She had a smitten giggle if I ever heard one.

“Are you seeing someone?” I ask her directly.

“What? Why would you ask that? You’re the one seeing someone. Now, do you want my opinion on your fake boyfriend or not?”

Again with the redirect.

I sigh. “Yes. I do.”

“I think Dustin likes you. The way he looks at you … always seeks you out … took a week of his life off to go support you … that dance last night … dedicating a song to you about waiting for love? Yep. He’s got it bad.

” She nods her head definitively. “So, you might ask, why doesn’t a man who has all those feelings, a man as bold as Dustin, ask the woman out if he’s interested?

” She raises her brows and widens her eyes in my direction. “Well, I’m glad you asked.”

“I didn’t.”

She scoffs. “He’s afraid to make a move because you have made it abundantly clear you don’t want him to.

He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place—I’m not sure if you’re the rock or the hard place in this scenario, but the bottom line is, if you like him, you’re going to have to step out of that cozy little comfort zone of yours and take a chance on Dustin.

By the way you look at him, I know you want to. ”

“Maybe.”

Syd rolls her eyes. “No maybe about it.”

I spend the rest of the evening at Syd’s.

All the way home I think about her advice, or whatever you want to call it.

Truth bombs. She’s like a skilled tactical pilot deploying missiles at her target.

And she simply flies off into the great blue yonder while I sift through the rubble.

But I wouldn’t have it any other way. A friend who doesn’t tell you the deepest truths you need to hear—whether you like it or not—isn’t a true friend.

When I get home, I grab my Kindle and a cup of tea and wait in the living room for Dustin to come home. It’s after ten when I finally remember he’s working a twenty-four hour shift. He won’t be home until after seven in the morning. And I’ll be at the bakery by then.

I only get four and a half hours of sleep.

I’d call Syd and ask her to cover opening the shop so I could get at least another half-hour of rest, but the camera crew from Plated Network is coming today to film a behind the scenes “candid” video as a part of what they’ll intersperse into the episodes.

We’ll be back on the estate in two days to film the finale when they’ll announce the winner live.

I’m serving customers and trying to avoid the chronic awareness of cameras when the bell over the shop door tinkles.

Vanessa walks in with an all-knowing look on her face.

“Hello, everyone,” she greets the cameramen and production team. “So good to see you all again.”

“Can we get you anything, Vanessa?” Syd asks.

“No. Don’t mind me. I’ll just be over here at a table, watching the festivities.”

She’s probably here to soak up the spotlight and stir up a little behind-the-scenes drama.

Classic Vanessa. I can’t exactly ask her to leave while I’m being filmed, so I force what I hope is a friendly grin in her direction and then I get back to work.

The camera crew stays for over an hour and then they tell me they’re meeting Dustin at the station.

“It’s his day off,” I inform them.

“He’s coming in to meet us there,” one of the crew members tells me. “We need to get additional footage of a few things we missed during our first visit.”

The camera crew packs up and heads out, Vanessa lingers, then falls into step behind them—like she’s got a press pass.

She doesn’t. But that’s not stopping her from weaving her way into the group, all casual-like, as if she's earned the right to tag along. She’s always had a talent for slipping in uninvited.

Syd and I exchange the same heavily-weighted look we’ve shared since elementary school.

“If you want to suddenly set something on fire, I wouldn’t blame you,” Syd says under her breath. “I know a fireman …”

I chuckle. “Thank goodness for you.”

“What? Because I’m a hobby arsonist?”

“Because you have my back.”

“I do. And please, always remember that.”

There’s something serious in the undercurrent behind her words, like a woman recently diagnosed with a serious illness.

I almost ask her if she’s okay again, but she already gave me the only answer I’m going to get. When she’s ready to tell me what’s really going on, she will.

Dustin and I haven’t crossed paths much since the evening I spent at Syd’s. It’s been a crazy week and our schedules have never aligned. I want to talk to him—need to, actually. I’m not sure where this is heading, but I know I have to stop dancing around my feelings for him.

I wake early so we can get on the road with a little time to spare.

I’m in the kitchen pouring coffee when the basement door opens and he walks through.

I may never get used to his size and the way he fills a room with his presence.

It’s not merely physical. He’s just … here.

Unavoidable. Demanding attention, but not in a way that’s overbearing.

He definitely overwhelms me. I’m off balance, and yet he also steadies me in a way no one ever has.

“Morning,” he says, smiling this adorable half-smile.

“Morning. Want coffee?”

He sticks his arm out toward me as if I’m about to draw blood. “Got an I.V.?”

I laugh. “No. But I’ve got a thirty-two ounce tumbler.”

“I’d better go with my usual cup. I don’t want to be jittery at the finale.”

I grab a large mug out of the cabinet. “How about a happy middle ground?”

“Perfect.” Dustin takes the mug from my hand and reaches for the pot of coffee I brewed.

He smells like shampoo and cologne and I want to burrow my head in his neck and snuggle with him all day.

At the contest, I fell asleep on him. I kissed him!

We never fully talked about what any of that means.

Now is definitely not the time. Maybe on the drive home.

I step out of his way.

“I brought home muffins.” I look into his eyes and he looks outright mischievous. “Don’t say it …”

“Muffins?” he winks.

“The food. I brought muffins from the bakery. Would you like one? Of the baked goods?”

“I’d love one.”

I open the box and extend it in his direction. He takes one muffin, but eyes the rest.

“Take another,” I encourage him. “You’re eating for two.”

He cracks up. “Eating for two?”

“Two regular sized guys.”

I blush. He laughs. I want to step in and wrap my arms around him.

I can’t say what’s happening to me, or when the thaw began.

But every time Dustin looks at me, I feel something shifting—it came slowly at first, like spring sneaking up on the arctic.

The kind of warmth that doesn’t ask permission.

The glow just rises on the horizon, lingering, bringing a season of prolonged daylight.

The long night I’ve lived in feels like a faint memory.

His constant smiles and laughter cracked through my defenses like the sun’s rays breaking glaciers—warm, steady, penetrating.

He’s as inevitable as the seasons. And I’m as defenseless as the snow under his gaze.

“Ready to hit the road?” Dustin asks, completely oblivious to my mental tailspin.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m ready.”

He taps my temple with his pointer finger. “So much going on up here at such an early hour of the day.”

“How do you know? My mind might be completely empty. I’m a zen monk for all you know.”

I keep my face stoic.

Dustin dangles his keys and jingles them.

He starts to walk ahead of me out of the kitchen toward the back door.

He looks over his shoulder and says, “There’s this look you get—pensive and focused.

I can almost see the gears spinning and the smoke getting ready to exit your ears.

That’s when I know, she’s overthinking something. ”

He smiles nonchalantly as if he didn’t just read my tea leaves, and then he turns to walk out the door.