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Page 39 of Fire and Icing (The Firemen of Waterford TN #1)

Emberleigh

Small towns have a way of

making you feel like you belong,

like you're part of something bigger than yourself.

~ Unknown

“Dustin’s so crazy,” I say to Syd.

We’re closing up the shop at two today. There’s a barn dance at The Grange tonight and it’s the first of the season, so all the shops on Sweetwater and Mill Streets and around the town square shut down early.

Even the bank and the grocery stores close at four instead of five.

The streets are eerily empty. People stopped coming in over an hour ago.

“What’s he done this time?” she asks. Her tone isn’t bored, but it’s definitely tinged with an all-you-talk-about-is-Dustin edge to it.

“Never mind. Tell me something about you. I know I rattle on about him all day.”

“You’ve earned it. I love seeing you so happy. So, tell me. What did he do?”

“He asked me on a date last week, but he had the gig. So we postponed our actual date to tonight. Only he doesn’t want to do something simple like go to dinner. He wants a tour of Waterford.”

“Well, that’ll be the world’s shortest date in history. Unless you stop at Lover’s Peak.”

“Stop! We’re not in high school.”

“You could pretend you are …” She wags her brows exaggeratedly.

“Syd! We’re not. He wants me to show him around and tell him about my life here before he came on the scene.”

“Awww. That’s actually sweet.”

“I know. And then we’re going to get dinner, and afterward, we’ll show up at the dance.”

“You could eat at The Grange too. You know there’s a potluck before the dance.”

“And … no.”

“What do you mean? You don’t want to subject Dustin to the culinary prowess of the fine citizens of Waterford?”

“Three words for you: Skeeter’s hot chicken.”

Syd busts out laughing. “No!”

“Exactly. We checked around. The Waterford Pantry is still open tonight.”

“What? They’re open? That’s sacrilegious. Does the mayor know?”

“How should I know? All I know is that Dustin wants me to wear my green dress—again—and show him the town, and then we’re getting farm-to-table and then, to cap off the night, we’ll show up at The Grange.”

“Well, put a ring on that!” she jokes.

“Nobody’s putting a ring on anything. We’re just going on a tour of Waterford.”

“It’s sweet. And I love it for you. Hey?”

“Yeah?”

“No. Nothing.”

“What?”

“I just wanted to … ask if we have enough flour on backorder.”

“Flour? Our regular shipment? You wanted to know if it was coming in as it always does?”

“With strawberry season at its peak, we’ll be making more pies and … Yeah. I’m sure we’re covered. You just have a great night. Put all flour out of your mind.”

“As challenging as that sounds, I will set aside all thoughts of flour and focus on Dustin.”

Syd and I wrap up our closing routine and then I head home to clean up and change.

Yes. I’m wearing the green dress. I have other dresses and skirts.

I told him as much. He said that’s the one he wants to see again.

Who am I to say no? Especially when a man like him is so easily pleased by something as small as what dress I’m wearing.

Dustin’s truck is next to the house when I pull up.

My stomach does a happy flip. We’re definitely one of those couples who probably make everyone around us just a little sick of the way we can’t get enough of one another.

How did we get here? I was so dead set against dating.

Dead set against him . He persuaded me without even trying.

Gran’s in the kitchen when I walk through the front door.

“Hey, Sunshine! I’m in here!” she shouts.

“Hey, Gran. Are you going to the barn dance?”

“Is Jolene still beggin’?”

I laugh to myself and walk into the kitchen. “I imagine she is. Dolly never changed that line, so …”

“Well then, I’m going to the first barn dance of the summer. The day I miss a barn dance is the day I’m dancin’ with the good Lord himself. Otherwise, you’ll see me at the first barn dance every year until then. Now, grab the biscuits out of the oven for me, would ya?”

I pull on oven mitts and take the skillet of biscuits out. “Gran, this is barely enough to feed ten people.”

“I know. I know. The first ten will have themselves a treat. The rest’ll just have to make do.”

“With what?”

She opens the fridge door and I laugh. All three shelves have been taken over by a jello mold, banana pudding, and a giant metal bowl of potato salad.

“Okay. I guess they’ll make do.”

“Well, you know, Big Darryl’s been there since dawn with his smoke trailer and spit, cookin’ up all kinds of meat. I’m just pitchin’ in with a few sides.”

“You pitched in, alright.”

Dustin emerges from the basement looking like I’ve never seen him look before.

He’s wearing an army green button down cotton shirt.

It looks like it’s been ironed. He’s tucked the shirt into some dark wash jeans that also look pressed.

