Page 45 of Fire and Icing (The Firemen of Waterford TN #1)
I pull up in front of her house—the place I first met her.
I smile, remembering how feisty she was and all the work it took to break through the walls she had erected against me.
But then I got the prize. She let me in.
And I got to see the real woman behind all the attempts to keep me at bay.
She was worth the wait. And now, she’ll be worth the fight.
I climb the porch steps and knock on Emberleigh’s door. She doesn’t answer at first. But her car’s in the driveway.
She’s here.
I knock again. “Em, I know you’re in there.”
I wait. “I just want to talk. Can you open the door?”
To my relief, the door opens and I get my first glimpse of her. It’s like coming up for air even though she looks weary. Guarded, but not hostile.
“So, you moved back home?” I ask, kicking myself for not having a better leading line.
“Yes.”
“Gran said you’d gone.”
“I didn’t plan to leave today. My house was finished so …”
“So you moved home. Of course. That makes sense. Were you going to tell me?” My voice has a note of accusation that I wish I could erase as soon as I hear it.
“Of course. Yes. I’m not hiding from you.”
I stare at her, my brows raised. She’s hiding. We both know it. I’m not blaming her for how she’s processing her feelings and the uncertainty of our future right now. I just don’t want her trying to pretend she’s not avoiding me when she obviously is.
“Much,” she amends. “Not hiding much.”
I smile. “That’s more like it. And you can hide from me if that’s what you need to do. But may I point out one thing?”
“Sure.”
She swings the door the rest of the way open and stands there, facing me from inside the house while I’m still on the porch.
“You left,” I say, gently. “I’m here. Hunting you down. Searching the town to find you. I didn't leave. I went looking. I just want that to be noted.”
“It’s noted.” Emberleigh smiles softly.
It’s like a crack in a wall where the sun shines through. Not enough to bust through the wall, but enough to tell you the wall will crumble over time.
“This isn’t easy, Dustin. If we both knew you were just going to record a demo and then life would resume as it was, I’d be throwing you a party.”
“Really? Would you bake the cake?”
“Dustin.”
“Okay. Okay. Just, I’d really like you to bake me a cake.”
She shakes her head, smiling softly. I am incorrigible. I know it. She knows it. She loves it. I think she loves it, anyway.
Her face grows serious again. “The point is, we don’t know where this will lead. And you can’t promise me this will end up with you staying here in Waterford.”
“I can’t,” I admit. “But I can promise you that you matter more than a career in the music industry.”
“So, if they offered you a deal, a full-blown record deal with tour dates and exposure, and a life you’ve always secretly dreamed of, you’d turn that down?
Just to stay in Waterford and be the rookie firefighter and pick up donuts from my shop every other day and go to dances at The Grange and live a simple, relatively boring life here in Waterford? ”
She crosses her arms over her chest and pops her hip out slightly as if she already knows my answer.
“Honestly?”
Emberleigh nods.
“I don’t know. That life you described doesn’t sound bad to me. Living here in this town with you, fighting fires, eating your donuts, hanging out on a porch swing at night, taking you on dates, fixing things around Mrs. Holt’s … It sounds pretty awesome, actually—if you’re in it with me.
“But will I turn this opportunity down? If it grows into more, I can’t say with one hundred percent certainty that I would walk away.
I can promise you this. We’ll talk. I will not make that decision alone.
And your vote will matter as much as mine.
And we’ll consider all the angles and options—together.
I would not walk out of this town, away from you, without a serious conversation and a plan as to how we were going to make that work.
Because what I want for my future includes you. ”
I search her eyes.
She stares right at me. Her brows raise. Every emotion and uncertainty is written on her face.
“I’m not leaving Waterford,” she says with certainty.
“That may sound stubborn and closed-minded. But I know myself. I’m not one of those people with wanderlust. My bucket list doesn’t involve seeing all fifty states before I die, or climbing Mount Everest, or even visiting the Eiffel Tower and walking down the Champs-Elysee.
I like my simple life in the town where I grew up, where the kids I babysat eight years ago return to my bakery over summer break to get their favorite cookies—from me.
I wish I could be different—for you. But I’m me.
And I can’t change something as fundamental as whether I adapt well to new places. ”
“I wouldn’t change anything about you, Emberleigh.”
I reach for her, instinctively, extending my hand. She looks down at my hand and reluctantly places hers in mine.
“And I won’t be the reason you give up a life-long dream,” she says, looking in my eyes with such resolve. She’s so vulnerable in this moment. Raw, honest, struggling.
“So what does this mean for us?” I ask her.
“I don’t know yet.” her voice is soft, pleading.
“Okay. That’s fair. I don’t know either.”
We stand there, quietly searching one another’s eyes, our hands connected over the threshold like a cantilever bridge between two islands.
“You can say no, but I have to ask. May I come in and hang out for a bit? I miss you.”
“You just saw me yesterday.”
“I still miss you.”
Emberleigh smiles a soft smile. “Yes. You may come in. I’m about to cook dinner now that I have my kitchen back. Are you hungry?”
She steps aside and I start to walk in past her, but I pause when I’m only less than a foot away from her.
“Am I hungry? I herded cattle today.”
“You did?”
“We all went out to Cody’s and helped relocate the herd.”
“You … Wow. Okay then, I better feed you.”
“May I give you a hug first?”
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and looks up at me.
I normally wouldn’t have to ask. Last week I could have come here and she’d have opened the door and leapt into my arms.
We’ll come back to one another. Mom said it. I believe it.
Emberleigh nods softly. I take a step toward her. She meets me halfway and I pull her in. There will never be words for what it feels like to have her back in my arms. She leans in, gripping me, wrapping her arms around me like she’d tether me to this spot, this moment, if she could.
We stand like that, holding on to one another for a while.
Then she looks up at me and says, “Let’s get you some food.”
I help her cook. We’re quieter than usual, awareness of my offer lingering like a ghost in the room. But we’re on the same side of the fence for now. The decision looms on the other side. At least we’re facing it together.
I wish there were an easy answer. But this is why they call it adulting. Sometimes every way you turn requires a massive sacrifice. And loss. No matter what I choose, I’ll have to give up something.
Not her. That’s the one thing I’m sure of. I’m not ever giving her up.
We eat out back on her lawn furniture. The sun goes down while we’re washing the dishes. I’d hang out longer, but Emberleigh’s yawning and we both have work in the morning.
“Thank you for letting me come in,” I tell her.
“Thank you for searching for me—for not giving up.”
“I’m not giving up.”
She steps in and hugs me. I hold her, tucking her head under my chin.
When she looks up at me, our eyes catch.
I instinctively bend toward her and she lifts to meet me in a kiss.
It’s not a kiss full of passion and promise.
This kiss is more careful and tender, like one you’d give someone if you were seeing them off on a long trip.
I almost say I love you when we separate. The words are like greyhounds at the gate, quivering and coiled, aching to explode forward. But I hold them back.
Instead, I brush a strand of her hair back and say, “I’ll see you as soon as I’m off shift in two days.”
“And for donuts. I’ll see you when you come for the donuts.”
I smile. “Yes. I’ll be there for the donuts. You can count on me.”
Her smile is soft, but only half-hearted.
“I want to count on you, Dustin.” She swallows, then adds quietly, “I really do.”