He’s wearing brown dress shoes and a belt to match, and his hair is fixed with some sort of product.

“Hey,” he says to me with that lingering glance he indulges in regularly now that we’re official.

Have I mentioned that actually dating Dustin is so much better than faking? Infinitely better. For one thing, he wasn’t kidding when he said he was affectionate. He makes his way across the kitchen to me. I feel like turning and running upstairs, fast.

“I just got off work! I’m a mess!” I protest.

“You don’t look like a mess to me.”

He glances at Gran as if he just realized we weren’t alone. “It smells delicious in here. What are you baking?”

“My famous biscuits. I just pulled a batch out of the oven. Sit over there at the dinette and I’ll butter one for you and drizzle some honey on it.”

“You better sit,” I advise Dustin. “She doesn’t just offer her biscuits to anyone. And these are warm.”

“Go on and join him,” Gran says. “And then you can go freshen up for your date.”

“How do you know about our date?” I foolishly ask.

“Everyone knows about your date. What else are we supposed to be talkin’ about?”

Gran takes two biscuits out of the pan and plates them. She loads them with butter and honey and sets the plate between us. Then she takes her other skillet out of the cupboard and fills it with dollops of cold batter out of the fridge.

“I thought people were going to have to make do?” I say around a bite of warm biscuit.

“They will. I’m just makin’ enough that I don’t have to hear too much complaining over supper.”

I glance over at Dustin. His eyes are shut and he’s savoring the bite in his mouth.

“Good, huh?” I ask.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever eaten a biscuit like that in my life.”

Gran beams.

Dustin and I finish our biscuits. I only eat half of mine and insist he eat the rest. I could have eaten two whole biscuits, but I was enjoying his reaction too much not to let him have more.

I run upstairs, take a quick shower, put on my makeup and my dress, then I dry and curl my hair. When I come down the stairs, Dustin is sitting in the front room on the sofa. There’s no sign of Gran. She must have left. His eyes land on me and a smile fills his face.

“I love that dress,” he says.

“So you said.”

“You think they make green wedding gowns?” he says as if he's asking about the weather.

“Are you getting married?”

“Not this week.”

“Well then, we have time to figure that out.”

It should freak me out the way he jokes about babies and marriage. He’s constantly saying something about growing old or what we'll do when we’re on our vacation with our kids. I think he’s trying to wear me down. Maybe he’s half serious.

The crazy thing is, I can picture it. When he talks about the future in his casual way, I see it all. And I don’t mind what I see. He’s not in a rush. I know that. I kind of love the fact that he’s thinking about life together for the long haul. He’s definitely not got one foot out the door.

Dustin holds the truck door open for me and then he leans in to place a soft kiss on my cheek.

“You look beautiful tonight, Emberleigh.”

“You look handsome, too.”

“You like it?” He steps back and spins on the sidewalk.

I like it way more than I’m going to say right now.

“I do,” I tell him.

He jogs around to his door and once he’s in, we take off for our tour of Waterford. I take him by the house where I grew up. He sits in the driver’s seat hunched forward so he can get a good look out over the dash at the place that holds half my memories.

Then I take him by the elementary school. He insists on getting out and walking onto the playground so he can push me on the swings. After a few pushes, Dustin gets into the swing next to me. It’s a sight. He’s three times as large as the weight limit, I’m sure.

“You’re going to break this whole swingset!” I squeal through my laughter.

“Nah. I’ve got this.”

He pushes off and swings. The whole frame creaks. I’m dying. I don’t remember a time I’ve laughed so hard as an adult. He propels himself skyward and leaps onto the rubber padding under the swings.

After the elementary school, we drive by the middle school and high school.

“I bet every boy wanted to date you and every girl wanted to be you,” he says.

“You’d lose that bet. Syd and I hung out with our good friends, but we weren’t the popular kids. We liked baking and county fairs. Syd had a thing for rescuing animals. Some of our friends were in musical theater. Some were in sports.”

“Did you play a sport?”

“I actually played softball in high school.”

“Really? Wow.” He honestly seems impressed.

I tour him around the main streets of town, out to the water tower where we used to sneak up after Friday night football games. We never did anything crazy. We’d just climb to the top and look out around at the town.

“Wanna climb up there?” he asks.

“I think we’ve tested the strength of enough metal structures for one night.”

“Let’s go get dinner, then.” Dustin turns on the engine. But he doesn’t drive away from the old chopped up parking lot under the water tower. The sun is starting to set over the hills in the distance.